#god knows how i’ll survive when the movie comes out

[satoruxx]

nothing will beat the pain of watching a character/team you care about lose in haikyuu…

[elysianightsss]

He laughed so bostrously, lips closing around his cigar while he did so, blue eyes not leaving yours as you got out your keys ready to enter your house, white picket fencing the only thing separating the two of you.

“Thank you.” You smiled his way, ecstatic with the compliment. You’d only been driving a little while so to hear how good he thought you were at parking made your chest swell with pride.

“John Price.” He spoke again coming closer this time, blowing the smoke from his mouth, head turned so as not to blow it in your direction. You gulped watched a single bead of sweat roll down the skin of his thick neck.

You have to blink yourself back to the present as he’s extending his hand to you over your side of the fence, only coming up to your waist.

You grabbed his hand, a little suprised with how hot it was, slightly sweaty too. You told him your name in return, cheeks flushing slightly, more than they already were from the heat of the day when he hummed approvingly repeating it like he’s testing it out so he can use it more often.

“God it’s hot today ain’t it.” The question was obviously rhetorical as the sun was beating down on the both of you as you spoke. It was so far what they called ‘the hottest day of the year’ and this time the weather girl wasn’t lying. You’d had to put sun cream on before you left the office because of how hot it was.

Thank goodness your office building had air conditioning because you don’t know how you would have survived otherwise. As soon as you walked out the hot air was choking and the sun’s heat was awful after being in the nice cold all day.

“It’s better than it raining though.” John spoke again almost trying to fill the gap where he thought you may have commented.

“I don’t know, I kinda like the rain and the cold. It’s nice when you get to have the fire going and cuddling up on the sofa with an old movie or book, maybe some hot cocoa-“ you began to ramble on all the things you like about autumn and winter. All the while John is watching with a smile on his face, picturing doing all those things with you.

He’s more distracted than you are that there’s an awkward pause when you stop rambling, he’s still in a trance while you stand there biting your lip nervously as he simply stares at you.

“Doing some gardening?” You try to break the silence to which he slightly jumps, eyes regaining their focus on you.

“Yeah, thought I’d do the front of the house up a bit, make it look somewhat presentable.” He chuckled looking back at his handy work, it didn’t look half bad. The lawn was mowed and he had started to plant some seeds by the looks of it.

“Looks a lot better than my dump, I never have time for it.” You say with a laugh, glancing over your shoulder at the overgrown grass and dying flowers you’d planted last spring to try and making the place look better. Fail.

“You work a lot huh? I see you coming and going most days. Barely ever home.” He tilts his head, arms folded over his chest bringing his cigar up to his mouth once more.

“I only get weekends off, and they’re really the only time I spend at home if you don’t count coming home to sleep at night.” You sigh thinking about how hard you had worked today, always taking on problems that maybe you should let others handle but then you wouldn’t be paid as much as you get.

“I’m glad I’m retired, but I must admit it’s rather boring.” He inhaled the smoke, a thinking look clear on his rugged face.

“You don’t look old enough to be retired.” You comment, not meaning to say it out loud. Your eyes widening once you realise you have.

“I’ll take that as a compliment love.” He laughs, the corners of his eyes creasing when he does. His thick beard surrounding the way his lips curve up in smile. Your face burns and you definitely look like a tomato right now.

“I best go inside and shower off today.” You smile at him with a small wave before turning on your heal and heading inside. You slump against the front door cursing yourself. “Stupid stupid stupid.” Heading upstairs you do exactly what you said you would, shower.

That’s why you don’t hear the lawnmower turn on again, that’s why you don’t notice it’s right outside your house, that’s why you don’t notice that John Price is mowing your lawn as you scrub your white loofa over your legs. But when you’re done and you look out your bedroom window, your heart stops.

Your handsome neighbour, is cutting your grass in the hot sun, without a shirt on. He spots you staring a sends a wink your way…..that man will be the death of you.

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Trigger warning. Joel triggers your PTSD when you see him drunk for the first time causing you to have flashbacks of your abusive ex.]

Mentions of DV

“You weren’t suppose to see this, baby” he stumbled in your direction.

Joel knew how you felt about alcohol, he knew the hell you had gone through with your ex boyfriend because of it. Having known him for a year, you and him both traveled alone surviving together. Never had you seen Joel intoxicated, neither of you had come across liquor during your journey and when you did Joel ignored it out of respect for you. Of course, Joel missed the alcohol helping him somewhat sleep at night yet he never mentioned it.

Tonight the two of you had gotten lucky, after being on your feet for nine hours walking through the woods you both came across a cabin that looked as if it had been abandoned for a while now. After making sure it was empty you both claimed it as your own, at least until you had to keep moving again.

“Oh it’s nice to finally have a bed tonight” you looking at the bed at the other end of the room. Joel smirked as he looked around, peaking through the cabinets where he found two full bottles of whiskey. God it had been so long since Joel had a taste, the only thing that numbed him entirely, he craved just a glass.

“What cha find?” You asked as you began to unpack your bag. Joel quickly closing the door and clearing his throat as he moved along.

“Nothin’ uh, a few cans of food and towels” Joel knowing damn well it was nothing to mention.

“Good, I’m hungry” you spoke excitedly as Joel grabbed the cans to sit at the table.

Joel and you lay on the couch, your body slouched against his for a moment as his hand brushed through your hair.

“Oh I’d love to be able to just watch a movie now, have some popcorn” you sighed, the thought making Joel slightly smile.

“What movie would we watch?” He asked curiously.

“Hmmm…I don’t know, how about a romantic comedy?” You winked at him as he playfully shook his head rubbing his eyes.

“Oh baby, I’d watch anything with you” he whispered looking down at you before kissing you softly.

“Who knows, we probably wouldn’t even watch anything” he chuckled as you playfully shoved him.

“We should get sleep” your lips brushing against his as you spoke. He nodded before you pushed yourself up and walked to the bed.

“Are you coming?” You yawned as you dusted the bed off a bit and pulled back the covers.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a few” he called out to you before looking back at the cabinet that held the two bottles of whiskey. Too exhausted to wait, your eyes closed and you fell right to sleep.

Once Joel was sure that you were asleep, quietly he got up and stopped right at the cabinet. Looking back at you he reached for the first bottle, slowly opening it up. Without thought Joel began to drink savoring the taste he hadn’t had in so long, wiping his lips feeling the burn in his chest.

“Fuck” It’s just what he needed after not being able to sleep properly in weeks.

Closing his eyes in relief he took another chug before taking the bottle back with him to the couch. Within fourty minutes he was half way through, slowly getting to the bottom. The buzz creeping up on him as he leaned his head back and took a deep breath.

Joel began slowly walking around the cabin, reading some of the frames on the wall when he began to stumble. Reaching for a frame Joel accidentally knocked it to the ground causing you to wake up.

“Joel?”

“Shit” he whispered.

Rubbing your eyes you go out of bed to see Joel across the room.

“You ok?” He turned to you revealing the half empty open bottle in his hand, that’s when you looked at his face and realized he didn’t look like the Joel you knew.

“Didn’t mean to…wake ya..” he whispered as he noticed the way you stared at the bottle in his hand.

“Where’d you get that?” You asked softly as Joel took a deep breath with regret.

“You…-“ he began to walk towards you.

“You weren’t suppose to see this, baby” he stumbled in your direction.

“Maybe you should….lay down” you spoke nervously as he stopped right before you.

“Shit baby, I fucked up..” he whispered. The smell of alcohol making your stomach turn, the memories of the nightmare you lived with your ex boyfriend now coming back to you. Your heart racing as you felt a panic you never thought you would feel again.

“You’re mad at me, ain’t cha?” He couldn’t hold himself still as he stood before you, you took a step back feeling the wall behind you as you slowly shook your head. Mad wasn’t the word as your nerves took over. You trusted Joel yet seeing him in a way you never had…seeing him in a way your ex had his violent outbursts, you were terrified.

“Don’t be…mad at…..me, baby. Ima make this..right” he slurred.

You watched as he dangled the half empty bottle around before closing the top in a clumsy manner and placing the bottle on the table beside him.

“There” he placed his hands up showing you he was done. As drunk as he was he could see the fear in your eyes.

“Please don’t be mad at me-“ he unexpectedly reached for you causing you to step back against the wall harder than you meant to.

“I ain’t gonna hurt cha” his eyes desperate for you to trust him. Yet, his words only seemed to make it worse. It was something your ex would love to say just before he actually would hurt you.

“Fuck” Joel shoved the chair beside him causing you to jump.

“Stop it! Just stop!” You felt yourself begin to lose any control you thought you had.

“Baby-“

“Just go lay down! Go to sleep!” You couldn’t even look him in the eye. All you wanted desperately was for him to get away from you. Joel stood silent as he took a step back and did as you asked. Quietly going to the bed he lay down and let you be.

As soon as he walked away you began to silently hyperventilate. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to fight off the memories, the trauma…you tried to fight the fear.

You knew you would no longer be able to properly sleep that night. Joel was out in a matter of minutes while you sat up on the couch watching him. Your eyes feeling heavy, it was getting harder to stay awake until eventually you fell asleep.

After a few hours Joel began to wake up. With a slight headache he slowly pushed himself up with a groan before looking up and noticing the bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter. Quickly he looked around the room to find you sitting on the couch asleep facing him.

“Shit” he whispered to himself brushing his hand through his hair. Bits and pieces of the night before flashed in his mind, one thing he couldn’t stop picturing was how afraid you seemed of him.

Joel stood up walking towards you, he could tell you didn’t mean to fall asleep. You seemed cold and so he grabbed a blanket from the bed and slowly placed it on you. The feel of the blanket covering you causing you to slowly open your eyes and when you did, you jumped not expecting to see Joel standing over you.

