#i keep telling him he should try out for oklahoma

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

[favefandomimagines]

Storm’s Eye (t.o)

Request: @lonelyghosts-stuff “Helllllllo! I hope you are doing well! I was wondering if I could request a Tyler Owens x Reader enemies to lovers fic? I am such a sucker for that trope especially if it's like actually enemies who hate each other but then grow to care through shared experiences and learning about each other. Angsty and life and death stuff. Just super tropey lol”

AN: I’ve been trying a new writing style where I don’t write in the first person but rather the third person, but still using Y/N. Let me know what you guys think!

The sky was a bruised shade of purple.Tyler Owens was behind the wheel of his truck, eyes flicking between the horizon and the radar screen. He gripped the steering wheel, every fiber of his being tuned into the storm brewing in the distance. This was what he lived for—chasing the thrill, the danger.

Beside him, Boone and Javi were having a conversation about the best burgers in Oklahoma, but Tyler wasn’t paying attention. He was more concerned with staying ahead of the supercell that was beginning to form just over the ridge. His mind raced with calculations, predictions, and strategies, keeping track of the storm's trajectory in his head.

Then there was her.

Sitting in the backseat, quietly scrolling through the radar on her own tablet, was the new meteorologist Javi had brought onto the team. Y/N Y/L/N, the woman who had already gotten under Tyler’s skin.

“What do you think, Tyler?” Javi asked, peering over Tyler’s shoulder. “Y/N says we should head north and catch the storm as it loops back around.”

Tyler’s eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, catching Y/N’s gaze. Her eyes were sharp, confident—like she thought she knew everything there was to know about storms. It irked him.

“North?” Tyler scoffed, his voice laced with irritation. “We’re wasting time if we go north. The storm’s going to pivot east, not loop back. If you want to catch it, we need to stay on this road and head southeast.”

Y/N leaned forward, her expression calm but firm. “That storm’s got a hook echo forming. It’s going to swing north before it turns east. If we stay southeast, we’ll miss the rotation.”

“Miss the rotation?” Tyler barked a laugh. “I’ve been chasing storms for years, and I know this system. You’re just reading the radar. I can feel it.”

Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t back down. “You think I’m just looking at a screen? I’ve been in the field, too. And I’m telling you, if we don’t adjust course, we’re going to be too far south to catch anything.”

Javi glanced between them, trying to keep the peace. “Hey, guys, how about we—”

“I’m the leader of this team,” Tyler interrupted, his tone hard. “We’re sticking with my call. We go southeast.”

Y/N crossed her arms, frustration simmering beneath her composed exterior. Tyler knew she was good at her job—Javi wouldn’t have brought her on if she wasn’t—but that didn’t mean he had to like her stepping on his turf.

“I’ll be here when you realize you’re wrong,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Tyler pretended not to hear, though her words festered in the back of his mind.

||

The next few days followed the same pattern. Y/N and Tyler clashed over nearly every decision—where to set up, what direction to head, even which equipment to use. The rest of the team, Boone, Javi, Kate, Lilly, Dani, and Dexter, watched their arguments like spectators at a tennis match, unsure of how to intervene.

“Maybe you should cut her some slack,” Boone suggested one evening after a particularly heated argument.

Tyler grumbled something incoherent and shook his head. Y/N was too smart, too stubborn, and way too sure of herself for his liking.

Later that night, while the others were fast asleep in the small roadside motel they were staying at, Tyler found himself unable to sleep. His mind was still buzzing from the day's chase, from the constant butting of heads with Y/N. He slipped out of his room and headed to the small, makeshift lounge area by the vending machines. To his surprise, Y/N was already there, sitting in one of the chairs with her nose buried in a weather report.

He hesitated, then finally walked over and sat down across from her. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the low hum of the soda machine.

Finally, Tyler broke the silence. “Where’d you go to school?”

Y/N glanced up from her report, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“I asked where you went to school,” he repeated, a little softer this time. “I’m just curious.”

She closed her report and leaned back in her chair. “University of Kansas.”

“Really? That’s a good program.” Tyler couldn’t help but be impressed, though he kept his tone neutral.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s close to home. My dad’s still there, and since my mom died a few years ago, I didn’t want to leave him alone for too long.”

The admission caught Tyler off guard. He hadn’t expected her to open up like that.

“He’s the one who made me want to be a meteorologist,” she continued, a small smile tugging at her lips. “When storm season would roll around, he’d stay calm. No matter how bad it got, he’d explain what was happening so I wouldn’t be scared.”

Tyler was quiet for a moment, processing her words. “That’s…that’s pretty cool.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes softer now. “Why did you start your YouTube channel? Seems like an unusual hobby.”

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to explain. “I started it because if it helps even one person know what signs to look for, where to take shelter, and it saves lives…that’s the goal. Storms are dangerous, but the more people understand them, the better their chances.”

Y/N nodded, and for the first time, Tyler saw something other than frustration in her eyes. They had more in common than he realized. “I was a bull rider before this.” He spoke. Not sure why that was the first thing that came to his mind.

“Really?” She questioned. “Yeah, I was pretty good for a while. But too many bulls to the head, I wanted to get out before I became a vegetable. When deciding what to do next, I remembered how I felt during my first tornado. I knew I was supposed to be scared, my aunt was freaking out in the driver’s seat. But I couldn’t help but feel excited by it. Remembering that feeling helped me decide to go back to school.” Tyler explained.

“I guess you’re not all bad, Owens.” Y/N teased. “You’re not so bad either, Y/N.” Tyler replied, a small smirk on his face.

||

Tyler thought that after their late-night conversation, things might start to smooth out between them. But when they were out in the field the next day, the old tension returned.

Y/N was insisting they head west, while Tyler was adamant that they stick to the eastern route.

“You’re not thinking clearly!” Y/N snapped, pulling out her map and pointing to the storm's trajectory. “The data shows the storm shifting westward. If we don’t move now, we’re going to miss the funnel!”

Tyler’s frustration boiled over. “I’m the leader of this team, Y/N. My decision stands. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the effect was immediate. Y/N’s face fell, all the confidence and fire draining from her. Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t say anything. Just nodded and turned away.

As she walked back to the van, guilt gnawed at Tyler. He knew what he said had hurt her more than he intended. He knew the sting of being dismissed in a profession dominated by men, and he’d just done exactly that to her.

||

The storm that day was worse than any of them had expected. The winds picked up suddenly, driving rain slashing sideways across the open plains. They had barely made it into a small town when the tornado sirens began wailing.

“Get to the storm shelter!” Tyler shouted to the team over the howling wind.

Y/N was running beside him when something caught her eye. She stopped dead in her tracks, looking toward the edge of the street where a young golden retriever, still basically a puppy, was tied to a telephone pole barking frantically.

“Y/N, come on!” Tyler yelled, but she shook her head.

“I can’t leave him,” she shouted back, running toward the dog.

Tyler cursed under his breath and sprinted after her. “Y/N, you can’t—”

“I have to save him!” she interrupted, fumbling with the leash as the wind whipped around her, making it nearly impossible to untie the knots.

For a terrifying moment, Tyler thought they were both going to get swept away by the storm. Without thinking, he grabbed her hands and pulled them away from the leash, then used his pocket knife to cut it.

“Let’s go!” he urged, pulling her to her feet.

She scooped up the dog, and they ran together toward the storm shelter, barely making it inside before the worst of the storm hit.

Y/N collapsed against the wall, clutching the trembling dog in her arms. “Thanks,” she panted, a breathy laugh escaping her lips.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Tyler said, though his heart was still racing from fear, not anger.

She just smiled weakly in response.

||

When the storm passed, Y/N was outside, kneeling beside the dog and handing out food and water to the town’s residents who had been affected. Tyler watched her from a distance, unable to shake the fear he’d felt when he thought she wasn’t going to make it.

He walked over to her, his voice softer than usual. “That dog’s not going to let you out of his sight now.”

Y/N smiled, ruffling the dog’s fur. “He’s our new team mascot.”

Tyler crouched down beside her, his tone serious. “I was scared. I thought you weren’t going to make it. And it made me realize…I’ve been awful to you because I liked you. I was scared of how I felt.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You liked me?”

“Yeah,” Tyler admitted. “And I think…I think I still do.”

Y/N smiled, her voice soft. “Well it’s a good thing that I have feelings for you too, Tyler.” Tyler let out a light laugh before leaning in ever so slightly

Just as they were about to kiss, Boone appeared out of nowhere, grinning like a fool. “So, what’s the plan, lovebirds? Heading back on the road or what?”

Tyler groaned, but Y/N just laughed, the tension between them finally gone, like the storm that had just passed.

[beefrobeefcal]

DEEZ NUTZ feat. Dieter Bravo & f!actress reader

a @happypedrohours challenge fic | Rated: 18+ | word count: 1,522 warnings: no fat men in this fic, smutty smutty smut smut, slight angst/enemies eventually leading to smashing pissers, pistachio theft, pistachios in places pistachios should be A/N: Thank you to @strang3lov3 + @sweetenerobert for their eyes and minds 💜

If you’d told your last-year self that you were going to be stuck on a film set in Oklahoma with the Dieter Bravo for nine weeks during one of the hottest summers on record, past you would be just as unimpressed as current you with the situation. Dieter was known for being out there in his methods and morals, and he did not disappoint. In fact, in every way you were warned about him, no one could have prepared you for how exhausting and annoying he was to work with. But you seemed to be the only one with an issue with him, given that everyone else on the set took his different and strange ways of approaching anything in stride and good humor.

By the third week, you thought you were going insane with how little notice everyone paid to him and his antics, and how much he got under your skin. There were times that he teased you or tried to play around, making you understand – even for a moment – what his allure was; but then he’d take it a step too far and you’d immediately be reminded that he was a thorn in your side.

You hated that you couldn’t get enough of him.

“Fuck off, Dieter!”

“What?”, he snapped, trying to catch up as you stormed out of the sound stage and into the parking lot filled with trailers. “Oh, come on! You can’t be serious!”

You snarled and clenched your fists, stomping towards your trailer. For a man with so few pockets in his wardrobe, you had no idea where Dieter managed to store all the audacity he carried.

Just as you got to the steps of your trailer, he grabbed your elbow, stopping you from opening the door.

“Are you really doing this? Did you really just storm off set? It’s not even 10 am!”

You glared at him, ripping your arm from his hold. Narrowing your eyes, you spit out at him, “Fucking cute that of all the people to ask me that, it’s you.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!”, he breathed out harshly. “It was just a fuckin’ kiss!”

“Just a kiss? No. No, Dieter, I am not mad about a fucking kiss.” You turn around and step towards him, finger digging into his chest, forcing his retreat. “I am a professional and I can handle when you pull your bullshit, but you giving me directions on how to accept your kiss? That was you – once again! – overstepping your boundaries.”

