#but i haven’t written for luke in a while

[purplephantomwolf]

Love in Motion

Chapter Four

Synopsis: You are a normal college student until you get a wrong number text.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Previous chapter: Chapter Three

Masterlist

I AM REWRITING THIS FROM AN OC STORY. IF I MISS ANYTHING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN FIX IT! THIS IS CHAPTER 4 OF 5 OF ALREADY WRITTEN CHAPTERS.

April 22, 2022 7 pm Italy Time

Lando’s POV

     I walk back to my drivers room from the media pen. I grab my phone, hoping to see messages from Y/n. I frown when I see no messages from her. “Why are you frowning? You’re starting P3 in the sprint tomorrow!” Jon asks, walking into the room. 

     “I was expecting a message from someone by the time qualifying ended, but I’ve got no messages,” I sigh. 

     “He’s expecting a message from a girl,” Daniel says, entering the room. I sigh and roll my eyes at him extending the word girl. 

     “Yeah,” I sigh, “We’ve been talking every day, so I’m not sure why I haven’t got any messages besides her good morning message. She’s a big F1 fan, so I assumed I’d get messages about qualifying like I did last time.” 

     Jon puts a hand on my shoulder, “I’m sure she’s just busy.” 

     “Yeah, she probably is in class or something,” I nod. Daniel and Jon nod along with me. 

April 22, 2022 3 pm United States Time

Y/n’s POV

     You grab your laptop, sitting down on the couch. You turn on the tv, pulling up qualifying for the Imola grand prix. Your plan is to look for photography jobs while qualifying is happening. You are having to watch a replay of qualifying because you had class all day. You grab your phone so you can text Luke throughout watching it. 

You: I finally am free, so now I can watch qualifying. Stupid school getting in the way of my hobby. 

     You set my phone down, not expecting a message back because it’s 10 in Italy. Your phone vibrates immediately.

Luke: Oh good! I was getting worried after not hearing from you for hours. 

You: Sorry, I had exams in two of my three classes today, so I wasn’t on my phone. 

Luke: All good! Let me know what you think of qualifying! 

You: Don’t worry, you’re going to be getting all my reactions as I watch it. 

Luke: Oh good. I loved reading your comments after Australia.

You: Good, cause I’m not going to stop. You’re the only person I know who likes F1. 

Luke: That sucks. Well, at least you have someone now. 

You: Yeah! 

     You look up at the screen as Alex’s car catches on fire and a red flag is shown. 

You: Holy shit! Alex’s brake is on fire! 

Luke: Yeah, that sucks when it happens. 

You: I can’t believe you say that so casually. I would be scared as hell.

Luke: Yeah, but these guys can’t be scared of these sorts of things, otherwise they’d never get in the car. 

You: True. 

     As you wait for the red flag to finish, you head to the McLaren job website. You’ve been checking different Formula 1 team’s job sites to see if any of them post anything about needing a photographer. You sigh when y6ou don’t see any new postings. You switch over to the Red Bull site next. You see a new job posting and start to get hopeful. You click on it and the words “Red Bull Photographer” stare back at me. You immediately hit apply and start the application. 

     You look up at the screen when you hear the commentators say something about a yellow flag and Latifi. 

You: Aww, Latifi spun. Williams just isn’t having a good day. 

Luke: No, they didn’t. 

     You turn back to the application, filling everything out. You submit the application with your photo portfolio just as the commentators go “And Sainz in the wall!” Your head flings up to see Carlos’ car against the wall. 

You: No!! Carlos hit the wall! Thank goodness he’s okay. I always get so worried about the drivers when they crash. 

Luke: That’s so sweet of you. It’s always worrying when drivers crash. 

You: Yeah. I hope you’re staying dry this weekend. Looks miserable out there. 

Luke: I’m luckily in the hospitality all weekend. 

You: That’s good. It’s bright and sunny here. 

You: Hopefully it doesn’t rain too much during the races. 

Luke: Hopefully, that would be good. 

     You watch as the cars come out on track for Q3. You groan as Kevin Magnussen crashes and causes another red flag. 

You: How many red flags are there going to be?

Luke: You just see Magnussen crash?

You: Yeah, luckily it won’t be too long it looks like. 

You: I still have 6 minutes left of Q3 but there’s 25 minutes left in the video. What happens?

You: Ohhh! Valtteri is off! And it’s another red flag. 

Luke: Three red flags. It was an interesting qualifying. 

     You patiently wait for the red flag to lift. 15 minutes later the flag is lifted. You know you can skip until the flag is done, but you like watching everything you can on the sport. You groan when you see another red flag. You gasp and yell, “No!” It’s Lando who’s caused the red flag. 

You: No! Lando crashed! Hopefully he’s okay! But hey! He’s starting P3 tomorrow!

Luke: He’s okay, happy to start P3 tomorrow.

You: Oh good! He did great today. 

Luke: I should head to bed. It’s midnight here now. 

You: Okay! Have a good night!

Luke: Good night, Y/n. 

     You turn off the tv and head into the kitchen to make some dinner. 

April 23, 2022 9 am

     You sit down on the couch as the five lights go out for the sprint race. “Oh no, what happened to you, Zhou?” you ask, seeing his car in the wall. “Ooohhh, contact with Pierre,” you hum, seeing Pierre limp around the track. 

You: Poor Zhou and Pierre. 

You: Zhou should’ve given Pierre more room, but it’s going to go down as a racing incident probably. 

You: The fact that Carlos is fighting against Fernando, who is the driver he idolized as a child, is crazy. 

You: Noooo, Perez passed Lando. 

You: NO! Carlos! How could you do this to your bestie? How could you pass him?

You: Let’s go! Lando finished P5!

     You set your phone down, standing up. You start cleaning your apartment, waiting to see if Luke responds any time soon. 

     You’ve just finished cleaning the bathroom when you hear your phone vibrate. You grab it, expecting to see Luke’s name. You frown when you see that it’s an email from a name you don’t recognise. Curious, you click it. You almost drop your phone in shock when you see the contents. “RED BULL WANTS AN INTERVIEW WITH ME!” You shriek. You’re shocked that they want an interview and the incredibly fast response time. You immediately respond to the email, wanting to set up a time as soon as possible for an interview. As soon as you get that figured out, you start pacing your apartment. “Oh my god, this is it. This could be you fulfilling your dream, Y/n. Don’t freak out,” you mumble to myself. Your phone vibrates, and you dive for it. You grin when you see a message from Luke. 

Luke: I’m sure Lando would be grateful for your support if he knew you.

You: Hi, Luke!

Luke: Hi, Y/n. How has your day been?

You: It’s going amazing. I have an interview on Monday for a possible photography job.

Luke: That’s amazing! Congrats!

You: Thanks!

Luke: I’m sure you’ll do great.

You: Thanks! How’s the weather look in Imola tomorrow? More rain?

Luke: Lots of rain.

You: Damn, good luck to the drivers then. 

Luke: They’ve driven in all kinds of weather, I’m sure they’ll be okay. 

You: I hope so too. 

Luke: What’s your plan for the rest of your day?

You: I’m finishing cleaning my apartment, then doing some homework. Can’t slack off for even a day or I’ll fall behind. 

Luke: Damn, I really hope you get some free time soon. 

You: I should, it’s almost the end of school. Just two more weeks. 

Luke: Oh, that’s good!

You: Yep! What’s the plan for your night?

Luke: Well, just resting and preparing for the race and events tomorrow. 

You: Okay! Have fun with that! 

Luke: I will!

Lando’s POV

     I pick up my phone, grinning when I see messages from Y/n. My disappointment from losing positions in the sprint disappears when I see she’s excited that I finished P5. I dive into a conversation with her, lounging on the bed to relax. We talk for a good hour before I feel myself start to fall asleep. I groan, wanting to spend more time talking to Y/n. I fight sleep for a couple minutes before it starts to take over. 

Me: As much as I’d love to continue talking, it’s 9:30 here now and I’m fighting sleep. 

Y/n: Okay! Good night Luke!

Me: Good night, Y/n!

April 24, 2022 8 am

Y/n’s POV

     “And in Imola, we’re racing,” Will Buxton says. You grin, as Lando takes two places right off the bat. “And Sainz has been hit!” You gasp, seeing Carlos and Daniel in the gravel. 

You: LET’S GO LANDO! TAKING TWO PLACES OFF THE BAT!

You: Oh no! Not Carlos and Daniel! It must be so hard to see with all that rain. 

You: The drivers need little windshield wipers on their helmets. 

You: It sucks that Carlos is beached. 

You: Oh! Mick had a little trip through the grass too. 

You: I could never be a race strategist. So many variables. 

     You bite your nails as Charles makes an attempt to pass Lando. “Charles, I swear if you take Lando out,” you say. You pout when Charles passes Lando, “Come on, Lando. You can do this.” 

You: Aww, Mick spun again. 

You: Stroll is worrying me going onto the wet part of the track on slicks. 

You: I don’t want anyone to crash!

You: No! Charles! He crashed! 

You: BUT THAT MEANS LANDO IS P3! LET’S GOOOO!

You: YESSS LANDO GOT P3!!!

You: Awww, his reaction on the radio is so cute. 

     You laugh as Lando appears on the screen, his hair sticking straight up. After the podium ceremony, you shut off the tv. You grab your laptop, setting up camp on the couch to work on homework and get ready for your interview tomorrow. 

Lando’s POV

     I step out of the conference room, still stinking of champaign. “All I want right now is a shower and sleep,” Max says, coming up next to me. I nod, making a noise of agreement. We walk back to our drivers rooms together. “See you later, Lando. Congrats again on your race,” Max says, waving bye. 

     “Thanks, Max. Congrats on your win,” I say, before heading into the room. I race for my phone, grinning when I see a string of messages from Y/n. I quickly read through them before replying. 

Me: Lando is super happy with his final position. 

Y/n: As he should be! He did amazing! 

     I almost send a thank you to her, before catching myself. “She doesn’t know she’s talking to you, idiot. Don’t mess it up now,” I mumble.

Me: He did.

Y/n: Any plans to go out and celebrate?

Me: Not tonight, I’ve got an early flight to catch. Celebrations will be later this week. 

Y/n: Sounds like fun!

Me: Yeah! Now it’s time to head back to the hotel and get some sleep. 

Y/n: Sounds like a fantastic idea. Sounds like a lot more fun than what I’m doing. 

Me: What are you doing?

Y/n: I’m studying for my final in my java class. 

Me: That sounds awful.

Y/n: It truly is miserable. But I’m getting through it. 

Me: I’ll leave you to it then, I’m headed back to the hotel now and will probably fall asleep as soon as I sit down. 

Y/n: Alright! Have a good night and sleep, Luke! 

Me: Have a good day and study, Y/n. Good night. 

     I grab my stuff, heading for the hotel. As soon as I get back, I shower and fall into bed, quickly falling asleep.

Next chapter: Chapter Five

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[puckinghischier]

celebrations with luke though after the game. like i don't even care even just cuddles i feel like he'd be so happy especially if you were there to witness the goal, he'd have looked for you in the stands to see you cheering and he'd just be so happy. ugh.

you’d rush out of there as fast as you could, already on the phone ordering all kinds of snacks and goodies to surprise him with after the game. you’d know you have a little extra time, considering he’d be held up with media for a good while after they hit the locker room.

you’re stopping by several stores on the way back to your apartment. bakeries, grocery stores, restaurants, and even a little party store for silly hats and confetti poppers. you text jack to make sure luke is distracted and unable to leave until you send him a green light text, not wanting him to walk in on the middle of you arranging his celebration.

you let jack know you were almost ready, putting the final touches on the junk food spread. you have just enough time to throw a red party hat on your head and grab a confetti popper before you hear the door opening, ready to celebrate his goal and their win.

the second he rounds the corner into the kitchen, you pull the string on the popper and watch his small jump backwards, red confetti falling all over his damp curls.

“surprise!!! congratulations lukey!!!” you exclaim, running towards him and slamming your small frame into his large one. he laughs at your enthusiasm, hugging you back just as tightly, picking you up just enough that your feet aren’t touching the floor before sitting you back down.

you pull back, looking up at him with a proud, toothy grin. he returns your lovey look, smiling just as wide as he looks down at you. “proud of you, lucas,” you tell him, using the full name that isn’t really his own, simply because you know it irks him. he rolls his eyes at the name, but his smile never falters.

“thanks, you big dork,” he responds, flicking the paper hat on your head, his cheeks only slightly red from all the attention you’re giving him. he moves his face down to give you a short, but sweet, kiss.

the second his lips detach from yours, you step back from him, preventing yourself from getting too distracted and lost in his kisses. “so, let me show you tonight’s gourmet meal,” you grab his hand, leading him to the island that’s covered in every single one of his favorite treats.

you have cookies from his favorite bakery, brownies from his favorite cafe, several pizzas from his favorite pizza place, all of his favorite kinds of chips and snacks, and in the freezer you have a carton of every single ice cream flavor he likes. it looks like a kids birthday party gone wild, but you didn’t care. he scored his first goal of the season tonight. he deserves junk food and tacky hats.

“oh my god, coach is gonna kill me if he finds out this is what i ate after a game,” were the first words out of his mouth, eyes taking in all the greasy food and sugary treats.

“well, he can get over it. you deserve it tonight. i went through all this trouble to get your favorites, so just indulge me and eat them, yeah?” you scold him slightly as you take the cone-shaped hat off of your head, not caring about what the coach or team nutritionist has to say about it. it’s not like he won’t have a chance to work it all off in the next couple of days anyways.

you hand him a plate and watch him load it up with as much food as it can hold, making his way over to the couch where you have his favorite movie queued up and ready to play.

“the secretariat? oh you really do know how to make a guy feel special, huh?” he half jokes, a hint of genuine excitement in his voice.

you join him on the couch and shush him while you press play, your own plate of treats sat in front of you. the two of you snack and watch, eventually finding your way on top of him to lay on his chest as he lays on his back, head turned just enough to still see the tv. his hand drags lazily up and down your back as yours traces light shapes on his clothed pectoral muscle.

the two of you had been quiet for some time, enjoying each others company and watching the movie, but luke’s voice breaks the marathon of silence.

“you know, m’glad you were there to see it. felt nice being able to look up and see you cheering for me after i scored,” he tells you, not taking his eyes off of the tv screen.

“of course i was cheering for you. are you crazy? i’ve been planning this for weeks, just waiting for the moment to finally happen. you’ve been trying so hard to get your first goal, everyone could see it,” you move to rest your chin on his chest, loving the relaxed look on his face. “but i’m glad i could be there, too. was so scared you were gonna score on the road and i was gonna miss it. well, miss it in person anyways. i’m always watching.”

he turns to look at you, not being able to keep his lips from stretching into another smile. it’s a common occurrence, he realizes. he can hardly look at you without smiling anymore, always filled with so much love and adoration for you he doesn’t know what else to do.

“know you are. can feel it every night,” he reaches up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, letting his hand linger on the ends of it, twirling it around his fingers.

“i am super proud of you, y’know that, right? not saying it just because. i meant it when i said everyone can see how hard you’ve been trying, and it’s a well deserved goal,” you tell him again, never missing a chance to let him know just how proud of him you really are.

he legitimately blushes this time, always being one to shy away from praise. you reach a hand up to tap the tip of his nose, smiling when he scrunches it and turns his head in protest. “stop booping my nose, you’re gonna ruin my reputation one of these days,” he swats your hand away, dropping the strand of hair.

“luke…what reputation? everyone knows you’re a big softie,” you deadpan, causing a pout to form on his lips. “plus, there’s no one here except me and you right now.”

“i’m supposed to be a big scary hockey player, i can’t have my girlfriend booping my nose all the time,” he argues, whining through his pout.

“aww, baby,” you fake sympathy, “you are a big scary hockey player, don’t worry. you showed that net and that goalie who was boss tonight.” you reach up to pat his cheek.

he huffs, not appreciating the little laugh you let out after your sentence.

you stop your chuckles, easing yourself back into the previous conversation. “i’m just kidding. but really, luke, i’m proud of you. and so is jack. glad he was the one who got the assist and you could experience this with him,” you tell him earnestly, loving the moment the brothers shared on the ice after the goal. “your whole team is proud of you, too. you’ve been playing so well lately. you deserve to be celebrated every night, but especially tonight.”

he leans in for another kiss, ignoring the awkward angle of his neck, bringing his hands down to push you up his body by your ass, bringing your face closer to his. the kiss is soft and slow, no rush, just raw emotions conveyed through it.

once the two of you pull back to catch your breath, you rest your forehead against his.

