#sometimes you gotta kill your husband

[deoidesign]

Worry free, guarantee!

loved painting this one, I love illustrated advertisements

[hannibal-is-my-comfort-show]

[shiplessoceans]

Moments in House MD that made me absolutely feral as an O.G fan that watched it as it aired back in the naughties, shipping House/Wilson hardcore and not realising I was queer:

1. Wilson loudly reciting a poem to House as he enters the hospital lobby which contains the line: "His manly chest, his stubbled jaw, everything about him leaves me raw.'

2. The look on Wilson's face when a random clinic patient gives House advice about his date with Cameron.

"Do her....or you're gay."

*cue Wilson looking to the side like...wait a minute...*

3. House: "They were not Prada! you wouldn't know Prada if it stepped on your scrotum."

4. Wilson: "House I believe you're a romantic, you didn't just believe him, you believed IN him! Wanna come over tonight, watch old movies and cry?"

5. House (yelling across a crowded lobby to Wilson): "How long can you go without sex?"

6. The look on Wilson's face when he gets a masseuse for House (!) and she massages his hand, causing him to begin moaning orgasmically.

7. Stacey: "What are you hiding?"

House: "I'm gay... Oh that's not what you meant! But it does explain a lot thought. No girlfriend, always with Wilson..."

8. House watching Wilson sleep on the couch in his apartment, then quietly erasing a voicemail from a real estate agent saying Wilson's apartment application for a new place went through.

9. Wilson, explaining his infidelity during his previous marriage, to Cameron when she's feeling awful because she considered cheating on her husband while he was dying:

"Well my wife wasn't dying, she wasn't even sick. But I met someone who made me feel...funny. Good. And I... didn't wanna let that feeling go."

The lack of pronoun haunts me to this day.

10. Gay male patient harassing House and questioning why he won't treat him:

Patient: "Because you're a closet case?" (Eyeing House and Wilson who have just emerged from House's apartment)

Wilson: "Uh...we're not...together..."

House: "He is so self-loathing."

11. House nearly kills himself to attempt to prove there is no afterlife, Wilson waits over his bedside and then calls him an idiot and orders him extra pain medication. House's response is:

"I love you."

12. House: "Big romantic weekend in the Poconos could change everything."

13. Wilson refusing to participate in a board vote to oust House from the hospital and consequently losing him job for House. Wilson's furious with him over being put in that position but forgives House easily.

14. Wilson (speaking to House about dating a woman eerily similar to House): "Why not? Why not date you? It's perfect! We've known each other for years, we put up with all kinds of crap from each other and we keep coming back. We're a couple!"

House: "Are we still speaking metaphorically?"

15. (Less than a minute later when House keeps trying to convince Wilson he and Amber are a bad idea).

Wilson: "Wait a minute, every time I agree with you, you come up with a new argument. What are you trying to avoid?"

House: *Stares at Wilson with the most meaningful eye contact to ever eye contact*

Wilson: "Oh! Well if you'd looked at me with those flashing eyes before I was involved (clicks tongue)."

16. To Wilson's new girlfriend in a threatening, 'stay away from my man' voice:

House: "Give him back his sweatshirt... Pit stains don't become you."

17. House: "This isn't just about the sex! You like her personality! You like that she's conniving. You like that she can humiliate someone if it serves..."

*tense pause*

House: "Oh my god. You're sleeping with me."

*flees restaurant*

18. House: "I have really gotta get you laid. If I have to plough that furrow myself, so be it."

19. Wilson: "I have a headache."

House: "We don't have to have sex, sometimes it's nice just to cuddle and talk."

20. (To a bellboy at a hotel House is staying at, while gesturing to Wilson)

House: "After he and I have sex, I'm gonna slit his throat and disembowel him in the bathtub."

21. House going to interview all of Wilson's ex wives to figure out how best to break him and Cuddy up when they aren't even dating. The look on his face when Bonnie explains how good at sex Wilson is? Priceless.

22. House: "Probably my deep and very unconscious desire to get Wilson into my bedroom."

22. House: "If you're coming back because you're attracted to the shine of my neediness. I'd be fine with that."

23. House borrowing money off Wilson in increasing amounts to test the limits of their friendship. He later admits to Wilson that: "Maybe I don't want to push this til it breaks".

24. House being convinced the male CIA agent who approaches him in season 4 is a stripper and sitting on a bench saying:

House: "You wanna close that door?"

CIA agent: "Why?"

House: "Well I assume you're gonna drop trou at some point during the dance, I don't see why I should share."

25. Wilson: "I want a threesome"

House: "Shouldn't we try a twosome first?"

26. All of that episode where House is talking to Dr Nolan and says Wilson is not a consolation prize. Legit became convinced halfway through that this was going to be House realising he's in love with Wilson and wants to keep living with him.

27. House hiring a P.I. to stalk Wilson after they've had a falling out to see if he misses him. The P.I. clocks this immediately and treats the case like that of a scorned lover needing to know if the other party is pining and if theres anything that can make him come back.

28. Wilson proposing to House in a restaurant to throw a wrench in his plans to date their neighbour.

29. Wilson got mad that Cuddy hurt House. So he bought her dream apartment out from under her in sheer spite and moved into said apartment with House.

30. Wilson being indecisive and unable to buy furniture for himself because of a flimsy sense of self and an inability to figure out who he is and what he wants. House teases him about this and challenges him to buy one peice of furniture that says something about who Wilson is.

The peice of furniture Wilson buys?

A piano organ for House.

31. House: "You were thinking about Wilson while were were having sex? That's cool so was I."

32. Wilson: "If things go wrong, I just want you to know..."

House: "If you're gonna say that you've always been secretly gay for me? Everyone just kind of assumed it."

33. Cameron: "Where do you put the cane?"

House: (referring to Wilson) "If he buys me dinner he can find out."

34. That gay as fuck ending, fuck I'll never be over it.

[eideticmemory]

BABY DADDY | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

A one night stand leads to much, much more than either of you bargained for.

Word Count: 8.3k

Warning/Includes: BabyDaddy!Matthew, duh!!! Smut Lite™️.

So, the thing about babies is that they don’t really give a fuck about context. They truly couldn’t care less about what you’re doing, what’s happening in your life, your goals, your dreams, your ambitions. It’s all irrelevant. They will show up anyway. And what the little clump of cells in your uterus has failed to realize is that you do not know their father. At all.

Seriously.

You know him biblically. Obviously. You’ve shared drinks and a bed. You’ve seen him naked. He’s seen you naked. You’ve spent, maybe, an hour and a half together total. And you spent the majority of that time making the conscious decision to leave together, undress and fuck. You’re pretty sure the last thing you said to him was, “Safe travels.” As in, I don’t want to see you again. As in, If all goes well, I should never have to see you again.

You used a condom. You’re not dumb, you used a condom. So when weeks passed by and your period was late, you didn’t think anything of it. It happens. Sometimes periods are just late.

But it never came.

You bought the pregnancy test just to be safe. In fact, you were so sure that you were playing it safe that you didn’t take it for another three days. Pushing it back and back, hoping your period would come.

It didn’t.

So you squatted over the toilet and got a good amount of pee on the thing and waited two minutes just for it to stare you directly in the eye and say: FUCK YOU, DUMB BITCH. YOU’RE PREGNANT.

Okay, it just said pregnant. But that’s what went through your head. Your knees buckled and you grabbed your stomach, almost like you could feel the thing just hanging out in there. You doubled over, thinking you were going to puke, but you didn’t. You eye the test again and then, out of pure nerves, you puke.

You buy two more tests. They call you a dumb bitch again, just a little louder. You want a bottle of wine but you don’t have one because you’re pregnant. You want a lighter and a goddamn cigarette but you don’t have one because you don’t even smoke and you’re pregnant.

You sit down for lunch with your friend and it’s the first time you say these words out loud.

She yells, “You’re what?”

Pregnant!

You give her this look that says please don’t make me say it again and she doesn’t. She heard you very well the first time.

“W-wh-what…” she trembles. Shaking, like she’s the one knocked up. “What? H-how…what? who’s the daddy?”

You sigh, cut your eyes up at her, and her jaw drops, stuttering, “O-oh…no…no…[y/n]…no.”

“It’s gotta be him. He’s the last guy I had sex with. I had gotten my period before then. Now, no period, three positive pregnancy tests.”

“Three?” she shouts. “Oh, so you’re pregnant pregnant?”

“Yeah, I took three just to be sure and they all told me to go kill myself. So.”

“Oh my god…” she shudders. “Oh my god? Oh my…” and she chugs her glass of wine in one big gulp. It looks good.

“What are you going to do?” she asks you.

You shrug, your mind made up, “I’m keeping it.”

“What?”

“Okay, you need to quiet down now before we get kicked out of here.”

“What do you mean keeping it? As in, giving birth? As in, raising a child?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“O…kay…and the baby daddy?”

You shrug, “What about him?”

“I-“ she slams her hands down. “[y/n].”

“What?”

“You’re not gonna tell him?”

“Why would I? I have a house and a job and insurance and a 401K, I can take care of my kid.”

“Well, yeah…but it’s…his kid, too? Why-why are you keeping it if you’re not gonna tell him?”

“Because I want a baby. I don’t know. I-I thought about…getting it sucked out of there, but I don’t wanna. I want a baby. I want a kid. And yeah, this…isn’t the conventional way of doing that, but I never much saw myself with a husband anyway.”

“So…what’s the plan? Matthew’s just walking down the street one day and a little carbon copy of him comes out of the shadows saying ooh, aah, look at me! I’m the love child you unintentionally abandoned 10 years ago! That’s fucked.”

“What if he doesn’t care? What if he wants to abandon the kid? What if we’re on the same page?”

“Then at least give him the option.”

“Ugh.”

“[y/n], just give him the option. What? You can gargle his cock in your mouth but you can’t have a conversation? You need to tell him.”

“Okay…” you roll your eyes.

“And whatever the outcome, he stills owes you money. He stills owes some type of financial support, whether you want it or not.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Whatever. Look, I work with him when he’s in town, okay? I see him, I have to interact with him, I can’t hold on to this and I can’t be the one to tell him. [y/n]…please…”

“Okay!”

“Okay?”

You huff, “Okay. Fine.”

“Okay. You have his number?”

“No.”

“Classy,” she quips as she scrolls through her phone and you roll your eyes, “Okay, I’m airdropping it to you now.”

His contact comes through to your phone and you only stare at it long enough to accept and then you plant the device face down on the table. You suck back an anxious gulp of water and fidget with your hands, “This is your fault, you know?”

“What? How?”

“You’re the one that introduced us. At that launch party or whatever. What was that even about?”

“It was the launch party for a new production company and fuck you, you whore. I didn’t force you to go and get yourself knocked up. That was all you, Matthew and those free shots.”

“Oh, please, you practically threw us together.”

“Yeah, well, sue me, I thought you guys would hit it off,” she shrugs. “Not quite this much, but…”

The two of you sit in silence, looking around the restaurant, picking at your food.

“So,” she pips.

Your eyes flicker up at her.

“How was it?” she smirks. “Worth a baby?”

You let a long sigh, shaking your head with a very violent roll of your eyes, “Honestly…yeah…”

So far, pregnancy doesn’t suck. You’re still early, still not showing. There’s been no nausea or bloating. The insomnia, however, is getting ridiculous. You’re normally the type of girl to crash in bed as soon as possible, knocked out the moment your head hits the pillow. It is now midnight and your eyes are wide open, unable to relax. You check everything possible off of your to-do list, even scheduling your first obstetrician appointment. The only thing you haven’t done is call Matthew, having had his number sitting in your phone for close to a week now. To make it worse, all you want is a cinnamon roll. But not just any cinnamon roll. One from the late night bakery down the street. This is especially dangerous because you know very well that they are still open and somewhere out there is a cinnamon roll with your name on it. It would be nuts to leave the warmth of your bed right now, walk a mile in the dead of night, just for a cinnamon roll.

But you’re going to.

You bundle up and head out into the summer night, looking completely insane. Hoodie, sweats, tattered sneakers built for walking down the New York City sidewalks. It’s not far and you walk fast, faster than normal tonight because the craving is just that strong. You make it in all of ten minutes and within five more, you have the box cracked open and are tearing a piece off with your bare hands.

You look up for merely a second and your eyes catch him immediately. Now, you’re tired. Your blood sugar’s just shot up but you’re pretty sure it’s him. Posing for a picture with a fan. Tall. Beautiful. Smiling. His eyes land on you and he excuses himself, throws up a wave. You jump, looking around, contemplating running. But, yeah. That wouldn’t be suspicious at all. By the time you stop fidgeting, he’s standing over you and you’re trapped.

“Hi!” he greets you. “Hi, [y/n], how are you?”

You wipe frosting from your mouth and chuckle, more caught off guard by his remembering your name than anything. You cough, “Hi. Matthew, hi. I’m good. I’m doing good. How are you?”

“Good! Just heading home.”

“Oh! Oh, you have a place in New York?”

“Yeah, near the park, just a few blocks over. You live around here?”

“Uh…” you did not know this so you’re forcing your brain to catch up. “Uh, yeah, yeah. About a block over, just… couldn’t sleep. Wanted a cinnamon roll.”

“Looks good,” he giggles. “You look good.”

“Oh, you’re full of shit,” you smile.

“No! No, I mean it. You look great. I love the cinnamon roll run outfit. Honestly.”

You blush, you don’t mean to, but you blush. “Well, thank you. You look good, too.” He does. You can tell he’s just leaving somewhere because he’s dressed up and you suddenly remember very vividly how you ended up pregnant.