“It’s me-“ he tried to assure you.

“It’s me, baby I’m sober, I ain’t drinkin’ I promise” it took a moment for you to realize he actually was sober. There was the Joel you knew staring down at you with concern. Staying silent for a moment you looked around a bit confused, you hadn’t even realized you fell asleep, let alone for how long. You looked at him quietly as you slowly sat up and took a deep breath.

“You-“

“I know” he quickly spoke as he stood up straight.

“I’ve never seen you like that before” you whispered.

“and I….I thought about Cameron and-“ he noticed you begin to slightly tremble.

“I just didn’t know what you were capable of” you blurt out as you held back your tears.

“Scared the hell out of me” Joel brushed his hand over his lips before quickly getting down on one knee.

“Look at me” he spoke low looking directly into your eyes.

“I would never do anything to hurt you. Ever. You understand that?” He was serious. He meant every word he said.

“I wish I could find the prick that did this to you, I guarantee you he’d never have a drink again” you quietly nodded yet he could still see you trembling. It was getting harder for you to control.

“Hey” he placed his index finger beneath your chin and tilted your head up.

“I ain’t gonna drink again alright? I should’ve never done that” he whispered. You let out a breath of relief and threw your arms around him pulling him in. Joel held you hold close and kissed your forehead.

“Come on, get into bed with me, baby” he slowly lifted you up and carried you to the bed. You watched as he walked to the counter and poured the left over liquor down the drain. As much as Joel loved a drink, your peace of mind was more important to him. Throwing the bottle out the window he walked back to you and lay beside you pulling you close as you fell asleep..

[fairylights-throughthemist]

So High School

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: first time writing, fluff, making out, reader sits on Eddie’s lap.

A/N: Eeek!!! My first time writing! I know it’s nowhere near perfect and I wanted it to be longer but this will have to do for now.

Inspired by “So High School” by Taylor Swift.

You and Eddie had been friends since your freshman year. Since then it has become a tradition to have a movie night on friday after school and today was no exception. Sprinting out of school when the final bell rings, jumping into Eddie’s van and blasting his newest favorite song.

Despite being best friends with the school drug dealer you’d never tried drugs of any kind. Eddie wanted to keep it that way but he also really wanted to get high together with you.

Now here you are, laying with your head in Eddie’s lap, watching him smoke. Seeing the way his soft, plump lips wrap around the blunt makes your question slip out easily.

“Can I try?”

He looks down at you with a questioning look.

“Really?”

Eagerly nodding your head he passes you the blunt and you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“You’ve watched me smoke for years and you still don’t know what to do huh?”

“Just tell me what to do Eddie!”

About half an hour later and switching positions every few minutes you finally found a comfortable one. You’ve got your feet in Eddie’s lap while he stares at you.

“Eddie.”

No response.

“Eddieeeeee.”

Still no response.

“Edssssssss” you whined while kicking your feet in his lap.

“Whaaaattttt?”

“Do you wanna play kiss, marry, kill?”

“I don’t think I have a choice, princess.”

“You go first!”

“Hmmm… Steve, Jason aaaannddd… Billy”

“Kill Jason, obviously. Kiss Billy and I guess I’ll marry Steve!”

“Interesting… Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Chrissy, Tammy anddd Mrs. Wheeler!”

“Jesus Christ how much weed did I give you.” He said under his breath, which you giggled at.

“Answer the question, Munson.”

“Fuck uhm, I guess I’ll kill Tammy, I would not survive hearing her sing for more than I’m forced to. Chrissy… Hmm marry Chrissy and kiss Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Marry Chrissy?”

“You jealous, sweetheart?” He said with his signature Munson smirk.

“What! No! What do you mean?”

A few rounds later you really felt the weed affect your thoughts. You couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie. I mean how could you when he’s just sitting there looking perfect. His soft lips, his unruly hair, his pretty brown eyes and the way he smells. My God the way he smells. Like cigarettes, his old spice deodorant and some of Wayne’s cologne. Most of all he smells like Eddie, no other way of describing it.

The weed makes your thoughts swirl together, making the following easier to say.

“Tina, Sarah and… me.”

“You?”

You look at him with pleading eyes. He glances at your lips and asks “Are you serious?” instead of answering his question you press your lips against his.

His lips feel even softer than they look. When you finally broke the kiss you felt too shy to even look at him. You didn’t have time to let your thoughts flow freely as you felt him grab your chin and ask “Is this okay?”. The second you nodded his lips were on yours again. This time you felt him gently asking for permission to let his tongue into your mouth. His action made you gasp and the two of you naturally started making out. At some point Eddie helped you switch positions so you were straddling his lap.

Even while making out with your crush and grinding on him you couldn’t stop your bad thoughts from taking over. “What if i’m a bad kisser?”, “Does he even like me like that?”, “When did he learn how to kiss like this?”, “Oh God, was his first kiss with Chrissy?”.

Your thought process was quickly interrupted by a groan coming from the man whose lap you were on. You thought that might’ve been the hottest sound ever.

He grabbed your hips and pushed you down on his now very noticeable, boner. His action made you whimper.

“Fuuucckkk.”

Later

Laying on the couch, on top of Eddie, you think back on the events of today and remember something to tease him about.

“You never answered my question.”

“What?”

“Are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me?”

He answers by kissing your lips once again, when you separate he chuckles and says “Mrs. Munson”, which you blush at and hide your face in his neck.

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading 🥹

[dadvans]

chick flick moments (bucktommy)

[i can’t stop thinking about tommy’s favorite movie being Love, Actually.]

Tommy hasn’t really talked or seen his family in roughly twenty years. His firefighting career has never been enough, if they were ever keeping tabs, to make up for his dishonorable discharge. And honestly, it’s been fine with him. His family has always been the suffocating kind of conservative and earning their love stopped being a hill he would choose to die on for longer than they’ve been radio silent.

Someone is keeping tabs though, or maybe the news of his recent heroics have a broader reach than he thought, because a few months after getting a medal for the cruise liner disaster response, someone reaches out. Tommy is hesitant to engage because he’s pretty happy without them in his life, but maybe at first it was a cousin or uncle, but that’s followed by one of his sisters trying to get into contact, followed by his mom, followed by his dad. And they’re persistent. Maybe they do want to make amends. And maybe he doesn’t need his blood family but there’s that tiniest part of him left that still wants that connection.

This is how he gets suckered into the most miserable Christmas dinner of his life. It’s not actually Christmas, it’s a few days before when the whole clan can get together, and it’s just as claustrophobic and awful as ever, every word spoken saturated in judgment and triple meanings that Tommy long since has lost the muscle to withstand.

Evan had wanted to come with him, said a whole bunch of shit about how they were PARTNERS, and how it could not be nearly as bad as his own parents were, but Tommy’s extended family holiday dinners are like a Los Angeles Miserable People convention crowded between the dining room and kitchen tables, and Evan’s still licking some wounds after surviving Gerrard’s brief yet nightmarish tenure back at the 118, maybe next time. This first round Tommy needs to do solo. So, Evan drops him off around the corner in the afternoon with a promise to come pick him up later that night.

Evan checks in with him pretty frequently, sending him stupid videos and things he finds on the internet, but Tommy gets hit immediately by some pretty barbed comments about being a grown man on his phone who doesn’t give a shit about the olive branch he’s being offered, so he stops checking so much.

Finally, halfway through too many glasses of wine and an early evening roast that make his memories of MREs seem like a pleasant dream, his phone starts going off pretty insistently. It’s Evan.

The doorbell is about to ring and i need you to be the one to answer it.

Well, that’s worrisome. He’s pretty close to the hallway though, so he types back: ok.

The doorbell rings. He shoves away from the table, waving everyone else back down. “I’ll get it.”

Evan is at the door. He has his phone out with a little plug-in speaker, and oh God, a stack of cue cards—

Unbelievable. “What are you doing.”

Evan enthusiastically hits play on his phone and as tinny Christmas music starts to play, holds up the first card: TELL THEM IT’S CAROLERS

He shakes his head. “Evan, even if they believed me, they would probably love that and would come check it out.”

“Tommy, who’s at the door?” His uncle calls from the dining room.

Tommy rolls his eyes and shouts back, “Planned Parenthood asking for donations!”

“Tell ‘em were eating dinner and to get the fuck out of here!”

Tommy looks at Evan pointedly, eyebrows raised, hands in pockets as if to say: well?

Evan flips to the next few cue cards:

I NEVER SAW THIS MOVIE BEFORE YOU MADE ME WATCH IT flip AND HONESTLY IT WASNT THAT GOOD flip BUT TO ME YOU ARE WORTH IT

“Evan,” Tommy says, softening.

AND I KNOW YOU THINK YOU ARE PROTECTING ME BY TELLING ME TO STAY HOME flip AND THOUGH WHATEVER IS GOING ON CAN’T BE AS BAD AS WATCHING LOVE, ACTUALLY flip OR HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS flip OR THE WEDDING PLANNER flip OR 50 FIRST DATES flip (I ACTUALLY LIKED FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL) flip I WANTED TO CHECK IN

Evan fumbles the cards to the hand holding his phone to pull something out of his back pocket, a piece of paper he gives Tommy, before flipping to the next card: I MADE THIS RANSOM NOTE IF YOU NEED TO BE KIDNAPPED flip AND WE CAN GET OUT OF HERE

It’s easily the stupidest grand gesture anyone’s ever directed at Tommy. He looks over the piece of paper, words threateningly put together cut out from Evan’s copies of Food & Wine and Men’s Health. He nods to himself, smiling, then looks up at Evan who is cheesing back.