“proud to have you by my side through all this too, you know? couldn’t do it without you,” luke whispers into the small space between your lips. “mean it. you do so much for me, and i wouldn’t want to come home to anyone else tonight. or any night. you’re more than my good luck charm, y/n, you’re my rock. my calm in a storm. my steady hands on a sloppy goal attempt,” his words cause your own blush to paint your cheeks. “just glad i landed this shot, most of all. don’t know where i’d be if i hadn’t.”

you can feel the tears prick at your eyes, not wanting to be a blubbering mess on what’s supposed to be his night.

“alright you big sap, this is your night, you can’t make me cry before we even get eat all the ice cream i bought,” you sniffle, bringing a hand up to dab at the corners of your eyes with a wet laugh.

luke’s eyes widen, face suddenly brighter than it had been all night. “wait, you bought ice cream!?” is all you hear as you’re being lifted off his chest and dropped onto the couch while he slips out from under you, rushing to the the freezer, your sentimental moment long forgotten at the promise of a frozen treat.

[rynwritesreid]

You’re on your own| Spencer Reid

Summary: After releasing Spencer will never love you back, you take some time of work to work on your mental health. However, an unsub the team have been working to find, finds you first.

Content: Fem!reader. Threats against life. Mention of weapons. Mention of blood. It’s full of angst (I guess some fluff but not much). This is a bit darker than anything else I’ve written before, but I really enjoyed writing this one. So, I hope you enjoy

A/N: I have written another fic like this called-shattered reflections. If you enjoy this one, you might like that one.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

4.3k words

You had been in love with Spencer from the moment you had laid your eyes on him, but he most definitely didn’t feel the same way. He had been on dates or fallen in love with serval women while you had known him, and you had just come to terms that you two would never happen, so you just started looking elsewhere.

At work you barely interacted with him anymore. You two weren’t the greatest friends to start off with, but now you only talked to him when necessary. Everyone, but him, had noticed. Luke asked if you two had had an argument or something, but you just shrugged him off. Emily and JJ asked if everything was alright, which you would always say “yes, I don’t know why you don’t think everything if alright.”

 

You were only ignoring him to get over your crush, but you were always seemingly pushing away all of your friends in the process. Emily, JJ, Tara, Luke, and Penelope now never mentioned Spencer around you. They all knew something was going on, but didn’t want to ask, and all you really wanted to do was rant how he never seemed to realise you were right there in front of him.

 

After one practically gruelling case you didn’t speak a word to any of your friends/team while on the flight back, or while in the Quantico. Once you were in the safety of your apartment you burst into tears, wondering if you were ever going to be good enough for anyone. JJ text you asking if you were okay as you seemed abnormally quiet. You didn’t reply. You didn’t want to push anyone away, but this is what you did when you were down.

 

You ignored everyone for the days you had off, putting dnd on your phone. You barely left your apartment and would order food, so you didn’t have to grocery shopping. What you didn’t expect to happen was for Spencer to message you.

 

“Hey, I was wondering if I’ve done something wrong. You haven’t talked to me for a while. You haven’t really talked to anyone. But if I have done something wrong, please tell me.”

 

You wondered if someone had asked him to text you, but you didn’t reply. You just read of the message. He didn’t send another one. But everyone else was constantly checking in on you. You felt bad, but you just didn’t have the energy to reply to them.

 

Once you had returned to work, you said sorry to everyone (but Spencer) for ignoring them and just explained the case hit you hard. Spencer kept looking at you, half expecting you to apologise to him, but you simply just ignored him. He asked everyone why you were doing this, but they all told him they didn’t have a clue.

 

When everyone else had gone to get some lunch, Spencer came up to you.

 

“Hey, are you okay? You have ignored me all day, you didn’t reply to my message. You haven’t even looked in my direction. What have I done?” He seemed defeated. His voice, while it wasn’t filled with pain and sadness, wasn’t exactly a happy voice.

 

“Spencer, you haven’t done anything. I just want to be alone. Please, go back to your desk.” It was a short reply, you didn’t look up at him, or acknowledge his presence.

 

He left, and he didn’t say anything to you. He ignored you, like you ignored him. Everyone was worried, wondering what had happened. Questioning if everything was okay, but like always, you shrugged them off.

 

You hated how you felt, and how you were treating everyone else. Emily suggested, because of your recent behaviour, you take some time off. She wasn’t forcing you too, but both you and her knew it would be for the best. You reluctantly agreed. You did feel like a burden to everyone around you, you felt like you were pulling them down with, which you knew was unfair.

 

As you left the BAU, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything going on around you. You knew deep down that you couldn't keep going on like this. You needed to sort out your feelings and deal with your emotions before you could come back and face everyone again.

 

The first few days of your break were difficult. You couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt that was hanging over you like a dark cloud. You spent most of your days in bed, scrolling through social media, and thinking about all the missed opportunities you had with Spencer. You even considered reaching out to him to apologize, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. It was like your pride was holding you back, and you didn't know how to let go of it.

 

You knew you needed to go outside at one point, even if it was just for a little walk. As you stepped out of your apartment building, the sun hit your face, and you closed your eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth. You took a deep breath and started walking towards the shops. You could hear the birds chirping, and it was as if the world had come alive. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, and you realized that maybe taking a break was exactly what you needed.

 

After you had picked up some groceries, you walked to one of your favourite parks. You sat on a bench and decided to people watch and make up little stories about the people walking by. You watched people chase after their dogs, and friends share jokes and laughs. It felt tranquil, a moment of bliss in a world full of chaos. You hadn’t replied to anyone, but I think everyone was expecting that.

 

You walked back to your apartment, the peace you once felt had gone. You had a feeling of dreed, like something awful was about to happen to you. You looked around, making sure no one was following you or watching you from a far. You didn’t notice anyone, but you couldn’t put your feelings aside.

 

Just as you were about to reach your apartment, you heard footsteps behind you. You quickly turned around, but no one was there. You shrugged it off, thinking it was just your imagination playing tricks on you. However, a few minutes later, you heard the footsteps again. This time, they were louder and more distinct. Your heart started racing as you began to feel a sense of panic. You picked up your pace, trying to get to your apartment building as quickly as possible.

 

You had reached the safety of your apartment, making sure you had locked the door. You turned on the TV, just to make your apartment less quiet and so that your mind couldn’t wonder. As you sat on your couch, you couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching you. You tried to convince yourself that it was just your imagination, but the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feeling became. You stood up and walked towards the door, peering through the peephole, but you couldn't see anyone outside.

 

Just as you were about to turn away from the door, you saw a figure in the corner of your eye. You quickly turned back to the peephole, but the figure was gone. You backed away from the door, heart racing and palms sweating.

 

You decided to call Emily, hoping that she would answer and calm you down. She picked up after a few rings, and you could tell from her voice that she was worried.

 

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” Emily asked.

 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “I don’t know, Emily. I just have this feeling that someone is watching me. I went to the park near where I live, and when I started walking back home, I got this sudden feeling that someone was following me. I don’t want to seem paranoid, but I just can’t shake this feeling.”

 

“Okay. Do you want me to come over?”

 

“No, I don’t think so. I just wanted to tell someone. I kind of wanted you to tell me I sounded stupid and that of course you feel like this, you work to catch bad people all the time, these feelings are normal.”

 

Emily was quiet for a moment before speaking in a calm and reassuring voice. "It's okay to feel scared sometimes. It doesn't make you stupid. And you're right, we catch bad people for a living, so it's normal to feel like this. But if you want, I can come over and we can talk about it more."

 

You felt relieved that Emily didn’t think you were stupid, but you didn’t want to be a burden to her. “No, Em. It’s fine. I’ll text you later.”

 

“Okay. But if you keep feeling like this, call me again and I’ll come straight over.” Emily hung up after saying that.

You turned back on your TV and make some food. Though the feeling persisted, you didn’t call Emily again, you really didn’t want to course any problems for her or be a burden.

 

As the night progressed, the feeling of being watched only grew stronger. You tried to shake it off and distract yourself with TV shows and books, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't dismiss the nagging sensation of being followed or watched.

 

 You decided to take matters into your own hands and investigate. It was a risky move, but you couldn't just sit around waiting for something to happen. You quickly grabbed your coat and left your apartment, determined to find out who or what was causing these feelings of dread.

 

As you walked down the dimly lit street, you kept looking over your shoulder, trying to spot anyone suspicious. You tried to act casual, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were being followed. You quickened your pace, hoping to reach the end of the street before anything could happen.

 

Just as you turned the corner, you saw a shadowy figure standing in the middle of the road. Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze in place. The figure started moving towards you, and you could hear its heavy breathing.

 

You tried to run, but your legs felt like they were made of lead. The figure was getting closer and closer, and you could feel it’s hot breath on your neck. You turned around to face your attacker, but before you could even get a good look at them, they grabbed you and pulled you into an alleyway. You tried to scream, but their hand was firmly over your mouth, muffling any sound.

 

You struggled against your attacker, but their grip was too strong. You could feel their body pressing against yours, and you knew that you were in danger.

 

You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down and think of a way out of the situation. As you opened your eyes, you saw the glint of a knife in the attacker's hand. You knew then that you were in grave danger and started to panic.

 

The attacker pushed you up against the wall, the knife now pressed against your throat. You could feel the cold metal against your skin, and you shuddered in fear.

 

“Don't. Move.” The attacker's voice was low and menacing, and you knew that they weren't going to let you go without a fight.

You tried to reason with them, to plead for your life. “Please...let me go...I won't tell anyone...”

 

The attacker chuckled darkly, and you knew that your words had fallen on deaf ears. They leaned in closer, their breath hot against your face. “Oh, I know you won't tell anyone. Even if you did, they wouldn’t care. You’ve pushed them all away, and now they don’t care about you.”

 

Your heart sank at the attacker's words. They were right - you had been pushing people away, isolating yourself from those who cared about you. But you didn't deserve to die for it. You mustered up all of your courage and looked the attacker straight in the eye.

 

"Please, I don't want to die," you said, your voice trembling. "I'll do anything. Just let me go."

 

“Anything, huh? God, hearing, an FBI agent beg for their life isn’t something I thought I’d ever hear. But here is what is going to happen. You’re going to come with me, not making a sound, and you are going to help me out. Okay?”

 

The attacker loosened their grip on you, and you took the opportunity to nod your head in agreement. You didn't know what they wanted from you, but you knew that you had to do whatever it took to stay alive. You were an FBI agent; you were trained for these situations. You knew how to fight, but right now you were a victim, one who hadn’t be specially trained, one who didn’t know how to handle these types of situations and one who, apparently, had no friends left who would help them out or who cared about them.

 

The attacker led you deeper into the alleyway, their grip firm on your arm. You tried to think of a way out of this, but your mind was blank. You were scared, and you didn't know what was going to happen to you.

 

As you walked, you noticed that the walls of the alleyway were covered in graffiti. You saw a message scrawled on the wall in bright red paint and gasped. It was a message from the notorious serial killer, the one that you had been tracking for months. This couldn't be a coincidence.

 

You turned to the attacker, your heart racing. "Are you working for him? Are you his accomplice?"

 

The attacker smirked. "Why don't you come with me and find out?"

 

You had a feeling that this wasn't going to end well, but you knew that you had to keep your wits about you if you were going to get out of this alive.

 

The attacker led you deeper into the alleyway, their grip firm on your arm. You tried to think of a way out of this, but your mind was blank. You were scared, and you didn't know what was going to happen to you.

 

You followed the attacker through the alleyway, your mind racing as you tried to come up with a plan. You didn't know who this person was or what they wanted, but you knew that you had to stay alert and focused if you were going to make it out of this alive.

The attacker led you to a rundown building on the outskirts of town. They pushed you inside and closed the door behind you. You found yourself in a dimly lit room, the walls covered in damp and mould.

 

The attacker sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, watching you with a cold and calculated gaze. You could feel their eyes on you, and you knew that you were in danger.

"What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice shaking.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to murder anyone. I want you to be a warning to the rest of your team, not to come looking for me. They’ve been working on my case while you’ve been away, and I don’t want them too anymore. So, you, are going to be warning.”

 

You felt a chill run down your spine at the attacker's words. They wanted to use you as a warning to your own team. It was a sick and twisted plan, and you knew that you couldn't let it happen.

 

"I won't be a part of this," you said firmly. "I won't let you use me as a pawn in your twisted game."

 

The attacker laughed, standing up from their chair and walking towards you. "Oh, but you don't have a choice, do you? You either do what I say, or you die. It's that simple."

You stood your ground, staring the attacker straight in the eye. "I'd rather die than become a part of your sick game."

 

The attacker shrugged. "Suit yourself." They pulled out the knife and lunged towards you. He stabbed you, just above your heart. You felt you self-losing hope, even if this one wasn’t fatal, you knew he wouldn’t stop till you were dead. You felt yourself slump to the floor, you knew it wasn’t going to be long till you lost consciousness, you had no fight left in you.

 

As you lay there dying, you thought about all the people you had pushed away. You regretted not reaching out to them, not telling them how much you loved them. You wished you had spent more time with them, made more memories.

 

But it was too late for that now. You closed your eyes, accepting your fate. You wished that you had told Spencer how you felt, and you couldn’t believe that was going to be one of your last thoughts. You heard the man walk away. You felt so weak, you had nothing last. You just gave up, knowing that no one now would really care that you had gone.

Emily had grown worried. You hadn’t texted or called her back. She thought you would have by now. She decided to go to your apartment to check on you. As she walked up to your door, she could hear your phone ringing through the door. She knocked, but there was no answer. Worried, she used her spare key to let herself in.

 

As she walked into your living room, she saw your phone lying on the coffee table. It was Spencer calling, and Emily knew that something was wrong. She called your name, but no reply. She searched your entire apartment looking for you, but you were nowhere. She called JJ to see if she had heard from you, but the last she heard anything from you was when you were last in the office. Everyone else had the same answer when she called them.

 

She asked the team to come over, to see if they could spot anything she couldn’t. Everyone was worried about you. As the team arrived, they saw Emily pacing around the living room, phone in hand. She quickly filled them in on her worries and the fact that you were missing. She explained how you had called her earlier saying that you thought someone was watching you, and that you would call her if anything happened.

 

Spencer was the one to look in your bedroom, as he was searching, he kept thinking how he thought this was somehow his fault. He saw the pictures you had around your room of you and your old college friends, or family pets. But there was no evidence in there of anything. JJ had suggested that you had gone somewhere, but Emily said you wouldn’t go anywhere with your phone. Rossi tried to suggest that maybe you left your phone so that they wouldn’t be able to trace you, but Emily said that was stupid considering that call she had received earlier. Luke and Tara just kept pacing around your apartment, looking for anything, but they found nothing.

 

As the team continued to search your apartment, the sound of Emily's phone ringing filled the silence. She answered it quickly, hoping that it would be you on the other end of the line.

 

"Hello?" Emily said, her voice shaking slightly.

 

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and then a voice spoke. It was distorted, and Emily couldn't make out what it was saying.

 

"Who is this?" Emily demanded, her heart racing.

 

The voice spoke again, and this time Emily could hear it more clearly. "You'll find your friend in an alleyway on the outskirts of town," the voice said. "But you better hurry. She doesn't have much time left."

 

Emily's heart sank as she hung up the phone. The team looked at her, fear etched on their faces.

 

"We have to go find her," JJ said, her voice determined.

 

The team rushed out of your apartment and into the streets, determined to find you before it was too late. They piled into their cars and sped towards the location that the voice had mentioned.

 

As they arrived at the alleyway, they saw a figure lying motionless on the ground. They rushed towards you, praying that it wasn't too late. As they got closer, they saw the blood seeping out of your body and onto the pavement. They knew that they didn't have much time.

 

Spencer checked for a pulse, and thankfully, there was one. They had to act quickly to save you. Rossi called for an ambulance, while JJ and Tara tried to stop the bleeding. Emily sat by your side, holding your hand tightly and praying that you would make it.

 

As the ambulance arrived, the team helped load you onto the gurney. Emily rode with you to the hospital, holding your hand the entire way. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you. She thought about all the times you had laughed together, shared secrets and dreams. She couldn't imagine a world without you in it.

 

As the doctors rushed you into surgery, the team waited anxiously in the waiting room. They didn't know if you would make it or not, but they knew they had to have faith. They sat together, silent, and scared, waiting for any news.

 

No one could bear the thought of losing you, you were always there for them. Not long ago you would have answered their calls and listened to them rant about everything and anything. Spencer, though, felt the worst out of all of them. He was good at his job, he had known for some time that you had feelings for him, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have any for you, but he didn’t want to lose someone else he loved. He silently cried, hoping you would make it.

 

As the hours ticked by, the team was filled with anxiety and worry. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the surgeon emerged from the operating room.

 

"Is she okay?" Emily asked, her voice trembling.

The surgeon sighed. "She's stable, but it was touch and go for a while. We managed to stop the bleeding, but the knife wound was deep. She's still in critical condition, but we're hopeful that she'll make a full recovery."