“Aw, thank you. I appreciate that…” his eyes scan over you. “Where did you say you live? Can I walk you home? It’s late.”

You want to shout No! Thank you! and run. It wouldn’t be hard to do. Why not? Still, you say, “Yes. Yeah, I’d like that.”

And so the two of you stroll down the empty sidewalks together, he does most of the talking. You can hear it in his voice that he’s flirting. You’ve heard it before. It has been successful, with you, before. Yet, you’re too busy this time around trying not to puke. He walks you to your door and you notice your cinnamon roll has gone cold in your hand.

“This is me,” you tell him. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiles. “We should get together again, if you’re up for it.”

You nod, “Mhm. Yeah. That sounds nice. Um, I’ll give you my number.” He instantly pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it over. He’s serious. You type your name and number in and hand it back, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Perfect,” his fingers linger on yours as he takes his phone back. “I’ll call you. Hey, could I use your bathroom? I pee fast so I won’t inconvenience you too long.”

No!

You snicker, “Yeah…” you start to unlock the door. “Of course. Sorry in advance, it’s a little messy.”

“Oh, a little mess doesn’t scare me,” he laughs.

You let him in and point out the bathroom and as soon as he disappears, closes the door behind him, you release the breath that’s been trapped in your chest and plop down on the couch. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The toilet flushes and then there’s a loud bang from the bathroom and you snap back to reality. “Matthew?” you call. “You alright in there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he calls in response. “Just kicked over your trash can. Sorry!”

“That’s okay!” you reply. You relax.

It is definitely not okay.

You hop up and sprint to the bathroom door. You don’t even knock, you just burst into the bathroom where Matthew is picking up the spilled trash. Your eyes instantly land on the pregnancy tests and you can’t do anything but stand in wait.

When he notices them, he laughs. Not a cackle, but a soft giggle, almost silly, “You pregnant or something?” he asks. It’s a joke. He’s making a joke.

He looks at your face. It’s not a joke.

He stops laughing. He stops smiling. You’ve never seen someone’s entire being go so pale.

“Oh, you’re…” he stutters. “You’re…” he breathes. “Is it mine?”

You can hardly look him in the eye but you do and you nod.

“How long have you known?”

You gulp, “Like…a week. I haven’t been to the doctor or anything.”

“Are you…” you can see his chest heaving. “Are you serious?”

You nod, “Yes.”

He looks around the bathroom, wobbling on his heels and you worry he’s going to pass out. Instead, he slams the toilet seat down and sits on it, falls on it. “What…what are you going to do?”

“I’m…” you clear your throat. “Keeping it.”

“Oh.” he says. “You don’t...you’re not…”

“No. I don’t want that.”

And this is where his words became jumbled. Mumbled. Barely incoherent. He, himself, cannot even figure out what he’s trying to say.

“Look,” you interrupt him. “You don’t have to be involved, okay? You don’t even need to be on the birth certificate. I can handle this. I will handle this. If you wanna drop me a couple hundreds bucks every month and call it a day, that’s fine. If you don’t? Also fine. But I need to know because we’re…not…confusing this kid, okay? So, you need to be all in or all out.”

“Are you...” he cuts his eyes up at you and then promptly rises to his feet. “I can’t do this right now.”

You’re so dumbfounded as he rushes past you that your brain doesn’t even fully process it until he’s almost out the door. “Where are you going?”

“I have to clear my head. I-I have to get out of here.”

“Uh, okay...” he closes the door in your face. “Bye…”

And in the wake of all this exciting, suddenly surrounded by silence and cut tension, you remember your cinnamon roll. You want it after all.

When your friend asks if you’ve told Matthew, you say, “Yes.”

“Oh, shit. You called him?”

“No.” And you have to explain. You have to explain every awkward, uncomfortable, terrible second.

“And I haven’t heard from him since,” you shrug.

“Really?”

You nod.

She sighs, “Wow…fuck him.”

“Fuck him.”

And you meant that. You’re content with that. You feel like you can move on. Prepare, nest, move forward. Then he calls you. Out of nowhere. His name pops up on your phone and silences the music that had been playing while you took a bath. You stare at the screen for a long time, wondering if it’s best to protect your peace. It is. But still, you answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, [y/n]?” he clears his throat. “It’s Matthew.”

“Matthew,” you sigh. “Hi.”

“Hey, um, when is your first doctor’s appointment? Has that passed already?”

“Um…” you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely confused. “No. It’s on the twenty-sixth. At Aster on the upper west side. Eleven o’clock.”

Silence.

Then, he says, “Okay…okay, I’ll be there.”

You shrug, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

You arrive at 10:45. You do not expect him to show up, like truly expect him to show up. So when he comes walking into the waiting room, your heart genuinely stops. You cross and uncross your legs, shuffling in your seat.

“Hi,” you whisper, with very minimal eye contact.

“Hi.”

The nurse calls your name and Matthew follows you into the examination room, taking a seat beside you. The technician asks you a series of questions about your last period, your symptoms, your health history and Matthew hears none of it.

“And are you dad?” she asks him.

He feels like he’s going to throw up. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

You roll your eyes and luckily, this kind woman cuts the tension pretty quickly. She slathers this cold gel on your belly and presses the wand to your skin and the heartbeat picks up immediately.

“Oh, wow, strong heartbeat already!” she grins at you. But you can’t take your eyes off the monitor. Matthew either. “You’re right around ten weeks so there’s the little head and you can see their arms and legs starting to form here.”

You can. You can really see it. There’s a baby in there. Barely. But a baby! You look at Matthew and his look of pure terror mirrors yours. It’s kind of comforting.

The nurse wipes you off and says, “So your estimated due date is March 10th, but again, that’s just an estimate so take it with a grain of salt because babies tend to follow their own schedule. You’re looking at anywhere from two to three days before or after.”

“Holy shit,” Matthew swears. “That’s the day after my birthday.”

“Is it really?” you tilt your head and at this, the nurse is dumbfounded. At this, Matthew is completely silenced.

You ask for two separate copies of the ultrasound and the technician has gotten over the shock. She’s not going to question it anymore, not going to give it any thought. Let you two sort it out.

As you stand outside afterwards, twiddling your thumbs, unsure of what to say or what to do, he asks, “Are you hungry? Can I take you to lunch?”

You cross your arms, wanting to say no. Wanting to lie. Instead you sigh, “Yes,” you nod. “Yes, please. I’m fucking starving.”

So he takes you to a cafe down the street where you order possibly the biggest burger even seen and fries and a cup of veggies and a piece of cake. It’s awkward, silent, and he just watches you eat. Almost like he can’t wrapped his head around it. You come up for air and catch his gaze.

“Hey,” you swallow. “Don’t look at me crazy. You’ve never had something in your body competing for resources.”

He chuckles, “No judgement. Eat what you want.”

“That was my plan.”

He picks at his food for a few moments and then sighs, “So…how…how are we gonna do this?”

You would ask for more context but you don’t need it. You know exactly what he means. You shrug, “I don’t know…” you shrug again. “I don’t know, just…do the best we can, I guess?”

He nods, “Yeah. Yeah, that always seems to work for everyone else.”

September | 14 Weeks

The deal is that Matthew will come in every four weeks for your appointments. This is what he agrees to, but you’re not convinced it will happen. But your next appointment rolls around and you’re shocked to walk in and find he’s beat you there. This time, he sees you and he smiles. His eyes scan over your figure as you take a seat, he goes, “Oh, you’re…you’re kinda starting to…”

You glance down at your tiny baby bump and you have this weird urge all the time to touch it so you do. “Oh. Yeah. I finally had to start telling people at work. They made me a registry.”

“Oh, that’s nice. What…what do you need me to get? What does a baby need?”

“God, dude, too much shit, I swear. Plus, I don’t even know what I want to dress her in. There’s like a million different brands and they all look the same or are made from spider silk or something stupid. I don’t know.”

He tilts his head at you, “Her? You think it’s a girl?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. I don’t think we can find out just yet anyway but, maybe?”

This little grin appears on his face and he almost reaches in to your bump, but he doesn’t. He shuffles in his seat, clears his throat, “A girl would be nice.”

You smile, “I think so, too.”

You both get your updated ultrasounds to go and the technician is greatful to not feel so suffocated this time. The energy around the two of you has shifted. Not much. You’re still strangers and it shows. But it’s different. You smile, you joke around, Matthew speaks up, asks questions.

It’s different.

At the end of the appointment, he asks you, “Hey, are you busy tonight?”

“Oh…” you’re caught off guard. “No. Why?”

“I was wondering if you might want to come over? For dinner maybe?”

“Oh.”

“Nothing…weird. I just…want you to know where I live and…I don’t know, I thought we could just talk.”

“Um. Okay. Okay. Send me your address.”

“Okay. I will.”

And so because you reluctantly agreed, you show up at his doorstep at six o’clock sharp. You’re not dressed up or anything, but it’s starting to get cold and you just threw on this big puffy jacket.

He opens the door and greets you with a bright smile, saying, “Hey, you. Come in.”

“Thanks,” you meekly walk in and instantly look around his place and oh, it’s fucking gorgeous. Comforting. Because you can’t have a baby with someone who lacks interior design skills.

“Are you still craving chinese? I got us a fuck ton.”

“Oh, my god,” you sigh in relief, smelling the food, instantly plopping down at the kitchen table. “Oh, my god, yes, thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiles.

You look around and notice the ultrasounds on his fridge, staring at them as he sets up a plate for you.

He takes a seat beside you and takes a bite of his food, then asking, “So, where are you from?”

It catches you off guard so you laugh, “What?”

“Where are you from? What’s your family like? Where’d you go to school?”

“Um, okay…what…you interrogating me?”

He laughs, “No. No, sorry. I just…uh, I wanna get to know you better, that’s all. You can ask me anything you wanna know, too.”

“Hm,” you nod. “Okay.” And you spill your guts.

You wrap your life up in a nutshell and it becomes this rapid game of back and forth about whose parents did this and how many siblings do you have and who was your first crush. Who’s your best friend. Who’s the last person you dated. Tell me about all the people you’ve dated!

Your baby daddy is kind of a slut, but, honestly, who are you to judge?

He’s funny. As far as you can tell, he’s honest. He doesn’t have or want to hide anything from you. What’s the point?

“So, um,” he says. “Why don’t I make you a drink and give you a little tour? Oh, wait, you…”

“Can’t drink,” you nod. “Yeah. Thanks for reminding me.”

“Sorry,” he laughs. “I have sparkling cider.”

“Bleh.”

“Sparkling water?”

“Bleh.”

“I…orange juice?” he laughs but you’re dead serious.

“That sounds so fucking good right now.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles. “Okay, you got it.”

And so, with your cup of orange juice, you follow him around his home. You see his bedroom, his office, and in the corner of the house, an empty room where he proclaims, “This will be the little guy’s room. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do with it yet, but definitely something.”

It’s beautiful. Lots of natural light but he says he’s already started looking at blackout curtains. “And then in my room,” he adds as you walk by. “I’ll have one of those little beside bassinet things, y’know? Just until he gets a little bigger.”

You look up at him with this sober look. You stumble around until you find somewhere to put your glass down and he asks, “You alright?”

You turn back to him and almost immediately jump into his arms, mouth open, a whole growing human between the of you, but still you are close. But still, you are kissing.

“Woah…” he huffs. “W-what…what are you…”

“Sorry,” you breathe out. “It’s nothing personal. I’ve just got a lot of blood rushing to a lot of different places and w-what?” you stutter because he’s caressing your face. “Y’know, it’s not like you can get me pregnant. It’s more like a…a favor?”

His eyes scan over your face and he nods, scoops you up in his arms like it’s nothing. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense,” and he carries you into his bedroom.

October | 18 Weeks

The greeting this week is different. In the past few weeks, there’s been a lot more casual texting. A lot of Matthew asking: Hey, how are you feeling today? Do you need anything? Do you have groceries? You appreciate it.

He walks into the waiting room a few minutes after you and you actually stand to say hi.

“Hi, you!” he pips and he gives you a big hug. This time, he is not so shy and he takes a hold of your bump in both his hands, leaning down to say, “Hi, you! What are you doing in there? Woah!”

“Ah,” you groan. “Yeah, kicking the shit out of me. lately. Don’t get her riled up.”

But he pokes at your belly again and those legs come back swinging. He laughs, “Oh, my god, that’s so cool!”

“Yeah, not so much when it’s the middle of the night and it’s directly on your bladder.”

“Oof. Sorry, I should be stern,” he leans down. “Knock it off, kid.” And the kid kicks back.

“Oh! Jesus. Okay, that was…bad. Keep practicing.”

He cackles, “I will.”

In the exam room, the technician asks, “Do you wanna know the gender?” The smile on her face tells you that she already knows.

And as you shout an enthusiastic, “Yes!” Matthew is shaking his head, saying, “No.”

And then there’s silence.

“What…” you chuckle. “What do you mean no?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I kinda just wanna be surprised.”

“Hm…” you furrow your eyebrows. You turn to the technician, “Well, I wanna know, will you put it in an envelope for me?”

This envelope is hand delivered to you at the end of your appointment and you hold it tight in your hands all the way out the door. You tear into it as soon as you step outside and Matthew shouts, “Wait!”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna know! Open it when you’re alone.”

“Okay…” you shrug, putting the envelope in your purse.

The two of you stand there, silent, avoiding eye contact.

“Fine, open it,” he says.

“What?” you laugh. “I thought you didn’t wanna know?”

“I don’t! I don’t. But-but you should know. Open it.”