“I – no! I was just giving you some point– “

“Pointers?!”

“I’m committed to the craft! I take rehearsals seriously!”

“No. No no no. Dieter, you are an entitled shi – what?”

The smile that crept across his face stopped you in your tracks and he leaned back, crossing his arms.

“What?”, you yelled, face pulled into a scowl and his smile opened up as he laughed.

“You liked it.”

You instantly saw red, feeling the dangerous buildup of animosity and need boil over inside you; your whole body felt 10 degrees hotter than before at his blatant and upsettingly correct assessment.  Dieter’s smile continued, seeing how you reacted to his declaration.  He took a step forward and leaned in, and said lowly before walking away, “Don’t worry, baby. I liked it, too.”

*****

You spent the rest of the day keeping as far away from Dieter as possible. Thankfully, he seemed to take the hint – or at least his assistant, production staff, and the entire crew did and kept him occupied between shots and during breaks.

Finally able to decompress in your trailer before your car would be there to pick you up, you put on your headphones and listened to a meditative app to try and de-Dieter your mind, body and spirit before moving into your weekend. In doing so, you missed the many messages from your driver telling you he was stuck in traffic. What you didn’t miss was the banging on your door.

You ripped your headphones off and pushed the door open, knowing exactly who knocked that obnoxiously.

“What, Dieter?”, you barked.

He flashed you a grin and pushed past you into your trailer. You rolled your eyes with a growl and turned to look at him.

Dieter held his hands up and gave you an apologetic and small smile. “Look, I know you’re mad at me, and I know today was – you got pistachios?” His eyes were trained on the small charcuterie board on the kitchenette counter, and he looked perplexed. “I didn’t get any pistachios.”

You scowled at him as he moved over to the counter and grabbed a handful of the little green, de-shelled nuts and shoveled it into his mouth.  “What do you want, Dieter?”

“Pish-tah-shos.”, he said muffled, mouth full and chewing. “Ma fuh-ken fa-reet.”

You jaw clenched and your mouth pursed so tightly, your lips turned white. You weren’t sure who was more infuriating: Dieter with his nut lust or you with your Dieter need.

He cleared his throat after he swallowed, and his big stupid brown eyes looked at you, wide and apologetic. “Like I was saying, I know you’re mad at me, and I know today was a lot, but I want to clear the air. I want us both to be in a good vibrationary stasis with each other so we can harmonize our chi’s.”

You tilted your head as you stared at him, confusion written on your face, not really sure what he just said to you.

“Fuck it.”, he threw his hands up, facade dropped. “I like working with you and you’re hot. Sorry I was an ass.”

The tension you didn’t realize your body was holding released, and your shoulders dropped to a neutral position. And Dieter wasn’t stupid -  he saw the relief wash over you and his mouth tugged on one side with a smirk, nodding at the double bed in the back of the trailer.

“You wanna have sex with me?”

***** 

Dieter had made you cum no less than four times with his mouth before he finally sunk into you, hips flush with one another. The long groan that left his mouth was accompanied by his eyes rolling back in his head and a dopey half-grin bloomed on his face.

If it weren’t for the delicious stretch and pressure he was creating in your own body, his euphoric state would have brought you there on its own. You urged him to move and he let out a content sigh before he looked down at you, eyes soft and hazy.

“Don’t rush me, baby. I worked hard to get here, I’m taking all the time I need to get the most of your sweet pussy.”

You squirmed and whimpered,  pathetically trying to coerce him into giving you something more than a cockwarming, and all you got in response was a deep, throaty chuckle, rumbling from the depths of his chest. 

Leaning forward, he captured your mouth with his and you tasted yourself and pistachios -  an odd combination that you never thought you’d have to decipher and put words to in your mind. Dieter pulled out, barely leaving the tip touching you, then slammed it back in, the force shoving you up the bed. And he did it again… and again… and again, setting the pace and speeding up.

He grunted,  “Taking Daddy so well -”

“No… no ‘daddy’ shit.”, you groaned back.

“Sorry… thought I’d take a chance… should’ve called it.”, he panted, “Don’t look like a Daddy’s Girl.”

“D-Dieter - just shut up.”

He smiled as his unruly curls moved and his huffing breath panting out of him in time with his thrusts. His brows then crossed in concentration as his hands dug into your hip and thigh, holding you in place as he pounded into you. Any further communication between you was wordless, conveyed with your eyes, sounds and hands pushing and pulling one another.

Your orgasm began to crash down on you, and Dieter suddenly pulled out, leaving your hole clenching on nothing and your climax fizzling out. Before you could ask ‘what the fuck?’ at his sudden removal, his own spend splooshed on your mound, hot and sticky.

“Fuck… I’m sorry.”, he panted, sitting back on his knees and wiping his face with his large palm. “You got a good pussy, baby. I just couldn’t help it and raw doggin’ is fun and all, but not chancing any little DB’s running around.”

You nodded slightly out of breath yourself. “It’s fine. I mean, you made me cum already and I-”

Your sentence was halted by Dieter lowering his face to the crux of your thighs and licking up his cum. Slack jawed and in awe, you watched him clean you up with his tongue.

When he dipped his tongue into your sensitive folds, he stopped and his eyes went wide. You felt him lick at something then he sat back, chewing on something.

“What-”

“Pistachio crumb. Must have left it behind when I was down there earlier.”

Your face skewed in amusement and disgust and Dieter just smiled.

“Waste not, want not.”, he smugly proclaimed before diving back in. 

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[snapghoul]

Wait how do Tyler and Jake apologize also I kinda feel bad for Bradly having to witness a sibling fight

Bradley is going through it, poor guy, he thought this leave was going to be chill and relaxing. Not being dragged across Oklahoma chasing storms and especially not a near family blow up. This is 100% what Kate and Bradley looked like standing in the drive:

And here’s how the twins made up ☺️

Warning: discussion of near death.

Jake’s anger flared again when he heard his twin brother Tyler’s footsteps on the wooden porch, but he refused to turn away from the expansive cornfield that stretched before him. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the field, and the stillness of the moment only amplified Jake’s fury.

“Look… Jake… I didn’t tell you because…” Tyler’s voice was strained, and he stumbled over his words. Jake remained silent, his jaw clenched as he stared at the horizon, fighting the storm of emotions inside him.

Tyler took a deep breath and stepped closer, his boots crunching on the gravel path. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you if I could help it. I wasn’t trying to keep things from you. It’s just—”

“Just what?” Jake snapped, his voice cutting through the twilight air. “You almost died, Tyler. That’s not something you just gloss over. You said you were fine, that you weren’t even close to El Reno. But I heard the truth from Kate. You should have told me.”

Tyler’s face fell, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of Jake’s anger was too much to bear. “I didn’t want to worry you. You’ve been through enough with your own deployments and—”

“Don’t you dare make this about me,” Jake interrupted, turning to face his twin, he wasn’t letting that happen again. His eyes were blazing, reflecting a mix of hurt and frustration. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you almost dying and me not knowing. You kept me in the dark.”

Tyler clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his own anger in check as Jake cut him off again. He took a deep breath, forcing his eyes to soften as he fought to stay calm.

“I didn’t want to drag you into my mess,” Tyler said, his voice measured and steady. “You deal with so much already, and I know how much you worry about everything, even if you try to cover it up.”

Jake’s anger wavered slightly as he listened, the truth in Tyler’s words seeping through his frustration. Tyler continued, “I thought if I kept this from you, I’d spare you some of that weight. I was wrong. I should have trusted you to handle it, that Ma and Dad could too. But it wasn’t about not trusting you—it was about not wanting to add to your burden.”

Jake’s expression shifted from anger to something softer, the hurt in his eyes mingling with a reluctant understanding. “Tyler, we’re supposed to share everything. If you’re in trouble, I need to know. And your problems are not a burden, never will be.”

Tyler’s shoulders relaxed as he absorbed Jake’s words, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “I guess I was so focused on protecting you that I forgot we’re in this together. I didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

Jake nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. “We face it all together, no matter how tough it gets. That’s what family’s for. You’re my twin. We handle everything as a team.”

Tyler snorted softly, and Jake cringed at his own sentiment. “God, that was cheesy.”

Tyler stepped closer, his face softening, and he reached out, pulling Jake into a hug. Jake felt the reassuring warmth of his brother’s embrace and wrapped his arms around him, holding on tightly.

“I should apologize to Rooster. I think we scared the poor guy,” Tyler said, his voice muffled against Jake’s shoulder.

Jake laughed softly. “He’s fine. Trust me, he came tracking me down afterward and talked some sense into me.”

[khrysostomos]

✨ 5, 9, 23, 37 ✨

5. lonelyverse“I’m going to take care of you, okay?” Ponyboy reassures Dallas, running his fingers through his hair. "You're just having a rut, I can help you."

Dallas groans, hating how his senses are utterly filled up with Ponyboy's scent, how soft his skin is against his own, how beautiful he looks beneath the lights. He shouldn't want him, shouldn't want this, yet every repressed feeling he's had is washing over him, telling him that Ponyboy is there, Ponyboy wants to kiss him, wants to take his knot, wants to satisfy his rut in ways that Johnny never has.

He wants to say no, should say no, and yet he doesn't push Ponyboy away.

9. trampsverse

“Don’t ask me that.” Antonio says, keeping his eyes focused on Cherry. He takes in the way she looks opposite him, the anger on her face, the disbelief. "I'm a lawyer; you and I both know that if we went toe to toe, you'd lose."

Cherry pulls herself away from the door, her eyes piercing. "No, you would. I know how your kind behave."

She sounds a lot like her father, Antonio thinks as he finishes washing his hands at the sink. The mirrors are as grimy as ever, and he keeps his mouth shut, not giving her another inch as she keeps on. "You'll grease hands anywhere you can, and you can't stand on your own if your money can't do it for you. I'm not going to just let you get away with —"

"Sweetheart, this isn't a comic book," he dismisses her, adjusting his tie, "Nor is this a movie. You can throw any accusation at me that you want; what matters at the end of the day is that you're not as smart as you thought and New York isn't Oklahoma."

23. peepshowverse

“Just pretend to be my date.”

That's what Dallas had said in New York, at the diner. That's what it was supposed to be, a simple con. Ponyboy doesn't feel it's simple as he looks around the lavish hotel suite they've gotten in Vegas. It's too fucking big, filled with too many things that could pay for his life for a year or more, too goddamn beautiful what Dallas gets him for it to be so simple.

He lies down on the bed, curling up in the fur coat, trying to just think about what they were doing, how crazy it is and he hopes to god he doesn't make a mistake here.

37. greekverse “Do you think they could have loved me?” Ponyboy asks, looking from the television set with the Browns game, and to Menelaus who was busy putting the tiropita in the oven.