“Yeah,” he says, feels for his phone and wallet in his pocket, before dropping the paper to the welcome mat and stepping outside, ready to escape back home to the only family he needs.

[waynes-multiverse]

Plastic Hearts – Part 23

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂

<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

23. Every Breath You Take

“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.

“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.

“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.

“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”

“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”

Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.

He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.

“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.

Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”

Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”

“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.

“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.

But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.

Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”

“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.

Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?

“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.

Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”

“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.

“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.

But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”

Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.

“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.

Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”

Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.

Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.

Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?

He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.

“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.

Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.

“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.

Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”

Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.

And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he���d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?

But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.

However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.

But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.

Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.

“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”

“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.

He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.

Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.

Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.

Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.

“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”

Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.

“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”

See? Wine.

“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.

“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”

“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.

“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.

“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.

There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.

Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.

And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.

On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.

“Dean, please…”

That was the fourth – like clockwork.

Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.

Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.

“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”

“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”

“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.

“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.

“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”

But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.

She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.

Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.

But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?

With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.

She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.

He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.

All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.

However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.

Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.

Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.

But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.

“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.

“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.

Oh.

“Uh…”

Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.

The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.

“Dean? Dean!”

Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.

He does know how to make an entrance.

Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”

“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”

“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”

“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”

“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.

The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”

With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.

“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.

“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.

“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”

“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”

Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”

As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.

“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.

Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.

“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.

“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”

“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.

“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.

Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.

“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.

Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.

“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.

“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”

Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.

“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.

“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”

At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.

“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.

Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”

Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”

“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”

Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.

“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.

“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.

“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.

Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”

“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”

“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”

Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.

Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.

Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.

“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”

“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.

“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”

“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.

Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.

“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”

“Yeah, I get it…”

Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.

But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.

And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.

“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.

“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”

“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”

“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”

Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”

“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”

“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.

Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.

“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.

With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”

“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”

“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.

“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.

“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”

“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.

“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.

“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.

“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”

“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.

“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”

Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.

“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.

“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”

Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.

“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.

Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.

“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”

Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”

Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”

It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.

“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.

“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”

“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.

Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.

“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.

24. Don't Dream It's Over

Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔 But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus

Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi

[sinfulseashell]

Question for Y!Bonten how could they react if their darling escaped from them and started a new life with someone else?

Y!Mikey: Of course the male would absolutely go berserk if his darling was ever to think that anyone else would treat them better than he could, but fear nearly consumed him as he thought for a moment looking over at the host with an icy glare. “Escaping is one thing, but having the audacity to find someone else? Well…let’s just say there would be two less bastards on this god forsaken earth.”

Y!Sanzu: “Oh wow, well I guess one idiot plus another can make a deathly combination!” He cackled. “How fucking dumb could they be to find someone else, but let’s give the benefit of the doubt that my darling had the gall to have another person even touch them the way I do.” His snarl twisted into a demonic grin, “I will show my darling why they would regret stepping foot out of their haven…let’s just say the show would be more gruesome than any horror movie could ever show legally.”

Y!Bonten: Each male expressed a disgusted feature as they shook their heads in unison.

Y!Koko: “So we all agree that Sanzu is never allowed to come these interviews when it comes to murder.”

Host: “Wait…none of you said anything…also…all of you commit murder?”

Y!Rin: “Ok one, we don’t need words to communicate, I know you noticed the silence after his comment. Two, we commit murder because it’s necessary yet this sociopath commits murder as a fucking hobby.”

Y!Sanzu: He emits a boisterous laugh while wiping tears from his eyes, “Ah…it’s true. I have a scrapbook as well.” He smiles happily.

Y!Rin: “Do I need to say anything more?”

Host: “Oooookay…noted.”

Y!Takeomi: “Well that was unsettling…anyways. I wouldn’t say that I would be happy my darling started their life over.” He gritted his teeth at the thought that his darling could find someone else so damn easily…replacing him. The thought made his stomach churn, “As if replacing me would be the best option for them…I would murder anyone who would try to take them away from me.” He growled.

Y!Ran: “Well the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. Looks like you and Sanzu have so much in common, makes sense why the two of you are related.”

Y!Sanzu: “How dare you say something so fucking disgusting in my presence! No fucking brother of mine, as far as I know I don’t have family.” He hissed.

Y!Takeomi & Host: 😐

Y!Koko: “We’re not here to discuss their family drama, wait…hatred? Disgust? Whatever. We are not here to speak on that. Now as for me, the fact my darling would even think that someone could afford the lifestyle I provide well,” He chuckles while shaking his head, small chuckling turns to laughter. “Ah…ah ok, ok,” Koko clears his throat to continue. “Besides my awesome joke, I doubt that my darling would even survive without me.”

Y!Rin: “Look Im tired. So I’ll make this quick…whoever the dumbass would be I’ll make sure that have a slow painful death while I take my darling back to have the punishment they deserve.” Bringing himself to stand the male makes his way to the door and leaves.

Y!Ran: “Dont mind him, Rin is just tired from taking care of his darling all night. They were sick.” Ran pouts. “Isn’t that so cute though!”

Y!Rin: “SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!” He screams from the other side of the door.

Y!Ran: The male smiles as he turns his attention back to the host, “What would I do if my darling escaped and found someone else? Hmmm, well murder would be first on my list and once I get rid of them then I would make sure my darling was well.” He hums happily, “-but once I know they are fine then I’ll remind them of why they belong to me.” He smirked menacingly.

Y!Mochi: “I dont believe my darling would have a reason to leave. No to toot my own horn or anything, but these guys are monsters compared to me.” He huffed.

Y!Sanzu: “Quit bitching and answer the goddamn question.”

Y!Mochi: “Fine. If my darling were to ever find someone else…even though I know they wouldn’t. I wouldn’t murder the person, but I would purposely break each and every bone in their body enough to keep them conscious throughout the entire time that way their screams of agony could echo off the walls having their cries be the last thing they hear.”

Y!Koko: “Dear god. We all need therapy.” He spoke while pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

Y!Kakucho: His gaze stays focused on the floor before him as if lost in thought when he hears the host call his name it brings him back to reality as he sighs, “I wouldn’t kill them. Or hurt the person that they are with. I want my darling to be happy then I would want them to stay happy, but…a part of me would take them back with me…I can’t…I just can’t be without them…they mean everything to me…” he sighs in frustration. “If I take my darling back and the other person tries to stop me…well then I would have no choice but to kill them.”

[auras-moonstone]

mad woman — ethan landry (part five)

words: 1,769

pairing: ethan landry x gf!fem!reader

based on: mad woman by taylor swift

author’s note: only one more part left ! and the epilogue (if i decide to give y/n and ethan a happy ending).

previous part ; next part

Y/N AND ETHAN WOKE UP AT THE SOUND OF THEIR PHONES RINGING. The girl groaned in annoyance as she reached for the device laying on the drawer. Ethan mumbled something under his breath before grabbing Y/N by the waist to push her against his bare chest again.

The girl laughed kissing his cheek “Eth, it might be important” she whispered. He sighed, letting her go. She took her phone and read the texts that were sent to the group as Ethan pressed short kisses on her neck.

mindy

y/n, ethan we have a plan.

meet us at the park in an hour

tara

hello????

everything okay???

chad

answer us!!!

mindy

fuck he killed her

i told you not to go with him y/n/n

wtf mindy i’m okay

why would you text that if you thought i was dead??

mindy

idk maybe you are seeing me typing

maybe you are stuck in this world trying to get revenge

you want to haunt your boyfriend for killing you!

please stop watching paranormal movies minds

we are okay. we’ll meet you there in thirty minutes

chad

*20

we texted you 40 minutes ago, mindy told you to meet us in an hour

yeah we are not going to make it in twenty

we need to shower

sam

but you went to his dorm specifically to shower

why didn’t you do that already?

i did. but i need to shower again :)

mindy

i’m throwing up rn

tara

she literally gagged

chad

ethan my man!! so proud of you buddy!

he’s still sleeping i tired him out

mindy

DONT PUT MENTAL IMAGES IN MY MIND THAT IS DISGUSTING

lmao i’m just messing with you, minds

mindy

thank god.

because virgins survive, so you two might have a chance

oh i was kidding about him still being asleep

the rest was all true :)

mindy

just stop taking and meet us there🤮

“Why didn’t you get rid of Mindy instead of Anika?” Y/N groaned as they made their way to the shower. “I actually really liked Anika. And my patience with Mindy is running out. I swear next time she says something mean to you I-“

He cut her off with a kiss “God, I love it when you get protective” he pressed against the wall of the shower.

“The shower is for showering, babe” she pulled away.

“Can’t help it” he said kissing her neck and shoulders. Y/N smirked as she turned on the cold water, Ethan quickly stepped back.

“Y/N! What was that for?” he glared at her.

“You are in desperate need of a cold shower” she laughed “Come on, we need to hurry. Your dad said it was important for us to be there”.

Ethan sighed in defeat “Fine”.

“I promise that once this is over, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me” she gave him a peck.

“Anything?” he smirked.

“Anything” she confirmed.

QUINN ATTACKED GALE AT HER HOUSE, ALMOST BEING SUCCESSFUL IN KILLING HER. Right now, the whole group, minus officer Bailey and Kirby, were at the hospital lounge, waiting for any news on the reporter’s health.

Y/N and Ethan were internally fuming. How many fucking lives did Gale Weathers have? It was ridiculous. Though, they really enjoyed seeing Sam’s guiltiness eat her alive.

"What do we do know?" Y/N asked, sitting on Ethan’s lap. He tightened his grip on the girl's frame as she drew invisible circles on his chest.

"Maybe he gets to win this time" Sam said, her voice was a bit shaky. They all looked at her as if she was crazy. "He wants to punish me. Me. So maybe I'll let him. I'll just give myself up. If this is what I have to do, to keep you safe, it's worth it".