You roll your eyes at him and take the envelope out of your bag, breaking the seal, flipping it open and showing absolutely no emotion. You rise and fall from the tip of your toes, biting down on your lip.

“Oh, c’mon!” he groans. “What is it? What is it? What is it? Just tell me.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You positive?”

“[y/n]…” he whines.

You chuckle and turn the paper around to face him and his entire expression goes blank.

“A boy?” he whispers. Followed by, “Oh, my god, a boy!” Then, “A boy?” Finally, “A boy…”

You giggle and nod, “A boy.”

Halloween falls on a work day, after which you immediately come home to take a nap. You awake to find missed calls and texts from Matthew, the last of which reads: I’m coming over. You see this just before he rings your doorbell.

You answer and flinch, caught off guard by his costume. His makeup, the whole thing. “Oh…” you say. “You did say you were weird about Halloween.”

“Um, I don’t know if weird is the word I used but…here! For you,” he hands you a bag full of candy and you laugh, taking it from him.

“Thank you.”

“And…also, for you,” and he hands you a pumpkin.

“Oh! Thanks?”

“It’s the exact same weight as the baby. Weighed it myself.”

And your heart just kind of melts. “Aw…that’s so cute…” you hold the thing in your hands and look down at it. “Wow, what? No fucking way that’s in there.” you say in disbelief, holding the pumpkin level with your belly.

The two of you burst into laughter and Matthew sighs, happily exclaming, “Yeah, that’s him.”

November | 22 Weeks

Before your next appointment, Matthew calls you to ask if you’ll spend Thanksgiving with him in Vegas.

“Y’know, I told my family and-and they were…y’know shocked. But, they wanna meet you. I’m sure you already have plans but if you don’t…I’d really love it if you came with me.”

You sit in silence for a second. “I…I don’t have plans. I’ll go.”

“Really?”

“Oh, did you…want me to say no?”

“No,” he laughs. “No. I just thought you would. Um, well, okay, cool! Cool. I’ll book the flight.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Matthew meets you at your place the day before Thanksgiving, greeting you with a hug and a kiss on your belly. “Hey, you ready?”

“Yeah…” you grumble. “I’m all packed, just tired.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Ha…ha…no, thanks.”

“I’m so dead serious. I’ve been lifting weights, gotta train to carry a baby around.”

“I’m telling you, this fucker is heavy.”

He laughs, “Yeah, he looks it already. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Um…” you sigh. “Can you just carry my bags?”

“[y/n].” He looks you in the eye. “I was going to do that anyway.”

You get sick on the plane and the flight attendant gives you ice to chew and a cold rag for your forehead. Matthew is constantly rubbing your leg and fanning you with the safety booklet.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry. What can I do?” he asks.

“Will you be the pregnant one for a little bit?”

“Yes, if that’s what you need.”

His face is serious and you can’t help but laugh, “Fuck you.”

As you drive through the desert, you have to keep your eyes closed to feel peace. You only open them when the car slows down and you arrive at the house.

“Oh, by the way,” Matthew says as he shuts the car off. “My family thinks we’re together. Like dating.”

Your eyes goes wide and you shoot up in your seat, “What? What?” you yell.

“Look, look, I’m sorry! I didn’t know what else to say!”

“Uh, how about I got a little too drunk and horny on a Friday night and put a baby in someone? You don’t lie! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I…ugh! I’m sorry. I know, I know. I will tell them the truth, but not right now. [y/n], please.”

“No.”

“[y/n]…”

“No. Fuck you! How could you wait until we get here to tell me that bullshit? You’re insane!”

“Okay. Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry, let’s just, please go inside and I will fix it.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna go inside now. You pissed me off.”

“Oh, my…” he huffs. “[y/n], please.”

“No!” you cross your arms. “I’m staying in the car.”

Just then, his mom comes rushing out the house, waving to you both from the front door and you have to put on a smile very quickly.

“I will tell them,” he whispers.

“Oh, you fucking better,” you sneer, still smiling. “Or I will.”

You play along as you’re introduced to everyone. You tell them about yourself. You show them the most recent ultrasound, you pig out on all the food just laying around and somehow, along the way, you forget why you were mad.

Until you retire to bed and they have you and Matthew set up in one room. Then, you are pissed all, over, again.

You rush into the shower to avoid him and when you come back out, he’s laying in the bed.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously.

“Fuck you.”

“Okay.”

“Did you tell them?”

“No. I’m sorry. I will.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Matthew.”

“[y/n]-“

“Matthew!”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll tell them now.”

“Yeah.”

Still, he lays there. “I…I pulled out your maternity pillow. All ready for you.”

“Get out the damn bed,” you grumble and he’s up before you lay down. And worse, he just stands there.

You roll over from your side, looking at him. He’s looking at you and his face pisses you off so you shout, “Matthew!”

“Okay!” and he leaves the room.

He comes back in after you’ve fallen asleep but still, half awake, you ask, “Did you tell them?” and you don’t even question it when he lays beside you, cradles you in his arms.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good.”

And you fall asleep just like that.

Thanksgiving goes well, despite the recent news. You practically clear the table yourself because you’re eating for two and one of you is much greedier than the other. You meet Matthew’s dad, who spends the entire evening lulling you into security just to later pull the two of you into a separate room.

Here, the conversation gets legal. And while you were not expecting it, you’re grateful. You hadn’t thought of any of this. Custody, exchange schedules, schools, primary addresses, out-of-state trips. All of it.

His dad finally asks, “And what last name will the baby be taking?”

You say, “[y/l/n],” as Matthew says, “Oh, Gubler, for sure.” And the two of you just slowly turn to look at each other.

“Oh…” he dad says. “You two should probably discuss.”

That discussion lasts well into the night. Through the drive to the airport. Through the flight.

By the time you land, you’ve compromised. You’ll hyphenate.

December | 26 Weeks

Your next appointment is just over a week before Christmas. Matthew agrees then to spend Christmas Eve with you. Your family comes into New York just to keep you from flying yourself. When they arrive, your home is cluttered with boxes and pieces of the crib and a dismantled bassinet and bottles and boxes of diapers and wipes. Your baby shower was a huge success. You and baby boy want for nothing. But you’re big, you’re stressed, you’re aching and you can’t stop crying.

“Baby, let us put the nursery together for you,” you mom suggests.

“No. No, we’ll do it. It’s fine. I want to do it.”

“Okay. Speaking of, is your baby daddy gonna be here any time soon?”

“Yeah, he’s on the way.”

And as if on queue, Matthew walks in and everyone exclaims, “Hey! Baby daddy!”

Your sibling walks up to him immediately and says, “Love Criminal Minds, dude,” and you put your face in your hands.

Matthew gets everything stuffed into the nursery just for now so there’s more space for everyone to move around. He helps your mom with dinner and he doesn’t mind when they poke and prode into his life.

“So, baby daddy, what part of New York are you in?”

“So, baby daddy, is this your first kid?”

“So, baby daddy, do you think you might propose to [y/n] someday?”

“Baby daddy, what’s your net worth?”

And this is not an exaggeration. By the end of the night, he responds to baby daddy like it’s his actual government name and he confesses to you that it makes him uncomfortable.

Standing on your balcony, he wraps a blanket around you and rubs your shoulders, “Y’know, I understand the terminology, definitely. But…damn.”

You cackle, “Well..you are my baby daddy. We’re having a baby together, but were not together, but we have sex sometimes. It fits. Hey, I’m your baby mama!”

“Aw, well…” he sighs. “Thats sweet.” And he grins at you as you burst into laughter.

Your family leaves to stay at a hotel and Matthew stays to make sure you’re okay. You’re pretty fucking exhausted to be honest. So he tucks you into bed and runs his hand over your hair, “You need anything?”

“No. Just sleep.”

“Okay,” he touches your belly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

When you wake up in the morning, your first thought is that you need to eat. You remember some sugar cookies that your mom had brought by last night and you decide to have them for breakfast. You walk to the kitchen and passing by the nursery, you almost don’t notice. Then, you stop in your tracks, tilt your head and walk backwards.

It’s done.

It’s done!

The crib is built, the dresser and changing table are assembled, the mobile’s up and running, the rocking chair is in the corner. Even the wall art you picked out is hanging up.

“Wh-what…” you stutter and then you march to the living room where Matthew is passed out on the couch. “Matthew!” you shout. Still, he doesn’t wake. So you rush over and shake him, going, “Matthew! Matthew!” and he jolts awake.

“What?” he takes hold of your hands. “What? Are you okay? Are you alright?”

“Yes. What…what the hell did you do?”

“What do you mean?” he rasps. “Oh…the nursery? Do you like it?”

“Do I…” you cut yourself off and run back to the nursery, where you wander around the room unable to focus your attention on just one thing.

Matthew follows behind you and watches you from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well?”

“It’s…” you gleam. “Exactly like my pinterest board.”

“Of course it’s exactly like your pinterest board, I’m not insane!” he laughs.

You feel this peace wash over you and you hug your baby bump as you breathe out a slow exhale. You turn to him with a smile and he thinks you’re running to give him a hug. So when you all but tackle him, take him a kiss, push him to the floor, tear off his clothes, it all happens so fast.

When it’s over, you have no bottoms on and your head is laying on his chest. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I should probably stop attacking you like that.”

He chuckles, “No. Don’t. I don’t mind.”

January | 30 Weeks

Your appointments are every two weeks now. This is the time you expected Matthew to miss at least one, but he never does. He’s always there. Even when he’s not with you, he’s always there.

When your insomnia is at its very worst, he facetimes you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” he smiles at the screen. “I knew you’d be up.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Insomnia still kicking your ass?”

“Every night this past week.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, honey,” he frowns. “But since you’re up, I thought we could talk baby names?”

“Oh,” you say. You had forgotten about that. “Oh…right…names.”

“I know, we kinda dropped the ball on that one,” he laughs. “Now, it’s kinda a Gubler tradition that all the boys have the middle name Gray. Y’know, alliteration and all.”

“Oh..that’s…” Boring, you think. “Unoriginal. Can we compromise?”

“Well, I’m already compromising with the hypenating so I don’t know.”

“Oh, good g-“ you roll your eyes. “Sir, you hyphenated like 7 months ago, let it go.” And he lets it go. You add, “I like the name Lincoln. Link.”

“Ooh, no. He used to bully me in school. What about Silas?”

“Yeah, cause he’s a vampire? Veto. I like Noah.”

“Cause he’s building an arc? Veto!”

“Ugh.”

“What about Simon? Y’know I voiced him in the movie.”

You roll your eyes, again. “Yes. We know. Veto.”

Silence falls over the call as you both rack your brains for another suggestion. And like a domino, it naturally falls into your mind, “Theodore?” you shrug.

Matthew smiles, “Teddy?”

“Aw!” you squeal. “Teddy Gray…” you say aloud and then a tear falls from your eye and then you’re full blown sobbing in front of the camera. “Teddy Gray, that’s it. That’s his name.”

And Matthew is freaked out because he’s never seen you cry before. Ever. Not at the doctor, not in the nursery, he’s never had the pleasure of meeting your hormones face to face quite like this. “Yeah…” he chokes out a sob. “That’s it,” he wipes his eyes. “Fuck, why am I crying?”

“Oh, why would you be, you fucking freak?” you shout and he thinks it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said.

Suddenly, your doorbell rings and it silences you, scares you. “What the fuck?” you whisper. “Is that you?”

“Nope. I had something delivered.”

“What? Right now?”

“Just a little cinnamon roll and a milkshake, but I can tell them to leave if you don’t want it?”

“Oh, my god,” you rush out of bed and immediately waddle to the door, “You’re amazing. I wanna have your baby.”

February | 34 Weeks

Your customized pillows and blankets have come in the mail. They all say Teddy and his baby book says it too. It is perfect. It’s your son. At your last appointment, he weighed about 7 pounds and you certainly feel every ounce weighing you down.

But for Teddy, it’s worth it.

For now, you’re still going to work and taking an afternoon nap for survival. Matthew jokes all the time that you can quit your job whenever you’d like. That he can take care of you both, just say the word. That was never the deal, but you appreciate it.

When you arrive home on Valentine’s Day, you’re just getting settled when your doorbell rings. You look through the peep hole and the delivery man is holding the largest vase of roses you’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” he greets you. “[y/n] [y/l/n]?”

“Yes,” you nod and take the roses in your arms. “Thank you.”

He hands you a tiny bag and you carry everything inside, setting them down on the table.

“One more thing,” he tells you and when you turn around, it is a teeny, tiny vase of snipped roses. The vase is personalized with the name Teddy.

“Aw,” you want to cry but you can’t do it in front of this random man. So only when he leaves, you let the tears fall and you set Teddy’s vase near in the window in his room. You leave your flowers on the living room table and take a small jewelry box out of the bag. Inside, are the most gorgeous pair of ruby pendant earrings and you audibly gasp.

The card accompanying it all reads: Sorry I can’t be with you and Teddy today, but I’m thinking about you both. I’m always thinking about you.

Happy Valentine’s Day, baby mama!!

M

March | 37 Weeks

“Any day now, [y/n],” your doctor beams, rolling the wand around on your belly. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you nod. “Excited. Scared. I didn’t give it much thought about how I was gonna get him out of there.”

Her and Matthew laugh, Matthew holding your hand like it’s No Big Deal.

“You’re gonna do great. You’re right on track for your due date, but it’s possible you’ll start feeling some contractions in the next week or two. If you notice them coming really close together or your water breaks, I want you to put that birthing plan in motion, okay?”

“Okay,” you and Matthew say in unison. It would’ve annoyed you before. Now you just smile at him because you think it’s cute.