It's been weeks since that visit to the deli. Most of them have moved on, haven't addressed the fact that it was Darry Curtis there, who'd recognized Ponyboy. Not beyond that one conversation with Pappo.

It feels like a good time to talk to Menelaus now, with Pappo out of the house, with the game on again and Menelaus closes the oven with a snap that told Ponyboy his mood right now: not annoyed at Ponyboy so much as he clearly was annoyed at the mention of Darry.

It occurs to him, then, that they might've met. Menelaus was about three years older than him, and it could've occurred.

He waits for Menelaus to exit the kitchen, his eldest brother looking at the television set and back to Ponyboy. "I don't know," he admits, still surely thinking about Ponyboy's description, "He was an asshole at the deli. Maybe if everything was different, sure. But someone like that, reacting to just you existing?"

He can see Menelaus trying to choose the right words like he'd done when they were younger and Ponyboy asked a difficult question about something like the arm or how Pappo was doing or their family history. How he always tried to say it in a way that wouldn't hurt and Ponyboy interrupts with, "It wouldn't be the same as you. I know it wouldn't."

[littlesunshine1223]

What are your headcanons for Scott x Javi’s ex-relationship? Like how do you think they got together, why do you think Javi got with him, what do you think happened between them getting together & them breaking up, etc.?

(A/N: I hate Scott so much, he pisses me off so much and after I watched the movie the first time I wanted to start another tumblr block just to make a hate squad for him.)

(Fair warning ahead of time…this will have a lot of Scott hate. He pisses me off more than he should and I’m just gonna keep calling him names. If you like Scott then…don’t read this I guess. Idk what to tell you.)

General Headcanons for Javi and his ex

- I headcanon that they met shortly after Javi left Oklahoma

- they met at a storm chaser convention then The Ungodly One (Scott) introduced Javi to Riggs who was trying to start a very questionable business

- after a few weeks of hanging out Javi make the first move and asked Wannabe Clark Kent (Scott) out on a date and if he wanted to date

- everything was ok until Scott started to nitpick at Javi about everything he did [if Javi made him his favorite food it was always cold or had something wrong with it, if Javi wanted to cuddle because he was cold The Bastard (Scott) would ignore him and roll over to face the other way or tell Javi to leave him alone]

- one day Javi had enough of trying to keep seeing what he had saw in The Asshole (Scott) and told Scott he wanted to breakup

- the only bad part is that they still have to see each other at work

- Scott is still salty over the breakup, that’s why he was a complete ass to everyone and yelled at Javi in the movie

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Dog Dean Afternoon: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Summary: Something was taken from you, something so precious a mother should never have to lose. Then, you found something you’ve been searching for ever since your little angel was taken from you. Is this a new beginning or a fire waiting to burn?

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

x

The war room is silent except for Zeus' breathing. He is sitting by your side with his head perched in your lap. You're mindlessly petting his head with the occasional ear scratch. He looks up at you and tries to read your expression as if he could talk to you about it. Instead, he backs off you and jumps up so his face is next to yours. He licks your cheek twice, and you come back to reality.

"Hey, baby. I'm okay," you sigh and kiss his head a couple of times.

Maryann is six months old, and that would have meant Robert would have been six months. The hole where he should have been is still open and raw, but you're trying with each passing day to make it better. You can go inside his room and sit there in silence without having a complete breakdown, but it still hurts to think about him.

He could have had a life. He was supposed to live. Amara hasn't been present in your head or in your dreams since he died. It's hard to ever think about moving on, but maybe one day you will. Maybe one day you'll think of him and smile instead of cry.

Will you ever have a son?

"Are you okay?"

You look up and see Sam standing in the doorframe between the war room and the library. Zeus gets down and takes a seat to stay by your side. He rests his head on your lap, and you go back to petting his head.

"Yeah. Just thinking about Robert. I'm okay, though," you sigh softly.

"I miss him too," he says and takes a seat next to you.

Dean comes back from the hallway where Sam's room is since he got Kevin back from yet another weekend away to himself. Kevin deserves these breaks, but he's always getting hammered. Dean gave him the perfect hangover drink to sleep off the rest of the day.

"Man, that kid is gonna kill himself," Dean groans and sits down at the table.

"He'll be fine. I got something that's gonna get us back on the road."

"Are you sure you're ready for that?" you ask carefully.

"Why would I not be ready for that?"

"Aren't you kind of running on empty?"

"Yeah, but the last three nights straight, I had eight hours of shut-eye. For a hunter, that's like twenty. Trust me, Dean. I feel good."

"Well, that's great and all, James Brown, but you're still recovering from the trials. I think you ought to pace yourself, you know? I just want you back to your old self."

"I am, Dean. Look, Kevin's back on the heaven spell. Crowley's locked up. We should be out there doing what we do best." Dean still looks unsure, but only you know why. "You want to listen at least? A taxidermist named Max Alexander was mysteriously crushed to death. Nearly every joint in his body was dislocated with every bone broken. The poor guy is a human pretzel. You tell me what's got that kind of strength."

"A demonic luchador?" he jokes.

"The shop's a couple of hours away in Enid, Oklahoma. We should at least check it out. Unless there's some reason you think we shouldn't."

"I think Zeus should come with us. We're always keeping him here. What do you say, Zeus? You want to hunt with us?" He barks once, and you've decided on it. "Go get Joanna."

He perks up and runs out of the war room to grab Joanna.

"The Impala isn't big enough for everyone," Dean sighs.

"Then I guess it's time to take that family car I saw," you grin.

Dean isn't keen on leaving the Impala behind, but he'll be fine without it for a week. Once the kids are ready, you strap them into the back seat, leaving one seat for you. Sam and Dean pile into the front, and you move the back seat forward so Zeus can hop into the third back seat. This is perfect for your ever-growing family.

Sam was right; Enid, Oklahoma is only a few hours away from the Bunker. When you get there, you see the stuffed animals in the window. You're already creeped out by it, but you try not to think about it. You take Joanna out first before unhooking Maryann. You use the stroller for her since it's easier than carrying her. Joanna holds onto the stroller with one hand and holds her doll in the other. Zeus hops out without a leash because you know he will stay by your side and come when you call.

There is a sign outside the store that says "Mounted Treasure Taxidermy. Shipping & Receiving. Ext 1967" as well as "DIE SCUM" written in red paint. The painted "M" is a symbol of a dog's paw print in an inverted triangle. Sam thinks this is interesting enough to snap a photo of it, and then you three head inside.

"Well, the creep factor just skyrocketed," Dean mutters.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the sheriff of this town holds up his hands to stop you.

"How are you? We're agents Michaels, Deville, and Rockett," Sam says, and all three of you flash your badges.

"This is no place for children," he says and looks at your little ones.

"And this is no place for your opinion," you say coldly. "Why don't you get on with the damn case?"

"The body's already been to the morgue," he sighs. "We're just wrapping it up with Dave Stephens. He's the one who discovered the body. It's such a shame. I used to go hunting with Max. He was a really good egg."

"We're sorry for your loss," Sam clears his throat.

"Do you mind showing my partner around? We just got a couple of questions for Mr. Stephens."

"Okay. Come on."

The Sheriff takes Sam off to the side, leaving you and Dean alone.

"That was hot, by the way," Dean whispers to you as he passes by you. All you can do is smirk and follow him. "Dave Stephens?"

"I just have a couple of questions for you if that's alright."

"I'll tell you whatever you need to know. Max was a real pal," Dave sighs sadly.

"Was he a hunting buddy?"

Zeus sniffs the ground and wanders off, but you call his name once. He immediately walks back to your side and sits down knowing he needs to be here next to you.

"Yeah, he was."

"What time did you discover the body?"

"About 9 am which is my usual pickup time. I come in every Wednesday and Sunday to collect the animal organs after Max would dig them out and worked his magic. He was a real artist, you know? Strange thing is, though, the bins were empty this morning."

"Why is that strange?" you ask.

"Well, because it's Sunday. Weekend hunts are pretty much a given in this neck of the woods, so they're usually chock-full of guts."

"Right. Is there any chance Max could have cleaned them out himself?"

"No, it's a biohazard. You can't just throw the stuff out. You have to burn it."

"Is there anything else missing from the shop?" Dean asks the Sheriff once he comes back with Sam.

"No. The register was full and the safe was intact. All of Max's trophies were still on the walls."

"Was there anyone else here when you showed up?" you ask Dave.

"No one besides The Colonel."

Right behind you is a German Shepherd who is getting a leash hooked onto his collar. He must have been Max's companion, and now that Max is dead, the dog is being taken to the shelter.

"Thank you. Excuse us." You three walk away from the two men just as the Colonel was being taken out to the car. "Okay, so we got a thief who's jonesing for animal parts, we got a pagan symbol, and we got a human pretzel."

"It sounds very witchy, but I wasn't able to find a hex bag."

"Alright, let's keep digging, but not here. I don't like the way that one's looking at me," Dean whispers as he stares at a taxidermied owl.

It's not hard to get a motel room around these parts, and as soon as you pay for it, Dean and Sam set up shop. Sam takes out his laptop, Dean takes out some books he grabbed from the library, and you set up some of Joanna's new toys she got for her birthday. Maryann crawls over to Joanna and touches her toys, but she doesn't seem to mind. Zeus lays next to the girls just watching them play.

"Okay, that symbol in the graffiti isn't Wiccan. It's copywritten from a local animal-rights group which is Enid's answer to PETA."

Sam turns the laptop to show you their PETA slogan, which is S.N.A.R.T: Showing No Animal Rough Treatment.

"You gotta be kidding me," Dean rolls his eyes.

"It makes sense that an animal-rights group would have an axe to grind with a taxidermist," you shrug.

"Why? The animal's already dead.

"True, but hunters are what keep them in business. Now the question is, are those bleeding hearts actually witches or just hippies?"

"What's the difference?"

"They advocate for a vegan bakery that's in town. Two of the members own that place."

"Nothing is worse than a vegan," you groan. "All they do is try and push their lifestyle onto non-vegans. Like damn, let me eat my meat in peace."

You get the car packed up with everyone before heading over to the vegan bakery. Since they are members of a wannabe PETA organization, they are more than okay with you bringing in Zeus. This time, you do have a leash to keep the peace.

"I always knew I'd find the source of all evil at a vegan bakery," Dean shudders. "What's that smell?" Dean looks at the menu and grimaces. "Patchouli mixed with depression from meat deprivation." There are two workers behind the counter serving and making drinks, but they have sunglasses on. "You know who wears sunglasses inside? Blind people, and douchebags."

You three walk to the counter, and as soon they notice your dog, the woman smiles in glee. Well, that answers the blind question.

"You have a beautiful dog. Would he like a vegan pup cup? They're very delicious."