"First of all, you are fucking insane if you think we'll let you do that" Y/N told her, no hesitation in her voice.

Tara stood up. "Y/N/N is right. You always protect us, now it's time we protect you. We are a team, remember?".

"We are family" Y/N corrected, standing up and walking towards Sam.

"You can say it, Chad" Mindy said, standing up too.

Chad got into his feet and with a excited smile he said. "Let's go! Core five!".

"Core what?" asked Danny.

"It's an us think" Chad explained briefly.

"He's gonna keep coming after us" Sam warned them.

"Isn't there somewhere safe we can hold up in?" Ethan asked.

"He's just going to keep finding us" Tara told him, making him sigh. "We could use that, though”.

THE FINAL ACT WAS ABOUT TO BEGIN. The group planned on luring Ghostface into a secure location and trap him inside. The final reveal was getting close, and Y/N’s heart beat with excitement. She couldn’t wait to see the life draining from Tara’s eyes. And then, she would continue her life with the love of her life.

"Is this even a good plan?" Ethan asked, his hand gripping Y/N’s tightly, as they walked down the stairs to take the train.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to" Tara replied.

"So we just peel off so the killer takes us off one by one? No, thank you" the curly-haired boy said, making his girlfriend look at him with her eyebrows raised. "And I don't want to leave Y/N alone, of course".

The girl laughed. "You really don't have to come, you know? We are not going to blame you for not going".

Ethan sighed. "No. Like I said, I won’t leave you alone".

“Yeah, very romantic, lovebirds. Can you move now? We are going to miss the train” Mindy said annoyed from behind them.

They walked through the current of people, pushing and shoving to try to get into the train. Just as they were about to enter it, the doors closed right in front of their faces.

"The next one should be here any minute. We won't be that far behind" said Y/N to Ethan and Mindy.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go away" Mindy said to the boy.

"What do you mean?" the girl asked her confused.

"I don't trust your boyfriend".

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Mindy, not right now. Leave your stupid accusations aside, we need to stick together".

"Fine, you can stay with him. I'll wait a couple of feet away" she replied stubbornly.

"Mindy, come on" she said tiredly, but her friend didn't listen. She turned to face the tall boy. "Can I be the one who gets rid of her?".

Ethan tried not to laugh “I’m sorry but we have to take advantage of her stubbornness. Text Quinn, it’ll be less suspicious if you do it”.

“How disappointing” she scoffed, pulling her phone out.

hey quinn. we are about to take the train. we missed the first, so we are taking the next one.

mindy distanced herself from us cause she doesn’t trust your brother.

it’ll be a great opportunity to get rid of her

(i’m so jealous you get to do it btw).

quinn

roger that:)

aw i’m sorry, i promise i’ll be extra brutal for you :)

stop flirting with me!

quinn

no can do ;)

“Hey, what the fuck?” Ethan whispered, reading the conversation over her shoulder.

Y/N laughed “Don’t worry, pretty boy. My heart is only yours”.

“That’s right. You are mine” he said, gripping her hips.

“You are so hot when you get territorial” she said pressing a kiss on his jaw.

When they boarded the train, Mindy walked towards the end of the wagon, away from them but at a reasonable distance so she could keep an eye on Ethan.

“This is perfect” Y/N whispered, looking around. The train was crowded with people dressed as famous killers—Jason, Michael Myers, Ghostface, Pennywise.

"What’s your favorite scary movie, darling?” the boy joked. He was towering over her, and her back was pressed against a metal tube.

Y/N rolled her eyes "Shut up, idiot. I was never a fan of those types of movies”

“Maybe that could be one of our dates, watching scary movies”

“I’ll do anything as long as it’s with you” she smiled sweetly. He got closer to her, now they were chest against chest, and kissed her cheeks multiple times.

“Gross” said a familiar voice from next to them. Just after that, the light went out.

“That’s your cue, Quinnie” Y/N told her.

“Don’t call me that” she grumbled before starting to get closer and closer to Mindy.

On the next stop, when a big number of people stepped out of the train, the couple turned around to see Mindy sitting on the floor, hands pressed to her stomach and blood staining her shirt.

"No, fuck!" Y/N yelled faking concern as she ran towards her. She wanted to smile so badly at the sight of the girl in pain "You've got to be kidding me! I'm so sorry, Minds".

"Somebody help!" Ethan screamed, but no one moved one finger to do something. "Shit. We've got to get her out of here".

Y/N nodded. "Breath deep" she told her before pulling her to her feet. The girl let out a groan of pain as the couple lead her out of the train. "Thanks for nothing, assholes!".

"Somebody call 911!" Ethan yelled as they put the wounded girl on the floor of the station. "Are you okay?".

"Yeah, I'm so good" she said through her teeth.

"You're going to be okay" Ethan told her.

"Goddam it! I got it wrong again!" she cried. The paramedics arrived and started to check on the wounded girl.

"Is she going to be okay?" Y/N asked them.

"Yes, your friend will be fine, don't worry. We are going to give her painkillers, while we drive her to the hospital" they informed her.

“Minds, they need all the help they can get. I hate to leave you alone, but…” Y/N started.

Mindy nodded in understanding “You have to help them, it’s okay. Go”.

“If you need anything, call me okay?” Y/N told her.

“I’ll be fine, really. Just… be careful with him, okay? I know he’s your boyfriend and you like him, but never trust the love interest”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay” she assured her before the paramedics took her away. “Heard that? I should be careful with you” she turned around with a smirk to face her boyfriend. “Are you gonna hurt me?”.

Ethan laughed “Depends, are you into those types of kink?”.

“You really should’ve taken that cold shower” Y/N said rolling her eyes, but smiling nonetheless. “Now, let’s go. It’s time for the big finale, baby!”.

[cowboylikemalika]

Simon “ghost” Riley head cannons

Warnings?- fem! Reader, fluff, probably very out of character ghost

He loved casual affection, when he would come home after missions he’d just want to cuddle. No sex just cuddles and/or hugs while you do what you need to do.

Simon just came back from a gruelling mission, it was especially hard because he had been missing you. It wasn’t much better there were quite a few times he came close to death, he would never actually die though, after all who would take care of you then? He seen you, you were there making dinner for when he came home. Simon’s heavy boots making little to no noise on the hard wood floor, sneaking up behind you. Being honest even if Simon was being loud, you wouldn’t hear, to caught up in the music playing. He pulled you into a hug, gently swaying back and forth.

He was a very homey person, he loved lazy mornings and late movie nights, he hated being away from you.

He splashed out on you quite a bit, he would never really buy things for himself so he would spent the money on you, you looked at a dress for a little to long, he’d make an excuse to go into the shop to get it for you.

“Simon, baby, look at this dress” you say excitedly showing him a picture of a dress you seen in a shop window “mhm looks pretty sweetheart, how much?” He whispers the last bit into your neck. “Uhm 135” you mumble under your breath, “speak up.” He commands “135” you say a little louder “use my card baby” he smiles as your eyes light up “you sure?” You wipser as he nods into your neck.

He loved the way your eyes lit up when he mentioned something you said that you thought he didn’t hear, he was trained to listen to everything going on around him in the military and that carried out into his everyday life.

He would wake up always at least five minutes before you did so he could watch you, all peaceful, In your dream with nothing to hurt you.

Simon hated not being around you, you’re gonna go to the shop? Give him a second to put his shoes on and he’ll go with you. You’re going for a walk? Let him get dressed and come with you. He especially hates it when he has to go on missions, being away from you for that long drives him insane.

“Hey Simon, I’m going for a walk.” You mention putting your coat on “give me a second baby, I’ll come with,” he says grabbing his shoes and shoving them on, messily tying the laces before grabbing his coat and keys and walking out with you. “Simon I’m going to the corner shop, want anything?” You shout across the house “wait I’ll come with you!” He shouts scrambling off the chair he was sitting on. “Simon I’ve survived without you for god knows how many years, I’ll be fine going to the shop alone,” you laugh “I know but people are out for me baby, they might use you to get me.” He explains

He loved making you coffee, even if he hated it he wanted to show that he pays attention to everything you like, even if that’s coffee with one part cream.

[lightwise]

TBB S3E7 Reactions

Alright, in lieu of an analysis this week, you guys get some extra long reactions from me. Spoilers for Extraction under the cut!

- Of course the operative is still alive after being completely buried by rocks

- You okay there Rexy boy?

- Aww, Crosshair helping him up

- “There’s always another way” feels like foreshadowing

- CX does sound awfully like Tech when he’s grunting. Either that or DBB has only one way of making groaning noises 😂

- The rim lighting in this episode is such a pain for making screenshots but so satisfying for watching

- The modified clone theme when Wolffe lands 😭

- Wolffe was really getting 3PO flashbacks there with that disgusted sigh

- Isn’t Hilo a canon commando?? Or is he from legends?

- I will never get over how realistic light looks in this show

- There’s no way that CX just caught himself with his hands

- “We’re waiting on you” they’re not leaving Crosshair behind this time 🥹

- Lol Batcher. Licking cute clones faces. Always the priority

- How is this CX such a good shot??

- Oh Wolffe definitely has a constant headache. Idk how he’s actually put up with being in the Empire this long.

- This purple atmosphere is so pretty

- “I’m much worse” — SCREAMING. And the little tilt with his helmet to make his point clear? This man can have me however he wants. Anytime, anywhere. Call me, baby (I hope someone laughed at that lol)

- So Hunter does hear the ships. I wonder if his senses are more tuned for mechanical vibrations and animal life than people

- Lol Howzer is this really the time for a heart to heart?