Matthew escorts you back home and he’s hoping you’ll settle in and maybe rest. You don’t. You end up in the nursery, walking around like maniac. There is absolutely nothing to do. Nothing to move. Nothing to fix. Still, your brain tells you there must be something.

“Honey, honey,” he calls, taking you by the hand and guiding you to the couch. “Come lay down, please. Everything is all set.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he laughs. “You’re just nesting, I read about it online.”

“Oh, you and your baby google.”

“There really is so much out there!”

You roll your eyes, smiling as he covers you with a blanket. “You still going to Vegas this weekend? For your birthday?”

“Oh, no. No, I think I’m just gonna stay in New York.”

“What? Why? I thought your mom was planning a whole thing for you? You can’t miss it.”

“Well, I don’t wanna miss Teddy coming either. I don’t wanna leave you alone like that. The doctor said any day now.”

“Yeah, but, she also said it could be well over another week before I start contracting.”

He sighs, visibly anxious.

“Hey, look,” you pull him into your arms. “I appreciate you wanting to be here, I really do, but I want you to enjoy your birthday and I highly, highly doubt this kid is planning on escaping any time soon. Plus, my friend will be here if anything happens so, just, go, baby daddy, we’ll be fine.”

He sighs, “Fine. But you’ll call me if anything happens?”

“I will call you.”

“Immediately?”

“Immediately!”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

March 9 | 37 Weeks and 6 Days

The eve of Matthew’s birthday, you get roughly four hours of sleep. You rise with the sun and sit in Teddy’s room, folding his clothes, piling them in his dresser.

You friend wanders in, having just woken up herself and she sighs, “What the hell are you doing, crazy lady?”

“Nothing.”

“This nursery looks like it’s straight out of Architectural Digest. There’s nothing else to do, why don’t you go lay down?”

“Why is everyone always wanting me to lay down?”

“Because you’re carrying a human maybe? Duh?”

“I’m fine. I feel fine. I need to check on the bottles and make sure I have the right sized nipples because I’m not sure…”

“[y/n], you have all the nipples in the world. The ones, the twos, the threes, the ones on your tits. It’s fine!”

“I’m just checking!” And as you step towards the kitchen, you suddenly stop in your tracks, grab onto your crotch in shock.

“[y/n]?” you friend rushes to your side. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I…I, um, I think I just pissed myself?”

“Wh-what? Pissed yourself or did your water break?”

You look up at her in fear, “Oh my god.”

“I’ll get the hospital bag.”

“Oh my god.”

“Get some pants and shoes on, dude!”

“Oh my god,” you repeat. “I-I have to call Matthew.”

So you do. You do. Just in the knick of fucking time, your name pops up on his phone and he quickly grabs his luggage and sprints off the plane that was doomed to take off any second.

When he arrives at the hospital, he bursts into the room at full speed, thinking he’s already missed everything. Thinking it’s over. He finds you bouncing on a birthing ball and you grin at him.

“Hi, baby daddy!” you huff. “Happy birthday!”

“Hi! Hi…” he walks up to you, takes your hands in his although you do not stop bouncing. He kisses the top of your head, “Are you okay? How far along are you?”

“Three centimeters,” you pant. “And I am not getting off of this ball until it’s 10!”

“Okay, well, you have to take a break at some point. Do you need some water?”

“Nope! Just need to bounce.”

You last, maybe, five more minutes and then you need to lay down. Except you can’t. Because your contractions are ridiculous and you can never get comfortable and you end up on all fours in the bed, crying and groaning.

And three hours later, you are only 5 centimeters dilated.

Matthew lays in the bed beside you, patting your face with a rag, feeling absolutely useless. “What can I do, [y/n]? Tell me what to do.”

You cry and squeeze his hand until this contraction passes. You pant, “Y-y’know…I’ve heard sometimes…when a baby won’t come out…p-people….sometimes…”

“What? What do they do?”

“They…y’know…”

He is still confused.

“Like!” you shout in frustration. “Like, what gets the baby in also gets the baby out!”

It clicks, “Oh!” he exclaims. “Oh. Will that…will that hurt him?”

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. “But he’ll sure as shit get the message.”

And so, two fingers, ten minutes and six big pushes later, Theodore Gray [y/l/n]-Gubler is born. He weighs eight pounds, five ounces but he feels so heavy in your arms.

Finally in your arms.

Matthew, like a big baby himself, can’t stop crying. Can’t stop looking at him. Can’t stop kissing your face, “Look at him! He’s beautiful! You did it! Oh, my god, [y/n]! Look what you did!”

Teddy is truly the best birthday gift Matthew has ever gotten.

Two days later, you’re discharged from the hospital. Matthew arranged for a car to drive you home and he installs the car seat himself. He pushes you out in a wheelchair, despite your frequent protests, and gets Teddy buckled in. He then helps you and into the car before sliding in on the opposite side of the car seat.

You cover Teddy with his blanket and touch your fingertips to his face. He’s fast asleep, but this little grin forms on his face and the two of you chuckle.

“Hey,” you coo to him. “Hey, mister man, what are you doing? Huh? You…really don’t look a thing like me.”

Matthew cackles, “Yeah. Yeah, that seems to be the general consensus.”

He follows behind you with the car seat as you unlock your front door and lead them inside.

“Should we…I mean, do we just let him sleep?” he asks you.

“Until he’s hungry, yeah,” you nod, taking Teddy from his carrier. “Oh, hi…” you whisper to him. “Hi, mister man, you wanna lay in your bed? Hm?”

You place him in his crib and he doesn’t make a sound. Doesn’t make a move. Matthew plops down on the floor, legs crisscrossed and you sit right beside him.

“He’s so fucking cool,” he tells you.

You giggle, “The coolest.”

The two of you could stare at him all day. You will.

“Is it still okay if spend the night?” he asks.

You look up at him with a smile, “Yes, we’d like that very much,” and you put your head on his shoulder.

His kisses your forehead softly, saying, “Cool.”

[differentnerddiplomatopera]

incorrect Odydiopen quotes

Odysseus: I’m not casual, I will kill us both. Just a reminder.

Odysseus: What do you mean killing is not an act of devotion?

Odysseus: Gas? I lit that. Gate? I kept that. Girl? I boss that

Penelope: He couldn’t even if he tried.

Penelope: “I could fix him” actually my type of man is the one who commits atrocities in the name of love

Odysseus to Palamedes: if you ever disrespect me, and I was chill about that, your death day draws nigh.

Odysseus: forgive and forget? Hell no, resent and remember 

Penelope: When I go out in public, do people look at me like “omg that girl is so pretty and normal?”

Odysseus: Absolutely

Penelope: Good, the facade still works

Odysseus to Diomedes: Choke me sexually or lethally, I don’t have a preference 

Penelope: I got too excited while playing chess and told my opponent that I was going to slit his throat and slaughter him like a hog. Something to work on for next time.

Odysseus to Diomedes: it is not enough for you to simply be gay for us to build intimacy together; you must also beat me in a game of wits

Telemachus: Father, what is dad doing?

Diomedes: we’re making your dad do a mating dance to do something 

Telemachus: oh? What is he trying to do?

Diomedes: well he is-

Penelope: NOOOOO-NO-NO-NO NO

Diomedes:…..

Telemachus:……

Penelope: Baby I know you can be dense sometimes, so I gotta stop you

Odysseus: can I quit now?

Penelope: Once I heard Diomedes ask Odysseus if something was safe and Odysseus said probably.

Penelope: I have never moved from one room to the other so fast in my entire life.

Diomedes: I am so glad to sleep in an actual bed,

Penelope: (joking) what, were the tent’s that bad?

Diomedes: OMG, let me tell you. Odysseus used to set up alarm systems in our tent today to alert us of people’s presence. Athena forbid, I try to piss, and Odysseus tries to stab me.

Penelope: …

Diomedes: Yeah, the war with your husband was really fucking fun.

Penelope: (snickering)

Diomedes: Oh my- I’m leaving.

Penelope: (Cackling) wait no I’m sorry, come back! 

Young Penelope: I want two boyfriends, and I want the boyfriends to be boyfriends & and I want to be their girlfriend & and I want the boyfriends to take me out on little boyfriend dates where we’re all boyfriends and girlfriend.

Older Penelope: Fucking yessssssssss, let’s gooooooo!

Diomedes: you guys really ruined my plans to brood for the rest of my life and be angsty and sad.

Odysseus and Penelope: (kissing him) yOuR WeLcOMe!!

Odysseus: Penelope, when in the midst of the war, I laid with Diomedes.

Penelope: Boy, if you don’t spill the tea right the fuck now

Odysseus: Bitchhhhh, I got you

Penelope: I need details, be very descriptive 

Odysseus: Ok so, when he-

Penelope: Hey, you wanna bring things up to the bedroom?

Diomedes: Sure…what’s up there?

Odysseus: By the way did you bring protection?

Diomedes: *wielding his dagger* WHY WHAT’S UP THERE?!?

[paymechildsupport]

I should have really been in bed five hours ago, but these leaks make me wanna commit heinous acts and I just gotta do something about this Sukuna pic cuz erm… just :3

He’s just so….. <3

EHEHEHHEHEHEHEH I don’t know what it is but the idea of having such a powerful, destructive man just down at my feet is so intoxicating jsjshdbdbdb

Just imagine his humongous form in your sheets in the latest hours of midnight— just an amalgamation of limbs on your bedspread

Drowsy and drunk off sleepiness, fighting off exhaustion in that soft cushiony state between consciousness with his big arms swallowing your much tinier body up, head on your chest

You’d absentmindedly run your fingers through his wolf hair, nails scraping his scalp in such a way to elicit tiny sounds of contentment

He in no way would be silent: bro will be sighing and huffing and even just purring occasionally,- exactly like an old cat or dog. You’d feel every noise vibrate, bouncing around in his large chest, pressed against your torso

The second you fall asleep and cease to shower him in affection he’d immediately get incredibly offended

He’d take it personally, and man’s can hold a NASTY GRUDGE (look what he’s doing to poor Yuji 😭)

He’d let out a rather audible, “hmph”, and make a show of pulling himself off of you, making sure he woke you up

“How dare you, pathetic mortal”

HE’D SULK

He’d be both very bluntly aggressive but also passive aggressive in every. Single. Thing.

He is entitled to your time, your attention, your affection, your every waking thought should be dedicated to him and him alone. He should be first priority over everything

JAJSJDBBDBS Y’know how in like superhero movies the villain sometimes has this really adorable cliché where they are this absolutely brutal, horrible monster whose committed numerous misdeeds but have a wife / spouse they treasure above all else? Like, they’ll be in the middle of explaining their plans of world domination when their wife all of a sudden calls out that dinner’s ready, — and then all of a sudden the villain is this esteemed gentleman who’s just really really excited to have some lasagna his darling wife made for dinner?? They really just wanna keep their spouse outta all the crime and such cuz they know they hate it and always get scolded for it.

yeah, that’s the only way I’ve been coping for these past leaks 🥶

Sukuna would be in the middle of nuking the map when all of a sudden you pull up

He’d be talking all high and mighty, saying how he’d obliterate and kill all of Yuji’s loved ones when suddenly he hears his name get called out and he’d just FREEZE.

“Quick, act like I didn’t just murder your closest kin like three minutes ago.”

”what? Why??”

“Because my spouse is here and they’ll actually skin me alive if they see me like this 😡��- hey honey ☺️ how’s it going..?”

Like tensing up, eyes bulging, lip quivering, sweating BULLETS, the most scared anyone’s ever seen him. Immediately dropping everything, disregarding the accumulating mass of cursed energy he’d been saving up for the past twenty minutes, to turn around and give you his best, most charming smile

You’d just walk up to him and like, grab him by the ear, yanking him down to your level to curse the ever living daylights outta him

“Stop going out and bullying teenagers 🤬 you miserable old man I swear—“

And he’d just stand there and TAKE IT. You’d scold him exactly like a disappointed mother, personally escorting him off the battlefield and profusely apologizing to Yuji for your husband’s actions

He’d just be all sad, walking away and dragging his feet, moping, back hunched, hand holding yours 😭🤏 and leaving an incredibly confused Yuji

And then you adopt Yuji and Sukuna stops being a grumpy old man and my boy gets his happily ever after and we all hug it out :3

[uselesslexbian]

the tortured poets department sentence starters.

i was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me.

i love you, it's ruining my life.

my husband is cheating. i wanna kill him.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

who's gonna hold you like me?

who's gonna know you, if not me?

sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.

everyone we know understands why it's meant to be. 'cause we're crazy.

who else is gonna know me?

i should've known it was a matter of time.

we could've played for keeps this time.

once i fix me, he's gonna miss me.

he told me i'm better off, but i'm not.

fuck it if i can't have him.

i might just die, it would make no difference.

fuck it if i can't have us.

'cause fuck it, i was in love.

i stopped trying to make him laugh.

how much sad did you think i had in me?

you say i abandoned the ship, but i was going down with it.

just how low did you think i'd go before i'd self-implode?

you swore you love me, but where were the clues?

i'm just mad as hell 'cause i loved this place.

i forget if this was ever fun.

no, i'm not coming to my sense.

i know he's crazy, but he's the one i want.

i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning.

i'll tell you something about my good name - it's mine alone to disgrace.

you ain't gotta pray for me.

no, you can't come to the wedding.

it's gonna be alright, i did my time.

i will never lose my baby again.

ain't no way i'm gonna screw up now that i know what's at stake.

they said i was a cheat. i guess it must be true.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

tell me i'm dispicable, say it's unforgivable.

am i allowed to cry?

i keep recalling things we never did.

someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts.

if it's make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

they're gonna crucify me anyway.

what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?

you don't get to tell me about "sad."

if you wanted me dead, you should've just said.

who's afraid of little old me?

at all costs, keep your good name.