Like hell you're putting Zeus through that. He has a steady diet of raw meats and flavorful supplements to keep him healthy.

"No, thank you. I appreciate it, though."

"Are you two Olivia and Dylan Camrose?" Dean asks.

"At your service," Olivia gleams.

"Are you two members of S.N.A.R.T.?"

"Founders and co-presidents, actually. Uh, can we interest you in some literature?"

Olivia holds up a S.N.A.R.T brochure, but Sam shakes his head politely.

"Or maybe a flaxseed scone? It's wheat-free, gluten-free, sugar-free, and surprisingly moist."

"Let me stop you right there," Dean takes out his badge to show them. "We're here to investigate the death of Max Alexander, a local taxidermist."

"He's dead?" Dylan gasps.

"Did you know him?"

"Kind of. This is a small town."

"Well, he was murdered last night, and a S.N.A.R.T. logo was found at the crime scene. You two wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Olivia and Dylan look at each other, and you know they know something about what's going on. They have one of their employees take over at the counter so they can talk to you off to the side. You follow them to an empty table, and they start to spill immediately.

"His business is funded by hunters, and you know how hunters are. They're selfish dicks who define themselves by what they kill." You can't help but let out a small snicker, but Dean gently kicks you under the table. "As animal advocates, we couldn't stand for that."

"So, you killed him?"

"Of course not. S.N.A.R.T. doesn't tolerate violence."

"This coming from a couple who spray-paints death threats."

"It was a scare tactic. We just wanted to spook him," Dylan defends himself. "Turns out we were the ones who got spooked."

"What does that mean?" you ask.

"Well, last night, when we were tagging the joint, we heard this noise. A hissing noise. It freaked us out, so we ran out into the alley."

"Someone attacked us," Olivia sighs, "and sprayed us in the eyes with mace."

Both of them take off their sunglasses to show their irritated and red eyes. They look so guilty for what they did, and you know Dean feels bad for calling them douchebags.

"It's not like we could go to the cops, and now we look like total douchebags because we have to wear our sunglasses inside."

"Thank you for your time. I hope you feel better."

There is nothing more Olivia and Dylan can give you, so you head back to the motel room. It's time for your kids' naps anyway.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[blookmallow]

my new vegas courier has become so special to me honestly

heres things ive decided about her. some of them. i have a WHOLE backstory/ongoing storyline but heres some of it

has some memory loss from the gunshot injury. probably has a few screws loose in general

im thinking she's originally from oklahoma (and sounds like it) if there's no. fallout lore reason she couldn't be but ive never heard anything about what post-war oklahoma is like

chainsmoker. drinks a lot but can handle it. bit of a mentats habit. she isn't Blatantly reckless, but doesn't really care much about her health either. once you've survived a shot in the head nothing really seems like that big of a risk anymore

general attitude of Anything Goes - whatever situations she finds herself in, she'll find herself out of, one way or another

has a very uncanny ability to solve problems by just asking nicely. she isn't particularly charming or witty - just very unsettlingly calm. something about her catches people off guard. she doesn't have anything to prove to anyone and has a reputation for being extremely difficult to kill. "pride's damn easy to swallow when y'keep it in a small enough pill"

nuka cola girl is her dream girl

isn't really on anyone's Side so much as just frequently shows up to defuse conflict. thinks the world would be a whole lot nicer if everyone stopped shooting at each other so much. works pretty closely with the NCR, but doesn't always agree with their politics. thinks they should be doing more with their resources than they are

fucking hates the legion so goddamn much. suffered some pretty bad trauma after the benny incident at the camp (i went for the machete duel bc i felt like 'if we have to do this im going to make it a fair fight this time' was the most in line with her character) after seeing how the slaves were living, having all those eyes on her and the brutality of the fight

big big soft spot for the king but she wont admit to it. can't bear to disappoint him and couldn't tell you why

started collecting pool balls at some point and it sort of developed into a compulsion and now she can't stop. mild kleptomania tendencies in general. likes odd and interesting objects

never goes anywhere without ed-e

frequently just jumps off railings/balconies because stairs take too long. this absolutely drives arcade up the wall and he hates trying to keep up with her

gives sarsaparilla stars to everyone she travels with and is weirdly insistent on them wearing it. she brought one for primm slim too. he loves it

[the-firebird69]

Yeah I see this a little bit the first place would be Augustine which is more towards the middle of Florida I think on the East Coast and they'd want to try and take over from the sea then move me up to the panhandle and some people here who keep losing and they'd have Jason do it and it's very mean I don't think it's going to happen at all

Zues Hera

Oh that makes sense to bring people in and take over and the two steps make sense and he's grabbed in Texas so they said I don't think so Oklahoma and that would make sense and blaming you for all the stuff they did so I have to do some research

Jason

You still going to try a stupid stuff and what you say is there's a whole bunch of them trying that and their pirates and they don't think much of the government even though the government came by and told them what to do last time but that's what they're going to do so I understand that and I see it and see what you're saying it's going to suck

Stan

My son's in a terrible situation but he wants to feel better right now we're telling him that he's gone through another cycle of the radiation and he's going through another one coming up shortly that would make it four for today out of five he should be down to probably about 4.3 by 7:00 p.m. it's going to be exposed again by tomorrow morning it'll probably be at around 3.9%, it starts over me anticipated that during the dropping of the Charlotte county Park the first one that he would come to like 1% at 3.9% in the beginning of the day he'll be at the end of the day he'll be in about 3.7% and it will start by Thursday morning he'll be at about 0.5% if he stays in tomorrow which we doubt he will it's too hard for him to stay in.

Thor Freya

Olympus

He has a different decent diet he's drinking orange juice eating olives uses olive oil and drinks at the blueberry juice everyday he has some beans he needs more beans in his diet so I'm suggesting Mexican he thinks that's a great idea

Hera

[wiltingredroses]

Venomous: An Extreme Horror Novella Chapter 4: Daugherty Farm: Part 1

This chapter got too long so I had to split it in two. This is actually Chapter 4: Part: 1. The adult adventures of Maeve and Evelyn will continue in Chapter 5. Until then, enjoy this wholesome detour where everything is fine and nothing bad happens at all!

Evelyn and I stand outside of a convenience store, counting what little cash we have left. We have gone almost three days without eating at this point, forgoing food in favor of filling up the truck. We had befriended a group of people back in Minneapolis, one of whom told us about an uncle that lived on a farm in Oklahoma. He said that he'd be happy to let us stay, and even pay us to work for him. Being in pretty desperate need of money, we eagerly accepted the offer. The money Shane gave us lasted us about three months due to my aggressive budgeting. We pulled the lost girls con many times, which worked more often than not. Evelyn was good at finding a couch to sleep on whenever that failed. Worst case scenario, we could always find a cheap motel somewhere. Now, we've found ourselves with five dollars to our name, which we can't afford to spend on anything but gas.

We have become desperate. The hunger pangs are so intense we can't sleep anymore. We need something, anything, to keep us going until we get to Oklahoma. We've done our best to refrain from committing crimes thus far, if only to prevent an encounter with the police. It looks like that is about to change.

“Okay, you distract the clerk. I'll grab what I can.” She says. That's all there is to it. Nothing too complicated. She won't need long, anyway. All I have to do is give her a minute or two.

“Alright, let's do this.” I say. The bell above the door dings as we step inside. Evelyn hurries into a nearby isle before the clerk can spot her. The apathetic long-haired boy lifts his head just as she disappears from view, before his attention drifts back to the comic book in front of him. I smile my friendliest smile as I walk up to the counter. It's just him, as far as I can tell. No other customers either. This should be easy.

“Hello!” I greet the bored-looking clerk behind the counter. He looks up, disinterested.

“Hi. Can I help you?” He asks with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

“Oh, well, I'm a little bit lost. I was wondering if you could give me directions?” I ask.

“Don't you mean “we're a little bit lost”?” He asks.

“I'm not sure what you-”

“The girl that came in with you, that's your friend right?”

“I'm not sure-”

“The girl currently stuffing potato chips into her backpack? That ring a bell?” He asks. I panic, immediately trying to think of an exit strategy. How did he even notice? He barely spared us a glance when we walked in.

“Lucky guess.” He says, noticing the panic in my eyes.

“Look, I don't care. They don't pay me enough to. You two are homeless, right?” He continues.

I nod.

“Take whatever you want. I'm not a nark.” He says and returns to his comic once again.

“Really?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yeah. Really.”

I look up at the surveillance camera on the ceiling. Even if he doesn't stop us, we'll still be caught.

“Doesn't work. Don't worry about it.”

I stare at him for a few more moments before turning and beginning to search for Evelyn. I find her towards the back, stuffing granola bars into a backpack. She looks up as I approach.

“What are you doing? You're supposed to be distracting the clerk!”

“He knows what we're doing. He doesn't care.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Well, shit, help me out then!”

Quickly, we fill our bag as much as we can. I keep glancing at the guy behind the counter, just to be sure he doesn't call the police while we're not looking. He doesn't move the entire time, except to flip a page. As soon as we have taken as much stuff as we can carry, we hurry out the front door. I climb into the passenger's seat with our stolen goods and Evelyn peels out of the parking lot. Regardless of what the clerk said, we aren't going to stick around to get caught.

We drive for a while before pulling into an empty field. Seeing as this is going to be where we are staying for the night, we do our best to make the bed of the truck comfortable. Thankfully we have a few pillows and blankets with us to help. Once we have semi-successfully cushioned the truck bed, we empty out our bag to see what we made off with. There wasn't a whole lot of logic when it came to what we took. We were just blindly grabbing and stuffing whatever looked passable into the bag. Thankfully, we have plenty to get us to Oklahoma without having to ration it out.

We immediately begin stuffing our faces. I'm halfway through my second candy bar when Evelyn stops me.

“Slow down, bunny. You're going to make yourself sick.” She pulls a bag of trail mix out of the pile and hands it to me.

“Eat this. You need something with actual nutrition.” She says before returning to her protein bar.

Once our stomachs are satisfied, we try to get comfortable. I lay next to Evelyn underneath a blanket, but I can't seem to relax.

“What's wrong?” She asks.

“I feel exposed being in a wide open space like this. What if someone finds us? We're probably trespassing.”

“Then you sleep and I'll keep watch. We'll take shifts, okay?” She says. I would feel guilty having her take the first shift. She's probably far more tired than me, seeing as I'm not the one driving.

“You sleep first.” I say.

“Yeah, and have you fall asleep on me? I don't think so. Shut up and sleep.” She says, tossing a pillow at my face. I don't bother to argue further. Once she's made up her mind, there's no convincing her otherwise.

-

I don't know how long I manage to sleep before I am awoken by raindrops falling onto my face. I look over to see Evelyn hastily packing up our stuff.