 

The team breathed a collective sigh of relief. They knew that you still had a long road ahead of you, but at least you were alive. They thanked the surgeon and waited patiently for you to be brought to a room.

 

As they sat by your bedside, they could see the machines monitoring your vitals. They could hear the steady beeping of the heart monitor, and they knew that it was a good sign. Emily held your hand tightly, tears streaming down her face.

 

Spencer watched from the corner of the room, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He wished he had told you how he felt sooner before it was almost too late. He wished he had been the one to protect you from harm, instead of the one who inadvertently caused it. He knew he had a lot to make up for if you were to recover.

 

In the days that followed, the team took turns staying by your side, never leaving you alone for a moment. They brought you flowers, cards, and small gifts, hoping to bring some comfort during your recovery. Spencer was always there, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement. He was determined to make things right with you, to show you how much he cared.

 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you opened your eyes. You saw the team surrounding you, and Spencer's face filled with relief. You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry and sore. Emily handed you some water.

 

As you took a sip of water, you looked around the room and saw the worried faces of your team. You knew that something bad had happened, but you couldn't remember what it was. You tried to speak again, but your throat was still too sore.

 

Emily leaned in closer to you. "You were attacked," she said softly. "But you're going to be okay."

 

As the memories flooded back, you felt a wave of fear wash over you. You remembered the pain of being stabbed and the feeling of helplessness as you lay bleeding on the ground. But as you looked around the room, you saw the love and support of your friends, and you knew that you weren't alone.

 

Spencer leaned in close to you. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I should have protected you."

 

You shook your head weakly. "It wasn't your fault," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

 

But Spencer wouldn’t hear it. “But you took time off because of me, and don’t pretend you didn’t. If, if I had said anything to you, then you wouldn’t have done that and you wouldn’t be laying in this hospital bed.”

 

“Spencer, please don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault, and you didn’t need to say anything to me. Sometimes the person you love doesn’t love you back and that’s okay. But the man who did this got into my head and told me I was on my own, and that you guys didn’t care about, and that I pushed you all away. I’m so sorry for how I treated you.”

 

Spencer squeezed your hand. "You have nothing to apologize for. We're just glad you're okay."

 

You smiled weakly at him, grateful for his kind words. You knew that it would take time to heal both physically and emotionally, but you also knew that you had the support of your friends.

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[softspiderling]

still thinking about "like, ever", I hope they're doing wonderful, these little stoic bbs :3

stop ily. i know you didn’t ask for this but you’ll get it anyway😭

truly madly deeply | j.v

Squinting your eyes at the screen, your finger tips hovered over the keyboard, the cursor blinking, like it was mocking you. You only had about 200 words left to write in your paper, but you felt like you had stretched it as much as possible. Your mind was completely blank and you were trying your hardest to get some more words on the document, but nothing.

It didn’t help that you could feel Jace’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

He had come over around 3 in the afternoon, even though you had told him that you were just gonna work on your paper.

“I don’t mind,” he had said, “I just wanna be around you.”

That proved true for about the first half hour. Then, he started to get antsy. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the room had grown noticeable darker, when your eyes flickered away from the screen as Jace let out yet another sigh.

“Jace.”

Your voice was exhausted, annoyed and Jace pushed himself off of your bed, coming up behind your chair.

“Don’t you think it’s time to take a break, baby?” He asked, his lithe fingers dipping into your tense muscles and it took everything in you to not melt into his touch.

“I only need 200 more words,” you argued, albeit weakly. “If I take a break now, I won’t sit back down.”

“You haven’t written a single word in the past ten minutes.”

You let out a groan, leaning your head back and casting your eyes upwards, meeting his gaze.

“I know.”

Jace grinned at you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Come on. It’s late, and you must be starving. It won’t kill you to take a break now. I promise you’ll be so much more productive after.”

You protested but Jace had none of it as he all but dragged you out of your chair and out of your bedroom. The rest of your apartment was empty. Baela and Rhaena had gone home to visit their parents and Helaena was on an excursion with her class. It was odd for your apartment to be so quiet. It was always so loud, whether it was Baela’s rock music blaring out of her speakers, Rhaena’s old sewing machine in the living room or one of Hel’s old classic movies running in the background.

Jace’s frat house wasn’t much different. It was a frat house after all, which was why he seemed refuge at your apartment often.

“I don’t think we have any food at home,” you told Jace as he walked towards the kitchen. He glanced at you, a grin tugging on his lips as he opened the fridge to reveal a tupper, which he must have brought with him.

“Luke just came back from home,” Jace said, grabbing two plates out of the cupboard. “Mom sent him back with some food.”

He opened the tupperware and your eyes widened at the content: a homemade lasagna.

“Stop, that looks so good,” you sighed and Jace winked at you, dividing the lasagna in half between the two of you. After a quick heat up in the microwave, you and Jace got comfortable on your couch, and soon your belly was warm and filled.

“How you feeling now?” Jace asked, combing his fingers through your hair.

“Better,” you replied, eyes fluttering closed. “I don’t think I’ll make it back to my desk, though.”

Jace snickered quietly, letting you tuck yourself against his side. “It’s not due until tomorrow night, right? You have plenty of time to finish it.”

You let out a small hum, acknowledging his words, your limbs growing heavier as exhausting overtook you. It wasn’t long until your breath evened out, and Jace shifted to make it more comfortable for you. Pressing a kiss in your hair, he let out a soft sigh.

“I love you,” you mumbled in your sleep and Jace’s heart skipped a beat. He knew he loved you. Had for a while. He just hadn’t been quite brave enough to say it, but hearing you utter those words? Even in your sleep?

Jace’s face lit up and he nuzzled into your side. “I love you too,” he said quietly, in the privacy of your apartment. He’d tell it to you when you were awake soon enough.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: oh hello lmfao. tagging @eldrith bc she whined about me not tagging her last time whatever

[lady-pug]

Written Between the Lines

Chapter III - Parallel Lines Intertwined

Summary: You are now betrothed to Aemond, with the promise of being crowned together when time comes, your family no longer headed unquestionably on warpath, but now you can’t help but wonder if this is truly what he wants, if he’s as happy as you are with this arrangement.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 3,6k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece), nudity, making out, allusions to sex, canon-typical misogyny regarding sex and female virginity, some steaminess (but nothing more than that really)

Notes: Another chapter is here! Yay!

I’m tagging this as mature because there’s some steaminess in it but not full blown smut (yet).

I’ve accidentally fallen in love with these two and cannot stop thinking about them, I have so many installments planned out you guys have no idea.

I decided to use some High Valyrian as I had mentioned before Aemond and reader are used to speaking it with one another (does it break consistency, as I haven’t used it until now? yes, but better late than never). For this I used an online translator (I don’t know if it’s grammatically correct, I’ll just roll with it, if someone spots any mistakes please let me know and I’ll correct it right away), translations are in the end notes.

Thank you so so much for reading and I hope you have enjoyed this story! <3

Next chapter | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

The steaming water was doing wonders for your sore muscles. You hadn’t realized how tense you had been until you had reached your chambers and felt as if a weight had been lifted off your chest, your shoulders slumping with the force of everything falling into place. No sooner had you stepped foot inside your room you requested that the maids fix you a bath, the water steaming hot. Now, with your body submerged and the steam clouding your thoughts, you felt like you could finally breathe properly. 

It had worked. Your mad, crazy, stupid idea had worked. At least as well as one could expect. Alicent and Otto, of all people, had agreed to it, and now it seemed like there would no longer be a war inside House Targaryen. The promise of their blood eventually occupying the Iron Throne seemed to appease them enough to, most likely, support your mother’s claim as King Viserys’ heir, apparently no longer questioning her legitimacy as ruler just because she was not a man.

But now, alone in your chambers, you were no longer sure of yourself. While, yes, this idea could just fix things within your shattered family, you weren’t exactly sure if everyone involved was on-board with it. 

After your dance with Aemond was cut short due to the King feeling unwell and needing to be escorted back to his chambers, to which Alicent nudged Rhaenyra to follow and spend some moments with him (something that lit a flicker of hope in your chest that things could indeed be mended), you hadn’t managed to speak to him for the rest of the night. Once you returned to the table, you caught Luke giggling under his breath, and when you realized what exactly he was laughing at you were quick to pull him from his seat and request a dance. You swiftly poked Helaena on your way to the open area of the room, who in turn pulled Aemond for a dance before he could notice, signaling her mother to alert the servants to move the offending dish to the middle of the table and away from his seat.

The night ended not long after, Baela and Rhaena keeping you company, the three of you giggling like little girls at the thought of your respective betrothals. However, once you were all excused by the Queen, you didn’t even manage to catch a glimpse of Aemond, who was whisked away by his grandsire with his mother following behind them.

And here you were. Although you had no doubt this plan of yours was the right thing to do, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was what he wanted. Even though you knew this was the right thing for the realm, for your family even, was it the right thing for the two of you? As you stared at your face reflected upon the surface of the water, dark thoughts simmered in your mind. Perhaps you had been blinded by his words regarding his mother’s wishes to find him a wife, or by the resentment he felt towards the treatment his brother received. What if he wanted nothing to do with you? What if he wanted to ascend to the Throne of his own accord, or what if he wanted to be wed to someone else, one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters, maybe?

At least there's no doubt about the purity of their blood.

He could have any woman on the realm if he wished. He was just so regal, all sharp edges and cunning eye, and you were merely… you, your mind tried to convince you.

Would you give up your freedom and be trapped in a loveless marriage just for the sake of your family and the realm?

Not loveless, that nagging voice in the back of your mind spoke out of turn again, just unrequited.

The answer was most definitely yes. You’d rather have him, even if not the whole of his being, than not have him at all. And if you could prevent the realm, and your own family, to succumb into flames and ashes in the process? All the more reason to do so.

Lost in your thoughts you barely heard the unmistakable sound of stone sliding against stone, as the wall suddenly pulled back to reveal the man in question.

“A-Aemond?” you stammered, sliding further into the water in order to preserve some shred of your dignity “What are you doing here?”

A deep, low hum was his only response as he stepped further into the room and closed the secret door behind him. The soft patter against the stone cold floor indicated that he was barefoot; that, along with the white linen shirt and soft looking breeches he was wearing, meant he was just about to go to bed before he decided to come visit you, for whatever reason.

“Qȳbor…” you bristled when he refused to elaborate.

“Can I not visit my future wife’s chambers to check on her well-being, mandianna?” he spoke lowly, his eye never leaving your frame.

“We are not yet married.” you squirmed under the intensity of his gaze “This hardly seems proper.”

He again only hummed, eye flitting around the room, before pulling his shirt over his head.

A sudden heat rushed to your cheeks as you stared at him. Much like you had noticed before, he was slim, his form lithe and elongated, making him appear even taller now that he wasn’t covered in green leather. His muscles, on the other hand, were well defined, taunt under his skin as if sculpted in the finest of marbles, his years of training with a sword under Ser Criston Cole reflected on his flesh.

His lips pulled in a smirk as you basked in his image, swiftly untying and pulling down his breeches as well. That caused you to avert your eyes immediately, going as far as to hide your peripheral vision behind your hand.

“What are you doing?!” you squealed in surprise, not at all expecting him of all people to pull a stunt like this. Aegon? Sure, but him?

“You once told me it was nothing you hadn’t seen before.” he spoke, amusement dripping from his tone as he walked closer to the tub.

“Yes, when we were children. Not like this.”

You felt the ripples of warm water beating against your skin as he joined you in the bath, leaning back against the side of the wooden tub with his legs extended in front of him, only slightly bent at the knees as they brushed softly against your own. You quickly pulled your knees to your chest, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“Why do you hide from me?” he asked, his lips curling in a smirk “You are to be my lady wife, we ought to see each other like this on many occasions.”

“Like I said” you hissed, crossing your arms over your breasts and straightening your spine, his eye following your every move “we are not married yet.” 

He hummed in response, pursing his lips as if annoyed with your resistance, but you could see the mirth swimming in his eye. He extended his arms over the rim of the tub on either side of his body, and when your eyes involuntarily followed his movement, retaining your gaze on his chest for a tad too long, he smirked. Heat burned your cheeks as you averted your eyes, realizing that he enjoyed watching you squirm.

“Why are you here?” you questioned, annoyance simmering in your voice.

He stared at you for a long moment, like he was assessing you, searching for something, but what you couldn’t tell.

“I wanted to see you.” he spoke before glancing away from you, his once jesting tone having turned soft, betraying his sincerity.

That statement had you feeling all your annoyance dissolving, your body uncurling and legs extending closer to him. If you were to be honest with yourself you wanted to see him too, you desperately wished to know what was going through his mind during supper and after. You wished to know what he thought about you.

His mind seemed far away for a moment as he chewed on his lip before his gaze fell on you once more.

“My grandsire had interesting things to say about your proposal.” the corner of his mouth turned up almost imperceptibly “More so than my mother.”

That caught your attention.

“What did he say?”

“She was, albeit vexed by your choice of timing for the delivery of said proposal, delighted.” he completely ignored your question, choosing instead to talk about Alicent Hightower instead of Otto “Like I mentioned earlier, she’s been nagging me to find a wife, and now you’ve just delivered the solution on a silver platter for her.” his smile softened “She wished to know if I was happy with this arrangement.”

“And what did you say?” your throat felt as dry as the Dornish desert, and you wondered if he could hear you swallow nervously. But from the way his grin turned again into a smirk you knew you wouldn’t get the answers you craved for.

“My grandsire on the other hand was perfectly satisfied.” he shrugged, as if Otto Hightower’s opinion didn’t truly matter to him “He believes the Seven have answered mother’s prayers of having one of us be crowned king, and that this gives us the perfect opportunity to seize the throne for ourselves.”

“What?” you physically recoiled, shoulders curling into yourself once more, as if you were physically struck by his words.

“He told me” he continued, either not noticing your reaction or wanting to push forward regardless “that when time came for us to be crowned, you and I, I was to usurp you of your ‘birthright’ and be crowned the sole King of the Seven Kingdoms.”

You let your arms drop from their position over your chest, not even being able to revel in the way pink dusted Aemond’s cheeks as his eye followed down our body to your now exposed breasts, so much was your shock. You felt so stupid, so humiliatingly naive in having believed such a ridiculous idea could ever work. Otto Hightower would never respect you, or your mother, or any possible daughters you came to have simply because you were all women. Just remembering the way you stood before him, before your entire family, before Aemond himself and said those foolish and rehearsed words, dragged yourself practically as low as the streets at Flea Bottom, made your eyes sting in embarrassment. 

You were so caught up in your own swirling thoughts you barely noticed Aemond’s smirk slipping from his face, a frown now adorning his features.

“You cannot possibly believe I would do such a thing.” he let his own arms fall back into the water, his back straightening as he looked at you almost… hurt? “Do you truly think so lowly of me?”

You couldn’t hold his stare any longer, shame clawing at your chest and climbing up your throat. The truth was you didn’t know him. It’s been six long years since you’d last spoken, you couldn’t possibly know who he was anymore. Had he turned out like Aegon? Or had his grandsire shaped him in his image, a mere puppet for him to manipulate and do his bidding for him?

His stare hardened, a resigned exhale leaving him as extended a hand in your direction.

“Come here.” 

You didn’t dare move a muscle, too scared to embarrass yourself even further. That wouldn’t do it for him tho, if the annoyance that took over his features was anything to go by, and his hand found your ankle underwater and tugged. Hard. Unexpectedly you found yourself almost on top of him, holding onto his naked shoulders for balance as the contents of the tub sloshed around the two of you and over onto the ground.

“Aemond-!” you chastised him, trying to pull away but one of his arms snaked around your waist, holding you firmly in place. Something about the whole situation, the way his eye was locked on yours, as if studying you, felt strangely intimate, making your heart skip a beat. 

Then, with the lightest of touches, he grabbed one of your hands almost reverently, removing it from its place on his shoulder and holding it in his own, the back of your hand against his palm so your own was facing up. He brought it closer to his face, examining it closely, his thumb caressing your skin in slow movements. Where his palms were calloused, you noticed, his fingers were silkily soft, the gentleness in his touch making shivers run down your spine and goosebumps prickle your skin all the way up your arm.

“Your line of life is quite long, thankfully.” he hummed, not taking his eye off your palm, so he didn’t notice the confusion brimming in your eyes “And your line of heart not only tilts upwards, but it is also incredibly long, almost touching the place where your palm meets your fingers, right here.” 

“And what does that mean?” you whispered, not daring to speak any louder for it might break the spell that befell upon the two of you.

“You will be the most beloved woman in the entire realm.” he whispered back, his eye finally meeting yours, a storm of emotions threatening to spill over in the form of unshed tears “Your lord husband would burn the whole of the Seven Kingdoms to the ground just to see you smile.” 