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

so tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is?

say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did?

i'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?

i'm fearsome, and i'm wretched, and i'm wrong.

you caged me, and then you called me crazy.

i am what i am 'cause you trained me.

i can fix him. no really, i can.

come close, i'll show you heaven.

trust me, i can handle me a dangerous man.

you said i'm the love of your life.

well, you took me to hell, too.

what we thought was for all time was momentary.

are they second-hand embarrassed that i can't get out of bed 'cause something counterfeit's dead?

you're the loss of my life.

i can handle my shit.

he said he'd love me all his life, but that life was too short.

i can do it with a broken heart.

i'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague.

i cry a lot, but i am so productive. it's an art.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i'm sure i can pass this test.

they said, "babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and i did.

'cause i'm miserable! and nobody even knows!

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

they just ghosted you. now you know what it feels like.

i don't even want you back.

you didn't measure up in any measure of a man.

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?

'cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden.

i would've died for your sins. instead i just died inside.

i'll forget you, but i'll never forgive.

i haven't come around in so long, but i'm making a comeback to where i belong.

this town is fake, but you're the real thing.

the crown is stained, but you're the real queen.

you're the new god we're worshipping.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters Meet Non-Cosmere Sanderson Characters

As requested by anon. :)

Namely, Sanderson characters from non-Cosmere works I've actually read, aka Skyward and Frugal Wizard.

1. Ryan Chu (Frugal Wizard) and Amaram (Stormlight)

Ryan: What DOES Sanderson have against handsome, highly competent people? Amaram: I don't know. He just hates us. Ryan: Are we too good at our jobs? Amaram: Are we too handsome? Ryan: Too good with the ladies? Amaram: Too effective in battle? Ryan: Is it that we maybe slightly screw over his precious main character while working on something greater? Amaram: He's SUCH an unforgiving author.

2. Jorgen & Spensa (Skyward) and Vin & Elend (Mistborn)

Vin (narrowing her eyes at Jorgen): You look like a man from a highly wealthy, politically influential background who has a strained relationship with his father, especially after you fall in love with a badass, combative woman from the "wrong" side of society who has special powers needed to save the day. Spensa (narrowing her eyes at Vin): And I'm getting the sense that you had to fight really hard for everything in your life but never gave up, and that you didn't like your man initially because he seemed wealthy and stuck up but eventually you realized that he matched your freak pretty exactly. Jorgen: Oh wow, we definitely need to set up a double date! Elend: Did we just become best friends?

3. Cobb (Skyward) and Harmony (Mistborn)

Cobb: ...and it's honestly horrible, constantly loading children into that munitions chamber to be spent into empty shells. Harmony: I know what you mean. Every time I cannot act, I have to call upon Wax to be my gun once again. Cobb: And then they go out... Harmony: And then he goes out... Cobb: And they die! Harmony: And he kills tons of people! Cobb: ... Harmony: ... Cobb: I think you got your metaphor backwards there, friend. Harmony: I think it's you.

4. John (Frugal Wizard) and Painter (Yumi)

John: [holds out his hand for a fist bump] John: Fellow loser protagonist? My man. Painter: I-I'M NOT FIST BUMPING TO THAT

5. Kimmalyn (Skyward) and Adolin (Stormlight)

Adolin: It can be tough to be the most emotionally intelligent person in the cast, huh? Kimmalyn: Tough? I dunno about that! I like being able to help my friends! Adolin: I mean, me too! Adolin: But we're both so friendly and mostly upbeat that I think people sometimes forget we have our own problems. Kimmalyn: Yeah...I missed some shots that haunted me for a long time... Adolin: And I stabbed a guy through the eye in an alley. Kimmalyn: Well, bless your stars!

6. Sefawynn (Frugal Wizard) and Demoux (Mistborn/Stormlight)

Demoux: Off-worlders giving you a hard time? Sefawynn: I'm sorry? Demoux: People from other worlds? Coming to your planet and messing everything up? Sound familiar? Sefawynn: My husband is from another world. Sefawynn: I would not say that he "messed things up." He helped save us. Demoux: [Crumping up a Seventeenth Shard pamphlet in frustration] How great for you.

7. Spensa (Skyward) and Jasnah (Stormlight Archive)

Jasnah: So these "Cytonic" abilities of yours give you access to the "Nowhere." Spensa: That's right. Why? Jasnah: Which is some kind of extra-dimensional space that exists alongside your "normal" space where time is strange and timeless creatures exist? Spensa: The Delvers, yeah. Jasnah: You are basically a sci-fi Eslecaller. Spensa: ... Spensa: A what?

8. M-Bot (Skyward) and Nightblood (Warbreaker/Stormlight)

M-Bot: Hiiii! Nightblood: Hello!!! M-Bot: I can already tell that you're a kindred spirit. Nightblood: Yeah!! M-Bot: Do you want to read my ongoing work "The Greater Argument for Human Origination Chaos" (GAFHOC)? Nightblood: Well I don't think I can read, but you can tell me about? M-Bot: My main thesis is that "humans are weird." Nightblood: ...And evil? M-Bot: No, gotta go with "weird." Weird creatures, humans. Nice. Squishy sometimes. But weird. Nightblood: Mmmm...I think you're missing the "evil" part. Nightblood: I was created to destroy evil, you know! M-Bot: I was created to document mushrooms! Maybe! Nightblood: Does the "M" stand for Mushrooms? M-Bot: Yes! Or possibly "massacre" according to Spensa. Nightblood: Ooooh, I like "massacre." Massacre is cooler than mushrooms! M-Bot: Uh, you haven't seen my very cool mushrooms. Nightblood: Well, let's see them. M-Bot: I love having a friend!

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Things Inupiaq culture doesn't traditionally have:

Kings/royalty (requiring tribute from the people you lead is seen as tyranical and tyrants are killed when possible)

A cash economy (dentallium shells were valued by many other cultures and sometimes were used as money in international trade, but not among fellow Inupiat)

Agriculture (we are traditionally a hunter-gatherer people seasonally following the herds, fish, and ripening greens and berries)

Corporal punishment (you aren't even supposed to yell at people or even scold children)

Slavery (you could argue this one since women were sometimes captured and taken as wives; but this is typically regarded as an ancient and morally questionable practice. The Inupiat didn't believe in owning people or their labor, only at best associating through marriage, blood relation, or wife-exchange)

Primogeniture as a hard-fast rule (Inupiat culture was traditionally patriarchal so a son may inherit his father's status as a family patriarch if he is already a father at this time, but material inheritence was not guaranteed to work that way)

A written language (historians were assigned to memorize records, family trees, and the like)

Human or animal sacrifices (would be considered cruel and wasteful)

Formal vs informal language (socio-economic class is mutable and does not affect language)

Gendered pronouns (our language uses pronouns to indicate tone of a sentence the way many languages use pronunciation, as well as relationship between subject and object in complex sentences and in all cases whether the subject is singular, dual, or plural and if the sentence is in first, second, or third person. An absolute fuckton of pronouns and none of them are gendered)

Raw meat taboo (except in the case of pregnancy; the arctic climate means the weather was not too far off from refrigerator or freezer temperatures, if not colder, and underground storage was often placed around frozen methane deposits known as permafrost)

Dog meat taboo (dogs were helpful as beasts of burden or sometimes hunting companions but when there's a famine you gotta eat what you can)

Many ceremonies taken for granted (for example, if a man and woman mutually agreed they were married, that was the only wedding required. We had big celebrations for survival, and women got incredible face tattoos for coming of age, but many lifestages were celebrated more low-key with little pomp and circumstance)

Shirts (you didn't wear anything underneath your atigi, and if it was too warm for it, you took it off. Yes, even women. Presbyterian missionaries thought we were godless sluts for our tits out ways)

Virginity marriage requirement (it was best if a woman hadn't had sex before but only because we lived in small communities and you have to keep track of bloodlines. Having sex didn't make girls unclean or impure and unwed mothers were taken care of by their families and weren't stigmatized)

Required monogomy (men could have multiple wives and women could have multiple husbands, wife exchange was a means of fostering allegiance, and the main problem with cheating is that it involved lying and prioritizing pleasure over duties like making sure your husband doesn't fall to his death while hunting. In stories about cheating and revenge, the cheater and retaliating jealous partner are both depicted as in the wrong)

There are more, but these i feel provide a pretty good basic idea of the culture. You can use these bits of info as Water Tribe worldbuilding inspo if you want, but i won't pester you into it. I just think my culture is neat and wanted to share ^-^

[nysus-temple]

Apollo & Dionysus [Part 1]

MAN. not sure if i know what i'm doing, they're very complicated and this won't be my only essay about them. But I've been delaying this essay for way too long, to a point in which I was close to crying about it.

Hope you enjoy, in any case, how i give you all the connections, both good and bad, of my favourite god figures from the Greek Folklore.

1. Karneia [Καρνεῖα].

One of Dionysus' main characteristics is how he's depicted with horns. It's part of his identity as a god, it's horns what (according to the Orphic hymns) made him look like Persephone's son. you can't take away his horns and pretend he's still Dionysus. Euripides knew that well.

Apollo, on the other hand, not many are aware that he sometimes was represented with horns, as well ! This festival, held mainly in Sparta, was to honor Apollo (and a couple of other gods but, he was the star of the show).

The reasons for why this festival was held vary; like Pausanias saying it was to calm him down so he wouldn't send a plague.

But, you see, the main reason this festival is mentioned here: the Spartans would stop any military activity to honor a horned Apollo, he resembled Dionysus during that time. And not only that, but he also was related with vines during it, and that's Dionysus sacred plant. Just like the laurel (or bay, i think it's called in English) is the sacred tree of Apollo.

Seeing Apollo with that plant, and harvesting grapes while having horns, has a strong conection to what Dionysus is.

2. Delphi's Oracle.

It's still Apollo's Oracle, wether Dionysus kept it while he was gone at Hyperborea or not. He killed Python, Gaia's big-ass snake, in order to get it.

But.

While Apollo had to leave during the winter time to go to Hyperborea, it was Dionysus OF ALL GODS the one who kept Delphi, and thus, his festivals were celebrated there.

On one side of the main temple, you could see Apollo with his twin sister, Artemis, and his mother, Leto.

And on the other side, it was Dionysus.

Dionysus wasn't related to prophecies, at all. Maenads did shenanigans during the time Apollo wasn't there.

But it's, you know... Interesting, that Apollo's most important oracle was kept by Dionysus during the time that he wasn't there.

With this, you should think "then, they're in good terms, right?" Yeah, well, they're supposed to be, there's nothing stating that they have a bad relationship, it's the other way around, actually !

But the next point... Is gonna leave us all confused.

3. Orpheus.

Or, as i like to call it:

And my favourite part of this essay, gotta say !

Orpheus brought many cults to the Greeks, according to Pausanias. Like the Eleusinian Demeter one, for example. And not to forget, Orphism gets his name from him, as well as the Orphic Hymns, obviously.

But, apparently, besides doing all that, at the end of his life, he claimed to not care about any gods, not even Dionysus, the main figure of Orphism, that weren't Apollo.

And his death was explained in a lost play of Aeschylus, one that two different writers describe; Eratosthenes and Pausanias, so pick your favourite:

P: 1. the maeneads saw Orpheus refusing to worship Dionysus, and killed him.

E: 2. Or, the interesting one: Dionysus saw that Orpheus devoted himself to Apollo and Apollo only, and got... Jealous. Jealous of his devotion to Apollo.

He was the one who started Orphism, the one who wrote many hymns for him. Seeing him being devoted to someone else than him apparently wasn't a good move. In this version he sent the maeneads to kill him, they didn't go for their own will, which makes it more peculiar.

I'm not writting down Ovid's version because it doesn't fucking count.

Plato also says some odd thingy, that "the gods imposed on Orpheus the punishment of dying at the hands of women for not having had the courage to die for love like Alcestis, daughter of Pelias, who had died in the place of her husband Admetus." ... Which, yeah, sure, I guess, whatever you say, buddy. We have to keep in mind Plato's texts are more related to philosophy than anything.

People always say it's Apollo the one who was envious of Dionysus' talents and parties, (for... some reason i guess) specially knowing how he had two of his muses related to him (tragedy and comedy) due to Dionysus being, after all, the god of theatre.

But, surprise ! It was the other way around. Dionysus was jealous of Orpheus' devotion to Apollo. "If you won't devote yourself to me, you won't devote yourself to anyone".

And, well, either because the sources didn't survive or because he wasn't considered his son in these versions, Apollo didn't do anything. In fact, we never see him doing anything towards Dionysus.

So, what now, Nysus? What was their relationship exactly, after all of this?

It's... Complicated !! Okay !!! This needs more research from my part, plus we all should keep in mind that, while all the authors mentioned here were Greek, they were different guys. You always need to keep in mind the place, person, era... All of that, before starting to judge how a dynamic between two gods work.

( If you enjoy my badly-written posts, please consider buying me a kofi ! You're not forced to, though, but please, reblog this post at least if you are gonna leave a like ! 💕 That's what will motivate me to keep working on my essays )

[drewdrop7]

Summary:Adam wants to marry m!reader and asks him before going to battle the Hazbin Hotties

Warning: sad post

He left a halo shaped hole in my heart

You wake up as the warmth next to you is gone.

“Babe?” You call out.