“Of course.” I mutter under my breath.

“Looks like we're spending the night inside the truck.” Evelyn says.

Together, we gather our stuff and cover it with a tarp to protect it from the rain. By the time we climb back into the truck, we are dripping wet and freezing. We try to get some sleep, unconcerned with being confronted by any strangers now that we are safely locked inside. Neither of us manage to sleep for very long considering the uncomfortable position we found ourselves in. With the promise of a roof over our heads waiting for us in Oklahoma, we waste no time getting back on the road first thing in the morning.

-

It takes us another two days to reach our destination. We get very little sleep as the rain seems to follow us, forcing us to sleep in the cramped conditions of Evelyn's truck. When we finally drive up the dirt driveway to the farmhouse we are exhausted and filthy.

We spot a man on the front porch of the house. I can only assume this is the uncle we have been told about. He is younger than I expected. I doubt he is any older than forty. As we climb out of the truck, I become instantly aware of the fact that we haven't showered in about two weeks and our clothes haven't been washed in three. God only knows what is running through that man's head as we approach the house.

“Can I help you girls?” He calls out to us. I decide to take the lead for once, as Evelyn doesn't always leave a good impression on this type.

“Hello! We met your nephew about a week ago. He said you would be expecting us?” I say as we walk up the front steps. Recognition falls over his face almost immediately.

“Why, you must be Maeve and Evelyn! I was starting to think you were a couple of no-shows!” He says, practically jumping to his feet in excitement. He hurries over to us, grabbing my hands and shaking them enthusiastically before doing the same to Evelyn.

“Come in, come in!” He says as he pushes us into the house. The inside is about what I expected. The décor seems to have been pulled straight out of the 1940's, which tells me that he probably inherited it from an elderly relative. I don't see anything resembling modern technology other than an ancient radio perched on a side table. The air is musty and stale like the room had sat empty for a decade before we arrived. Despite this, the room is remarkably clean. While a bit cluttered with relics of the past, I don't see a speck of dust of dirt. You would expect a farmer's home to be a little dirty. I would assume it is simply an unavoidable result of the profession.

“As excited as I am to give you the full tour, I think you girls are in desperate need of a bath and a meal first.” He says. We glance at each other briefly. Our faces are dirty and our hair is slick with grease while our clothes are stained and torn. I'm sure that our combined stench is overwhelmingly foul, but we've long grown blind to it. We've found that people are increasingly unkind the more homeless you appear. So many people were happy to help us when we were well-kept and nicely dressed, but that help soon dried up when it became obvious that we were not prim and proper girls that just happened to take a wrong turn somewhere.

“That would be appreciated, thank you.”

-

The man shows us to our room where we drop off our meager belongings. We learn that his name is Wayne Daugherty, and that he inherited this farm from his great aunt and uncle about a decade ago. After we properly introduce ourselves, he hands us each a stack of clothes and points me towards the bathroom just down the hall. He then goes to show Evelyn the second bathroom upstairs, leaving me by myself.

I enter the bathroom and set the clothes down on a nearby stool. Much like the rest of the house, the bathroom features are quite old and outdated. There's no shower, just a slightly elevated clawfoot bathtub in the middle of the room. I let the water run while I get undressed, inspecting my clothes as I do so. It used to be my favorite dress, having been a Christmas gift from my aunt. The once mint green dress had turned brownish after not being washed for as long as it had. It was covered in rips and tears and missing a button or two. I clutched it for a moment, sighed, and tossed it into the waste bin.

I test the water before stepping into the tub. It feels weird to be taking an actual bath for the first time since leaving home. Evelyn and I have become used to doing things as quickly as possible, never slowing down long enough to do something as simple as having a bath. These days it's mostly truck stop showers and skinny dipping in rivers. Every once in awhile Evelyn and I can sweet talk some horny guy into using his shower before leaving him high and dry. The hot water is comforting, like an all-consuming hug. The aches and pains from weeks of poor sleeping conditions are relieved almost instantly.

I scrub down every inch of my body, not leaving a single crevice untouched. I wash my hair with probably three times the amount of shampoo required, watching as the water turns a disturbing brownish color as I do so. Suddenly disgusted by the realization that I am sitting in my own filth, I rinse myself off and get out of the tub.

I grab a towel from a nearby shelf and press my face into it for a moment. It's a pure, clean white color and doesn't smell like mildew. I bet this guy actually washes them more than once every three months. I dry myself off and start going through the pile of clothes. They consist of a yellow short-sleeve t-shirt and denim overall shorts. They certainly aren't my style, but they are my size weirdly enough. I get dressed and look at myself in the full length mirror in the corner of the bathroom. I can't help but wonder why he just had this stuff sitting around. In the moment though, I can't find it in me to care all that much. I'm just content to not look a Victorian street urchin anymore.

I leave the bathroom and return to the room we'll be staying in to find Evelyn is sitting on the bed, waiting for me. I almost don't recognize her dressed in bell-bottom denim jeans and flannel.

“How goes it, cowgirl?” She asks with a smirk. I laugh. We barely resemble ourselves dressed the way we are.

“You're missing a vital part of the look, though. C'mere.” She says, gesturing to the spot on the floor in front of her. I have many questions, but in lieu of asking them, I give into her request without a fight. I sit on the ground, my head resting between her knees. She grabs strands of my hair and begins braiding it.

“How do you even know how to do that?” I ask.

“I was in just as many braiding circles in scouts as you were. Now sit still.” She replies.

Eventually, she decides that she is done and allows me to stand up. I walk to the mirror and admire her look. She had tied my hair in a loose braid that hung over my shoulder, fully completing the farmer girl look. Honestly, it kind of works.

“You like it?” Evelyn asks, draping herself over my shoulder.

“I love it.” I reply. She leans in for a kiss and I happily accept. A knock at the door startles us and she jumps back.

“Dinner's ready, girls! Come down to the dining room when you're ready.” Mr. Daugherty calls through the door. We look at each other. We are absolutely desperate for actual food. I don't know how good this guy's cooking skills are, but I'll take unseasoned potatoes and tough overcooked meat over another convenience store snack. If I eat another potato chip I might actually die on the spot.

We eagerly head downstairs to the dining room to find Mr. Daugherty seated at the table. He gestures for us to sit and we do so. Noises in the kitchen imply there is another person living in the house. Just a few moments later, a girl emerges from the kitchen, carry a tray. She looks to be around our age, if maybe a year or two older. She's a tall, skinny girl in a simple blue cotton dress underneath an apron. For a moment I think I've found an answer as to why Mr. Daugherty has girl's clothing on hand, but I quickly realize that we are not the same size at all. She does not make eye contact with us, simply looking forward with a vacant stare.

“Evelyn, Maeve, this is my daughter Mabel.” He says, introducing us.

“Hello!” I say with a wave. Endearing ourselves to the homeowner's daughter is probably the smart move if we wish to stay longer than a few days. I don't know about Evelyn, but I'm not particularly eager to hop back into the truck after the last few weeks we've had.

Mabel does not respond, however. She simply places the tray onto the table and begins handing out our portions. Her gaze is unwavering and for a second I wonder if she can hear or see us at all.

“You'll have to excuse my daughter. She's been a mute since birth.” He says dismissively. After everyone has been served, she grabs the tray and retreats back into the kitchen before returning a few moments later. As much as I want to dive into the bowl of stew and devour it like a feral dog, I manage to restrain myself out of politeness. Evelyn does too, but only because I shoot her a look. Once everyone is at the table, Mr. Daugherty says grace while Evelyn and I pretend to go along with it, sitting awkwardly in silence while shooting each other uncomfortable glances. I sneak a peak at Mabel once, only to catch her piercing eyes staring back at me, forcibly diverting my attention back down to my hands.

Finally, after what seems like forever, we are allowed to eat. I try to maintain an air of courtesy and grace, but the second the taste of food hits my tongue I begin shoveling it down like I'll never eat again. I can't help but feel slightly embarrassed at how quickly I manage to wolf it down. This is somewhat alleviated when I glance at Evelyn to find she had finished long before I had.

“Well that's about the highest compliment you can give a cook, isn't it, Mabel?” He says. Mabel looks at him and nods, acknowledging that she was spoken to for the first time since we've met her.

With my hunger now sated, I decide it's probably a good idea to start asking questions about this strange man and his farm. Inviting teenagers that you've never met to come stay at your farm several states away is a bit... suspect... to say the least.

“So, have you had guests like us before?” I ask, trying to hide my skepticism.

“Oh, many times! I help young people like yourselves whenever I get the chance. If you take a look at the pictures on the walls, you'll see my many, many success stories.” He explains.

“Success stories?” Evelyn asks.

“The ones that are able to get their act together and learn skills that will help them get out the situation they've found themselves in. I don't turn anyone away; whether they be addicts, unwed mothers, prostitutes, runaways, or some combination of the four. Hell, I adopted Mabel as my own so that her mother could get a college education without having a child to worry about.” He says. I find it odd that he talks so openly about the circumstances of Mabel's adoption in front of her, to complete strangers nonetheless, but she doesn't seem to care.

“What about the not-so-successful ones?” I ask, curiously.

“Usually they just up and leave in the middle of the night. As much as it pains me, sometimes I have to ask them to leave if I feel they're making a negative impact on the others.” He says.

“But I never get discouraged! No matter how many refuse my helping hand and go back to their old ways. That's why everyone I know has my permission to send me any strays that cross their path.” Mr. Daugherty says with pride in his voice.

“Sorry to change the subject, but exactly is it that we'll be doing here?” Evelyn asks.

“Oh, just helping me out around the farm. Nothing two strong-willed girls can't handle. Maeve, you seem like the more domestic one out of the two of you, so you'll mostly be inside helping Mabel out around the house. Evelyn, you'll be working outside with me. Does that sound okay to you? If not, you can just stay here for the night and be on your way tomorrow, but I won't have any freeloaders just laying about.” He says.

Evelyn and I look at each other. We don't really need to discuss it. At this point we'll do just about anything to have a bed for the night. When we get bored of it, we'll leave, just like we always do.

“Yes, of course. Whatever you need from us.” I respond.

“Wonderful, just wonderful! Now, you two seem like you're in great need of a rest, so you two can sleep in tomorrow and we won't get started until the day after.”

Evelyn and I exchange glances once again. A real bed, in a real house, that's clean and pest free, plus free food and a salary? We really owe that guy back in Minneapolis big time. Come to think of it, I should really give him a call tomorrow to thank him.

This could be good for us, being able to live normal lives again, even if just for a little while, before we move on to our next adventure.

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

A Sneak Peak

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, continuing on towards the store and finally reaching the door.

“What a pack of idiots,” Danny mumbles, shaking his head and adjusting the hat sitting backwards on his head, hardly containing his messy bun of curls.