- “Loyalty meant something to me” 🫡

- Lol that TK Trooper sounded like a mid-Atlantic 50s movie star

- How is the operative this nimble? Seems suspicious

- Smoke bombs are CF99s signature

- Interesting that for once the stun bolts are being used ON the Batch instead of by them.

- Wrecker and Batcher are a great team

- Hunter just dropping that TK and then Crosshair taking out their ship. Phew

- Also not suspicious at all that they’ve neutralized all the TKs and left the clone troopers for later.

- How did Crosshair sense the operative coming up behind them?

- RIP Nemec 😓

- “Too bad” 😩😩😩

- Oh Cross, you know you’re not the best at hand to hand combat. This is a very bad idea

- That waterfall is pretty though

- Dear lord why did they have to make these scenes so dark

- Oh fuck. I can’t even tell who threw who off the cliff

- The whole squad going after Crosshair even though he told them to get to the extraction point 😭

- CX obviously knows Crosshair and has beef with him. Again, for the millionth time—WHAT THE HELL DID HEMLOCK DO TO ALL OF THEM

- “You had your chance to be one of us. You chose the wrong side”. Really can’t wait for this to be explained.

- Crosshair’s reflexes are so fast for being all gangly limbs

- Okay I seriously almost had a heart attack here (this is a rewatch so my reactions aren’t immediate but holy cow I almost couldn’t believe what I was seeing watching Crosshair almost drown. Don’t you dare do it Jen!)

- It is v suspicious how fixated on Crosshair CX is even after he’s neutralized him

- Thank GOD for Howzer

- Okay, I can breathe a little again

- That’s…an awfully long fall for someone to survive

- The TBB team took the water scenes from The Crossing in season 2 and said, yeah, how about we just make that a million times better 🤯

- “That’s not Echo”. No, no it is not

- Good to know that Rex is still considered dead by the Empire (although that honestly seems strange that CX in season 2 knew who he was). That’s heartbreaking that Wolffe thought he was dead this whole time though

- Wow. The respect these two men have for each other

- “Oh I did. Lost a lot of good men that day” *cries in TCW season 7*

- Idk how Rex keeps going honestly

- His voice may be gentle but his face means BUSINESS

- Rex 🤝 Omega - believing the power of friendship can save anyone and anything they come across

- Fuck your orders Wolffe

- “I’ll make sure you’re given a fair trial” you really have no idea who you work for Wolffe do you

- Hunter being willing to stand down when Rex asks him to

- “I know you. As your brother, I’m asking you to do the right thing” the brotherly reunions this season are just paralleling all over the place

- Gregor the handsome fellow that you are. I swear his pauldrons get bigger every time we see him

- “Let my people go” the Exodus vibes are strong here too

- Guess we’re gonna be finding out what makes this CX so special. Still can’t believe he survived.

- Rex just lost almost all of his men again 😣😭

- The sheer respect and care that Hunter and Rex have for each other. The hand on the shoulder. The losses that tie them together. The worry and earnestness in Hunter’s face and tone when he tells Rex he can’t win. He doesn’t emote this much to people he doesn’t consider family.

- The ways Hunter still is hesitant to do anything but run and hide, and Rex still can’t give up. Not quite yet.

- How Hunter won’t be able to either until they know what is really going on with Omega.

[hangster-hangout]

The Love Chicken

“My dad said he knew my mom was the one over a bottle of wine and the best roast chicken he ever had.”

“And now you’re making it for Hangman. So he can figure out that you’re the one.”

“Something like that.”

Bradley cooks for Jake. It goes even better than expected. 

(post canon, getting back together, straight up sweet fluff)

The ridiculously catchy intro to an old Fall Out Boy song cuts through the classic rock station he has on. Phoenix.

Bradley puts her on speaker as he sautés the green beans and glances at the timer on the stove. 

“Hard deck in an hour?”

“Can’t. Plans.”

“With Hangman? Bring him along.”

“Maybe later.” The timer set for the potatoes goes off and it takes Natasha about two seconds to put it together.

“Are you…cooking for him?” And Bradley is a lot of things but he’s not a great liar so while he tries to think of a way to change the subject, Natasha lets out a low whistle. “It’s going to be different this time, right?”

Because she was there for the first time, the messy fights and makeups that never truly fixed things. Bradley and Jake had something that burned so bright but crashed before it truly had a chance to take off, both of them falling too fast and terrified the other wasn’t.

Bradley was going to make sure it was different this time. 

“Yeah. It already is. These last two weeks…” After the mission he and Jake had been damn near inseparable. At first, Bradley thought Jake just needed to see him, needed proof he really did survive. But the more hours they spent together, laughed together, the more Bradley realized this is what it was supposed to be like. 

Bradley was aware he never truly got over Jake, but he forgot just how desperately he loved him. And unlike all those years ago, he was finally courageous enough to tell him. 

“My dad said he knew my mom was the one over a bottle of wine and the best roast chicken he ever had.”

“And now you’re making it for Hangman. So he can figure out that you’re the one.”

“Something like that.” It’s a testament to how nervous he must sound that she doesn’t make fun of him. 

“What time is he coming over?” Bradley glances at the clock. 

“Five minutes. But it’s Jake so-“ he hears a rustling of keys in the door. “Oh god, he’s here.”

“You got this Bradshaw. Enjoy the Love Chicken.” And Bradley barely has enough time to hang up and toss his phone on the counter before Jake walks in. 

“You said to bring a bottle of wine but I weirdly don’t know if you’re a red or white guy so,” he holds up his hands, a bottle in each. “I brought both.” Jake looks between the roast chicken resting on the stovetop and the kitchen table set with actual cloth napkins. “You trying to wine and dine me so you can tell me you need help burying a body?”

“Can’t a guy do something nice?” Rooster rolls his eyes and gets the roasted potatoes out of the oven. Jake lets out a low whistle. 

“Oh this is very nice. I love roasted potatoes.”

“I know.” Bradley says and he turns to the vegetables so Jake doesn’t see the red flush coloring his cheeks. 

They open the red wine and have an easy conversation over dinner, only arguing about the superior movie in the Mighty Ducks franchise.

“But the Bash Brothers! And the knuckle puck!” Jake waves his fork around and Bradley laughs but doesn’t give in. He’ll never bet against the original, that movie helped raise him.

He takes a deep breath, knowing that dinner is near over and its time to actually talk to Jake. Bradley puts his hands on his thighs, forcing them to be still and is about to start talking when Jake swallows another bite of chicken and makes a satisfied sound.

“Jesus Bradshaw, you cook like this again for me and I’ll marry you.” Jake leans back in his seat and the sunlight hits his golden hair just so perfectly and before he knows it Bradley is blurting out:

“Okay.”

It’s silent. Jake’s eyes pop open and Bradley can feel his cheeks start to heat up, the flush working its way up his neck. There’s no way he can play this off as a joke, no way to take it back. It was too serious, too honest and too revealing of everything he ever wanted.

“Shit,” Bradley mutters under his breath. “Shit Jake, I’m sorry, I made this dinner to talk to you about maybe giving us a shot, like a real one.” The words don’t stop coming out and Bradley starts talking even faster. “Because you’re really important to me and I want a relationship with you because I think, no, I know you’re the one and-“

He’s interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. A second later he has a lapful of Jake Seresin and he has barely enough time to register the shock before he is being kissed. 

And oh boy is Bradley being kissed. 

It’s different from the ones they shared before, kissing Jake was always incredible but it had an undercurrent of competition and neither every truly let themselves get lost in it. This was nothing like that. The walls were down for both of them and they were both, finally, all in. 

Bradley’s not sure how long they stay like that until Jake moves his head slightly back and rests his forehead against Bradley’s. 

“Holy shit. I really might marry you.” Jake’s voice is full of wonder. Bradley rolls his eyes but brings his hands up to cup Jake’s face.

“Typical, you fly right from being friends to being engaged.” On the last word, a shiver runs through Jake.

“I’m dead serious, baby.” Jake says and Bradley’s heart is about to literally leap out of his chest. He stares at Jake for a second more and smiles.

“I already said yes, didn’t I?”

—

Later, as they are tangled up in bed and Bradley’s head is resting on Jake’s bare chest, Jake leans over to check the time on his phone. He chuckles and Bradley look up at him, one eyebrow raised.

“A new message in the group chat.” Jake holds his phone out for Bradley to see.

Phoenix: So are you two boyfriends?

“That’s presumptuous to send it to everyone.” Bradley snorts and Jake laughs. 

“Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who didn’t realize i was a sure thing.” And even after everything that happened over the last few hours, hearing it still makes Bradley smile. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jake runs a hair through Bradley’s curls. “I’ve been crazy about you since like…five minutes after we met. Hasn’t really stopped.” Bradley adjusts himself so he’s next to Jake.

“Never stopped for me either. Doubt it ever will.” And Jake smiles and Bradley thinks ‘yeah, this is it.’

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

Hangman: Fiancées actually. See y’all Monday.

And they turn off their phones and fall back together.

[hannahssimblr]

Clóda is waiting on the couch when I come back with fingers drumming on her knees, “There’s orange juice on the floor,” she points out. “Did someone spill it?”

“Oh, sh- yeah, Ivy did. I haven’t had a chance to clean it yet.”

“Do you need help?”

“God, no, it’s fine, I’ll just-” I dip into the bathroom and yank some toilet paper off the roll and then start layering it over the spill. God, this is embarrassing. Why did I invite her into this mess? She shouldn't be seeing any of this. The house was supposed to be clean and fragrant with some cool music playing and maybe even one of my mother’s less fancy and less noticeable candles lit on the shelf, but no, here I am on my knees beside Clóda, mopping up orange juice with toilet paper that is rapidly disintegrating and turning to mush in my hands.