Wetness dripped down your cheeks but you could no longer distinguish between tears and the lukewarm water from the bath. Your heart clenched and twisted painfully in your chest as his gaze turned to your palm once more.

“And would you look at that,” Aemond gently turned your palm towards you, pointer finger tapping against a faint line near your wrist “it’s the line of the king. Or should I say queen.” he glanced at you once more, a soft smile growing on his lips “You once told me it only appeared on the hands of those destined to rule over the realm.” 

You bit down hard on your bottom lip, a choked sob threatening to escape, desperately clinging to his every word.

“I may not be like my sister, for the future eludes me.” the arm around your waist tightened its grip, bringing you even closer to him as he rested his forehead against your own, bringing your intertwined hands close to his chest “But if there is one thing I can promise you is that you will be queen.” his next breath came out of his lips trembling with barely contained emotion “And I’ll be right by your side when that happens.”

The sound that left your lips was a perfect blend of a laugh and a sob, your lips quivering as you tried so very hard not to collapse into his arms as all your previous worries vanished. His own face lit up in a genuine, full blown smile that brightened his face; you couldn’t even remember when the last time he allowed himself to smile as brightly as he was now. It suited him.

Warmth filled your chest, quickly climbing up to your face, as he nuzzled his nose against yours, but one detail made you pull back. His face twisted in confusion, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the line of his scar.

“I wish to see all of you.” you spoke softly.

“You already have me bare before you, woman. What more could you possibly want?” Aemond tried jesting but you could notice the way his entire body tensed against your touch.

“I want to see all of you.” you whispered, thumb catching against the edge of his eyepatch.

Before you could lift it, though, his hand shot out unexpectedly, halting your movements by encircling your wrist. His fingers were firm against your skin, but his touch didn’t hurt; you didn’t think he ever could, not again. You didn’t press any further, nor did you retreat, waiting for him to either give you permission to continue or push you away. He did neither. Instead, his other hand reached up and removed the eyepatch from his face, throwing it somewhere around the room.

You didn’t truly know what exactly you were expecting but were surprised all the same. Where you believed you’d find an empty socket lay a small round sapphire, hidden from the world beneath his eyepatch most of the time. It was alluring, glimmering under the light emitted from the candles, contributing to his mystifying nature. His grip on your wrist loosened, and you took this as an opportunity to cradle his jaw, tilting his head to be able to see his eye from different angles. The gem suited him, the deep blue contrasting with the violet of his other eye.

“Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?” you breathed out.

“Not a single soul.” he shook his head, his own breath coming out trembled.

“Well, then, they are utterly blind, the lot of them.” you caressed the corner of his mouth, bringing your own lips impossibly closer to his “You are beautiful, Aemond.”

Something shifted in him, the last of his restrain melting away under your touch, as he leaned forward and closed the gap between your lips, sealing them in a tentative kiss. His lips were a contradiction on their own. For a man so taunt and sharp and strong, his lips were incredibly soft, akin to his voice, as strange as the comparison sounded. He kissed you unhurriedly, almost chastely, his hands finding hold in your waist. You pulled back for a moment and his lips chased your own, unwilling to part from you just yet. 

His mouth then started tracing a path of lazy kisses down your body, first against your jaw, then slowly down your neck. It was when his grip on your waist tightened, trying to bring your hips closer to his own, that you pulled back, a hand against his chest.

“We can’t.” you mumbled regretfully. He tried sitting up again, get closer to you once more, but you pushed him back gently, cupping his face in both your hands “Aemond, please.” 

“Why must you deprive me of what I long for so desperately?” he whined against your lips.

“I cannot risk losing you…” you exhaled, voice barely above a whisper. 

It was his turn to pull back, eyebrows curling in confusion, and you knew he wouldn’t let you go without an explanation.

“When I was close to reaching marrying age, mother pulled me aside to explain some of the more… intricate details of what goes on between a husband and a wife.” you shrugged, the same embarrassment you felt back then flooding you now, before you sighed “She also told me what befell her before she married my father.”

Realization dawned upon him, remembering all the times his mother uttered words unbefitting of a queen to address not only her successor, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but also a former dear friend. Words more suited to the women who worked on the Street of Silk. From what he had gathered over the years this was the very last nail on the coffin of their friendship.

“I will not allow the same to happen to me.” your tone and your eyes alike hardened, fingers grasping his face more firmly as you forced his gaze to remain on you. Not that he could look at anything else with the way you spoke with such determination “I will not allow my virtue to be made a spectacle of, I will not give the opportunity for some lesser man from a little house to question it, to question me.”

Aemond couldn’t help but swallow thickly, the fierceness in your voice doing humorous things to his heart. 

“If I was born a man this wouldn’t be a concern, but alas I was not.” something in you softened, fingers letting go of his cheeks and sliding softly to cradle the place where his jaw met his ears “If your mother so much as hears word of any misdemeanor, at least in her eyes, on my part she will tear us apart. Kesan daor ivestragī zirȳla gūrogon ao hen nyke.”

I will not let her take you from me.

When questioned later, he wouldn’t be able to tell you what came over him, but something inside his very soul snapped as he surged forward, claiming your lips in a desperate kiss. His lips moved against yours with the intensity of a man starved, like he was overcome in a thirst only your mouth could quench. It was passionate, it was harsh, it was… honestly kind of clumsy, all tongue and clashing teeth, like he didn’t truly know what he was doing. Huh. You would store this information away for later.

He pulled back with the last bit of self control he had, practically whimpering when your lips parted, resting his head on the crook of your neck. 

“Kesan umbagon.” his breath was labored as he spoke, placing a tiny kiss on your shoulder before raising his head to look at you “I will always wait for you, ābrazȳrys.”

Your heart soared at the term, but when he went to gently move you away from him so he could stand up you gripped his hand to stop him.

“Stay.” you pleaded “Just a little while longer, please.”

Aemond smiled lovingly, helping maneuver you so you were sat between his legs, with your back against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder. His arms wrapped protectively around you, his fingers absently drawing patterns against the skin of your arm. The water from the tub had since run cold but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you were in his arms.

Aōha valzȳrys. Aōha dārys.

High Valyrian translations: - qȳbor - uncle (mother’s younger brother) - mandianna - niece (older sister’s son or daughter) - kesan umbagon - I will wait - ābrazȳrys - wife - aōha valzȳrys - your husband - aōha dārys - your king

Also, this two were getting quite steamy while Viserys was literally dying in the other room. At least this time Rhaenyra was the one with him so, you know, no mixing up names this time (I stand by my argument that if Alicent’s eldest son was called Godofredo none of this would have happened, but the Targaryens were not known for their creativity when naming their children).

Tag List:

@callsignwidow

@sleephereicome

[breadbrobin]

hello, hello!! first of all, i just wanna tell you that your fics got me kickin' my feet and shi. with that said, can i request a luke castellan x gn! reader where reader is a minor god's kid and so they're staying at cabin 11 it was just this fluffy thing where luke and them are just being domestic and all that, like almost acting like parents to the younger kids? i'm such a sucker for domestic fluff it's INSANE

lego blocks

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[gn!child of eos reader]

summary: parental figures are hard to come by at camp half-blood, so you and luke (barely old enough to not need them yourselves) take up the mantle where you can. and, well, it’s the hermes cabin, so it’s a little more chaotic than anyone bargained for.

warnings: like two minor swear words, pure fluff, kissing, reader is called pretty (but reader is still gn)

word count: 1.4k

(hiiii omg thank you for this request it’s so cute and was so fun to write!! and thank you for your compliments ahhh you’re so sweet! AND DOMESTIC FLUFF IS WHERE ITS AT FR i can’t believe i haven’t written any before smhhhh)

——————————————

scarcely a day in the hermes cabin went by without an injury, an issue or an altercation.

just in the last week alone, you’d seen a fist fight, an argument, many stolen belongings, three bad nightmares and six threats of death or violence. it was your job (unofficially) to diffuse the tension. and it was luke’s job (officially) to have your back.

just like every morning, you woke up at dawn. as a child of eos, goddess of the dawn, you were always awake with the sun. the moment dawn struck, you, like the apollo cabin, snapped awake. it was something you’d complained with them about many times, but it eventually became something you found yourself at least trying to enjoy.

you slipped out of bed quietly and padded across the dim cabin to the door, stepping out onto the porch to watch as the sky turned from dark blues to soft pinks.

just as the sun was beginning to peek through the trees, you heard footsteps behind you.

“morning,” luke’s gravelly morning voice reached you as he rested his chin on your shoulder and hugged you from behind. “pretty today.”

“it is,” you sighed contently, leaning back into him.

he yawned. “meant you.”

you smiled and turned in his arms, pressing a kiss just beside his lips. he pouted.

“brush your teeth first, and then i’ll kiss you properly,” you teased.

he just sighed a little, a small gracing his face, before looking away to watch the sunrise.

you had only around ten minutes before you had to wake everyone else in the cabin up, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to enjoy the peaceful quiet and sweet chirping of birds in the trees for as long as you could.

it would become hectic later, when you had to rouse everyone from their sleep and rush them to the dining pavilion for breakfast. you never enjoyed it, and you often wondered how luke had managed it on his own before you came along. so you soaked up the sun rays peeking through the leaves, watching as the world around you turned from blue to gold in a dazzling array of colours that made you ever grateful for your parentage, and relaxed in the warmth of luke’s embrace. the peace wouldn’t last for long. it never did.

“tom, put the knife down!” you called across the room as you moved a chess piece along the board. a groan came from a few bunks over and the sound of a knife hitting the floor echoed. “and, max, will you please stop trying to fight jennifer? she’s gonna kick your ass again, and i’m not even gonna tell her off or patch you up.”

a disappointed, “fine!” came back in return, followed by jennifer’s teasing.

“jennifer!”

“sorry!” she replied.

your chess opponent, a young girl you were almost sure was a daughter of athena, scowled at your move and studied the board, giving you a chance to look around at the hermes cabin.

it was your scheduled downtime between activities and dinner, and while some of the residents of cabin 11 were out around camp, many were inside playing games or hanging out. so, that was where you were—diffusing the tension every time you had to and pretending to enjoy chess because sandy really wanted to play, and who were you to deny her hobbies?

two hands landed on your shoulders and a kiss pressed to your cheek. you could smell the familiar scent of pine, sword polish and leather—luke.

“hey, babe,” he said softly. “any issues?”

sandy moved a piece on the board. “check.”

“again?” you leaned forward in shock. “okay, uh… yeah, the only issue is how i win this game, actually. oh, and tom’s got that knife back somehow and he won’t stop threatening khalid with it. i’m a little concerned about them. max and jen should be fine now, but maybe check on them? oh, and make sure callie hasn’t stolen any snacks again? last time, she got really sick and—“

“and we stayed up all night making sure she was okay, i remember. i’ll check on presley too. make sure he’s not drawing on the walls again.” luke patted your shoulders gently as he stepped away. “i got it. you focus on winning.”

“i’m trying,” you pouted. realistically, you weren’t too bad at chess. however, you felt like it was only fair to give sandy a chance to show off, since she’d been in the hermes cabin, unclaimed, for a month now. you knew how that felt. before your mother claimed you, you’d been unclaimed for just under two months. in all fairness, you’d always flown under the radar, until your sunshine and smiles reputation breached the walls you’d attempted to build up and you started dating the golden boy of camp half-blood. the second that had happened, just over seven months ago, everything changed. suddenly, you had respect, appreciation, love, family. so maybe you didn’t have your own cabin. and maybe you were stuck in one that was full to the brim of kids. and maybe you had to be somewhat of a parent for many of those kids—those who missed their families, who had never had families, who had never had a place to call their own. but did you mind? not at all. it would have been impossible without luke though. it was like he could read your mind sometimes. he knew, just as well as you did, all of the ins and outs of the kids in your cabin, how to appease the older kids, entertain the younger ones, and make sure the cabin was still standing by the end of the day. you’d never know what you did in a past life to deserve him, but it had to have been something goddamn saintly.

finally, you moved a piece. you knew it would easily put you in checkmate, but you didn’t mind.

sandy’s eyes lit up. she moved her knight into position and looked up at you, grinning widely. “checkmate!”

“no way!” you protested. “how did you even—?”

“i’m good at chess.” she blushed a little.

“uh, yeah, you are.” you extended a hand over the small table to her. “good game.”

“good game.” she shook your hand with a smile and skipped away to gloat to her friends.

luke’s arm slipped around your shoulders as he sat next to you. “you let her win?”

“no, of course not,” you lied with a smile. “and if i did i’d never compromise my dignity by telling you.”

you could see his smile out of the corner of your eye. “sure. my bad.”

you hummed and turned to kiss him, but just before your lips could meet, a resounding “ew!!” echoed through the cabin.

you pulled away to see what was going on. maybe another bug needed dealing with? or someone had thrown up or wet their pants? no. everyone was staring at you and luke. you frowned. “wait, what?”

“you guys were about to kiss,” tom cringed, somehow holding a new knife. “that’s gross.”

luke laughed while you shook your head in amusement.

“it’s not gross!” you protested. “and put that knife down.”

“it is!” one of the slightly older girls exclaimed as tom dropped the knife on his bunk with a groan.

murmurs of agreement followed.

you laughed along with luke as he cupped your cheek in his hand and kissed you, deliberately slow and sweet, much to the chagrin of the campers around you.

you pulled away first, laughing, as someone threw a lego block at you and luke, hitting you in the arm lightly.

“hey!” luke laughed and tossed it back in their general direction. “no one throws lego blocks at my partner.”

before either of you could do anything, lego blocks were flying.

through your laughs and trying to hide behind luke as a shield, you could only feel love for your boyfriend and the kids you both chose to spend your time looking after. despite the fact that they threw legos at you, and despite the fact that you weren’t related to any of them. this was your family. a messed up, too big, far too crowded unit of kids and teenagers, all crammed in one room, connected by two things alone: the fact that you were all thrust into this messed up magical world with no preparation, and love.

and lego blocks, apparently.

[birdiewriteslit]

Hi ! I just love your writing ! ❤️ Also, I was wondering if you could write a story in which the reader is Thalia’s sister and dating Luke. The reader always thought that Luke liked Thalia and thinks that Luke only dates her because she reminds him of Thalia. She shares her doubts with Annabeth who tries to comfort her and Luke overhears their conversation. Then Luke talks to the reader about it reassuring he loves her for her and it’s all fluffy. Also, to add little angst, the reader has been traumatized by Thalia’s “transformation” and beats herself up thinking that it’s her fault that her sister is a tree.

thank you so much! sure, i can do this!!

luke castellan x daughter of zeus!reader

warnings: angst, self doubt, trauma, fluff at the end

sorry if this is bad i haven’t written angst in a hot minute

Your memory of the day you arrived at camp was still as vivid as it was when it happened. You, Grover, Annabeth, Luke, and your little sister were on the run from a horde of monsters, all of them attracted to the strong scent of the daughters of Zeus.

You were sprinting up the hill, breath ragged. Luke, Annabeth, and Grover were ahead of you. “We’re almost there!” Grover shouted. “Just keep running!”

You were exhausted, running for days with no help from any of your godly parents, but you had to keep going.

You looked back to make sure Thalia hadn’t fallen behind, but she had her shield up, showing Medusa’s face to the monsters that were catching up.

“We can’t outrun them!” she yelled. “I can slow them down, go on without me!”

Thalia started to run toward the monsters, but you grabbed her arm. “I can’t let you go. We can make it, please try to keep going.”

“I have to! Aegis will keep them at bay for a little while. It’s me they’re following,” she reasoned, her eyes stormy and unyielding.

“Thalia, don’t. They want me too. I’ll go instead, I won’t let you die for me,” you proposed desperately.

“You’re always doing things for me, let me do this for you. Let me repay my big sister.” She pulled her arm out of your grasp and turned to run at the monsters before you could stop her.

“Come on!” Grover yelled from the top of the hill, Annabeth and Luke now far in front of him. “They’re catching up!”

“I’m not leaving her!” you protested. Grover met you in the middle and grabbed hold of your arm, practically dragging you to camp as you shouted several curses at him. “Let me go!”

“I can’t. My mission is to get you across that border, and I’m not letting two of you die for the rest of us.” Grover was gritting his teeth, struggling to keep hold of you as you made it across the boundary.

You watched in horror as Thalia jabbed with her spear and missed, the Fury’s whip coming down hard and hitting her over the head, knocking her to the ground. She didn’t get up.

The biggest lightning bolt you’d ever seen struck the ground, sending the hellhounds into a panic. The monsters retreated, half victorious, as they only managed to kill one of you.

From the place where Thalia died, a large pine was growing rapidly out of the ground, and a magical force field spread across the woods, strengthening the border you just crossed.