You part ways with him and make your way towards the back, the glass doors protecting the beloved soda you’re after, just a few steps away.

Reaching for the handle, you yank it open and grab the Strawberry Dr.Pepper from the shelf, hardly paying any attention to the presence in front of you - assuming it was just Danny.

You close the door and turn to walk towards the counter, nearly colliding with the person standing by you.

Freezing in place, as to not slam into him, you realize it’s one of the boys from the truck. The one from the passenger seat, to be exact.

“My apologies, ma’am,” he smiles, tipping his hat to you ever so slightly. “Didn’t mean for my brother to, uhh… almost make you a little hood ornament.” He chuckles softly, clearly trying to be light-hearted.

And oh, how that sound is like music to your ears. There’s a subtle drawl to his voice, but not much. You can tell he’s likely not from the part of Oklahoma that you’re from.

“No worries,” you respond, giving him a tight-lipped smile, moving to step around him with not another word.

You can’t see, but he watches you walk away from over his shoulder; struck by not only your beauty, but also your disinterest.

Making your way back to the counter, Danny is already there, coincidentally standing behind the guy who almost smushed you into the concrete.

“I should hit him upside his head,” Danny turns to you and mutters quietly. “If he wants to be reckless, I can show him reckless.”

“Danny, quit,” you beg him, placing a hand up on his shoulder. “He’s not even worth it.”

“Hell, he ain’t…” Danny rolls his eyes, but concedes anyway and keeps his temper in check.

Another guy joins him at the counter, his voice loud and bubbly. “We got a great storm coming up front the Southwest, I think she’s gonna give us a good one!”

Of course.

“They’re chasers?!” You ask in an exasperated whisper. “You’re fucking joking.”

You feel a presence behind you and soon, that same, raspy voice that had apologized to you just a minute or so ago, is speaking up as he walks up to the counter.

“Sam, put this lovely girl and her little friends things with ours.” He instructs and turns around to look at you, motioning towards the counter with a subtle flick of his head and a pointed finger.

Sam turns around as well, eyes looking you up and down one quick and not so slick time. He steps out of the way, giving you room to step up to the counter as well.

Danny stops you in your tracks with an outstretched arm. “We can take care of-“

“No, no…let them make up for almost making me a…hood ornament.” You cut Danny off, stepping out from out his arm.

You let them pay for your things, Danny eventually adding his items into the pile rather reluctantly.

“Thanks,” you nod curtly towards the boys, two looking strikingly like twins, but all of them definitely had to be brothers.

“Not a problem.” Once again, his tan cowboy hat is being tipped in your direction.

You ignore the undeniable butterflies it gives you and turn to follow Danny back out the door and towards your truck.

“Flattery is the new apology now, so it appears,” Danny says, a short, humorless laugh floating out of him. “I mean, really. Who’s raising these cowboys?”

Coming soon to a Tumblr dash near you…

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 228

Angel Heart

“Angel Heart”

Plot Description: Castiel and the brothers try to help Claire Novak find her missing mother in Oklahoma but discover a troubling connection

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I wouldn’t want to…I’m dealing with enough of my own vivid dreams that cause emotional pain when I wake up. I don’t need hers too

Does a djin have her?? But it’s even worse because she just keeps waking up and going back to the beginning of the dream

Poor Claire 😭😭

Oh, she’s soooooooooo thrilled to see Dean there 🙃

Eventually Cas probably should let go of Claire and the responsibility he feels towards her. I get that she definitely needs SOMEONE looking out for her and while her mom’s MIA and Cas is now fully inhabiting the to scale replica of Jimmy Novak’s body, it’s good that she can have him, but Dean’s right. He is a CONSTANT reminder of someone she’s lost

I’m not sure that the way Sam is speaking to Claire is 100% appropriate for how near stranger in his 30s should speak to a teenage girl but…but they know each other just enough that when she sasses him, he’s gonna shut that down. He asked if she did all this looking for clues and traveling on her own (mostly hitchhiking) and whatnot just to tell off her mom. And when she sarcastically asked him if he always got along with his mom, he flat out told her that he never got the chance because she died when he was a baby

But he genuinely wants to help her do the work to find her mom. Cas and Dean want to find Amelia for her, Sam wants her to have the skills to do it herself

Ok…probably not a djin. But what IS this supposed faith healer?

It’s Claire’s birthday?? And Cas got her a Grumpy Cat plush from”the Hot Topical.” He’s so awkward and sweet 😭😭 (also I have that plush)

Dean’s gotta babysit Claire lmaooooooo

Man, now I’M conflicted. Sam says he shouldn’t leave Claire alone when this is done because she’s family…sort of. And she just shouldn’t be alone

Every moment of Dean and Claire is chef kiss. They HATE each other but are forced to spend time together…and are, for some reason, playing miniature golf now

So wait…if we’re dealing with another rogue angel on Earth…but potentially a high ranking one, who is it? (I’m just figuring that an angel SWORD would be given to higher ranking angels instead of an angel BLADE)

Dean, are you…you really are going to give that freshly 18 year old girl a GUN

It’s kind of amazing what differences in make up can do to a person. They did a really good job with the differences between dream Amelia and Amelia in reality……..hey, why are there so many characters named Amy or Amelia in this show??

So tell me how these angels started feeding on human souls though. They were watcher angels, put on Earth to protect humanity…I’m just saying Aziraphale would NEVER.

It’s not your fault, Amelia. You came here for help. You came to piece your family back together, and you were deceived.

No. Nooooooo, she didn’t deserve that. And Claire needed her!!!

How come Jimmy and Amelia get to be in heaven together but everyone else seemingly have their own separate heavens?? Why wasn’t Bobby reunited with his wife in heaven?? That episode wasn’t even that long ago!!

Honestly, leaving her with Jody is probably a good idea. I bet she and Alex could definitely get along

She kept the Grumpy Caaaaaaaaaat 😭😭😭 from the Hot Topical 😭😭😭😭😭

I’m glad she sees them all in a different light now

[bl6ckr0s3]

Time To Move

I had my first therapy session with Ivy Jeffries last weekend which felt refreshing and a relief. I got to tell her a little bit about myself and why I am there. There's a good chance that she may end up ending her contract with the current insurance that my job is working with that pays for my therapy sessions. Sadly, they are only paying for 6 sessions for free, and if I continue to seek therapy after that, then I would require health insurance that would cover it. I may not have to use therapy beyond the 6 sessions since my anxiety has not been as bad. I mention to Ivy that I only get anxiety really bad when my son's father starts fights with me for no good reason which triggers it because of the abuse I have tolerated with him for a long time. On top of all the shit I have tolerated in my past relationships and the less affectionate and somewhat of a verbal abuse from my father since I was a kid, it has sort of taken a toll on me mentally which is another reason why I am seeking therapy. I told her that I am not really there for a real resolution, just that I needed it to be on the record that I am seeking help and that I needed a professional to be there to listen to my stories to show that I am not alone fighting my life battles, just wanted to be on the record for court purposes as well so that they take me seriously when I really did go through a lot of shit with my son's father in the past.

Looks like the time of staying at the Extended Stay America is up. Josh has not worked for a few days the way he should be to help out with our rent, so therefore we ended up being behind again. As the rent bill has gone up and we were lucky enough to receive help from his good friend Bobby who has saved us many times, with him feeling bad and that he promised to work hard the way he should so that we can get out of our hole. Rather than to spend more money trying to catch up on our rent here, and talking about how we wanted to decide to move to a town that we have became fond of, we decided to make the move there as in the future we may plan on getting a permanent home around that region someday we are able to. The town is not overcrowded like Nashville sort of is, and is not bad with the cost of living. Their cost of living is pretty affordable as I have searched around through several apartment complexes and it's nice to see that maybe someday I might be able to help afford to buy us a house once I pay off my TSP retirement loan. We might have a good chance of being able to buy a home in 2-3 years depending on where we are at by then. To keep it private, we do plan on leaving this hotel since the manager has been getting on us every week as we been sort of late. We been fortunate that they literally haven't locked us out of our room or just kicked us out to the streets, it's better this way that we leave elsewhere and start over again. I told Joshua that even if I have to get a 2nd part time job to get us by temporarily, I will if I truly have to even though I really don't want to.

I have plans and I been really dwelling on this thought for awhile. Many employees has told me that I should get into maintenance. I was fortunate enough to get a 955 exam booklet from a clerk that works on the automation machines by my tray line. She said that somebody she knew emailed it to her a few years back, but she definitely wasn't interested in it. I was telling her about it and she helped me out majorly so now I have something I can read and study from before I can plan on taking the exam one day. The female maintenance worker from tour 2 told me that they have made the test so easy now that even dumb people can pass the test. Well, if that's the case there's no reason why I can't pass this test, right? If I can get through the exam and interview, I will have to go to their 2 week training program in Oklahoma. If I can get a job in maintenance, I can start off being paid as a level 7. Even if I can just get paid just to vacuum one of the machines, that's easy money. There is 0 drama with the maintenance dept. All these years of working with my company, it seems like maintenance don't have to worry about dealing with any drama. At the same time, I'll be able to continuously learn how to fix something and I can apply this knowledge to my personal life where it will give me the ability to fix things in my own house if I need to. I have a slight mechanical background in the automotive industry so I should fit right in. The sad thing is going through the process from a different craft will take awhile because they have to go through the seniority list of custodians first. They are only paid level 3, so there is no way I am downgrading that low to try to get into maintenance.

I have an opportunity to shoot a popular band member's wedding. During the day when Joshua was recording vocals for 'The Dying', he mentioned to us about a friend who is looking for a photographer to shoot his wedding. He told him that he's pretty much burnt out doing weddings every weekend and he would've charged at least $2k and his friend didn't realize that he charges that much for the work and the amount of time spent to edit the photos. I don't really charge that much for editing, but I would love to do it for $460 considering it will definitely be an all day job. I am giving them a good deal if they give me this opportunity to shoot. At the same time, if they don't pick me to do their shoot, I would completely understand as I am not sure if I am ready to shoot a big wedding even though I have only done one a couple of years ago. I have to put some links together and send it to Jeremiah's way to forward to his friend to check out my work. I been too busy since then to send him anything yet. This is my chance to get more practice of my work, but we shall see what happens.

I have paid almost $4k off from the $15k loan I borrowed from my retirement that was used to get into an apartment in North Hollywood. Once it is paid off, I want to take out $20k to see if it can help us buy a small house for us in the future. We deserve this...

[modelbus]

hi! this is my first time requesting so i’m sorry if this is confusing — but i was wondering if i could request a (romantic) dream x female or gn reader and dream ‘catches’ the reader wearing his knit cat hat and dream just melts and becomes really fluffy and cuddly <3

His knit cat hat is adorable and I want one

Pairing: CC!Dream x Gn!Reader

His Hat

Really, you don't even think about it until it's too late. His hat was there, you were going outside into the cold, and you just grabbed it. By the time you realize what hat it was, you're already outside. And it's just so goddamn cozy.