To add insult to injury she says, “how’s the whole babysitting thing going?”

“Yeah amazingly. So good.”

She looks around her again and I fear that she will spot something else that’s gone wrong, but she just says, “This beach house is pretty nice.”

“Yeah we’re lucky.”

“Do your parents, um, do they have good jobs?”

“Yeah, you could say that I suppose, my dad’s a dentist and my mom is an actuary.”

“What is that?”

I shrug, “Basically she works in insurance, it’s very boring.”

“I actually used to always wonder who owned this house. I’d see it every time I was walking to the end of the beach, but like, it’s shut up all winter so I never really knew anything except for that some wealthy family from Dublin owns it.”

“We’re not that wealthy,” I gather the soaking tissue in my hands and go and dump it into a waste paper basket. “Probably about the same as you, huh? Didn’t you say that your dad owns the boat club?”

“It’s in the family, yeah, but that’s the only business we own now since we had to sell the restaurant in town.”

“Oh now you have just one business?” I slump down next to her and make sure that our elbows are touching, “I didn’t know you were lowly peasants. God, how do you survive off that?”

“Shut up,” she smirks at me, “It’s not all great, with the recession and all..”

“Yeah the recession,” I roll my eyes, “It’s always the recession this and the recession that these days, isn’t it?”

“Yeah it’s so boring, I don’t care about economics or anything like that.”

“Same. I never pay attention in business class.” I spring forward and grab the TV remote from the table, trying to be very cool and play off the fact that it is now sticky after Ivy mauled it with her child-hands. “You want to watch a movie?”

“Okay.”

“What kind?”

“Do you have the movie channels?”

“Yeah all of them.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah.”

“At your holiday house?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re wealthier than I am then.”

I laugh, “Come on, let’s pick a movie. What’s on? Oh look, Ocean’s Thirteen is there, or… Bruce Almighty.”

“What about P.S I love you?”

I flick it on without hesitation, “Yeah sure.”

She laughs in disbelief, “Really?”

“Why not?” We’re not looking for Oscar winners here, just some background noise, and anyway, sometimes I secretly don’t mind chick flicks that much, at least it offers some ambient background noise instead of the gunshots and helicopters that are always in the films I watch with the guys. Obviously I love those kinds of movies, but girls aren't often as enthusiastic.

I sit back and drape my arm over the back of the couch. Not touching her, not yet, but enough to break any awkward tension and dissipate any confusion she may have about why I invited her over. See, I’m slick like that.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” I murmur as the opening credits roll. 

“As if. He thinks I’m at Rachel’s house. You know he actually asked me about you earlier when you came by the boat club.”

“Was he wondering if I work out?” 

She laughs, “No, he was all like ‘who was that young fella hovering around the door?’ and all, he says you look rough.”

“‘Rough’?”

“I think it’s the shaved head, makes you look like a skanger.” 

I pretend to be shocked, “A skanger? I’m no skanger.”

“Well I know that, but you look like one when you don’t have any hair.”

I run a hand over my head. There’s nothing I can do about it now. “And Rachel? Does she know that you’re supposed to be with her?”

Clóda shifts guiltily, “Um, no. She’s mad at me actually, so I haven’t talked to her in a few days.”

I shift in close to face her. I shouldn’t be addicted to teen girl drama but it’s fascinating. The things they say and do to one another are always crazy, it’s true psychological warfare. “Oh yeah? What happened?”

“Oh, just, you know.”

“You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

“She’s annoyed because she called first dibs.”

“On?”

She blushes bright pink and looks away, and I understand that this is about me. They should probably be more relaxed about this kind of thing, because Shane fancied Clóda too but I got there first. There’s no hard feelings, it’s just how it works, and I think girls might have an easier time if they got on board and accepted things like this.

“Did you tell her that I said I don’t fancy her?”

“No, do you think I should? I’ll tell her that you think she’s annoying or something.”

“Um, no, don't tell her that.”

“She is annoying though.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Clóda scoffs, “She is, she, like, copies everything I do. If I curl my hair, she curls her hair, if my nails are purple then her nails are purple, she has no originality. It just annoys me so much.”

“Yeah that sounds tough, I guess, but if you wanna tell her as much then you have to say that it’s you that thinks it, not me. I don’t want to get involved.”

“Do boys have this type of drama?”

“No.”

“Right… I’m sorry for bringing it up, you probably think it sounds really stupid.”

“I don’t, it’s okay, you can chat to me about it if you want.”

“Well, okay then,” she says, and launches immediately into a ten minute tirade about Rachel and how annoying she is, and how this relates to and ties in with some other girls at their school in some friend group they’re in, and I try my best to stay engaged but it’s frankly confusing. I can’t keep track of who’s who, and sometimes it’s Clóda herself, the main focus of all of these stories, who seems to be in the wrong. She keeps saying things like “Do you know what I’m saying?” and I don’t, but I suppose it’s okay and I can just nod along because what’s important is that she’s here and the things about her that are nice make any doubts I may have about her dissipate and float away for now. Like her eyes, hazel, the beauty spot on her chin and that view of the side of her neck when she tucks her hair behind her ear. When I picture myself putting my mouth there her words don't really matter. 

The next time she looks up at me through long, black lashes she trails off, her sentence dies on her lips because she knows I have stopped listening. She knows I am going to kiss her, and I am, because I’ve already subscribed to the idea that kissing her would be so nice. 

She watches my hand as I move to push a piece of her hair away from her face and then locks her eyes on me as I lean in and press my lips to hers, and while the idea is nice, so nice, the reality is different. It is wet and messy and she’s still not very good at this. I don't know why I half expected her to have improved in the last week, but it’s alright because I’m two things, I’m patient and I’m a good teacher.

“Like this,” I murmur, drawing back with her face in my hands and dotting kisses to her mouth. 

Her breath hitches, “Am I bad?”

“No, I'm just trying to show you how I like it.”

My phone begins to buzz in my pocket and I ignore it. I don’t know why she is so eager to unhinge her jaw and shove her entire tongue in my mouth, but I’m not letting her. Every time she tries I pull back and start again as the phone stops ringing. Then it begins again. 

Clóda sounds dazed, “Is someone ringing you?”

“Never mind it.” We kiss more as it vibrates furiously against my thigh.

“It’s kind of distracting.”

“Really?” 

“Mm.”

I grumble to myself and pull it out of my pocket to see Joe calling, and I pull a face. This guy should not be calling me. Preferably he wouldn’t even have this kind of access to me past six PM, or actually, my number at all, but I answer it anyway. 

“Yeah?”

“Hey man.”

I pause for several incredulous seconds, “Yeah, hey. What’s up?”

“Nothin’ much man, how are you?”

“Why are you ringing me?”

“Oh! I think Jen wants you to come and get her.”

“Jen?” I sit up straight letting Clóda’s hands and legs drop away from me. “What’s wrong?”

“We dunno, man. She’s just crying and shit. She just says that she wants you to come over.”

“Where are you?” 

“My brother’s house.”

I pinch the skin between my eyebrows, “Did you- did she-” I’m hyper aware of Clóda listening to my every word, “Is she, um, intoxicated?”

“Yeah man, she took a couple yokes and then started freaking out, I dunno. She’s outside crying and asking for you.”

“You left her outside?”

“That’s just where she was.”

“Can you put her on the phone?”

“Um, she can’t really talk, she’s kinda hypo- hyp- she’s gasping really hard.”

“Okay, I’m coming,”

 I stand up as Clóda watches me. “Where?” She says as I finish up the phone call. 

I move through the room frantically grabbing keys, money, “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry but I have to go and get Jen. She’s at a party tonight and she’s not feeling well,” I instinctively reach to paw at the front of my hair though it isn’t there anymore. “This is terrible, I know, I wish-”

“You want me to stay here?” She glances around awkwardly. 

“Well… yeah, you know, I can’t leave my sister in the house on her own, and Jen needs to be brought home, I promise that I won’t be long, the house she’s at is just down in the village, like ten minutes each way, and-”

“Yeah I suppose, I-”

“As a huge favour?” I interject desperately, “Can you just stay? I’ll owe you one, and you don’t have to do anything, just sit here for like, twenty minutes, half an hour max and I’ll be back.”

“I have to be home by eleven.”

“I’ll be back before then.”

“Um. Okay.”

“Yeah, great, finish the movie, um… thank you so much, seriously. I’ll be right back.” I rush up the stairs and out the front door. This is bad. This is genuinely terrible, but there’s nothing that I can do about it, so I push all thoughts about what is happening to the back of my mind and climb onto my bicycle. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel by the Wing - THREE

Chapter Warnings: alcohol, allusions to smut but nothing descriptive, finally getting into the plot of the movie

If you want to be added to the tag list for this series, let me know!

Series Masterlist

“Well, well, here comes trouble and make it double,” you sang as the two men approached your counter. “It’s good to see you again, Javy.”

“How’re you doing, little lady?”

“You left me here with him all alone, Javy,” you teased. “I’ve had to suffer through Jake being Jake all by myself.”

Javier placed a hand over his chest in mock horror. “My god, how have you survived?”

“It’s a hard job, but someone’s gotta do it.”

“Alright, alright,” Jake grunted. He leaned against the bar counter, signature toothpick dangling between his lips. “I’m standing right here.”

You patted his hand in a conciliatory manner and then turned to grab their usual drinks. Coyote grinned as you passed him his usual Miller Lite. He tossed his card to you and you caught it and affixed it to the register with the receipt under his name. Jake passed you his card over the counter and you winked, his Stella Artois clutched in your other hand.