Luke grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to turn away from the scene. His eyes were cast to the ground. He couldn’t look. “Come on,” he said, his voice breaking.

You walked past the strawberry fields with Luke’s arm around your shoulders keeping you stable. You couldn’t say anything. You knew that if you did, you would break down.

Annabeth was sobbing beside Grover, who was leading the three of you to the Big House, where Chiron stood on the porch, looking solemn. You weren’t even shocked by his centaur form. The image of Thalia’s body hitting the ground was still replaying in your mind.

You woke with a start, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Five years later, and you still had nightmares like this. It was always the same scene over and over. You could never escape that night.

You slowly sat up in your bed, pulling the covers back and placing your feet on the cold marble floor. You rubbed at your eyes, sighing as you knelt at your father’s statue in the middle of the cabin.

You never shared this space with Thalia, but you missed her like you had. Sometimes you would dream of her and you when you were small, and you would expect to wake up and see her asleep on the other side of the room.

You stared into the reflecting pool around the statue, barely recognizing who was looking back at you. The girl in the water was tired, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

Looking up at your father’s carved face, you felt that familiar feeling of resentment. He had never helped you. When you were on the run, the only gift he gave was weapons for you and Thalia to defend yourselves with.

After you were claimed, it was like you never existed to him. He never answered your prayers, and he was never there for you when you needed him.

When you needed help facing Ladon on Luke’s quest, he was absent from the sky. You were forced to return to camp, two failures who learned to never rely the gods for help.

Luke was the only one you could relate to in that way. After that quest, you thought of each other differently. Finding that common ground changed your friendship into something more.

Sometimes you wondered if Luke saw Thalia when he looked at you. There would be moments where he would look at you like your sister was staring back, and he would get this sad glint in his eyes.

You certainly didn’t see her in your reflection. You’d looked for so long to find something that reminded you of her, but you could never find something good.

You had an aggression problem, which was about the only thing about you that resembled your sister. The only people you got along with were your boyfriend, Annabeth, and Grover.

Everybody at camp stayed clear of you anyways, as they were afraid of what you might do to them. Of course, you were more powerful than the others, and they were scared of that.

The day was off to a rough start. You were fifteen minutes late for breakfast, and when you entered the pavilion, heads turned. You were used to getting stared at, so you were able to ignore it.

You ate by yourself, keeping your head down. After breakfast, your first activity of the day was Ancient Greek with Annabeth.

You were reading out a boring passage to her when she stopped you at the end of a paragraph. “Are you having nightmares again?” she asked tentatively.

You looked up from the book. “Why do you ask?”

“You were late to breakfast. You’ve been looking so tired this past week. I’m worried. Luke’s worried. He says you’ve been distant,” she analyzed.

You sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been having them again. It’s the same as it’s always been.” You rubbed your hands over your tired eyes. “I can’t get it out of my head.”

“You haven’t told Luke?”

“No, I don’t want to stress him out. Besides, he probably sees enough of Thalia in me. Honestly, I think that’s why he’s with me. We all lost her that night, and he just needs something to remind him of her,” you confessed gloomily, picking at the corners of the pages.

Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What are you talking about? Luke has liked you as long as I’ve known you. Thalia meant a lot to him, but you’re different from her. You mean something different to him.”

“Do you really think that’s why I’m with you?” Luke said, rounding the corner of the porch and making himself known. He had a hurt expression on his face.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Annabeth said awkwardly, standing up from her chair and hurrying away from the Big House.

“Luke, I-“

“I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but you can’t really think that.” He sat down next to you and pulled your hands away from the book pages. “Annabeth’s right, I’ve liked you forever. Thalia was like a little sister to me. The only time you remind me of her is when you get angry, and I’m not with you because of your anger,” he reassured, trying to make you believe him.

“Why are you with me?” Your voice came out small, and you were afraid of what he would say.

He shook his head, taking your face in his hands. “So many reasons. You’re smart, brave, and resourceful. You’re strong and beautiful. Honestly, you could name anything you don’t like about yourself and I promise you that I would love you regardless.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” he said sincerely.

You took a deep breath, ready to be honest with him. “In my nightmares, I see us on the night Thalia died. I see the moment she slipped away from me and I left her to fight on her own. I’m such a bad sister,” you admitted, voice breaking a little.

Luke looked pained at your words. His thumb was quick to wipe away a tear that had fallen. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Thalia was stubborn, once she got an idea in her head she wouldn’t let it go. You know that. If we let you go too, we would’ve lost you both. We couldn’t risk that.”

You were silent, taking in his reasoning and knowing that he was right. You leaned forward and kissed his lips softly. “Thank you, Luke,” you said quietly, resting your forehead against his.

“Of course.” He pushed a stray hair behind your ear. “Do you want me to sleep in your cabin tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright.” Luke pulled away and smiled at you. “What do you say we go zap some Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields?”

“That sounds like a great idea.” You grinned, already feeling much better.

[vesora]

all you got to do is sit there and look pretty: loa edition

DISCLAIMER: this was written before a series of realisations, the main point still stands but the subconscious mind does not exist. it is simply awareness. let go and let god.

one thing i have noticed, even in myself, is that we have this need to keep doing something. i need to keep affirming, i need to keep forcing myself into a state, i need to keep focusing on my thoughts or else it won’t manifest. all these thoughts have a common link, a fear of not manifesting, or rather, the 3D not conforming. 

it’s not our fault. we have been primed to think this way. work this hard and you’ll get (x). this is not the way it’s supposed to be. with the law, we break free. 

i need you to know that it’s okay if you’re consciously not thinking from your desire all the time. it’s okay that you don’t feel okay with entering another state if this one is too traumatic for you. relax and know the you on the outside, does not manifest.

who manifests then?

our inner self; our subconscious mind. our subconscious mind is us, but unlike our conscious selves, it is also the Universal Mind, meaning it knows all, it has all knowledge and power stored inside it. our job is to give the subconscious mind a job. as the conscious mind, we hold the key to decide to let what the subcon should manifest and not. we are the guard, we don’t manifest. 

all we really have to do is be still and let God, and by God i do not mean some external being, i mean our subconscious mind; our true self. letting go and detaching doesn’t mean you will stop caring about what you’re manifesting, it simply means that you know that the subconscious will handle it for you. because the subconscious IS you, it’s a robot that only listens to YOUR command. it cannot be influenced by any other force. 

experience 

for the past few days, when i made the unfavourable circumstances post, i was feeling so incredibly awful. i felt i had no reason to live, because i thought me as the conscious sora, was responsible for changing my life. while that is true to an extent, all i have to do is give an order. i told my subconscious mind that night to fix everything for me because i was tired and the next day, all the things that were causing me distress got solved. the next day i had an even better day, because the subconscious really fixed the things causing me stress. life was peaceful again.

it was then i realised that i have been too attached with doing things right, when all i had to do was sit there and look pretty while my subconscious does the work. 

another success happened just now! my browser froze and i didnt save this post. i panicked for a second then i was like “sora you just wrote a post about your subcon fixing things”; so i told my subcon “hey man fix this pls” and it did! lol browser is back to normal which is how ur seeing this post rn

what if my subconscious doesn’t listen?

anything that happens regarding these things is a direct reflection of you. inner creates outer, not the other way around. so, any failure is not because the technique failed, it’s because you haven’t changed self yet. and what changes self? persistence. you must keep persisting because the subconcious HAS NO CHOICE but to listen to you. if it ‘doesn’t’, DON’T ACCEPT IT. 

persistence

And He said unto them, Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and say unto him, Friend, lend me three loaves; for a friend of mine in his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him? And he from within shall answer and say, Trouble me not; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee. I say unto you, Though he will not rise and give him, because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth. And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. Luke 11:5-9

in this verse that neville also referenced, we can see that the man did not give up. in fact, importunity means: the act of making intrusions, being unrelenting, consistent. unrelenting, he never took no for an answer. he kept going and going and going until the man decided to give him bread. do not take no for an answer. do not settle. even if the door seems shut, you will ALWAYS be the key to open it; there is no other choice. keep telling your subconscious mind that you are rich, you are beautiful, you are everything and your subconscious mind will have no choice but to reflect that onto the 3D because that is its job.

excerpt from power of awareness:

“THERE ARE three principal characters in this quotation, you and the two friends mentioned.

The first friend is a desired state of consciousness .

The second friend is a desire seeking fulfillment.

Three is the symbol of wholeness, completion.

Loaves symbolize substance.

The shut door symbolizes the senses which separate the seen from the unseen.

Children in bed means ideas that are dormant.

Inability to rise means a desired state of consciousness cannot rise to you, you must rise to it.

Importunity means demanding persistency, a kind of brazen impudence.

Ask, seek, and knock mean assuming the consciousness of already having what you desire.

Thus the scriptures tell you that you must persist in rising to (assuming) the consciousness of your wish already being fulfilled. The promise is definite that if you are shameless in your impudence in assuming that you already have that which your senses deny, it shall be given unto you – your desire shall be attained.”

[bern-the-bridge]

Why the TV Show Version of Luke is a Better Person Than the Book Version

(Percy Jackson and the Olympians Spoilers)

While I will not argue about which version of Luke is a better character or better written, I can confidently say that the show version is a better person than the book version, and we see this mostly in the finale.

But before that, let’s go over what the book version of Luke did that the show version didn’t do.

1) Go unnecessarily hard on Percy during training, especially after he found out that he was the son of Poseidon.

2) When asked about who might have stolen the master bolt, imply that Annabeth could have in an attempt to plant seeds of distrust between them.

3) Immediately try to kill Percy after he got back to camp.

The show version of Luke is blatantly more sympathetic to Percy than the book version. He doesn’t antagonize Percy for succeeding on his quest or for gaining his father’s approval. In fact, he actually tries to recruit Percy at first. He doesn’t want to fight him.

However, the extent of the show version of Luke’s compassion can be seen with what he did for Clarisse. Or rather, what he didn’t do.

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were the ones who came up with the idea that Clarisse stole the master bolt. Luke just went along with it. They even asked Luke to warn Chiron and the rest of the camp about her. It would have been trivially easy. Whether Chiron believed him or not would have been irrelevant. Either way, it would have helped his plan immensely, since he would still be sowing discord into the camp.

But Luke didn’t do that. And by not telling Chiron, they were able to figure his plan out. So why didn’t he do it?

Simple. Because he sympathizes with Clarisse.

I haven’t gotten a good look at how many beads Clarisse has, but it’s clearly around the same number as Luke and Annabeth, so it can be assumed that she’s been at camp for about the same amount of time as them, which is longer than most of the other campers. In fact, it’s not improbable that they were all in the Hermes cabin at one point while they were still unclaimed. And she’s one of the handful of campers confirmed to stay at camp all year round.

And Luke understands Clarisse. He understands her desperate obsession for glory. He understands her longing for her father’s affection. He understands her frustration when she is repeatedly ignored. He understands her contempt when her father finally does pay attention to her but it doesn’t go the way she wants. He understands her resentment towards heroes like Percy who seem to do the impossible without any training, with a seemingly perfect home life, getting both a mommy and daddy who love him.

It wouldn’t have been right to frame Clarisse. Actually, it would have gone against everything Luke was actively fighting for. All of the misdeeds Luke commits, it’s for the sake of his fellow demigods. And no matter what your opinions are about the show, this version of Luke reminds us of that.

[purplephantomwolf]

Love in Motion

Chatper Two

Synopsis: You are a normal college student until you get a wrong number text.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings: None

Previous chapter: Chapter One

Masterlist

I AM REWRITING THIS FROM AN OC STORY. IF I MISS ANYTHING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN FIX IT! THIS IS CHAPTER 2 OF 5 OF ALREADY WRITTEN CHAPTERS. I AM REWRITING THIS FROM AN OC STORY. IF I MISS ANYTHING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN FIX IT! THIS IS CHAPTER 1 OF 5 OF ALREADY WRITTEN CHAPTERS.

April 5, 2022 6:30 PM

Your phone vibrates, pulling your attention away from the code you are currently working on. You smile as Luke’s name flashes up on the screen.

Luke: Good morning, Y/n

You: Good morning, Luke

Luke: Did you sleep well and have a good day?

You: I did! Did you sleep well and have a good day as well? What did you do during the day?

Luke: I did too! I spent the day putting some finishing touches on an event for this weekend. Did you watch any more F1 during class today?

You: No, I was a good student today. But I’ve got a Monza quali on as I work on my code.

Luke: Ahh, that was an exciting weekend for McLaren.

You: Shhhh! Don’t say anything! I don’t know the results!

Luke: Sorry! My lips are sealed.

You: I know that Max obviously wins the championship, but that’s literally all I know about the season. I’ve managed to not see any of the results.

Luke: How have you managed that?

You: I know literally no one who watches F1, so no one to spoil it for me.

Luke: Well, now you have a friend to talk to about it.

You: I do! You’re going to get a bunch of texts on Saturdays and Sundays about it.

Luke: That sounds good to me. I won’t be able to respond to them because those are my busy days.

You: Sounds good. I’ll try to not overwhelm you with texts then.

Luke: Alright. Do you want to continue our game of 21 questions?

You: Sure, it was your turn to ask a question!

Luke: Okay, going to go deep here. What’s your biggest fear?

You: Damn, that is deep. But I think it’s not having no one. I fear that I’m going to end up alone, with no friends, no significant other. My turn to go deep. What do you do to cope when things get hard?

Luke: I go to my family and friends. I talk to them about what’s going on and what I’m struggling with. What’s your favourite thing about yourself, physically and not physically?

You: Physically, my eyes. Not physically, probably my ability to get along with everyone. What’s your biggest pet peeve about social media?

Luke: The hate that everyone dishes out because they’re behind a screen. It’s awful to see the things people comment on posts of the drivers and their friends, just because they’re behind a screen.

You: I’m sure. I personally dislike social media, so I’m not really on it. I’m only on TikTok and Discord.

Luke: No Instagram? No Twitter?

You: Not even Facebook.

Luke: Damn, I wish I could do that. I have to do it for my job.

You: Yeah, it’s nice not having to worry about putting up a facade for my fellow college students to hate on.

Luke: Yeah, that’s nice. So, photography. Your photos are excellent. How did you get so good?

You: Well, my grandpa was a photographer for a while. I used to spend a lot of time in his studio, so I kind of picked things up from him. Then I took some classes in high school. I’ve luckily managed to find time each week to take photos in college, so I haven’t lost my skills.

Luke: That’s awesome. You mentioned that your parents won’t let you do photography. Why don’t you find a job in it and then move out?

You: I’ve thought about it. But there’s no jobs that I’ve seen that I would be interested in.

Luke: That sucks, I’m sorry.

You: It’s okay! I’ve been keeping an eye out though.

Luke: Okay, so what got you interested in Formula 1?

You: I saw a TikTok of one of the drivers one time and was like “He’s kinda cute and funny, wonder what he does.” Which led me down a rabbit hole that ended in an obsession with learning everything I can about the sport.

Luke: Interesting. Which driver was it?

You: It was Charles, but then I was watching some old McLaren content of Carlos and Lando the same day, and Lando became my favorite.

Luke: So Lando has always been your favourite?

You: I’d say that, yeah. What got you into the F1 world?

Luke: I had a friend that was in karting when I was a kid. He got me interested in the industry, and I thought it would be fun to plan the events for the drivers and fans.

You: That’s fun! As much as I’d love to continue this conversation, I should go be a good student and work on my homework.

Luke: Oh! Sorry for distracting you!

You: It’s okay! I’ll talk to you once I’m done with my assignment?

Luke: Yeah! Sounds good to me!

You: Perfect! Talk to you later!

Luke: Bye Y/n!

You put your phone down and focus back on your assignment. You groan seeing that you still have five errors left. You hunker down and start making your way through the errors.

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

9 pm

You: I am back. I have completed the god awful homework.

Luke: That’s a win. So, tell me a little about yourself.

You: Well, what do you want to know?

Luke: Anything you want to tell me.

You: Well, I’m a 20 year old software engineering college student. My birthday is May 17. My favorite color is purple. I love watching YouTube, specifically Smii7y. I absolutely love music, I’m always listening to it. I like art and creative activities. Tell me a little about yourself now.

Luke: Well, I’m a 21 year old event manager for McLaren F1 racing team. My birthday is November 13. I love traveling the world and taking photos, too. I love hanging out with my friends and family.

You yawn as you read Luke’s message. You rub your eyes, trying to stay awake to continue the conversation.

You: I am currently fighting sleep so hard.

Luke: Go to sleep. We can talk tomorrow.

You: Okay, sounds good. Good night, Luke. Talk to you tomorrow.

Luke: Good night, Y/n. Talk to you tomorrow.