You open your eyes and the first man is gone. You hear the shower running in the bathroom. You sigh and go lay on his pillow which smells just like him. You let out a yawn as you start to close your eyes once more.

“Hey babes do you know where my robe is?” you hear Adam ask

You open your eyes and look at the brunette. He’s standing there with a towel around his waist and his hair damp. My God does he look like a masterpiece as droplets run down his chest.

“No but you can bring that sexy ass back to bed.” You open your arms to the first man.

“Very tempting but I got to go kill these fuckers. Don’t you remember we moved up the fucking extermination? Gotta get these fucking bitches.” Adam says.

You sigh since you hate when he goes down to hell. You know he’s having some sort of beef with Lucifer’s daughter but you hoped for once he didn’t have to go with the exterminators. For once you wish he’d let Lute take charge and stay in heaven with you. You know your boyfriend is strong but always fear for his safety.

“Let me iron it before you go.” You get out of bed.

You are just wearing shorts and no shirt. Adam loves seeing you shirtless. He always tells you how divine your body is.

“fuck yeah that’s my sexy house husband.” Adam says before slapping your ass.

You look at him before pointing at your ringless finger.

“If you are going to call me your husband you better put a ring on it.” you inform him.

Adam grabs your hand and kisses it. He looks into your eyes lovingly.

“Babes you know I want to fucking marry you. You want to be the first man’s first husband? You going to claim the OG dick?” Adam asks

“First husband? Baby I’m going to be your only husband.” You smile at your boyfriend.

Sometimes you think he’s ridiculous but he’s yours and you wouldn’t want him any other way.

“How about when I come back we make it official?” Adam asks giving you that dashing smile of his.

“Wait, are you being serious Adam?” You ask shocked

“Fuck babe I want to marry you. Just say yes.” Adam says holding your hands in his.

He looks at you with those beautiful golden eyes. You can see worry flash his eyes since you are taking a second to process he wants to marry you. After two failed marriages he was ready for hopefully the last marriage.

“Yes Adam. I will marry you.” you answer before kissing his worries away.

He holds you close and deepens the kiss. His hands roam your body and you pull away. You wish you can stay in his arms all day.

“I’m going to iron your robe right now. Faster you finish down in hell the faster I get to marry you.” you smile at him

He gives you one more quick kiss before letting you go. You iron his robe happily making sure there is no wrinkles. Adam stands by watching you. He has a huge smile on his face. Adam has never had a healthy relationship until you. He thinks he finally got it right. He can’t wait to get back to you.

“okay all good. I love you Adam.” you smile at him.

“I love you too (y/n) so fucking much. I’ll show you how much when I come back. I promise” he said smirking

You smile and peck his lips and let him get ready. You plan on having a nice meal ready for him when he comes back since he’s always hungry when he returns.

After a few hours you are waiting for Adam. He should have been home already. You sigh and turn off the candles you lit. You run your hand through your hair. You hear a rapid banging at the door. That’s not Adam because he’ll usually slam open the door and make the most theatric entrance every time. You are so confused but you go and open it. You see a distraught Lute there. She’s missing an arm and you see blood on her. You have never seen fear in her eyes until today.

“Lute? what’s wrong? where’s Adam?” you ask looking around confused.

Then you notice it.His halo in her hand. Your heart sinks and you feel sick to your stomach.

“No.” you gasp

“I’m sorry, I-I let him down. That demon came out of nowhere.” Lute said tearing up.

You fall to the ground and let out the most heart breaking cry. Your one true love, he’s gone. You were suppose to marry that man. Lute looks at you and bends down to hug you. She promised Adam she’d look after you as he was dying. That’s why he smiled at her because he knew she’d keep her promise.

[finnickfan8]

“Thank you”

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort and smut

Warnings: smut, mentions of trafficking (very brief)

Your husband never slept well, so when he did you knew not to interrupt his one sense of peace. You loved hearing his soft snores and little noises as he nuzzled against you. Sometimes he would talk in his sleep babbling on about nothing, that’s how you knew Finnick, your Finnick is in a state of serenity.

His skin was velvet despite the scars and callouses that add a nice contrast in texture to the cashmere of his sun-kissed skin. His ambrosial scent was intoxicating and it filled your nose and then your mind with bliss.

The angelic man began to stir, his breath become more ragged and unsynchronized with your own. Finnick’s once somewhat swarthy knuckles became pale as he clutched the sheets near your waists. His nose twitched and his mouth dropped to let out a little ‘no.’ Finnick was in danger you knew it.

You stroked his messy tufts out of his face and shushed him, hoping to lull him back to sleep. To your avail he tosses over before flailing back in to you. You hold him still and start humming lullabies to him. “Shhhhh Finny, it’s me. It’s Y/N. You’re safe and I’m safe.” He starts to wake up and raises his tear stained face from your chest.

“We gotta go, the Jabber Jays, they have your screams. I’m so sorry.” He cries in to you, clutching your shirt. “I’m supposed to be here for you and here your ‘strong’ husband is, whining in your eyes like a child.” His sobs continue, the emasculation furthering as he cries in to you.

“Shhhhh, Finn, you know that’s not true. I love how you comfort me.” you pull his head up to look at you as tears rush from his sea green orbs. “Now it’s my turn to comfort you. What’s wrong, handsome?” He breaks eye contact and sits up.

“I saw them. The people i’ve killed, the people i’ve been sold to, and you. What I had done to them, the terrible, horrible things, was being done to you.” He pulls you up to sit between his legs, stroking his fingers through it, separating strands. “You were alone in the games, Jabber Jays screaming at you as the tributes took their turns taking a go at you in both ways. I stood there unable to do anything.” He shuddered a bit, braiding your hair to try to calm himself down.

“That would never happen, you have always protected me.” You smiled weakly at the love of your life, trying to reassure him but not knowing how. His hands go from your hair to your thighs, running them up and down.

“You’re always here for me and I want to thank you.” He trailed off, playing with the seams of your shorts. “Only if you want me to, because consent is very important.” He smiles down at you, kissing your forehead.

“You don’t have to use your body to thank me, Finnick. I wouldn’t marry you if all I liked was your body.” You were sure this was something he was taught to do in The Capitol, and you didn’t want him to feel like he had to.

“No, please.” He looked at you with glossy eyes. “I want to thank you this way. What do you say, Love?” You nod happily, knowing he did enjoy making you happy. Before you knew it, you were strewn in the middle of the bed and legs on Finnicks shoulders as his tongue took a lap around the inner edge of your labia.

Long strokes of his tongue went around the edge of your cunt as he avoided your clit, teasing you. A strangled moan escaped you as he flicked his tongue against your clit before going back to making zigzags across your pussy with a flat tongue.

His tongue dips in, slightly, just rimming you. His actions were so painfully teasing. “Please Finnick.” you whined, grabbing a fistful of his hair. Finnick obliged, kissing your clit gently. He started to suck and roll his tongue over the small bud. The way he used his mouth drove you crazy, within minutes, your legs were shaking and you were mewling.

“You look so pretty.” Finnick breathed out before kissing your cunt, looking up as you as he inched his long finger in to you. You moaned his name, feeling the stretch of his finger gliding in to your walls. “You’re doing so well.”

He starts to move his finger inside of you, slowly in and out as his thumb circles your clit. his mouth starts to kiss up to your breasts, taking one in his mouth and gently circling the nipple of the other. His thumb on your delicate nipple, flicked it up and down as he desperately sucked your other breast.

He pulls off with a ‘pop’ and adds another finger. Your cunt clenches around him as his nimble fingers find your spongy G spot. Finnick abuses that spot, hitting it over and over until you’re begging him.

“Please Finnick, it’s so good you’re so good. ” You choke out and he grunts in response. He was so focused on making you cum. He switched which hand was in you and moved the other, slightly lubricated one, to your nipple, toying it up and down.

“You’re so perfect baby, come on show me how good I make you feel.” His mouth lands back on to your clit, sending you over the edge.

You moan out, tugging at Finnick’s bronze locks as he relentlessly shoves his fingers in to you at a seemingly supersonic pace. Your orgasm is long and drawn out. For the first time, you squirt and in to Finnick’s mouth at that. He pulls you in to a quiet kiss, showing his love.

“Such a good girl for me my love. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Finnick begins to go get a towel to while you up with when you pull his wrist.

“Nope, your turn.”

[ghosts-bandwagon]

I’ve recently picked up the guitar again and OWIE my fingies!!! I’ve lost my callouses and now I gotta build them up again and wowie owie they hurt… so here’s the 141 + König with an s/o that plays an instrument!

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He’s mesmerized, he’s watching your fingers as they move up and down the keyboard, hypnotized by how graceful they are

(Bonus points if you’re on the task force with him, he’s in awe that something so beautiful is made by those hands that have killed before)

He loves hearing you play, even if it’s just practice, those warm up scales are like music to his hears, he’s instantly flooded with warmth as soon as he hears them, he knows beautiful music will soon follow

Whether you were classically trained, picked it up as a hobby, or you’ve made a career out of it, it’s all the same to him, you are amazing and the music you play sounds gorgeous coming from your hands

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He loves hearing you play, as soon as you grab your guitar he knows he’s in for a treat

He drops what he’s doing and goes wherever you’re sitting just to be in the same room

Even if you’re just strumming to warm up, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, he’s holding his breath when you start playing and if you sing??? Man’s gonna be window shopping for an engagement ring

It’s so magical hearing you play, he’s definitely gonna request a song or two, always cracks up when you say “anyway here’s wonderwall” and then you actually play it??? Incredible

John Price:

He’s so in love with you, it’s not even funny. He loves hearing the music carrying through the house, it’s so fucking beautiful to him

The living room is furnished around the piano, his favorite chair is positioned so that he’s able to watch you play

Sometimes he likes to sit on the bench with you and lean on you as you play, his eyes never leaving the way your fingers gracefully glide over the ivory keys

Whether you’re playing your favorite Chopin song, a song from your favorite video game or movie, or a pop song you heard on the radio, it all sounds so gorgeous to him, bonus points if it’s a song he knows, he’ll be humming along

Might even nod off on the sofa while he’s listening to you practice

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

Oh god he’s obsessed

Every time he hears a song he likes he sends it to you like, “[link] 👀🎶?” He has every ounce of confidence in your musical skills, whether you’re a novice or a professional

If you play more than one instrument? Rip. He wants the guitar version and the piano version of the same song smh so demanding

And when you’re able to pull it off? He’s hype man number one, he’s applauding like a mad man, like his life depends on cheering you on

Low key has recorded one of your practice sessions, he loves letting it play when he’s overseas and in his room, he feels so much closer to you, it’s like you’re right there with him and he feels so at peace

König:

He’s rooted in his seat as soon as he sees you grab your acoustic guitar, he immediately gets comfortable

Even if you’re just practicing and running through the same verse over and over again, he loves watching and hearing you

He watches your fingers as they pluck the strings and glide along the fretboard, he’s watching the way your tongue pokes out when you’re really focused, he chuckles quietly when you hit a sour note and groan

He’s every bit as excited as you are when you call him over to hear the finished song, he’s watching you with stars in his eyes as all the hours you spent practicing comes together

As soon as you’ve finished playing the new song, he’s got your face in his hands, peppering kisses all over you, he’s so proud of you!!!

(funny story that no one asked for bc I love over sharing: playing the piano is what made my husband want to date me when we first met 🤭)

[maester-of-spreadsheets]

DASH!!! or; kpop music to listen to when you're a vampire chasing someone for sport. or maybe just walking really fast and vibing sometimes because, like, whatever you'll catch the guy eventually.

Track list:

Shadow - f(x): why not warm up with an amazing song about stalking

Dash - NMIXX: I wanna dash, I wanna run it, I wanna run it run it DASH!

Baddie - IVE: I'm a baddie, ba-ba-baddie, baddie/Pretty little risky baddie/뭐든 될 대로 되라지/Catch me if you caAAAAan

The Chaser - INFINITE: definitely one i added because of the title and bpm but the lyrics are weirdly appropriate so here we are

LOVE BOMB - fromis_9: I MEAN...

As if it's Your Last - Blackpink: It's certainly going to be someone's last

I'm so sick - Apink: I'm so sick of lying........ You gotta know that☹️

Sleepless Night - 9 Muses: Metronomic!

Feel My Rhythm - Red Velvet: look it's sampling bach and it's cute but the hihats make it sound it lowkey wants to kill you what else was i supposed to do?

Eve, Psyche & The Bluebeard's wife - LE SSERAFIM: this is probably the title of a painting in the Loumand loft

Catellena - Orange Caramel: okay so here we have a kpop song sampling a punjabi folk song and the lyrics have all the antagonistic homoerotic yearning of Jolene and the music video has an extended metaphor comparing sushi to beauty standards and maybe capitalism?? i'm just saying it's avant garde enough for Armand

YES or YES - TWICE: 😊 Hey boy! /Look, I'm gonna make this simple for you😊 /You got two choices😊/Yes or YES? 😊

Hold on Tight - aepsa: Keep on moving!

PICK ME - PRODUCE 48: From now on, you’re mine, mine, mine, only mine mine, mine, mine (Superstar)

BBoom BBoom - Momoland: Great!

LIAR LIAR - Oh My Girl: Your freedom is OVER!

Oh! my mistake - April: You’re not allowed to make me feel lonely

Gotta Go - Chung Ha: Gotta go, gotta go

Smiley - Yena: [through gritted teeth] And I say, hey!/I’m gonna make it smile, smile, smile away/I’ll smile prettily and move past it/Just smile away, just smile away-ay,

GingaMingaYo - Billlie: Wel! Come! to! the! Strangeee-eeee! World! WOW!