“Price has raised, Hangman. What’ll you pay for it?”

“How about a kiss?”

You pushed up onto the counter as he pecked your cheek. Coyote rolled his eyes at your little public display of affection, but he said nothing. You lowered yourself back down and patted Jake’s hand again.

“Alright, outta my way. I have other customers, y’know?”

He leaned in close, his eyes darting around at the customers pouring into the small bar. “Ring that bell four times, darlin’, and we’ll be right over.”

“I know, Tex. You got my back, Coyote?”

“You know it.”

They left the counter and you figured they were heading back towards the dart boards. A few other customers were beginning to settle in at the other seats. The energetic beat of David Bowie began to stream through the speakers and you nodded along to the song as you made up a gin and tonic and passed it to the customer.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” you asked the new customer seated at the bar. He was probably around Penny’s age and wore an old leather aviator jacket. Probably here for Top Gun, you deduced. He offered you a small, tight smile.

“Whatever’s on tap,” he said. You stared at him blankly for a moment and then sighed.

“Well, we got about eight of those so…you want to hear some options?”

He chuckled at your response and nodded, so you forged on ahead. “We’ve got a pale ale, some local brews, Blue Moon, two IPA’s, a Bavarian, and an American brown ale. I’m not a huge beer drinker, but I know folks like the pale ale or Blue Moon.”

“I’ll try the pale ale, then.”

You pulled a draft of the pale ale into the pilsner glass and set it before him. He passed you his card and you added it to the growing list of tabs. It was getting closer to six so that meant the post-work crowd was starting to spill into the bar. Your focus was affixed entirely on getting orders and getting drinks out.

Penny was talking to the guy you served earlier and you let out a breathy laugh when she rang the bell, clearly catching him for breaking the phone rule. People crowded the counter for a free drink, but luckily you were used to the rush. In a way, it was exhilarating. You didn’t have time to think aside from the practiced moves of measuring, shaking, and pouring out drinks. It was all muscle memory at this point.

“Penny, my dear, and sugar darlin’.” Jake leaned up against the bar next to where you were working.

“Yup?” your boss replied.

“I’ll have four more on the old timer.”

You pulled the beers out of the ice buckets below and slid them across the counter. “Phoenix here yet?”

“Yes, indeed, ma’am.” You perked up at the thought of seeing one of your closest friends. The two of you ganged up on Hangman and Coyote, but she struggled to understand how you could constantly put up with Jake. Her ribbing was always more harsh towards Jake, but you stayed out of it. Their beef was a pilot thing and you knew better than to get between two pilots.

“Go play nice with the others, Hangman,” you drawled.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jake winked at the guy who was paying for the round. “Much appreciated, pops.”

“You are such an ass.” The warmth in your tone betrayed your words and he shot you that cocky, panty-dropping smirk that usually had girls tripping over their feet for him. You simply raised your middle finger up and smiled brightly. He stopped at the jukebox first and switched the song to Foghat.

God, what a tool.

You gathered up some glasses and brought them to the kitchen where Chelsea, the dishwasher for the night, was glaring murderously at the dishwasher. You chuckled and set your tray down next to the sink.

“Is it giving you trouble again?”

“No, it’s just slow as fuck,” the college student replied, blunt as always. You patted her shoulder and looked around at the kitchen.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Nah. Penny mentioned that y’all might be low on soda soon for the mixers.”

You headed back to the cellar to grab more cans and thanked her on the way out. Pushing open the door, you entered into what appeared to be chaos. Hangman and Coyote were escorting the guy Penny had been chatting with throughout the night out the door and into the sand. The jukebox radio had stopped playing and you could hear the chords of the piano being struck.

“What the fuck did I miss?” you exclaimed as you passed Penny at the counter. You added the crate of drinks to the dwindling supply under the counter and then stood next to her.

“Never get involved with a naval aviator, hun,” Penny sighed. “Aw shit, wait. You and Hangman, right?”

“Eh, it’s less being involved and more…” You trailed off, unsure how to phrase it for the woman who was practically a second mom to you. She nudged your shoulder with hers and jerked her chin out towards the throng of people.

“Do you mind cleaning up around the floor? I can hold down the fort here.”

“I mean, you do pay me to do things like clean so I guess.” Your phone buzzed with a notification but you swiped it away without looking. The only people who would be contacting you this late at night were all in this bar so it couldn’t be important.

Grabbing an empty tray from under the counter, you waded out into the crowd of bodies and started collecting empty and discarded bottles and glasses around the bar. Everyone was crowding around the piano and singing along to the old Jerry Lee Lewis song, Great Balls of Fire.

Phoenix spotted you moving your way through the crowd and she waved you over. You settled your tray on top of one of the tables and pressed yourself against her side. Her normally tough facade melted at the sight of her best friend and she pulled you in for a quick hug.

“You saw me a few days ago,” you pointed out.

“Semantics.” She flapped her hand dismissively in your direction. “C’mon, you should meet my friend. He’s in town for work, but he'll probably be around here a lot.”

She tugged you closer to the piano just as the final notes petered off into the bar. Someone plugged the jukebox back in and the heavy thud of bass poured into the air. Phoenix stopped just next to the piano bench and proudly patted the top of the instrument.

“Rooster, this is the friend I was telling you about,” she announced. The pianist turned, his brown eyes locking with yours. Your breath caught in your throat and you lost all semblance of thought for a solid ten seconds. No way. There was no way he was here. Four days ago, he was in Virginia. Where he lived.

“Hi,” he said casually, but a small smile played at the corner of his lips. The same lips that had devolved you into a moaning, wanton mess. And that same damn mustache that had scraped deliciously against the inside of your thigh.

The only word that came to mind was simply eloquent, in your opinion.

“Shit.”

Tag List (strikethrough means it wouldn’t tag you): @mizzzpink​ @xoxabs88xox​ @dreaminglandsworld​ @khaylin27​ @loveforaugust​ @phoenixssugarbaby​ @atarmychick007​ @mak-32​ @shanimallina87 @itsmytimetoodream​

[mayo-advance]

Today on “Mayo is rapidly falling back into their Pietro Maximoff obsession”:

————————-

Thinking about Pietro surviving Sokovia (which is 100% canon) and becoming fast friends with you along with Wanda and you guys are all super close but then the civil war comes around and Pietro of course follows his sister but for some reason or another you’re forced to fight with Stark and you and him spend the entire battle blatantly avoiding fighting each other but the outcome still more or less ends up the same-

And he goes to the underwater prison for that unspecified amount of time, giving you time to reflect and god damn you miss him and why’d you fight for this again? and when Stevie breaks him out and like 60% of the people in that movie go on the run, Wanda goes with Vision and Piet doesn’t want to let his “baby” sister go but they’re too recognizable together so they part with promises to check in when the dust has cleared.

And he ends up finding you because he knows you had no choice, and deep down hes afraid to be alone and you go on the run with him because you have nothing left worth staying for. And yalls get an apartment together somewhere obscure to avoid the government.

He dyes his hair brown, like it originally was so that he doesn’t draw as much attention, and theres this moment between you two where you look and him and are like “I liked the silver better” and you guys finally realize how cut off you are.

But then life turns domestic. You both get jobs and spend your days going to work and coming home together, and you don’t use your powers as much. You see Wanda and Vision every once and while, not as much as any of you would like but-

And just thinking about coming home and just laying with each other and talking about your idle days at work. Thinking about going on morning runs together because you both are trying to retain the fitness and abilities you had as superheros. Thinking about making cheap microwave meals and, when you can afford it, home cooked meals together in this tiny kitchen.

Anyways for some reason my mind sees this little AU ending with him dying in Infinity war.

—————————-

Anyways maybe if i get motivated I’ll write it

[slashvivor]

Dumb Blonde!

Wes x Reader Drabble

Pretty Little Liars: Summer School

Warnings: Violence, Threats of Violence, Threats of Rape, Slut-Shaming, Misogyny, Reader uses She/Her Pronouns, No actual Smut

You’re the resident actress among the Millwood Massacre survivors, and have your vanity challenged when you finally face your Final Girl Test.

“Oh, God…” The words trailed off my tongue as I took in the sight before me, a chapel decorated with rows of horrifying masks on planks. The sight left me sick to my stomach, a fear building within. The fear I felt when I had been locked in the confession booth was nothing compared to this.

I knew I had to run, scream, flee, whatever, but my body didn’t seem to want to cooperate. I wasn’t like Imogen or Faran, I didn’t have an inner strength that went on for miles - I was just a shallow theatre kid.

My hand slowly left my mouth as I stumbled backwards, screaming inwardly at myself to run. My ill-planned means of escape were thwarted when my back hit something cold and hard behind me. I spun around in shock, gasping desperately as I found Archie Waters standing before me. I had never been so close to him, to seeing the mask, and bile threatened to spill out of me as I shuffled backwards, hands desperately reaching for a means of self-defence that didn’t exist.

“Get the fucking way of me!” I suddenly gripped a piece of a bench beside me, that ripped away with a shocking easiness. “I’ll fucking kill you!” My threats were a clear juxtaposition to the tears now freely running down my face. It was clear to both of us that I wasn’t capable of defending myself, never mind killing someone.

However hopeless I felt, it increased tenfold when the doors at the end of the church suddenly swung open, to reveal multiple men in horrifying masks swarm in, led by Bloody Rose. “No, no…” I sobbed quietly, continuing my walk backwards, my eyes beginning to burn from how much they were popping out of my skull in shock. “Please, just stay back!”