Next Chapter: Chapter Three

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

Permanent tag list:

@sol3chu

@faithshouseofchaos

Story tag list:

@anotherapollokid

[invisibleperiwinkle]

i haven’t seen may people talk about this but it’s one of my main gripes with the percy jackson show so here we go.

annabeths character is so poorly written.

and before we begin, leah is an AMAZING actress and i’m PUMPED for her and black girls everywhere who can see themselves represented in such a badass character.

that being said, the folks in the writers room are FAILING annabeth. her character in the show is incredibly one dimensional, and again it’s not at the fault of the actress, the writers simply aren’t writing the character well. which breaks my heart for two reasons

1) there’s representation for a strong independent black character but if you take away all the things that makes annabeth such a cool and interesting character it feels so tacked on and not cared for. if you want to have representation do the character justice so the moment is important. not just lack luster and anti climactic

2) the writer of the books is writing the show. and rick has forgotten his own characters. which isn’t new information but it never stops pissing me off.

annabeth is a character i see myself in a lot, so having her not be written well for the show is so upsetting. the fact being she isn’t a hard character to write. she’s smart (of course), calculated, but also very reserved. these are the parts of her we see, but even then not much of it.

the moments i feel took so much character development away from her were

a) not having the spiders in the tunnel o’ love

b) not having her play fetch with cerberus

c) the zoo truck scene not being focused on percy and annabeth getting to know each others backstories and more making it “oooo guys did you know they fall in love with each other in four books?!?!?!??”

d) the aunty em scene being changed and not getting to see annabeth just be a kid for five minutes and want to eat burgers and fries

e) annabeth not being giddy over the gateway arch/not playing the architecture game in the lotus hotel

f) ZERO trace of her crush on luke

annabeth is a very closed off character but those moments in particular showcase her being more human and also the trust she has in percy to let him see that side of her.

A) while yes, we do get to see annabeth scared in the tunnel o’ love scene thinking she’s going to lose percy, there’s a difference in the fear of thinking you lost your best friend vs seeing something you’re genuinely scared of.

the mechanical spiders are so huge to annabeths development because she lets percy see her scared and not just this strong wall of calculations she’s been portrayed as this whole time.

it makes her seem more human. we remember she’s still just a 12 year old girl who’s spent most of her development years at camp because she didn’t have anyone

B) this scene in the books is hands down one of my favorites. annabeth plays fetch with this dog and teaches him tricks and then she cries

we get a wonderful exchange of percy saying that everyone needs a little love and attention sometimes which is something annabeth never got

also she cries!! AND AND AND!!! we get more backstory, that she had a doberman before she ran away

i guarantee, and in fact we KNOW annabeth doesn’t like reminiscing on her past at home. but she did here. even for a second. we see her breaking down her walls yet again. slowly but surely.

also i want to showcase the significance of her crying, i’m gonna infer here from how i am as a person, but i hate crying in front of people to the point that i simply can’t. and i’ve only cried in front of like four people? two over a facetime call, and twice in person (my parents). and they are all people i trust with my life, i don’t cry to people often. so if i do cry in front of you it is a HUGE sign of trust for me. and i feel like from all i know about annabeth, she is the exact same way. crying in front of someone is a huge sign of trust. so there lol.

C) again, with reminiscing on her home life, we get the zoo truck

the show is WAYYY overdoing percabeth. and for someone who that’s their favorite ship of all time to say that, you know it’s an issue. i said it. there’s too much percabeth. specifically, coupley percabeth. THEY ARE STILL TWELVE.

and the zoo truck scene in the show was changed from percy and annabeth getting to know the more personal and intricate “this is what i hide from the world that whittles away my soul, but here i trust you, we’re friends. you deserve to hear this” side of each other, to “when did you two become an old married couple”

excuse me while i roll my eyes into next century.

taking away them getting to know each other pissed me off so much. because again. we don’t get to see annabeth be vulnerable and human.

percy existing and breaking down her walls is HUGE to her character development throughout the books and they are just taking it away from her

D) these last three are all gonna be shorter because it’s all more or less the same point, it all showcases how annabeth is still just a kid at heart

this is the first time we see annabeth not care about the next step or if there’s something else going on. when they’re at the garden gnome emporium and auntie em offers them food annabeth jumps at the chance to just hang out and eat food

she is still a kid. the show provides none of this. the show doesn’t make annabeth seem like a kid at all. just a very calculated human trapped in the body of a preteen.

E) annabeths whole schtick for the entire series is her loving architecture and it being that one thing (in the first book) that brings out that sense of childlike wonder and whimsy in her

in the book she gets all giddy about the arch and makes them pause the quest so she can go to the top of it. also talking about how it’s held up by math and having her sparkle and wonder and awe that comes when talking about your passion.

do we see this in the show? no. why would we!

also the architecture game is just cute. of course the one game she’d gravitate towards is about building things. LIKE CMON NOW. ugh

let my girl be a kid and have whimsy. PLEASE.

F) now i HATE luke but this is a character thing for annabeth. seeing her have a crush on luke cause ofc she would. he’s the one guy to show her any love and care and he’s handsome i suppose.

she’s still just a girl. so naturally she would have a crush on him. and it’s something that again just makes her a human.

and there isn’t enough of that.

annabeth is a really special character to me and to see her be failed by the writers is heartbreaking. especially when you have an amazing of an actress as leah playing her. you cannot sit there and write an underdeveloped version of one of the best female protagonists of modern YA literature. be serious with me for a sec

to quickly state my point. annabeth isn’t a difficult character to write, the writers just don’t seem to want to put in the time of reserching and developing already developed characters. literally ALL you have to do is go back and read and comprehend the books. THATS IT.

annabeth is a smart, independent, calculated character. but that’s not THE ONLY SIDE OF HER. as the show would have you believe. she has emotions and she is human, behind her walls she’s just a twelve year old girl figuring out life and wanting to be loved and appreciated and taken seriously like all of us do. and it’s killing me that they aren’t doing justice to her character, especially when because of the show, she gets to be a role model for black girls everywhere. they deserve better than that.

rick, i’m asking you kindly, just give me the pen and let me in that writers room so annabeth can be done right. 🩷

[rinnsverse]

First time trying out an event

Fandom: PJO/HOO

Trope: Comfort/Hurt, Angst

AU: Riordanverse

Style: One-shot

How about a Percy Jackson x mortal gn!reader who can see through the mist where Percy hears about a prophecy of how he must lose (death or just leave him) his s/o for a quest, and in trying to find ways on how to stop it, ends up not giving reader any attention or care that they break up and possibly die or just leave.

(sorry if it's too confusing, you can change parts of it to your writing style)

NO ESCAPE — percy j.

TROPES: fluff, angst, comfort/hurt

UNIVERSE: canon-ish

PAIRING(S): percy jackson x gn!reader

WARNING(S): set place after pjo and before hoo, talks of trauma and PTSD and death

A/N: it’s been a while since I’ve written for the pjo fandom so I hope I did ur idea justice

“NO,” PERCY DEADPANS, looking Rachel. “I refuse to believe that this prophecy is about me and Y/N. Absolutely not, the gods have fucked up my life enough - I am not allowing it to happen, again.”

“Percy my prophecy’s haven’t failed to be true,” Rachel replies, feeling remorse for the boy in front of her.

“No, see, remember? Remember the prophecy where you thought it was me who was the hero but it was actually,” Percy swallowed hard to mention his former friend, “Luke.

“Maybe it’ll happen but it still doesn’t mean it applies to me and Y/N.”

“Percy the fates are inescapable. You can’t cheat them, you can’t trick them, you can’t escape them,” Rachel sternly tell before speaking a tired and small, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s well- not okay, but it’s not your fault,” he sighed, burying his head in his hands. “I better find Y/N soon,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking out of the cave.

It was supposed to be just a fun, small, 3-day trip to camp due to it being spring break for him. But that turned out to be just another time where he was forced into serving the gods with zero thanks.

By the time Percy was informed of his fate, he didn’t have enough time to cope during his trip and was picked up by his mom, Paul, and you later that day.

“Percy! How was camp?” you smiled at the boy walking towards the three of you, running up to him and giving him a hug.

“It was alright,” he said blankly, continuing his walk to the car.

That made you pause - and not just because of the blank remark.

But because he didn’t hug you back.

You shot a worried look towards his parents automatically knowing something was off.

Paul was driving while Sally was sat in front so it was just you and Percy sitting in the back together. Normally, the car would be full of chatter with Percy rambling about whatever happened at camp while he was there while holding your hand.

This time though, there was no chatter, and there was no holding hands.

“So did anything exciting happen at camp?” Paul tried to break the stiffening silence, “Want to get to ice cream?”

“Nah, I’m not hungry,” Percy replied, eyes fixated out the window seemingly lost in thought.

To you it seemed that while you weren’t sharing loving touches with each other, you both still seemed to be sharing troubled thoughts and minds plagued with worry.

He wasn’t possessed - you’d know - and he was still himself; but not. What could’ve happened in the past three days that could’ve caused him to act like this?

You knew his dreams were ridden with trauma and flashbacks and sometimes a horrid future awaiting but he’d normally speak to you about such things. You could only hope if it were such a case he’d talk to you about it soon.

IT SEEMED THAT soon couldn’t come soon enough. Spring break had already passed, and it’s been a near month and Percy has barely spoken to you throughout it at all.

Percy on the other hand felt at his absolute worst.

Well, that was of course an exaggeration but knowing the fate of the relationship you have is still really terrible.

It wasn’t his intention to distance himself from you, it’s just something he did subconsciously - a desperate attempt to preserve what was already made.

“Percy?” his mother knocked on his door, “I brought you cookies.”

“Thanks, uh, can I talk to you about something?” Percy asked, taking the plate of cookies and placing them on his bedside.

“Yes of course you can,” Sally smiled, and shut the door to sit on the edge of his bed.

“When- when I was at camp I of course had the fortune of being part of a prophecy… again,” Percy inhaled a sharp breath, “And it was about me and Y/N and- Rachel said that I was gonna lose them and I just- I don’t want that.”

“Oh Percy,” she frowned pulling her son into a hug, rubbing his back softly as his tears spilled onto her shirt.

“And I don’t want them to die- they don’t deserve that, not because of me,“ he muttered.

“Percy, listen to me,” Sally gently pushed him away to look at him in his eyes, using her sleeves to wipe away his tears, “What matters isn’t in the future, but now. Regardless if you’re going to lose Y/N, make the best memories to look back on when they’re gone. That’s the meaning of life - to cherish it, and the limited time you have here with everyone you’ve ever met.”

Percy nodded at his mother words, smiling to himself at the thought of spending more time with you. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” she softly tussled his hair, “Now I’m going to set something up between the two of you to go hang out tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiles, wiping away his own tears.

“Make sure to eat those cookies,” Sally reminded before shutting his door with a soft click.

YOU TOOK IN a deep inhale before angering the small café Sally had arranged you and Percy to meet. Prepared to face him with a look of defeat on his face you open the doors, and see him sitting in the back with a cup of hot chocolate warming his hands.

But he didn’t look sad like all the other times you tried to talk to him, he didn’t look dismissive, he looked like himself. He looked like Percy.

Seeing the face you had come to love the past year return didn’t make your heart flutter as it used to however. One of the only reminders of your true intentions behind accepting the invitation.

Walking over to the table, you take the seat across him and give him a small smile that you could muster.

“You’re not gonna order anything?” Percy asked, head tilted towards the chalkboard’s beautifully written on displaying the menu.

“No, I don’t feel like it,” you shook your head, “Um, Percy I just wanted to talk to you and I’m sorry.”

Percy could feel his heart drop the moment you said those words. His head kept on making up words and phrases of what you were going to say next - anything but what he knew you were going to say.

“I just don’t think we’re going to work out,” you spoke in a soft and gentle tone, “I don’t regret the time spent with you, but it would be better if we no longer saw each other. Romantically, at least.”

It took every once ounce of Percy’s body to spill out tears from the corners of his eyes but he managed to choke out, “I understand.”

“Thank you, for everything Percy,” you hung your head low, beating yourself up for hurting the boy in front of you who had already been through so much, “I hope to see you around.”

And just like that, you exit the café as Percy’s eyes trail your figure from the window until you disappeared around the block. It doesn’t take long for the nearest fire hydrant to burst open, water spewing out when his eyes couldn’t.

A/N: did I manage to make you guys feel something? also, my 200 follower event is currently ongoing so please feel free to request!!

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

The last one I did may have been in September. 👀 Been a long time. Haven’t really been writing much fanfic. Stuck on different papers for school. I was tagged by @evolnoomym and she shared ideas so I will too! ❤️ @pr3ttynpiink also tagged me and looks to be cooking up some fun new fics. 🥰

I want to write something for Modern Din and Christmas to go in my series: This is the Neighborhood Din, but it will likely need a chapter between that to make sense. (Every so often I care about making sense). Also more Luke doing Jedi yoga on his lawn and Poe & Finn being boyfriends because I want it all!

I need to write a new chapter of Weddings 101 with Dieter. Kinda left on a cliffhanger and a lot happened in my mind that should be posted 🤣

There’s a little over a month until the DMAMC 2025 challenge is due, haven’t written anything. Actually forgot about it, but fear not! I’ll think of something. 👀 My character is Pero Tovar (I doomed myself by picking him 😭 like the level of difficulty). But maybe I’ll revisit a pairing I’ve done.

Random but working on a Baldur’s Gate 3 fic and bugging @perotovar (Erin beta read for me what I have so far), @megamindsecretlair reads the snippets I send her and @soft-persephone looks at the pics I send her and is honest 🤣🤣🤣). Everyone’s favorite moody (for many a legit reason) and murderous pale elf who’s a vampire Astarion and an OFC. Things that happened between these two: a lot of staring, mocking Gale (everyone’s favorite past time- he makes it easy but also the wizard is really nice insane like everyone else but nice), drying some hair, hugs and some tears. Lots of angst, fluff and comfort. Haven’t decided on smut yet, is likely but I’ll see how it reads.

Didn’t realize that A Safe Place for Us was up to chapter 7 on AO3 and only 5 on Tumblr 👀 My bad. I should be able to post one chapter on here before November ends. The formatting and graphics take me the longest. 🤓

I also have a secret Santa fic things I’m supposed to be working on for a discord group but I also have not started. 👀 Unsure of which direction it should go in. I’ll figure it out, eventually I think.

The first paragraph of chapter five of “A Safe Place for Us”:

Waking up to Dieter takes getting used to for Aisha. It’s not unwelcome, she’s just not used to someone clinging to her like he does. Every morning he stays at her apartment is one where he has his arm and head somewhere on her. Chest, stomach, thigh, back, ass one time because he enjoys scissoring her entrance wider and scooping his spend that drips out of her back in before pumping his fingers to stir his cum within her.

Yeah…chapter five is…a ride so to speak. 👀 Forgot we had a strong start.

I found a WIP that contains Marcus Pike angst:

His romantic relationships and come and gone just like yours but you always had each other. Though, you treated yours as ways to work off the need you felt for your friend. To distract yourself, even when you were with your other partners, you’d think of him during the throws of passion, even when having simple meals and they may chew too loudly. You loathed your behavior toward your partners and your friend, biting your lips to not utter his name while under someone else.

“Marcus…”

Is the only name you want to say but can’t.

Hmm….might be a good holiday one or something. 🤔

That’s the ideas for now. Always a lot and never finished. ✅ Would it be Nerdie if they were? 😎

Have a happy Thanksgiving, holiday, days off of work and stay safe!

NPT: @chaithetics @schnarfer @inept-the-magnificent @yopossum @djarinmuse @604to647 @secretelephanttattoo @magpiepills @maggiemayhemnj @murder-wife @sin-djarin @syd-djarin @morallyinept @westside-rot @tinytinymenace @sunshinehaze1 @soft-girl-musings @goodwithcheese @jolapeno @bluestar22x @clawdee @romanarose @beefrobeefcal @bitchesuntitled @bitchwitch1981

[opiopal]

•All I wanted was bread•

2

(This is the second part of my TSL fic, I apologize if this part seems a little rushed? I was attempting to get to the brothers as soon as possible.

The characters in this part are Mc(you), the crows, a very mean Lucifer, and mammon(who appears for a split second). Simeon, luke, are mentions but do not appear.)

(I apologize again if this sucks, I haven’t actually written in a long time)((pt 3 will be out as soon as I can write it))

•

Being alone was hard.

You were used to having someone to talk to, make jokes with, someone to teach, someone to help you cook, someone that was always waiting for you after you got off work.

But now it was just you, in the same house, with the same dirty windows, the same crummy writing desk now with no one to sit in it, the same worn down floors, and the same familiar beds but with no familiar boys sleeping in them.

But, you were yourself, you were human, you adjusted quickly.

Soon you fell into your own rhythm after about two months had gone by.