Catch Me if You Can - SNSD: yeah, good luck with that

Wife - (G)I-DLE: I [pick lint off your couch] it's so twinkle twinkle

Run - BTS: Run, run, run!

RUN2U - StayC: So I run to you!! [unsettling chord progression]

Up & Down - EXID: free shit post vid idea...Armand telephathically moving Daniel's chair up and down during the chorus

Magnetic (Starlight Remix) - ILLIT: Dash-da-da, dash-da-da, dash-da, like it's magnetic

ETA - NewJeans: The day you couldn't come [home from your fuck pad]/The day [Daniel] got in so much trouble/The day [I] couldn't break up with [my husband]/The day [I had to kill our neighbor]/The day [Lestat's voice showed up in my mind]/I HEARD. HIM. SAY.......

I Don't Care - 2NE1: I don't care e e e e e, I don't care e e e e e e

Red Flavor -Red Velvet: Red flavor, I'm curious, honey/It tastes like slowly melting strawberry when I bite into it

ASAP - NewJeans: H-h-h-hi, it's me again, I'm back (hey)/Let's talk ASAP/Do you have the time?//A-S-A-P, baby/Hurry up, don't be lazy/A-S-A-P, baby/Hurry up, don't say maybe/A-S-A-P, baby/Hurry up, don't say/Hurry up, don't say/Just for a minute/Tik-tok, tik-tok, tik-tok, tik, tik tik-tok, tik-tok, tik-tok, tik, tik tik-tok, tik-tok, tik-tok, tik, tik...........

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Bonus Track #2

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader 

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (18+)

AN: Did I say two parts? I meant three lol. (It got too long, I’m sorry.) 

Word Count: 4,300 Tags/Warnings: Angst, supernatural shenanigans, death…

Bonus Track #2: One Last Hunt

“Okay, try not to panic,” Sam said. Dean had him on the phone while he sped through town in the Impala. 

“I’m coming now, but I won’t get there for a few hours,” Sam said. “My flight leaves in 20 minutes.”

“Thanks, man, but I can’t afford to wait,” Dean said. “She fucking disappeared. I don’t see her anywhere…I’m gonna have to start at her job. That’s where she first took off from.”

“How did she seem this morning?”

“Fine, I guess. I left before she woke up,” Dean said. He still felt guilty about the fact that he didn’t bother waking you up to say goodbye. 

“Okay, yeah, start at the museum,” Sam said. “Let me know what you find, and I’d loop in Bobby. Probably Jack too.”

“Bobby’s meeting me there…but we don’t need to bring in Jack yet.”

“Dean, he’s her dad—”

“This isn’t his thing. It’s ours,” Dean said firmly. “If it’s a demon, I’m gonna find her and exorcize that son of a bitch.”

Sure enough, Bobby met Dean at the museum where you worked. The old man was worried, Dean could tell, even if he wouldn’t say it. But he knew the drill: now they had a job to do.

“I’ll go in first, flash my badge,” Dean said. “Meet me in the library.”

“Roger that,” Bobby agreed. 

Dean had a decent rapport with your boss, Jerry. When he explained that you were actually missing, Jerry was concerned for your wellbeing instead of irate that you’d taken a very valuable book from the museum. 

It gave Dean a theory to lie about on the fly: that you’d been mugged and taken hostage, presumably by someone who might’ve wanted to steal the ancient text. 

“How ancient are we talking exactly?” Dean asked.

Jerry gave him a look. “Ancient Egypt.”

He showed you the inventory log on the new shipment you were supposed to compile into the system. The title missing from the rest was called The Eye of Ra. 

“All right. Thanks, Jerry,” Dean said. “Anything else you can tell me about this book?”

“It’s a recording of the great deeds of the Ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses,” Jerry explained. “It was said to be touched by Ra himself.”

Touched by Ra, Dean mused. Ain’t that just fucking swell. 

Whatever happened to you, Dean knew it was because you touched that book.

For the next few hours, Dean and Bobby worked together on deeper research in the library. Now that they had a starting point, Bobby was able to find some intel. 

“The Eye of Ra was actually a nickname,” he said, earning Dean’s attention. “For Sekhmet, their goddess of war.”

Dean’s brows furrowed at that. “Why’s it never the goddess of peace and fucking tranquility?”

“Among other things, she was the daughter of Ra,” Bobby said, raising a wry brow. “And she was known as the bringer of plagues and death…and sometimes healing. Go figure.”

Fucking hell, Dean thought sourly. This was getting worse by the minute. 

“Okay, what does this have to do with the book?” he asked. Though he had some idea.

“Well, she ain’t been alive in a millennium. But she had a husband. The god Ptah, a craftsman,” Bobby said. “According to this, when he was eventually killed, she sealed her soul away until she could find a way to rescue him from the underworld…I’ve gotta think she sealed it in that book.”

Dean sighed, rubbing the now aching spot between his brows. An ancient Egyptian goddess was most likely possessing his fiancé. 

And it was much worse than it sounded on paper.

“Okay, which means she’ll be looking for a way to bring back her husband,” he said. “So how do we find her?” 

Just then, the police radio buckled to Dean’s belt sounded off. When he listened closely, his eyes grew wide. It was a report of five murders committed at a nearby gas station. 

Dean pulled up to the local 7-Eleven. Bobby was on the way, but he’d been caught up in traffic while Dean was allowed to use his police siren to his advantage. 

He then used his badge clearance to get behind the yellow tape and over to Jack, who was still on duty. 

Dean stepped inside the gas station and surveyed the brutal scene: the nice old man who owned the place, plus four patrons were lying dead. 

Their skin was covered with boils.

Jack wore a disconcerted frown along with his crossed arms in his police jacket. 

“It’s almost…biblical,” he remarked. 

Dean knew just how right he was. Jack seemed to know that too when he glanced over.

“Is this your kind of thing?” he asked. 

Dean nodded. “I might know what’s going on here. Let’s check the security footage…but no one else can see it but you and me.”

Jack nodded, leading Dean to the back of the store. Jack was shocked by what he found in the footage. Dean watched grimly, but not surprised as you came into the frame. You tilted your head at the owner, who seemed to ask you something. 

You raised a hand, and with a flare of magic, everyone in the station was cowering and screaming as a plague of boils covered their bodies, and eventually ended their lives. 

“Christ,” Jack gasped. “What the hell—”

“It’s not her,” Dean told him. “She’s being possessed. I’ll handle this, Jack. Just make sure this footage gets buried, along with whatever prints she might’ve left behind.”

Jack barely had time to agree. As if that kind of thing was so easy. He called after Dean as he took off out of the station. 

Dean didn’t see Bobby yet when he got outside, but he didn’t have time to wait. 

However, he did spot someone familiar hanging out in front of the department store across the street. Dean jogged across and raised a hand to flag down Jessie Deluca. 

The kid was gnawing on what looked like a melting Butterfinger. He groaned in annoyance when he saw Dean coming.

“Not you again,” he muttered.

“Yeah, me again,” Dean said. “You been standing out here long?”

“Look, grandpa. I’m just chillin’ here,” the kid sassed. It sparked Dean’s irritation, as well as his impatience.

“I don’t give two shits if you’re contemplating the great Butterfinger Heist of 2008, all right?” Dean pointed back to the gas station. “You see that?”

Jessie’s expression faded from some of its assholeness, becoming more solemn. “Yeah, I heard someone died or something.”

“That’s right,” Dean nodded. “Did you see anyone walk out of the station?”

“No,” Jessie said. But Dean could tell it was a reflex, not the truth. 

“Listen, Jessie. I need your help,” he said, more earnestly. “I’m trying to find someone. So if you know anything, I need you to tell me right now. Please.” 

Dean stared down in the kid’s brown eyes. Eventually, Jessie relented. 

“When I came out of the store here, I saw some business lady walk out. I think, after it had all just gone down,” Jessie confessed. “She looked fine.”

Dean sighed and nodded. “Okay. What’d she look like?”

“Uh…black skirt. Great legs,” Jessie said, his lips curving a little. Dean raised a brow. 

“Anything else?” he asked wryly. 

“White blouse, heels…actually, she kinda looked familiar,” Jessie added as he thought harder about it. 

“Good. Now tell me what direction she went in,” Dean said. Jessie nodded and pointed him down the street. 

“I think she went down there. I saw her turn the corner.”

“Where? What street?” 

“Dude, I don’t know!”

“Then show me,” Dean insisted. He grabbed Jessie by the shoulder and guided him forward. The kid looked annoyed, but he begrudgingly agreed to lead him down the street. The two of them walked brusquely, with Jessie trying to match Dean’s longer strides. 

Dean glanced over at his companion, who was still working on his Butterfinger. 

“When’s the last time you ate something that wasn’t covered in chocolate?” he asked. Jessie didn’t look at him when he shrugged. His winter jacket hung off his skinny shoulders, making him look ten rather than thirteen. Dean’s heart twinged.

“Listen, next time you’re itching to knock over a department store for KitKats, come by the station,” Dean said. “Find me or my partner Jody Mills. Or even my boss, Jack. We’ll get you a burger or something.”

Jessie briefly looked up at him, but all too soon, his gaze returned to the ground. 

“What do you care?” he said. 

“Maybe I know something about having to fend for yourself,” said Dean. “Sometimes going hungry, not knowing when somebody’s gonna come back for you.”

Jessie’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer, but Dean hoped he’d gotten through to him.

Jessie led him around the corner at the street he thought he saw you turn down. He and Dean didn’t have to walk too much farther before he found you through the window of a bakery, of all things. 

“What the hell?” Dean muttered.

He pulled Jessie to the wall by the window for safety, but both of them snuck a peek inside. 

You were once again wielding magic to spread a plague of boils across an entire room of screaming, agonized patrons just trying to get their donuts and cream pies. 

Jessie started to utter a cry of alarm, but Dean quickly covered the kid’s mouth with his hand and pulled him back to his side. Dean waited, stock still, until the screaming inside the bakery subsided.

He looked down at Jessie and raised a finger to his lips. Though he was scared, Jessie nodded. Dean led him around the corner into an alley beside the bakery.  

“What…the fuck was that?” Jessie hissed. 

“Keep your voice down,” Dean warned. 

Then suddenly, it donned on the kid as he looked up at Dean. “Oh, shit. That’s your freakin’ girlfriend.”

Dean let out a sharp sigh. “It’s not her…exactly.”

He knew Jessie didn’t understand. Dean sighed again and grasped Jessie’s shoulders. 

“Look, you’re right to be scared. There’s something evil in there…that’s why I’ve gotta save her,” he said. “Now you, you’re gonna run. And don’t look back until you’re home, got it?”

After a moment, Jessie nodded shakily. Dean nodded back, patting him firmly on his shoulders. 

“Good man,” he said. “Okay, scram.”

Jessie seemed reluctant, like he felt some type of way about leaving Dean behind. But at Dean’s encouraging look, Jessie took off running. Dean hoped he headed straight home.

Then, rolling his shoulders, Dean braced himself. He drew his gun, which was filled with silver bullets. He didn’t think it would work on an Egyptian goddess, nor did he want to pull a gun on you. But for the threat of it alone, he would have to draw it with the safety on. 

He entered the bakery, where you were perusing the selections with a dispassionate look. All around you was death. 

But you perked up when Dean entered, eyeing him curiously in recognition. 

“Feelin’ a snack?” he asked. 

“I have been asleep for a very long time,” you replied, holding up a pastry. “What is this confection?”

“Cherry Danish,” Dean supplied. “You’re Sekhmet, right?” 

Your lips twitched. “You know of me?”

“I do now,” he said, carefully stepping further into the bakery with his gun pointed down, avoiding stepping on the bodies. He noticed the book you left closed on the counter. The goddess saw him noticing. Her gaze cut to him in amusement.

“Why’d you kill these people?” Dean asked. “Didn’t bow down at the right angle?”

“Among all of my brothers and sisters, I alone was favored by my father,” she said, “because my job was to balance the world, between life and the afterlife.”

Sekhmet brushed her fingers against a glass case, and with a small spark of magic, the glass cracked into thousands of fractals, but didn’t shatter. 

“And I did exceedingly well at this,” she said. “Though I see that my work has been undone. This world is rife with imbalance.”

“Mass genocide. Nice,” Dean quipped. “But that’s not all you want, is it?”

Sekhmet’s head tilted at him with reluctant interest. 

“I heard you’re looking for your husband, who went an offed himself,” he added. 

The goddess’s lips pursed and she slapped a hand on the glass counter, making it shatter. Dean turned and shielded his eyes with his arm. By the time he recovered, Sekhmet was coming around the counter. He took a few cautious steps in the opposite direction.

“My husband was unjustly slain by the very people who once worshipped us in droves,” she said, her tone exacting and harsh. Her eyes, however, were heavy with fury and pain. 

“He was an artist. A creator in purest form…his talents were wasted on this abomination of a world,” she said, with disgust at her surroundings. But as soon as her anger came, it diffused into exasperation. 

She picked up a glazed donut and took a bite, crossing her arms. She hummed in delight, making Dean’s brows raise. 

“Well, I can help you find him,” Dean said. It was a bluff, to be sure, but it still earned Sekhmet’s attention.

“Can you?” she asked in amusement. She didn’t believe him. Yet. But she drew closer to Dean, tilting her head just so. All the while, Dean inched towards the far end of the counter where The Eye of Ra had fallen to the ground. 

“And after, you let my girl go,” he said.

“You know of a way to reach the Underworld?” Sekhmet’s gaze roamed over him in disdain. “Unlikely.”

“Well, I’d call it a gate to Hell. But same difference, right?” Dean quipped.