I tried desperately to think of a way to escape, to prove myself a final girl just like the rest of the group. My eyes desperately scanned the building for a means of escape, as the silent Archie tilted his head, now standing before his allies. The image of him surrounded by his peers made it clear to me that I was all alone in this, and only I could save myself. The sudden rush of survival instincts led to my eyes landing on the giant stained-glass windows, and despite not knowing what floor we were on, I took off without hesitation.

My lungs burned as I ran at full speed towards my potential doom, the sound of deafening footsteps echoing behind me. I reached out desperately for the escape when suddenly, masculine hands wrapped around my waist and pulled me backwards harshly, sending both me and my assailant to the floor.

My head hit the floor with a bang, and for a moment, I could taste blood. The world tilted on its axis as I tried to sit back up, but something I couldn’t quite pin struck me across the face, my face erupting in pain. My dizziness was staggering, and I could only dumbly look up at the figures standing above me as my vision cleared.

The sudden realisation it was Archie Waters and Bloody Rose standing side by side, sent me clumsily reaching for the wood I had dropped - only for my efforts to be foiled by the boogeyman himself stepping onto my hand, causing a sickening crunch. “FUCK! Fucking fuck!” I wailed desperately, my words coming out a spluttering mess as I cradled my limp hand.

“Why?!” My question was even a surprise to myself, my entire body burning in agony as I managed to sit up. “Why are you doing this, you sick fucks?!”

My breath caught in my throat as Archie suddenly reached towards his mask, and pulled it backwards to reveal - Wes. Tabby’s micro-aggressive, misogynistic manager at the Orpheum. I stared in disbelief as memories of our previous encounters raced back to me. His flirty yet inappropriate remarks, his offers of casting me in a movie, his lingering glances.

“Because, gorgeous, before there can be a final girl…” Wes reached into his pocket, and I flinched, assuming the worst. When he pulled out a camera, my fears were proven right. “The dumb slut has to die.” My face flushed a dark red, blushing in embarrassment at his words - at the entire situation.

I shook my head, trying to make sense of what was happening. “But this is…this is my final girl test.”

He scoffed with delight, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “You don’t have what it takes to be a final girl. That’s as clear as day.” I swallowed nervously, plagued with memories of being overlooked to play the main character in Tabby’s many short films, despite being the only one with acting experience among our friend group.

“Final girls are a beacon of light, of innocence. They overcome their ordeal because they are good, pretty, little virgins.” His hand that held the knife suddenly pointed it at me, close enough to send a shiver down my spine. “But you’re vain and shallow.” Wes crouched down suddenly, his face mere inches away from my own. “And everyone knows you’ve spread your legs for half the guys in this town.”

I flinched at his words, my mouth turning dry. “That’s not true, I’m-“ My words were cut short when suddenly the knife was pushed onto my cheek, moments away from being deep enough to draw blood.

He continued his misogynistic monologue, staring into my undoubtedly fear-filled eyes. “Basically every guy but me - and God knows, I’ve given you plenty of chances.” He began to drag the knife downwards to my chin, a silent threat that he could kill me and not break a sweat. “It’s always the biggest sluts who act high and mighty.”

“But despite that, really, I’m giving you what you always wanted.” I blinked in confusion, as he drew the weapon away and stood up. Wes titled his head once again, though, without the mask, his smirk was clear as day. “You’re going to be the star of your very own movie.”

He held the knife up, the weapon glinting from the moonlight leaking through the windows. “And princess, this won’t be the only thing I stick in you tonight.”

[tsarisfanfiction]

The True Story of Atlantis

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family Characters: Will, Gracie, Poseidon According to Percy, Atlantis doesn't exist, despite that being the name of Poseidon's realm. According to mortal stories, Atlantis was destroyed after attempting to conquer Athens. But what's the real story? TOApril day 29 - Lost City. This had me stumped for a while, because all I could think of was "Atlantis" and finding a way to link that back to TOA and also make it fit with what we know of Atlantis in the Riordanverse was a challenge. I do, however, like what I've come up with - but I will preface this fic with a warning for discussion of genodical behaviour. Wiping out an entire civilisation is and will always be an inhumane act of cruelty, even when it's done by gods.

“Hey, Will?”

“Mmm?” he asked, only half-listening to his younger sister as he finished counting up how many boxes of band-aids they still had in the infirmary, and calculating how many more they would need to see them through the new summer.  “What’s up, Gracie?”

She’d only been back at camp for a few hours, one of the first of the summer campers to descend, but Will had welcomed her back already, so this wasn’t her angling her way in for a greeting the way some of his siblings tended to if he didn’t head that off – this was only Gracie’s first return to camp, and Will wasn’t going to let that become a game of hers while he was in charge if he could help it.

The preteen jumped up onto the desk next to his pile of counted boxes, swinging her feet.  They kicked against the furniture in a regular rhythm, because of course they did.  Gracie loved making anything into a drum, even if it was furniture with her own flailing feet as the sticks.

“Mom and I watched a movie last night,” she said, with none of the homesickness some kids had when talking about their mortal parents so soon after leaving them.  Will hoped that meant she was going to settle in well this summer – with no godly shenanigans (there had better not be any godly shenanigans) going on this time, Will was hoping for a calmer year for once.

He hadn’t had a calm year at camp since before Percy had crashed into his life with a minotaur horn and a missing mother.  He thought he was owed one, if the gods had any mercy at all.

“Was it a good one?” he asked, and she nodded her head enthusiastically.

“It was great!” she said.  “Will, is Atlantis real?”

Whatever questions Will had been half-expecting to come at some point, that wasn’t one of them.

“You know that’s a question for Percy, not me,” he deflected, and Gracie gave him a look.

“Percy’s not here,” she said.  “I’m asking you.  In the movie, Atlantis is an old city that’s still surviving because the Queen merged with a crystal and made an awesome barrier, and Mom said that was all fiction, but it was Greek, so is it really fiction?”

Will had no idea what movie she was talking about.

“I don’t know much about it,” he warned her.  “But I don’t think the movie is accurate.”

“Aww,” she pouted.  “But it was pretty!”

He smiled, shaking his head fondly.  “I’m sure Atlantis is pretty, or at least very impressive.  Atlantis is where Poseidon has his palace, which is why you should really be asking Percy this.  I think he’s been there.”

“Percy’s not here,” his sister reminded him again, rolling her eyes like she thought he was being an idiot.  “You are.”

Will sighed and set down his pen, realising that attempting to finish his stock order any time soon wasn’t going to work, not until Gracie’s question was satisfied.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what I know,” he caved, “but remember, I don’t know much.  I only know what I’ve been told.”

He didn’t remember which of his siblings had told him the story, originally.  It had been one of his sisters, during his first summer, but one of the much older ones, that he hadn’t got to know very well before she’d left camp.

“So, there’s a lot of different versions of the myth,” he started, grabbing the chair and pulling it around in front of the desk, so he could face his sister as he spoke – although he couldn’t resist spinning it all the way around, just the once, as he sat in it.  She giggled.  “It’s one of those ones where the mortals believe one thing, for some reason, even though what actually happened was pretty different.”

“Oh?”  She leaned forwards, almost over-balancing as her legs continued thrashing Will’s poor desk.  “Why?”

Will shrugged.  “I don’t know,” he said easily – it was a bit of a lie, because he didn’t think it was a coincidence that the mortal story involved Athens and by extension, Athena, while the true story was based around Poseidon.  He didn’t know the details, though, and he wasn’t stupid enough to start questioning godly intervention or motives where they could hear him.  “But the mortals think that Atlantis was a very powerful island that conquered everything until they tried to conquer Athens.  When they tried that, the gods got mad at them and flooded them out.”

“Why would the gods get mad about that?” Gracie asked.  “Athens was only Athena’s, right?  Why don’t they just say Athena?”

Will shrugged.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “I think there’s quite a lot of mortal versions of the story but I’ve only heard this one.”

She frowned.  “Okay.  So if that’s the mortal one, and you said that’s not the true one, then what is the true one?”

“A good reason to remember to not anger Poseidon,” Will admitted.  “Atlantis was a powerful city, and a powerful naval city at that.  But they were also proud, and arrogant.”

“Pride comes before a fall,” Gracie nodded sagely, and Will grinned at her.

“Exactly,” he confirmed.  “They started to boast.  Said a lot of things, and some of them were probably true, but then they said that they ruled the sea, and that Poseidon did their bidding.  Which was pretty stupid of them.”

Even Gracie had winced at that.  “Gods don’t do mortal’s biddings,” she said, like it was obvious.  “They’re gods.  Even Dad doesn’t do as he’s told.”

Despite himself, Will laughed, remembering how impossible it had been to keep Lester under control even while their father had been mortal.  Bizarrely, he was actually more cooperative as a god, or was at least more likely to do what they asked, if he could.  Still, “no, he doesn’t,” he agreed.  “But the Atlanteans weren’t as smart as us and thought they could get away with claiming control over both the sea and Poseidon himself.”

“So Poseidon destroyed them?” Gracie guessed, and Will nodded.

“Poseidon destroyed them,” he said.  “But it was more than that.  He didn’t just raise the sea to swallow the island whole and drown every single Atlantean.  He also took it for himself, destroying all trace of the civilisation entirely, until it no longer existed, even beneath the sea.  Then he built over it, and even now, his palace is said to be on the site of the drowned island.”

It was pretty horrific, if Will actually stopped to think about it.  The entire eradication of a civilisation, and then creating his own palace directly on top of the ruins.  It would be considered defiling, if it was done by humans.  Genocidal, even.

But Poseidon was a god, and gods just did things like that, back in the Ancient times.  Will sincerely hoped none of them decided to pick those habits back up again in modern times.

Gracie frowned.  “That’s scary,” she said.  “I don’t like that.  I think I like the movie better.”

Will gave her a small smile.  “I think I do, too,” he agreed.