•

You wake up nearly the moment the sun shines through the window, throwing off the covers and quickly putting on your day clothes, you don’t waste a second hanging around in the bedroom, knowing that if you dwell for to long you’ll only find yourself getting sad at the lack of company. So you quickly push through the bedroom door, letting it shut behind you as you grab a small basket of seed and the pitcher of water.

The moment you step outside you are greeted by the caw of multiple crows sitting on your roof and hopping around on the ground,

“Good morning to you all,”

You quickly scatter seed across the ground, letting them flock to the area as you begin to water your garden. It had actually begun flourishing now that the crows leave it alone(for the most part), and now its something to be decently proud of.

Once you’re finished up, you head inside quickly, you need to get going soon for work so something quick will have to do for breakfast.

But, once you open the cupboard you remember you had finished off the bread yesterday. You rummage through the kitchen for a good while and find only oats are left. Taxes were due yesterday so you were low on money as well…

No matter! You tell yourself, you can always just buy some more food after work today! Since you get paid daily and not weekly.

So you ignore the growing pit in your stomach and head off for work after securing your shoes to your feet.

•

Sweeping and dusting felt like a much bigger task when hungry, but you’ve worked plenty of times while hungry before, so it’s nothing new to you. But it was still annoying to have to occasionally hear that grumble from your stomach, interrupting your thoughts. As the hours slowly ticked by you could feel yourself growing more grumpy and irritated, but you kept yourself polite when you talked with the other cleaners occasionally and quietly.

At some point during the afternoon, you were going back over the downstair floors, sweeping dirt from visitors walking in right back out the door. Then you heard the voice of your employer, for a moment you didn’t think anything of it until you processed that it sounded like she was scolding someone.

Your never ending curiosity got the better of you and you make your way over to a study, peaking inside you see her practically shouting at an elderly cleaner to clean the windows faster.

“We will be having guests in this room and they don’t need to see a hag such as yourself! It isn’t that hard to reach the top of the window- stop being lazy!”

You watch her kick the stool in which the cleaner was standing on, causing her to stumble and struggle to keep her balance. You feel anger bubbling up in your chest and you feel your face getting warm. This combined with your hunger just made you even angrier.

Before you could even process what you are doing, your feet are moving on their own and your arms swing the door open hard enough for it to bounce off the wall loudly.

“DONT KICK HER YOU WENCH!”

Silence fills the room as both women look at you baffled, just as you process what you had done, you watch as the lady of the house’s face turn a bright red as she shrieks.

“EXCUSE YOU!?”

•

•

It had hardly even been high noon and you were already heading back home. Because of course you had been fired immediately after your outburst.

But it’s not like you could help it- you were hungry and awfully close to that old woman, and seeing her get kicked around by someone young enough to be be her granddaughter was just- infuriating! And even now you could still feel your rage bubbling up inside your chest, though a lot of it was now replaced by shame and anxiety. Why did you have to open your mouth? Why couldn’t you have just walked away? Why did you have to be some sort of hero? But what would have happened if you did walk off? Would the have woman fallen and broken something? Would the lady of the house left her there on the ground?! WHAT IF-

Your thoughts are interrupted by someone stepping Infront of you and loudly clearing their throat.

“Ahem.”

You look up and are met with one of the messengers from the palace,

“Oh- I’m sorry I didn’t noti-“

“Of course you didn’t.”

They say roughly before shoving an envelope into your hands.

“I- thank yo-… ok, yeah, walking away is fine to. I guess.”

You watch them as they walk off, brushing off their hands onto their pant leg. You look down at the envelope and realize it’s from Simeon! Excitement bubbles up inside you, but only for a moment as you remember your situation once again.

•

Once you made it back home, the crows surrounding the small building caw in confusion as to why you’re home so early in the day. You plop down on the ground, resting your forehead in the palm of your free hand. You hear the little bodies of your friends land on the ground as they hop around you. One even worms his way into your lap to look up at your face.

Though you tried for a moment, you can’t help but let out a small laugh as you fix your posture, gently petting the crow in your lap as you do so.

“I got fired today. And of course I didn’t get paid for the hours I already worked.”

You sigh.

“I suppose it’s my own fault. I let my emotions get the best of me and I didn’t control myself.”

You hear a collection of loud caw’s from the small murder around you.

“What? It’s not like I didn’t know how to control myself, I was being impulsive-“

Another collective caw.

You sigh, realizing for a moment that you are indeed talking to birds and responding as if they can understand you. When in reality your brain is telling you that they’re just hungry. After a moment longer of sitting outside you turn your attention back to the unopened envelope in your hand.

You inhale slowly before ripping it open, tossing the envelope to the side as you read through the letter.

“Dear Mc,

I am writing in favor of an extremely excited Luke, who has been excelling in his lessons at an extraordinary rate, and has recently begun learning about the extended history of the kingdom. Which he says is a bit complicated, but he’s having fun anyways.”

You feel a smile creep up onto your face, it always made you feel better to know that Luke was living the best possible life the world could provide.

“Now I myself am doing well, the palace is still just as gorgeous and we are both well fed and warm every single night.”

Your stomach lets out an envious grumble.

“But what I wish to know is how you are doing. You are always on my mind and I can’t help but worry for your wellbeing. Though I trust you are managing just fine without me.”

You feel your face scrunch up slightly as you cringe.

By the time you finish reading you feel many emotions in your gut. You’re proud of Luke and very happy, though Simeon only talked of himself once you know he’s also doing just fine, which relieves you. But how are you supposed to tell him what’s happened?

You sigh as you set the letter down, rubbing your eyes and sitting motionless for what feels like ages.

Then a clink is heard.

You turn your head and notice one of the crows nudging a single coin towards you. Carefully you take it and smile.

“Ah, now what’s this? A gift? My my, how generous of you my friend.”

The crow puffs its little chest out pridefully. Though it wasn’t a lot you still appreciated the thought.

You turn your attention back to the letter for a moment before sighing, and heading back inside to try and figure out what in the world to say to Simeon.

•

•

•

Two weeks have passed at this point.

For some reason, it was suddenly impossible to find a job, no one wanted to pay you to do anything at all. So you haven’t had any form of income.

The pit in your stomach was a constant reminder of your situation, you could have a whole conversation with the growls that came from your gut daily. Sure your garden kept you alive these past weeks, but you needed something more, some actual protein, anything at all.

Occasionally you had the intrusive thought of just.. taking one of the crows inside with you.. and-

Of course you couldn’t even finish the thought without feeling overwhelming guilt. Because how in the world could you bring yourself to do that to something that trusts you so much!?

However. You didn’t ignore all of your intrusive thoughts.

One day you were walking through the market, hoping and praying that anyone at all you exchange food for the small amount of money you managed to hold onto. Then you spot a stall set up right outside the bakery.

Not only was it littered with sweets, but also different types of bread. Your eyes land specifically on an awfully large loaf of sourdough. You approach the stall, looking at the selection.

No ones paying attention, the baker isn’t even tending to the stall… it would be quite the shame if someone had taken a loaf. Especially since it was just so enticing. No. No. You couldn’t imagine anyone doing such a thing.

But no one was around, no one was even looking in your general direction, it was just one loaf, just one, there’s plenty..

just take it.

your mind screamed at you.

It’s- it’s fine, you’re hungry. Just take the bread Mc. Take it. Your window is closing. Take the opportunity. Take the bread. Take it. TAKE IT. JUST TAKE IT THE DAMN BREAD.

Before you knew it you quickly snatched the loaf and began walking away.

Your mind immediately started racing. Theres no way no one saw that, right? How was is that easy? Well, maybe you just got luck-

“HALT! THIEF!”

Well shit.

Without thinking twice you immediately break into a sprint. Shoving past bystanders and even a few shocked folks who knew you.

No no no no crap- dammit. Well you’re already running you can’t stop now!

You duck and doge past anything that had gotten in your way, barrels, carts, horses, cattle, it didn’t matter, your adrenaline was control your body as you hugged the loaf of bread to your chest as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world, because at this moment, it did.

Though you were only one person, and guards quickly blocked you off and seized you.

Now you might have been let go, maybe they would have even let you explain yourself and pitied you. But the moment you saw the smallest amount of exposed skin on one of the men grabbing ahold of you… with your adrenaline still coursing through your veins, your jaw flies open as you bite down on his arm. Causing a loud yelp to be heard from the guard.

..which also caused you to not be let go. And caused you to not have a second to explain yourself. And instead you found yourself being dragged by the arms by two guards.

Your knees scrapped against the ground below due to the fact that the guards didn’t stop for a moment to even let you stand. The cloth of your clothing thankfully acted as a sort of shield, but yet not enough of one as you could still feel the familiar sting of skin being broken and torn.

You could hardly process where in the world you were being taken, all you could focus on is the burning by in your knees and the occasional distant caw. Why were you wearing caws? You then saw a crow fly past, surely that didn’t mean anything at all. Right?

Then, you saw the palace growing closer.

No.. there’s no way they’re taking you to the LORDS because some bread?! Sure you bit a guard but there’s no way this warrants being taken to the LORDS!! OVER BREAD!

Despite your disbelief and silent reasoning, you’re dragged past the gates and into a grand court yard filled with hedges being tended to and trimmed by servants. And of course a stone pavement in which your knees could scrape further against.

You could hardly even take in the towering sight of the palace before being brought inside the magnificent piece of architecture, and into a throne room.

The throne room was massive, of course the first thing you noticed after being forcefully knelt down on the marble floor, was the seven thrones, elevated to loom over everyone and anyone placed infront of them. And unfortunately, that was you at the moment. The walls were covered with beautiful tapestries and suits of armor-which you couldn’t tell if they were occupied or not- lined the pillars in the room.

As the guard to your left begins to yammer on about how you were a “violent” and “masterful” thief, you scan the thrones. Each of the lords sat in their own respective spots. Of course the oldest being in the center throne. Though the spot to the right of the oldest was empty.. one of the lords werent present at the moment. But of course that was not your biggest concern.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts as you watch the Lord of Corruption rise out of his throne, walking forwards and down the steps to be on ground level. Your eyes quickly scan him up and down, taking in the detail of his black armored clothes with blue detailing, the shape of his jaw and nose, and his black greying hair which framed his face like some sort of painting.

His eyebrows were raised in amusement as he stared down at your knelt form. You feel the grip on your arms tighten as if to keep him safe from you, as if that would make the guards story seem more believable.

“And this… peasant.. is a dangerous and violent thief that I’ve never heard a single word about?”

He sounded entertained, as if he thought this whole ordeal was just as ridiculous as you did. He stops right in front of you. Staring down before a low chuckle leaves his throat.

“Ah yes. What a terrifying creature.”

You hear a small collection of giggles and chuckles throughout the room, laughing with him and at you.

You attempt to glance around the room again, maybe to gain a better sense of your surroundings or to even calm yourself, but then the lord slowly knelt down in front of you, grabbing your chin to force your head forwards as he stares. Entirely to close to your face.

“Hm, so you two bring me a little human thief and claim it’s dangerous. How ridiculous.-“

Without a second thought you pull your head back and spit at him.

Maybe that’s an understatement.

On him.

No no. In.

In his face.

You spit in the face of the Lord of Corruption. Causing gasps of shock to be heard throughout the throne room as he immediately stands and backs away in disgust, embarrassment, and anger. Your face turns to horrified as you realize what you have just done. A maid rushes up and quickly goes to clean his face, only for him to snatch the small rag from them and to wipe his cheek clean.

“Why you insignificant little..”

He approaches again, this time more aggressively as he tosses the rag onto the floor. His hand shoots out and roughly grabs a fist full of your hair, forcing you to stand as your own hands shoot up to grip his wrist, a whine escapes your throat as you try to gain balance to keep the sudden pain at bay.

“I’ll have your head for that you-“

His words are cut short as the sound of wings and caws fill the room. Above on the rafters sat multiple crows, cawing angrily and loudly. Their voices echo throughout the room as if in a noisy protest of the scene unfolding below them. The both of you stare upwards, his grip your hair faltering just for a moment before tightening again. He turns his head to look back at you with an accusatory expression on his face, nearly immediately piecing together that all the ruckus from the birds above just has to be your fault.

But then the caws suddenly die down as doors are swung open, ricocheting off the wall with a loud boom as an out of breath voice full of panic shouts into the room.

“WAIT.”



[whumpninja]

W.M.D., Part 2: Search and Rescue

I haven’t written a team dynamic in forever so this chapter took a bit. Finally done!

Featuring: living weapon, winged whumpee, drowning, unconscious whumpee, team dynamic

Taglist: @whumperofworlds @mysticalburntpaper @scoundrelwithboba @paperprinxe @fruitypineapple00 @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @lancedoncrimsonwings @1seaweedbrain1 @whumppsychology @ziptiesnfries @maracujatangerine @whumpsoda

“Luke. Luke. Hey, Luke.”

Luke groaned, opening his eyes. “What, Shane?”

His friend stood over his bed, grinning. And shirtless. Luke grimaced. “Dude, it is way too early for you to be in trunks.”

Shane bounced on the balls of his feet, his sandy hair fluttering up and down. “I’m going surfing. Wanna come?”

“Man, is there a day you don’t go surfing?” Luke glanced over at the alarm clock, his eyes widening. “Shane, it’s five in the morning!”

“Come on, man! Dawn patrol! It’s epic surf right now, and no one around! Please?”

Shane was unfairly difficult to resist when he wanted something. His big green eyes and even bigger smile just…couldn’t be argued with. He put Luke in mind of a puppy begging for a treat- a Labrador puppy with messy fur that loved surfing too much and never wore shoes. Too early for metaphors, Luke decided.

He threw back the blanket and sat up. “I’ll go with you to the beach, but I am not going into the water this early in the morning. I’m gonna lay on the sand and catch some more Z’s while you try to get the ocean to kill you.”

“Meet you outside in five minutes!” Shane shot out of the room with entirely too much energy for five a.m., forgetting to close the door on his way out. Luke sighed.

Still half-asleep, he fumbled for a shirt and a pair of shorts, tugging the shirt on twice because he put it on the wrong way the first time. How does Shane have so much energy in the morning? Luke found his sandals and a beach towel, throwing one more longing glance toward his bed before he headed out into the hallway.

Shane stood by the stairs, spinning the keys to his station wagon on one finger. “Do we have to take that thing?” Luke asked.

“Yep!” Shane replied cheerfully, because he was basically incapable of being anything else.

“If it falls apart on the beach, you’re pushing it back.” Luke stretched his arms up, unable to resist another yawn. “Also, dude, are we even allowed to go off to the beach without telling anyone?”

Shane shrugged. “Jones knows I surf. Recruited me at a competition. He can’t get upset with me for needing a little practice.”

Luke snorted. “If he buys that you need practice surfing-“

Shane flashed a grin at him over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

The hallways were quiet this early, and Shane stepped so softly that Luke couldn’t even hear him. He was so busy trying to hear Shane’s footsteps that he ended up tripping over a chair. “Shh!” Shane hissed.

“Sorry!” Luke whispered back. Maybe it’s that he doesn’t wear shoes? Shane’s bare feet were quiet, while his own sandals made a flup-flup-flup noise that seemed loud enough to wake up the whole base.

Luke had always thought that base was a bad term for the building. Base meant security and soldiers and barbed wire fences and all of that nonsense. Their “base” was just an old building that had gotten fancy locks put on the doors and the windows nailed shut. Sure, it was more secure than a regular apartment, but it wasn’t that state-of-the-art.

The locks were still going to be a problem, though. Jones locked the doors when he left for the night and unlocked them when he came back in the morning. “Shane,” Luke whispered.

“What?”

“Do you do this every day?”

“Pretty much.”

“How do you get out?”

Shane fumbled in his pockets and held up two little metal sticks. Luke almost fell over his own feet. “You know how to pick locks?”

“Yeah.”

“And you do it regularly?”

“Dude, I’m usually already at the beach by now. I’m back, dried off, and making myself breakfast before the rest of you even wake up.” Shane bent down to the lock on the main door, slipping his picks in and turning them carefully.

“So that’s why your hair’s always wet in the morning,” Luke said. “I thought you were just really particular about showering before everyone else.”

Shane snorted. “No, dude, it’s the ocean. The only mornings I don’t go are if it’s flat or too stormy. Also, shut up and let me break us out of here.”

Luke watched as Shane manipulated the lock picks one way and then the other, wondering when-

“Got it!” Shane swung the door open, grinning like an idiot. “After you.”

“I’m not even gonna ask how you learned that,” Luke muttered, and shuffled out of the building.