So, you keep it on. Just for the quick trip to the store then back. It wasn't like he'd ever find out, right? And besides, if he did catch you wearing his hat, he'd probably just tell you to get your own. Maybe ban you from taking his stuff again, but nothing extreme. As you slip off your shoes in the entryway you completely forget that you're wearing his hat. It's one of those cozy hats, light on your head. It's also slightly too big, but that just adds to the appeal.

You head into the kitchen, depositing the microwave popcorn you bought into a cabinet. Movie night was serious business and you had been tasked with snack duty for this one. Among your haul were peanut M&M's, sour gummy worms, and skittles. Only the best candies for your movie nights.

"What'd you get?" Dream asks, making you jump. You hadn't even heard him approach!

"Snacks for movie night." You answer, turning around to find him in the doorway.

He's looking slightly above you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion before realizing you forgot to take off his hat. Shit. You knew he wouldn't be mad but getting banned from taking his clothes wasn't on your agenda for the day.

"You're wearing my cat hat." He points out.

"Sorry." You laugh nervously, taking it off and setting it on the counter. Your hair’s probably a mess because of it. "It was the first hat I grabbed."

"Don't be sorry." He immediately says, crossing the kitchen to you. "You look good in it."

Your cheeks immediately flush as he grabs the hat and situates it on your head. He's overly careful not to push it into your eyes or mess up your hair, bringing a sort of sweetness to the moment. His eyes are soft, focused on you.

"There." He hums, satisfied with him himself. “You should keep it on.”

“I should?” You ask, very confused. You thought Dream would be a little upset you stole his hat.

“Yeah. I told you it looks good on you. I like seeing you in my hat.”

He ducks his head to kiss you, hands briefly ghosting over your waist before he pulls away again. You smile at him before turning back to organizing the snacks. His arms loop around you, head settling atop yours for a moment as he watches.

"What?" You ask. He's being more touchy than usual; something has to be going on.

Dream pulls away, making you turn back to him. He doesn’t go far though, entwining his hand in yours and gently tugging you into the living room. The snacks are left abandoned as you follow him.

“Come watch football with me.” He insists.

"You'll have to explain all the rules and flags to me again." You warn him, but don't try and resist.

The second you're both on the couch he's pulling you closer to him so he can wrap an arm around your shoulders while you curl into him. You recognize one of the football teams as the Oklahoma Sooners, the one he likes. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, staring at the screen.

"They have to make it ten yards or else the ball goes to the other team." Dream quietly explains.

It's probably the fifth time you've heard him explain this exact thing, but you just keep forgetting. Football is confusing, and it's hard to pay attention when you're cuddling with him. Dream is always a welcome distraction from anything.

"You're being awfully touchy." You point out, moving to run your hand through his hair to tame the unruly curls. They're adorable but always a mess. “Not that I mind.”

He grins at you. "What can I say? You look really good in my hat."

"Maybe I'll buy one then."

Dream immediately frowns and shakes his head before his expression shifts more into a pout. The quick emotion change makes you laugh. Sometimes he can be a little dramatic, but you love him.

"You look good in my hat." He repeats, emphasizing his words.

"So I can only wear your cat hat?"

"Exactly."

Who could've thought that stealing his hat, accident or not, would've been the second-best thing you ever did? Second only to dating him in the first place, of course.

Dream kisses you again, making you practically melt into him. Now that you've found his secret weakness, you're definitely going to be using it. The great Dream, felled by you wearing his knit cat hat.

"You missed a touchdown." You mumble against his lips, teasing.

He doesn't even look back at the TV. "Better than missing a second of you."

Goddamn.

[familyvideostevie]

Hi there! I hope you’re having a good weekend :) Could I possibly request something where Dustin drags Eddie to watch the school musical to support his friend and as soon as Eddie hears her sing he falls hard for her?

hi! this was just really cute so i had to try it, hope you like! <3 i've only seen oklahoma once and i was like, 12, so i had to google the plot, my apologies for any mistakes there| 1.5k, fluff, fem!reader

"Why isn't there a musical called Indiana?" Eddie complains. "Why is --" he looks at the cover of the program in his hand -- "Oklahoma so important?"

"If you're going to keep asking stupid questions I think you should wait in the van." Dustin sinks low in the high school auditorium seat. "Don't embarrass me."

Eddie pats Dustin on the head and the boy scowls. "For like, two hours? Nah. I wouldn't even be able to smoke since I'm your ride, Henderson. Gotta be responsible." Eddie would never drive high, plus he promised Dustin's mom to get him home in one piece and man, that lady makes good lemon bars. "Might as well see what all the fuss is about."

"It's like, inter-club relations, Eddie. We use the drama room all the time for Hellfire so it's a good thing we're here!" Dustin sounds very impressed with his own reasoning. He'd asked Eddie to come with him to see the school musical and after spring break Eddie isn't in the habit of denying his young friend much. Even this.

"Oh, so we're not here because you have a crush on the leading lady who also happens to be your old babysitter?" Eddie jokes. But honestly, Dustin is right. The theater club is nice enough to let a group of punks play a board game even through the musical going on, which he never really thought about before. And though he doesn't really know any of the theater kids, but he respects them. It's tough to do something you really love in high school, a place where earnestness is ridiculed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dustin huffs, his cheeks a gentle pink. Eddie shifts in his seat as the lights start to go down -- the auditorium isn't too crowded and he wonders if he's going to fall asleep.

But that feeling lasts only a few minutes because then he sees you. You're in a pale blue dress that's probably meant to be old-timey or something, Eddie doesn't know, but he can't look away. You're pretty, that's clear, but you're also magnetic.

"Is that her?" he whispers to Dustin, who nods before putting his finger to his lips to tell Eddie to be quiet. And then you start to sing. And he'll deny it for the rest of his days, but he swears the world stops and it's just you and him in the dingy Hawkins High auditorium. It's not metal, it's not rock, it's nothing Wayne plays in the trailer, nothing he remembers his mom singing to him when he was a kid. But something about the gentle melody worms its way into his bones and he feels like he's floating. Is this love at first sight?

The musical goes by and Eddie only kind of registers the plot -- bad boy versus good boy, a lot of town politics, maybe some of it too familiar -- but he doesn't take his eyes off of you whenever you're on stage. Which, as the lead role, is a lot. When you sing your ballad he thinks he's blushing. He's blushing. He doesn't even know you!

So when the show ends and the cast comes out to take bows Eddie leaps to his feat, clapping and whistling when you cast your smile over the crowd. Is he imagining that you pause on him and Dustin for a second longer than anyone else?

"Dude," Dustin says, wacking Eddie's leather-clad shoulder. "I think you're drooling." The auditorium empties out and Dustin starts to walk away with a huff. Eddie swipes his hand across his face just in case (he's not drooling).

"Wait, what do we do now?" he calls after his friend. "Is that it?" There's a crowd of people milling around in the hallway, some holding flowers and other small gifts. He wonders if you have a boyfriend who is here somewhere.

"We can wait, if you want. The cast will come out soon." Dustin strokes his chin like a supervillain as he says it, looking far too smug for his own good. Eddie frowns.

"Spit it out, Henderson," Eddie says, leaning on a row of lockers. No one seems to think twice about him being there to watch a show about a town pariah who does some bad shit and dies for it. But he can't think too much about that. Not when he's thinking about you.

"Nope!" he says, throwing his hands in the air. "Nothing to say." Eddie rolls his eyes and looks back at the program and the cast list, running his finger over your name. He wonders if you've had class together and he just didn't know it since he never went. God, there's no way you don't know who he is. And you're probably scared of him, just like everyone else. This is a bad idea.

"Henderson--" he starts to say, pushing off of the lockers to head for the door. But then another voice stops him.

"Dustin!" It's you. After listening to you talk and sing in a faux-southern accent for two hours he's a little shocked to hear your regular tone but it warms him all the way through just as strong. Eddie takes a second just to look at you as you hug the younger boy. You've still got your stage make-up on but you're in jeans and a drama club shirt and he thinks you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

"I thought I saw you in the audience," you grin, sending Dustin a wink that has him blushing. Eddie finds the wherewithal to give you a little wave.

"You were great," he says earnestly. "Honestly. Never heard a voice like that, I swear." He rubs the back of his neck for a second before going for it. "I'm Eddie --"

"Munson," you finish, going in for a quick hug. He's too surprised to react and when you pull back you look a little shy. "Sorry," you grimace. "Post-show adrenaline has me hugging everyone."

"S'okay," Eddie breathes out. You smell like hairspray and sweat and he wants to look at you forever. "You know me?"

"Hard not to," you say before you think about it. Your eyes widen as you realize what you said and Eddie tries not to flinch. "You look after my favorite kid!" you blurt out. "And I'm the one who picks up the drama room before Hellfire."

"You should come by sometime," Dustin chirps. "Stay for a session." You smile a little and tuck your hands in your back pockets. Eddie wants to touch you so badly he copies the movement so he can't reach for you.

"Didn't know you were the boss, Dusty," you reply, eyeing Eddie. "I wouldn't want to interrupt--"

"We meet on Fridays," Eddie says. "Which you uh, know. Since you set up for us." Shit. C'mon, Munson, he thinks. But you just smile at him.

"We've got the cast party tomorrow but I could come next week?" There are other people waiting behind him to talk to you, he's sure of it, but your attention never wanders.

"That would be cool," he says. "You know where to find us." He can't believe this is happening. He doesn't even want to play D&D with you -- he wants to make you smile, he wants to drive you around and find out if you've ever listened to metal, he wants to run his hands through your hair.

"You were really great," he repeats. He is feeling greedy, wanting every moment he can with you before he steps back into his real life.

"Dude, you already said that," Dustin mutters. You laugh and god, Eddie has to hear that sound again.

"Thank you," you say earnestly, a hand coming out of your pocket to gently cup his bicep. "See you at school, yeah?"

"You can count on that," Eddie replies. He means it. He'll go to every class from now on for the chance to talk to you. You wave goodbye and wander to the next group of people waiting to talk to you.

"Dude," Dustin says once the pair are in the parking lot. "That was embarrassing."

"I know," Eddie grins. He can't stop smiling. His arm burns where you touched him. "Thanks for being my wingman."

"Your wingman?" Dustin scoffs. "I invited her to Hellfire for me." But the grin he's hiding says differently. Eddie just rolls his eyes.

"We'll see, Henderson. I'm gonna get that girl to fall in love with me."