The second he tried to reach down for the book, however, Sekhmet pinned him in place with a vibrant amber coil of magic. Dean grunted as she forced him to the ground, onto his knees between the bodies of a young man and woman, likely a couple. 

The goddess stopped in front of him, looking down at his face with interest. 

“Dean Winchester, as you are called. I understand why you continue to display such reckless judgment, all but throwing your very life at my feet,” she said. Her lips curved knowingly. “I hold your lover, correct?”

She harshly grabbed his cheek in her hand, and Dean glared in response. She seemed to ponder something as she considered him.

“Soon to be your wife,” she realized.

And Dean had a feeling she was in your head, sorting through your thoughts and memories like any demon would. He didn’t know what was worse: the thought of you being awake in there, unable to fight this bitch’s hold, or if Sekhmet had completely taken over your body and shut you away. 

“Just let her go,” Dean said, almost pleading. “You can have me. I won’t even fight you.”

“Such self-sacrifice,” she said. “The only noble act humans are capable of.”

Before she could decide whether to kill him, or keep him for further amusement, the front door of the bakery swung open.

Bobby came in first, followed closely by Sam and Eileen. 

Bobby was holding a damn crossbow, which he aimed and shot off at Sekhmet. It was a warning shot, just grazing her shoulder. But it burned her with a sting of flesh that made her hiss in pain. She glared up at Bobby, and after grabbing the book before Sam could, she disappeared in a whirlwind of magic.

The coil holding Dean in place shattered, allowing Dean to catch his break and get to his feet, with Sam’s help. Dean had to admit, it was good to see his brother. 

“You okay?” Sam asked. Dean reached over and pat the other man’s shoulder. 

“I’m good,” he said, though with a sigh that belied his weariness. “Hey, Eileen. Thanks for making it to the party.”

The pretty brunette offered him a sympathetic smile, rubbing his arm. “We came as soon as we could.”  

Dean nodded and turned to Bobby, who still held his crossbow. He wasn’t happy about the old man shooting at you, but he recognized that it had saved his life.

“Why’d that thing hurt her?” he asked. 

“The arrow’s dipped in a potent mix of salt from the Dead Sea…and Egyptian wine, among other things,” Bobby replied. 

Dean frowned in confusion. “Why the fuck?”

“According to the lore, Sekhmet could be subdued with alcohol,” Sam explained. 

“Great, we’ll just get her drunk and all our problems will be solved,” Dean quipped dryly. He grabbed the radio from his belt. His gaze returned to the dead bodies on the floor with dismay. 

“I’ve gotta call this in. Bobby, get the security tapes.”

After Dean finished calling in the deaths to his precinct, he shared a disheartened look with Sam, who grasped his shoulder in support.

“We’re gonna find her, all right?”

They regrouped at Bobby’s house once Jack took over at the bakery. Now the three men and Eileen were congregated in the living room, trying to decide on their next move. 

“You told her about the Hell gate?!” Sam said incredulously. 

“Damn it, Dean!” Bobby slapped the coffee table in exasperation. 

“All right, lay off! I was improvising under fucking duress,” Dean snapped. “At least we know where she’ll probably go next, assuming she finds out where the gate is.”

“She’s a goddess, Dean. One of the oldest and most powerful in ancient history. I’m sure she can figure it out,” Sam said, rubbing at his tired eyes.

And, as Dean remembered, Sekhmet was rooting around in your head. She’d find the gate for sure.

Eileen looked between the brothers, clearly worried. Sam had told her about what you, him, and Dean had gone through to close that damn gate to Hell last year. 

“So how do we stop her?” Dean asked. Without hurting you, was implicit. Bobby heaved a sigh.

“We gotta burn that damn book,” Bobby said. “But we’ll need to be smart about it.”

So that was how the four of them ended up driving to southern Wyoming. They stopped along the crossroads by the train tracks, and ventured in on foot into the very clearing where their final battle against Yellow Eyes took place.

Dean thought he’d be able to put his past behind him, but the universe clearly liked to kick him in the balls.

Evidence of this came when he saw you standing at Samuel Colt’s gravestone. Or rather, the goddess Sekhmet. 

She was expending large forces of magic to try and open up the gate to Hell. The book that bound her soul lied on top of a nearby headstone.

Dean gestured for Sam, Eileen, and Bobby to hang back and fan out, while he stalked forward. He’d changed out of his police uniform in favor of his familiar jeans, shirt, and a red plaid shirt, hoping that at least would help you focus on him, wherever you were deep inside your mind. 

But he called out to Sekhmet from a (relatively) safe distance away. 

“Are you stupid or something?” he mocked. 

Sekhmet paused in her magic wielding. She craned her head over her shoulder at him in annoyance, with amber rings illuminating her eyes. 

“There’s only one thing that can open up that gate, and I’ve got it right here,” said Dean. 

He pulled out the Colt from behind his back. 

Sekhmet’s gaze narrowed on the gun, then at Dean with a slow smirk.

“Why, by the gods, should I trust your foolishness?” she asked. 

“Because we’re about to make a trade,” Dean said. “The gun for my girl. You let her go, or you’ll never see your husband again. In this world, or the next.”

Dean pointed the gun at her and cocked the safety back. She didn’t have to know the barrel was empty. 

“You cannot harm me, even if there was ammunition in that weapon,” Sekhmet replied knowingly. 

She turned to him and reached out with a magic-fueled hand, but before she could grab Dean, Sam shot his own gun. 

It deployed a net of rope that twined around her frame and held her in place. It was soaked with the same concoction Bobby shot her with in the bakery, and it made her fume with outrage.

It didn’t completely weaken her though. Her hands were still free to fling Sam and Bobby away from her with magic. 

She then turned to grip Eileen, who was nearly able to steal the book. And the goddess sent Eileen across the clearing, breaking a headstone as she fell. 

Sam had been trying to pick himself up from the ground, but he gripped at his chest, feeling his soulmate’s pain. He scrambled over to her prone form on the ground and checked the cut along her hairline. 

“Eileen,” Sam called, pressing his hand to her cheek. He had one eye on her, and another on his brother. 

Because meanwhile, Sekhmet had broken free of the ropes holding her captive with a cry of fury. 

Just in time to grab Dean by the throat when he tried to surprise her from behind. She forced him down to his knees and smirked in satisfaction as Dean struggled against her hold.

He called your name, trying to reach you through the goddess’s hold on your mind.

“She is gone from this world,” Sekhmet taunted. “This is but a vessel for my eternal soul.”

“I don’t fucking believe that,” Dean choked. “If she was gone, I’d know it. Deep in my bones I’d know it.”

Her mouth twitched, but she seemed to enjoy the idea of slowly choking him to death. Or maybe, something was holding her back. Dean could only hope it was you, trying to break through. 

He looked into your eyes and tried to find you through the cold disdain of a goddess.

“Whatever happens, I’m not letting go,” he gritted out. He held tight to your wrist, on the hand wrapped around his throat. 

“I love you, you know that?” he said. “From the start…you closed the door in my face when I tried to kiss you. Teased me. Never took my shit. But you never left me either. No matter how hard it fucking got, you kept my feet on the ground. You never called it quits…‘cause we never say goodbye. Right, baby?”

Slowly, slowly, Sekhmet’s hard exterior faded. The amber rings of magic receded from your eyes, and the woman he loved was there again, softening your face into shock and horror. 

You released your grip on Dean. He stumbled to the ground as he coughed and gasped for precious oxygen. 

He straightened enough to grab your hand. You reached out for him instinctively. 

“Dean,” you said with shaking effort.

“I’ve gotcha, sweetheart,” he said. He turned back to see his brother helping Eileen to her feet. “Sam, the damn book!” 

Sam snapped to attention and quickly looked for The Eye of Ra. It had been knocked over from the headstone onto the ground. He grabbed it and fished out a lighter from his pocket.

Dean’s attention turned back to you when you squeezed his hands.

“I can’t hold her for long,” you said tremulously. Your whole body was shaking. “She’s so damn strong…”

“It’s okay, we’re gonna fix this,” Dean said, brushing your hair back from your face. 

You closed your eyes and gasped. But when you opened them once again, they were hard, and glowing with magic. 

Sekhmet tossed Sam away from the headstone. 

Dean tried to hold her back, but she backhanded him hard. Sekhmet followed where he fell. She reached out and gripped him by the neck again, this time choking him with a vengeance. 

But then she gasped, as if in pain. She turned her head and found Sam with the book in one hand, and a lit match in the other. As the book started to burn, Sekhmet weakened. 

Dean caught her before your body could hit the ground. 

Sekhmet released a shaking breath; she gazed into the dimming sky, painted in its golden, amber hues, and knew that her soul was dying. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks. 

Dean almost felt sorry for her. Or maybe it was the sight of your pained, weeping face that tugged at his heartstrings.

“You’ll just have to join your husband this time,” he said.

Sekhmet’s lips trembled, but she nodded. “This world was never made for us…but we shall soon be together for all eternity.”

She looked up at him with a rueful smile. 

“You understand,” she said. “A soul bond can never be destroyed.”

And with that, the haze of magic drained from your eyes as your body went limp. 

Dean’s brows furrowed with worry as he called your name. Behind him, Sam helped Eileen draw near with a limping Bobby. All three watched with worry at Dean’s side…until your eyes opened, revealing their natural hue. 

You took in a tremulous breath. “Dean.”

His eyes burned with emotion, but he closed them as he held you tight. All he could do was press his lips against your forehead in relief. 

You clung to him right back, for as long as you needed to. 

AN: Fun fact — According to Egyptian mythology, the only thing that could stop the goddess Sekhmet from ending humanity with bloodshed was by getting her drunk on beer, which had been dyed red to simulate blood (which she also liked to drink, apparently). 

Egyptians (the survivors) would drink beer mixed with pomegranate juice and get drunk to celebrate not being killed dead. (Woo!)

Anyway, let me know if you enjoyed Part 2! All the fluff is coming in the finale of Part 3, very soon…

Next Time:

Dean brings you home. The two of you figure out how to move on from here...

Keep Reading: Bonus Track #3

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

@curlycarley @buckywenal24 @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @irgendwas122 @deans-spinster-witch @dogbarkbark4445 @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @spnexploration @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @imagineteller1 @icequeen1371 @tiredqueen73 @bitchwitch1981 @abbigaleelizabeth @ohgodthebogisback @where-the-river-bends @loveprof6 @shadowcrowsworld @thespnlover @this-is-me19 @stevenknightmarc @leigh70 @pallographsunspot @syrma-sensei @brain-has-left @jassackles @hobby27 @ashbatz @zaratahir @lokisnumber1whore @saranghaey @jori21 @lillyrob @adoringanakin @agirlwithdemonblood @mimaria420 @nephil-with-a-gun @writethrough @iamsapphine @frogindisguise

[crazylittlejester]

DAILY BRAINROT

As it turns out, I needed some sleep and potatoes, so now I'm feeling much more like myself again. 👍

Speaking of potatoes... I love the idea that Twilight is Appalachian (or that Ordon is the Hyrulean equivalent of Appalachia). Which means he probably eats a lot of potatoes at home because potatoes are awesome, and I have yet to meet an Appalachian household that doesn't have potatoes. Sometimes I get homesick for potatoes, and you can't convince me Twilight doesn't feel the same way. Pumpkins are great and all, but they can't replace the ridiculous amount of potato dishes old ladies bring to potlucks. Also, I don't think there are any potatoes in BotW/TotK? So if that's true, then Wild's been tragically potato-less for his entire life.

I've also decided that I desperately need to write something about Warriors being friends with some folks at a nursing home. I think he'd get along with friendly old people. Old people love talking (and gossip) and baked goods and knitting, so I think he'd fit right in. Plus, they'd totally have his back regarding Cia. There's got to be at least one elderly widow who ends up telling him how she got away with murdering her abusive ex-husband and never got caught. It's part of the agenda now.

YAY I’M GLAD YOU FEEL BETTER!!

Twi is SO midwest/Appalachia coded to me. His ass is definitely from like, the Hyrulian equivalent of southern Ohio or some shit. He would fucking love potatoes, you could literally just give him an entire baked potato with a little salt on it and it could be enough to fix him, doesn’t even have to be anything special or fancy. You go in his little tree house, open his pantry, and he’s got like 3 entire fucking boxes of potatoes in there, bless his heart (I’m now picturing him as Wolfie in Wild’s era, absolutely fucking DEVASTATED at the sheer lack of potatoes)

You’ve somehow manage to say shit I’ve been thinkin about for days before I have the opportunity to put it into a post alkjsljklkjslkdj, but as someone who works at a nursing home, I completely fucking agree. They love him because he’s sweet and polite, but also he’s a devious yapper and he lives for drama. You can bet your ass he’s parked right next to Nancy and Susan with his jaw on the floor listening to them talking SHIT about people, occasionally chiming in with a “she did NOT.” He’s getting 60 year old gossip and he’s absolutely loving it. I also know he’d have a favorite resident, and I know it’d be the sweetest little old lady who all the other workers just adore because she’s so nice, and she just tells Wars and only Wars about how she killed her horribly abusive husband (because you’re SO right about that there’s gotta be at LEAST one) and then pats his hand and says some shit like “We can kill your abuser too, dear. A girls trip, if you will” and he’d laugh his ass off. Also he gets to just?? Do arts and crafts?? And knit and gossip?? WHILE watching the golden girls?? AND he gets to help make cookies?? and just HELP people?? AS HIS JOB?? that is like, the IDEAL job for him I fear. That’s like everything he could ever want, he’d thrive in that environment