Shane’s car sat waiting by the street, two surfboards lashed to the roof. Luke didn’t even really feel like car was the right word for the ancient, rickety, wood-sided station wagon Shane had allegedly bought off the side of the road and fixed up himself. It definitely drove like he’d fixed it up himself- the thing was prone to jostling around and bumping anyone who dared ride in it until they wished they had walked. Shane loved the car. Luke hated it. Shane called it Leroy. Luke called it a death trap.

“I’m still not going surfing,” he said, sliding reluctantly into the passenger seat.

“Aww, really? It’s gonna be epic waves!” Shane started the car, which meant putting the keys in the ignition and whacking the dashboard until the engine turned over.

“It’s gonna be cold, is what it is,” Luke grumbled. “I’ll watch you get eaten by a shark instead of risking it myself.”

Shane laughed, pulling the car out onto the main roads. “Wouldn’t mind that.”

“Huh?”

“What? It’s a cool way to go. Besides, it’s their ocean, I’m just playing in their front yard. There’s a reason we call ‘em the landlords.”

“You’re worried about whether or not your death will be cool enough?”

Shane flashed him the Shaka sign along with his signature grin. “Sure. What sounds better- ‘Here lies Shane Carter, who died at eighty-five from slipping in the bathtub and breaking his hip’ or ‘Here lies Shane Carter, who surfed an epic wave straight into a shark’s jaws and it was crazy sick’?”

“You’re crazy, man.”

Despite Shane’s terrible car, the drive to the beach wasn’t so bad. Shane hummed something that sounded jazzy and was only a little off-key. Luke watched the sun come up and thought about sharks. “Where are we going?” he asked when Shane drove right past the public beach.

“Secret surf spot,” Shane replied. “Gets the best waves.”

They went about a mile or so down the coast, out into the sand dunes. Shane’s car actually drove smoother once it was off the paved roads, and Luke wondered if he’d somehow rigged it to do that.

Finally, Shane pulled over, and Luke had to admit it was a good spot. Shane had found a little stretch of beach, shielded from passersby with a tall dune and a rock outcropping. Waves crashed on the shore, which made Shane’s grin get even bigger.

While Shane hopped out to get his surfboard down from the roof of the car, Luke climbed out at a more reasonable speed and watched the ocean. Maybe this was worth waking up early for. The last of the sunrise had turned the ocean golden, and the roar of the waves was actually a peaceful sound once you got used to it. The smell of salt hung in the air, and Luke was almost tempted to go in the water.

Almost.

He shaded his eyes and looked out to sea, wondering if there might be a pod of dolphins or a whale enjoying the morning the same as him. And to his surprise, he did see something. “Hey, Shane!” Luke called. “There’s a seal out there!”

“Really?” Shane had his surfboard tucked under his arm, locking the car and coming to Luke’s side. “Where?”

Luke pointed towards the dark spot in the water. “Right there!”

Shane looked where he was pointing. His grin faded. “That’s not a seal.”

“How can you tell? And what is it?”

Shane gripped his surfboard tighter. “That’s someone in the water, man.”

“What?”

Shane took off running for the edge of the water. “Come on!”

“Shane!” Luke raced after his friend. Shane was unfairly fast, even running barefoot on sand. Luke just barely managed to catch him before he plunged into the water. “Shane, what are you doing? We should find some way to call the Coast Guard or something.”

“Whoever that is out there, they need help a lot faster than that. Are you coming with me?” Shane’s usually cheerful face had turned to something determined and serious. It didn’t look right on him.

“But- what are we going to do?”

“I can get out to them with the board and hold it steady. If you can help them onto it, I think we can get them back to shore.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Luke stripped off his shirt. “This is crazy, Shane.”

Shane handed him the surfboard. “Here.”

“What’s this for?”

“Paddle out on it. I can get to them faster if I swim.” Shane took a few deep breaths and ran into the ocean without hesitating. Luke gripped the surfboard and followed. Man, how do I get myself into these predicaments?

Shane was already swimming by the time Luke got the surfboard floating with him on top. The ocean didn’t seem to like him the way it liked Shane- a wave smacked him right in the face. Cold, salty water filled his mouth. Luke spat it out, shaking out his hair. How does Shane do this every morning? His friend was swimming like he had been made for it, already halfway to the motionless dark spot bobbing in the waves. Luke kicked as hard as he could, trailing far behind.

Shane reached the person first, treading water around the still form. Luke saw him go under once, resurfacing on the other side. "Are they alive?" he yelled.

"Don't know!" Shane called back. "Get the board over here!"

Luke slid off the board and into the cold sea. Man, I hope sharks aren't awake this early. He positioned himself next to the body and pushed the board over to Shane. The person was at least floating face-up- Luke saw pale skin and dark hair. He couldn't see the face very well beneath the strings of hair covering it, but it looked like it might belong to a guy about his own age.

"I'll hold the board still, you get him on top," Shane directed.

Luke slipped his hands under the person's body. Something limp and wet and oddly soft met his fingers. Grimacing, he lifted it out of the water. "What the-"

Shane's mouth dropped open. "Is that a wing?"

It was. Huge, black, and feathered like a bird's, soaked with the sea. "Gotta be some kind of flight suit, right?" Luke asked. But the guy was shirtless, and the wing felt...attached.

"Don't think so," Shane replied. "Can't worry about it right now. Gotta get him out of the water. Come on, help me."

——————————————————————————

Paul stared in dismay at the picked lock on the main exit door. "Shane, you idiot," he fumed under his breath. "And you had to take Luke with you. If Jones doesn't kill me, I'm going to kill you."

"Who are you killing?" asked Ana behind him.

Paul jumped, putting a hand to his chest. "Don't do that! Shane, if he comes back. He's run off with Luke. Jones'll be here in about ten minutes, and if they're not back here-"

Ana raised her eyebrows. Her hair was damp, and she ran her fingers through it. "There'll be trouble."

"Tons. Especially for me."

"Well, at least it's only those two," Ana said. "Viv's in the lab, Diego's in the kitchen."

Paul ran his hands through his hair, slumping down against the wall with a sigh. "I just- I'm the leader. Whatever you all do reflects back on me. So Shane running off to go swimming or whatever it is he does- I'm the one responsible for that. And Jones knows it. Ugh, I just wish he'd think for once!"

"Jones? Or Shane?" Ana stuck out her hand.

"Shane." Paul accepted Ana's hand, standing up from the floor. "Let's go. I'm going to eat Shane's share of whatever Diego's cooking."

Just as Ana had said, Diego was in the kitchen. The radio had been tuned to a Spanish-language station, and Diego used a spatula as a microphone as he sang loudly along. He spun around, spotted Ana and Paul in the doorway, and grinned. Ana snorted as her twin brother wiggled his eyebrows and jiggled his hips, grinning all the while. "You're loco," she told him.

"Completely," Diego replied, still smiling. "Hey, where's Shane and Luke? Their eggs are going to get cold."

Paul sighed. "They're gone. Shane dragged Luke off to the beach, probably."

Diego sucked in his breath. "Ooh, el jefe isn't gonna like that."

"Since when is Jones the boss? I thought I was the boss." Paul stole Diego's spatula to get himself a serving of eggs.

"You're boss-y," Ana teased.

The joking of his teammates made Paul feel better. They sat around the kitchen eating breakfast and talking animatedly among themselves. The absence of Shane and Luke still tugged insistently at the back of Paul's mind. He was the leader. He knew that the responsibility would fall on him the moment Jones arrived.

Jones, naturally, took that exact moment to do so, flinging the kitchen door open with a bang. As always, he was in uniform and already scowling at them. His sharp dark eyes did not miss the absentees. "Where's Carter, Evans, and Tai?" he said gruffly.

The question wasn't directed to anyone in particular, but Paul answered it anyway. "Viv's in her lab. The other two snuck out. Shane probably dragged Luke off to the beach."

Jones raised an eyebrow slowly, his jawline tight and a nerve standing out in his forehead. But all he said was "I see."

Paul grimaced inwardly. Oh, we're in for it.

As if he could read Paul's mind, Jones snapped out orders. "Ten minutes to get downstairs. Alvarez- both of you- clean this up. Price, if Carter and Evans come back, I want to know before they get in the door. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" Paul answered. Ana echoed him half-heartedly. Diego didn't bother.

Jones left with just as loud a slam as before.

Paul slumped into his chair, sighing. "He's furious."

"Duh," Ana replied, dumping her plate into the sink. "We're gonna be sore tomorrow."

Paul brushed brown hair out of his eyes. "I don't care how long he makes us train. I care about him thinking I'm a bad leader because I can't control my team. Can't stop them from running off whenever they feel like it. Maybe he shouldn't have picked me."

"Hey." Ana dropped down into the chair next to him, wrapping her hand in his. "You're a good leader, Paul. It's not your fault Shane hasn't gotten with the program yet. Jones will blame you anyway, of course, but it's not your fault. You're doing a good job. And he might yell and bluster and make us all run laps until we drop, but I know Jones knows that too."

Paul offered her a smile. "Thanks, Ana."

"Por supuesto." She tapped his hand and got up to help Diego with the dishes.

The main door banged open. Paul shot to the hallway, almost skidding into Jones, who had come up from the basement. Their commander's face was grim. "Is that them?"

"Hey! Guys!" Luke's voice rang out loudly.

Paul moved to stand beside Jones, folding his arms and making as stern a face as he could.

Shane barreled around the corner and nearly into them, Luke hot on his heels. Both of them were soaked to the skin. "Jones!" Shane gasped, his hands on his knees. "We-"

Jones cut him off. "Where were you?" His voice was flat and cold.

"The beach. But we-"

"Your idea, I assume."

Shane seemed to realize that neither Jones nor Paul looked happy. He straightened up, shoving a string of wet blond hair out of his eyes, and faced Jones directly. "Yes. It was."

Jones nodded tersely. "Evans, clear off," he said to Luke.

Luke gulped. "Um, sir-"

Jones had already moved on. "Why?"

Shane shrugged. "I needed some practice."

"Don't even try that," Jones snarled, flipping from cold disdain to hot anger in the space of a second. "You know what, Carter, I am sick and tired of your disrespect. You're the only one here who-"

"Jones," Shane tried to cut in.

Jones bulldozed him and kept going. "-hasn't gotten their head on straight. You'd rather run solo than be part of a team, is that it? You've got nowhere to go if I throw you out, remember. I saw potential in you, but if you want to waste that-"

"Jones, I-"

"And if I don't expel you from the program, you can be sure that you are in a whole mess of trouble, Shane Carter. You are going to wish that you had never met me, starting-"

"Jones!" Shane shouted.

Paul's eyes went wide. He'd never heard Shane raise his voice- and certainly never at Jones.

Jones' eyebrow arched. His voice dropped to an almost soft, dangerous tone. "Did you have something to say, Shane?"

Shane's eyes were blazing, and Paul saw his fist clench. "Yeah," Shane said, his own voice trembling with effort as he fought to keep it steady. "Yell at me later, because I've got an unconscious guy in the back of my car!"

"What?" Paul blurted. Even Jones looked startled.

"We pulled him out of the ocean!" Luke added from over Shane's shoulder. "He's alive. But he's in real bad shape."

"Paul, can you get Viv?" Shane asked. "This guy needs serious help."

"Just a minute." Jones crossed his arms. "Why did you bring him back here? Why not the hospital?"

Shane glanced to Luke. "That's the other thing. Whoever he is...he's got wings."

[the5thcellar]

Hi, I recently stumbled upon your blog and I am so glad I did! While I’m very sorry for all the troll hate you’ve received, I like the sassy way you’re handling them. I’m trying to find the humor in why so many people are pressed and feel like they need to defend something that you haven’t even denied is real. And just because you have a different opinion, they cannot handle it. Reading your responses, and reading the responses of other people with whom I share similar sentiments, has made me laugh and feel better over the last week. I’ve been desperately trying to find other posts/people that have similar vibes because this whole… situation-ship has been a bit much. I also appreciate your reminder that “no matter how good a man seems, trying to justify anything they do is still a sure path to disappointment!” 

I was wondering if you had any thoughts about Luke’s social media lately? I’ve read some points about how messy his social media presence has been handled (or mishandled) over the past year+ and how it did not help with the way everything played out. Also, I feel like he’s either turned on notifs for Nic because he’s been very diligent about liking all her posts, or maybe, he’s finally gotten a team to handle it. I just feel like everyone is in crisis comms mode, trying to wrangle back control. Just genuinely curious because it’s what I’ve been pondering over for the last day or two. Thank you in advance for your time if you answer my ask!

I'm so sorry this took me awhile - I started replying it in the morning on the way to work but decided I needed to gather my thoughts more.

To the first part: I completely empathise with how the entire situation has just been so "much" - it really has. It seems so silly, but somehow, whether or not two people I DON'T KNOW are in love or not in love, are best friends or are not best friends - can affect so much of my mental and emotional wellbeing.

I know I'm being parasocial (it seems to be the internet buzzword of the moment). But let's be clear: almost EVERYONE online - everyone who has written in to my ask box, who has commented, who has liked - everyone on twitter and tiktok who has talked about this - they're all just as parasocial. Because we're all assuming and casting aspersions on people we do not personally know. No one online who engages in discourse has the moral or ethical high ground. We are ALL in the gutter together (that said - I believe the gutter has many levels 😂).

IN ANY CASE - I just want to assure you that what you're feeling is not some atypical affliction. It is normal to feel awful that something you believed in and something you felt happy about is untrue. It is normal to look for other people who feel the same because misery is always better with company. It is normal to feel disappointed even as you remind yourself that men have been useless since the dawn of time.

The best counter to all these sad, awful feelings is to remember that life is a cycle. That life is complex. And although I'm saying this for the millionth time - that life has many, many grey areas.

As a kid I thought Zanessa was everything. Then they broke up, and she got together with Austin whom I hated. For years I seethed at the very mention of them. And after almost a decade... they also broke up. And not even 2 years after that, she's married and with child.

For a long time I also thought Brangelina was everything - you can't imagine my devastation when they divorced and I found out Brad is a complete dirtbag. But at the same time that I felt this horrible upset - I'm sure TONS of other people were feeling vindicated because they were fans of Jen A.

There are just SO MANY other stories like that. I mean come on - JLo and Ben Affleck. On again, off again, finally made it to the altar ... and now they're headed for divorce.

Chris and Mariska - both married to other people for 27 bloody years (or maybe longer) - and still making it very clear they are each others soulmates - and NOT platonic ones btw.

Tony and Kerry - WHAT EVEN ARE THEY? Perhaps the only pair on the internet that has people rooting for cheating and affairs 😂

Lessons: don't let a long term boyfriend stop you from finding a husband. Don't let a husband stop you from finding your soulmate. Don't let your soulmate stop you from engaging in a late, great love affair.

All crazy, contradicting statements distilled from all the above real life stories.

It makes one thing very clear to me: I can believe what I want to believe about Luke and Nicola. Because no one fucking knows what is in the future. They could get together next month. Next year. When they're in their 70s. No one can tell me SHIT about what I believe - not when life is clearly full of incredible twists and turns.

So fuck it. Fuck the haters and the antis and the naysayers. I can ship them till the day I die and no one can tell me any different. Because how could they? They literally canNOT !

To the second part: this is an easy answer and there's no need to think too much into it. Luke's social media has simply undergone an extensive renovation by his agents and team in anticipation of him becoming a big star (whether or not that will actually happen remains to be seen). All highly personal, "non-aesthetic" posts of his have been archived - his posts are all related to work and his coworkers. He has many posts with Nicola because he / his team knows those get the most engagement - and the more engagement he gets, the better the IG algorithm works in his favour to push his OTHER, non-Nicola or Bridgerton related posts to people's feeds. I don't think anyone is in crisis comms mode tbh. Maybe Nicola panicked a bit after she posted that tiktok that everyone took wildly out of context. But beyond that I don't think the wider audience gives af who he's dating - it seems like his personal life is very big news only because we keep searching about it and talking about it and so it feels like EVERYONE is. But if you step outside the online bridgerton fandom bubble ..... no one cares. There is a HEFTY portion of netflix viewers who watch bridgerton without EVER going online to read about the actors.

Long story short I think Nicola and Luke will become even MORE conscious about what they post - but I don't believe there was a crisis in the true sense of the word. And although Luke's team clearly handles his socials he obviously has access to it as well. Btw - all celebs have someone who handles their socials I'm sure Nic does too, just that she's also on her own account a lot. I don't know if Luke has his notifs on for Nicola's posts but even if he does I don't believe his consistent likes mean anything much. I mean...he also diligently likes all of Antonia's posts 😂

Social media isn't much of an indicator of honesty to me ... as someone whose work heavily involves it, everything is curated to a disgusting degree.

What I put more stock in is what we can see - and what we can see of them when they DON'T think about being seen - which is to say, all the unconscious, natural moments between Nicola and Luke - the vibe around them both, and the easy way they breathe and exist together.

That's what makes me such a big believer in their bond.