(He'll tell you this story in a few months' time when you're watching him tune his guitar on his bed. How he felt the world shift when you sang. How the first time you came to Hellfire he kept messing up because he couldn't stop looking at you. How he tried so hard to listen to more musicals on tape but hated them all. How it took the entirety of the movie you saw on your first date for him to work up the courage to hold your hand. How he called Dustin after you kissed for the first time. How he's pretty sure he fell in love with you immediately.)

tags: @ruinedbythehobbit @superflannel @eddiussy @greenclues @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @louderfortheback @actual-mom-steve-harrington @ducky-is-dead-inside @manyfandomsfanvergent @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x

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reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

[fandomlovingfreak]

Egon Spengler/F!Reader (3/3)

Summerville

Ch1. Ch2.

Rating: General Audience

Trigger Warning: angst. So much angst. It’s sad at the ending, but in the bittersweet sort of way.

Word Count: 2072

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Congrats! You are Callie’s mother in this fic. You find yourself in Summerville with your daughter and grandchildren...

Disclaimer: I do not own the Ghostbusters (sad, I know). This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: Ah! So I know I said this is so so so sad, but I’ve decided it’s bittersweet kind of a sad. I mean, I felt sad writing it so maybe you will feel sad, but who knows! I’m just super happy people read this fic and I’m also sort of sad it’s over! BUT I want to keep writing for Egon / the Ghostbusters! So hopefully the next one-shot or series will be happier and lighter! Thank you so much for reading!

Enjoy

***

Many years later...

"I failed--"

I cup her face in my hands, "you didn't fail. You tried." I want to absorb this pain from her. It's never easy to see your child in pain.

"Mom, I'm getting divorced. I thought it was okay. He said it was too hard. Phoebe was too hard. I failed both of my children..."

Wiping a tear from her cheek before pulling her into my arms, "You and I always find a way. Even if you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, I promise you it's there. It's just very, very dim right now." I tease, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I will always be here to hold you and wipe away your tears."

"I can't do it like you," she looks close to crumbling. The hurt in her eyes is so familiar. I know that pain well.

"When your father left us, I thought I wouldn't survive." The words come out soft. Ever since she was fourteen, we've avoided talking about Egon. "You were only three months old, Callie. I will always be here for you. You know that I wouldn't have survived without Uncle Ray's support. He was always there to help when I needed him, just like how I will always be there for you." I hold her hand tightly in mine, "We're going to get through this."

Three years later...

"Mom," Callie's voice comes through my receiver.

"Yes? Is something wrong? Is it one of the kids?"

"No... well, I just got a phone call from a testator."

What on Earth would a testator be doing calling Callie of all people? "Oh? What was it for?"

Silence.

"Mom... dad died." I hear my blood pumping in my ears.

"What?" The word comes out as more of a croak than a question.

"He died... last night. A heart attack or something. He left me the... house in Summerville."

Egon-- dead? The living room suddenly feels like it's rushing around me as I slowly sink into the couch.

"He died?" I try not to let the sudden urge to cry corrupt my voice. She wouldn't understand, wouldn't like it if I were emotional about her father's death. Though truly justifiable, Callie's anger with Egon's leaving has given her a two-dimensional view of him. I can't blame her for feeling the way she does about him.

Perceptive as she is, she isn't fooled. She can hear the impending tears, "Are you okay? Should I come over?"

Feeling like the remnants of my world are truly crashing down this time, I quickly object. "No. I'm fine. I'm just shocked, is all. Did... did the testator tell you if he only left you the house?"

"Only the house. It's in the middle of nowhere in a place called... Summerville? In Oklahoma."

"What are you going to do? About the house, I mean."

Callie is silent for a moment, "I don't know. Sell it, probably. I have no idea why he'd leave it to me."

"Would you like me to come with you? I'd be willing to."

She pauses, "I didn't want to ask... but would you? Mom, I've had the worst week... We got evicted, again."

"Of course, I'll come along if you need me. And if you need to, you know there is always a place for you in my home."

A week later...

"You knew grandpa was here the entire time?" Trevor's voice cracks slightly as he glares at me. 

My knowledge of Egon's whereabouts was accidentally revealed as I told them everything they wanted to know about the man. 

"Oh, darling. I didn't exactly know. I-- had the address, but he never responded to my letters." I assumed he wouldn't have wanted me to chase after him... why would he have left if that were the case?

"Trevor, don't be rude--" Callie says sternly.

"She knew he was here, and she didn't even tell you!" Phoebe joins in on the argument.

"Darling, you're making accusations on situations you weren't alive to form an opinion on. Your grandfather left your mother and me to persue... whatever this is. He chose this. I had to protect my child."

The lights in the kitchen flicker quickly, almost unnoticeably. I glance up, frowning at the faulty lights.

"Whatever. You still knew he was here." My grandchildren leave the room, leaving my daughter and me alone.

"Did you really-- you knew?"

"Callie, please. I didn't do this to hurt you. Your father... well, when he was set on something, he never veered from it. He didn't want us to come along, and you know I had to put you first. He broke my heart, darling. I had to rebuild my life and move on."

She laughs, a tone of bitterness in her voice, "I wouldn't know that, would I? What he was like."

Callie brushes past me.

I sit in agonizing silence for a moment. Maybe I deserved this? I could've given Callie the address when she was old enough to make those decisions... I truly thought I was protecting her from the heartbreak I felt when Egon left.

"Oh, Egon." The lights flicker again. Suspicious. "If you had just-- You shouldn't have died here alone." You didn't have to die here alone...

I could swear I felt something touch my shoulder, but I brush the sensation off as a breeze. The house was sort of creepy and certainly not well maintained. It was plausible that there were all sorts of breezes in each room.

The kids and Callie had chosen to sleep in the guest rooms, electing to leave Egon's room unoccupied. As it's the last room available, I suppose it wouldn't be too weird to sleep in his bed... Besides, I'd be lying if I wasn't curious about the room he probably spent the most time in. I'm quite certain that he spent most of his time somewhere experimenting. He wouldn't have changed that much from when I knew him to now.

Slowly, I turn the door handle, "here goes nothing..." Nothing about the room surprises me. There is a bed in the center against the way, a singular side table, a dresser, and an old lamp.

It's what is on the side table that catches my attention.

Without thinking, I cross the room, my hand hovering over the familiar pair of glasses.

He never just... left them sitting around. Confirmation that this nightmare was real, I suppose.

Tears spring in my eyes as I finally pick them up before sitting on the bed. 

"I'll never understand why..." I feel choked up, unable to finish my thought out loud. 

I'll never understand why he left.

A few hours later...

"Mom?" I glance over to the door where Callie is standing.

"Yes?" She sits hesitantly for a moment before approaching the bed.

"Are you okay?"

I set the glasses back down on the table, "Yes."

My daughter doesn't seem convinced as she comes to sit down next to me, "Are you really sad? Even after everything he put you through?"

I can't help but smile as I stroke the back of my hand against her cheek, "Despite everything, I loved your father. I will always love your father." Callie looks away from me, so I reach out to take her hand in mine, "He loved you. I know he did. I never wanted you to think he didn't love you. When he held you for the first time... Oh, Callie, he loved you so much."

A small smile comes over my face as I remember the first time he held her. We were both so exhausted by the time Callie was born, but we insisted on staying up to meet her. I had held her first, with Egon watching from over my shoulder. He was so hesitant when I handed her to him, but I could see the click happen when everything began to feel real for him as he held her. For that short three months, he was a good father. 

He would've been great.

"Not enough to stay, though, right?" I can see the tears coming. Many times we've had these tearful conversations. I've never had the exact words to soothe this sort of pain. And now... well, now it's too late.

"I know it's not what you want to hear, sweetheart, but your father had a reason."

"Mom, how can you just--" Callie looks so frustrated. Such a similar expression to Egon when something in an experiment went wrong... or he ran out of his snack stash, "how can you defend him?"

I smile at my passionate, caring, wonderful daughter, "Because I don't believe he would have left for no reason."

A few days later...

To see my grandchildren in a similar predicament as their grandfather would be humorous if Gozer weren't on the house's lawn threatening our lives. 

Ray, Winston, and Peter have all arrived after Phoebe's jail call to Ray.

"You didn't tell me Egon died," Ray looks at me with hurt in his eyes.

"Ray," I want to embrace him, but honestly! There's a demon deity threatening my grandchildren! "Can we do this some other time? You know after we take care of the situation?"

***

I think I'm hallucinating or dead when I see him standing next to Phoebe. I'd seen plenty of ghosts when we were together, but the last thing I'd expected to see was Egon's ghost as he helped our granddaughter aim the proton pack towards Gozer. 

My heart races as I watch the scene unfold, Gozer being sucked into the trap, hopefully, to never be seen again.

The group sits in shocked silence for a minute before Callie runs towards Egon. I watch as my daughter hugs her father for the first time in her life. I still cannot believe my eyes. Is he really there? Can that really be him?

Pulling away from him, Callie slowly walks back towards her children.

The ghost turns his attention to me, looking like he's expecting something.

Callie nudges me forwards, "C'mon then, mom. He's waiting."

I glance around at my daughter, grandchildren, and friends for a moment before I step closer, still somewhat confused over the entire situation. 

He's gotten older, and I suppose I have as well, but his smile is exactly how I remember it as he looks me over the way I did to him.

"Egon." I cross the lawn towards the ghost of my lost love. Hesitantly, I reach out my hand towards him. He takes it in his own, the sensation sending a shiver up my spine. His hand feels different, less humanlike, but still solid in mine as if he was truly here in the flesh.

Without warning, I throw myself into his arms, letting the tears flow down my face. Hugging 'ghost Egon' isn't exactly the same as it was hugging him while he was alive. I can't smell his aftershave, and his body isn't radiating any heat, but it doesn't matter. I haven't felt his touch in thirty-something years. It feels like I'm home.

"I love you. I never stopped loving you. I forgive you, Egon. I--" His hand runs up and down my back, and I burrow my face deeper into his chest, "I love you..."

I pull away to see his face. He's smiling, the smile I think made me fall for him in the first place, and I know he understands what I am telling him. I know now it was never really over. It just wasn't the story that had to happen. 

His thumb caresses below my right eye just as he begins to dissipate into the night. The particles drift up into the stars, twinkling in a final goodbye.

I whisper my parting words to the stars.

From behind me, someone creeps closer until arms tighten around me, and the dark mop of Trevor's head is leaning against my shoulder.

Looking at my grandson, I run a hand over his unruly hair before kissing the top of his head. Phoebe creeps closer, wrapping her arms around me opposite her brother. I press a kiss to the top of my second Egon-look-alike's head.

At last, Callie joins in the family hug, and my heart feels complete.

"Thank you," I whisper to the stars, running my hand over Callie's hair. Thank you, Egon. 

Thank you for giving me all this love.