#ar -> ca move

[penvisions]

hey y'all, i'm going to be hitting the road for the move this weekend and it's gonna be about three days of driving for 8+ hours

with that said, please please please rec me some fics you're enjoying, want to share, or you feel like getting a little more love on for me to enjoy in the evenings once i get checked into my stops! i have a tbr list about a mile long but the thought of going through my 'likes' tab gives me some extreme anxiety at the moment

feel free to drop the fics on this post in the replies, reblog and add it, or drop them in my ask and i'll check 'em out!

love y'all and hope the days have been good to you ♡♡

[ar-agon]

The Dare

So, I'm back. Wanted to do a short fic... and yeah that didn't really happen. I hope you all enjoy my creation - Ar

Summary: A stupid college dare led you to Silent Hill

Length: 2860

Warnings: Smut and slight gore

Suddenly the world was foggy. It was just a stupid college dare. You just had to join the cryic club at your local college. The moment the club learned about the town of Silent Hill it became their obsession. How could almost every resident of the town disappear without a trace? The articles you read said it was because of a coal fire that was still burning under the town but the club wasn’t truly convinced that was the real reason. Not when there were even more articles in the present years of people vanishing as well. As you could see buildings as you walked through the fog, the town was starting to look dark and foreboding, as oppressive fog obscured everything around you beyond a few feet. All the street lamps were out making the streets darker. The street was empty, save for the sounds of shuffling that echoed across the silence. 

You look around as you hear the shuffling becoming louder, “Hello?” you call into the fog but get no reply back, “Is anyone there?” You were hoping that it was one of your club mates that had followed you in and was trying to scare you but no response came. 

As you continue further into the town you begin to notice that all the windows of the buildings are either broken or boarded up. A cold breeze blows across your back, sending a shiver down your spine as the shuffling sound grows closer. Your heart races as you can't see anything in the thick fog around you. It was time to try to find a building to hide in. Whatever was following you wasn't friendly. It took a minute but finally, a door opened to what looked like a school. Taking a deep breath you headed in.

The school was run down and breaking in parts. It was just like everything else in this town. The paint was peeling in many places and tiles were either broken or missing from the floor. You could no longer hear the shuffling from outside but the shiver that went down your spine tells you that you’re not truly alone. The floors creaked under each step taken as you moved further into the school. Each room passed had broken desks and chairs, chalkboards lined the walls with cryptic messages on a few. The fire burns us all. Repent for your soul. Each message seemed to get darker the further into the school you went to. 

The loud sound of metal scraping against the floor followed by large footsteps made you pause. It sounded far off echoing through the halls of the school. Moving to an empty classroom you hid behind a desk. Taking out your phone you tried to call one of your clubmates. 

“Hey, I need you all to get me. I’m in the school and I need help,” You say into the receiver. 

“W…wha.. Ca… repeat… can’t… hear…” The voice of your clubmate sounded like static as it came through the speaker.

The sound of the heavy footsteps grows louder as they get closer to your hiding spot. Whatever was making the noise sounded huge. The connection with your clubmate seemed to get worse, the voice through the speaker now almost unintelligible. Swearing softly you hang up and move to cower under a desk. The sound kept getting closer and closer. 

You cover your mouth as the door to the room you were in was pushed open. The scraping and heavy footsteps echoed in the room as whoever it was moved through the room. As you try not to make noise the sound of the desks hitting the floor as if someone or something was tipping them over. Your heart pounded in your chest like a hammer against an anvil as you tried to slow your breathing to make no sounds at all. You gripped your phone tightly hoping it didn’t go off suddenly. A large shadow got closer to the desk you were under and seemed to stop just behind it. A large hand grips the edge of it before it is thrown across the room. 

A startled scream leaves you as you come face to face with a large man with a pyramid helmet covering his face and only an apron-like skirt covering his lower half, leaving his muscular torso exposed. The scraping noise appeared to be the large sword the man was dragging behind him. You scrambled back away from him, hands falling against broken tiles, causing your hands to be scraped up, making new streaks of blood on the floor. 

“Please…” You beg the man as he looks down at him or you thought he was looking down at you as you couldn’t see his eyes behind his helmet.

He said no words as he grabbed your ankle pulling you towards him so he could throw you over his shoulder. 

“Let go of me,” you say in protest as you punch his back, though it feels like you were hitting a stone wall. He didn’t even seem like he felt you as he continued walking, each step moving further into the thick fog. The man didn’t listen as he carried her with ease out of the school and onto the streets. "Let me go, you bastard!”

The large man said nothing as he kept moving to a new abandoned building. Though he tightened his grip on you so hard, it became painful. You wince letting out a pained noise as he keeps walking.

After a minute of walking, the large man with the pyramid helmet carried you into a new building. The air inside was cold and dark and smelled of damp decay. The man's firm grip became painful as he clutched you tighter, each step he took felt like a death grip around your body. You winced in pain at the pressure, unable to do anything but hang limply as he carried you further into the building. He carries you into a room and throws you onto a filthy bed.

He kneels down in front of you after setting down his sword so it is leaning against the wall. This close, you could see that the helmet he was wearing was fused to his head, like it was a permanent feature of this creature. Pyramid Head, as you have now named him in your head, holds out his massive hands towards you. Not knowing what he wanted, you moved away from him. Only for him to grab your wrists to pull you closer. He looked down at your injured hands and made a displeased noise. You watched him grab what looked like a relatively clean cloth and start to carefully clean your wounds. It was such a weird feeling seeing such a large man being gentle. Though his hands were rough and covered in calluses, it was a nice feeling to be cared for in such a tender way.

When he was done he wrapped your hands in the cloth and moved somewhere else in the room. You waited curled up on the bed for him to come back. A part of you knew that if you tried to run he’d catch you and you didn’t want to see what he would do to you if he did catch you. His hand had been gentle while he took care of you but you could also feel the strength behind them. An unnatural strength.

His heavy footsteps announced his arrival as he set down a plate of what looked like meat in front of you. It was cooked at least but in this place, it could be anything, human even.

“What is this?” you asked. He answered by picking up a piece. A long slimy tongue appeared from under the helmet it curled around the meat and disappeared as his tongue retracted back under his helmet. Your eyes widen at the sight of his tongue before you look back down at the meat you were being fed.

“Are you… are you expecting me to eat this?” you asked, your voice a mixture of incredulity and revulsion.

The Pyramid Head simply stared down at you, awaiting your next move. You lift a piece of meat off the plate. The sight of feathers stuck to it calms your nerves slightly. Though them being black feathers meant this was possibly from a crow or raven. Not a bird you had expected to take apart in, but the sudden grumble of your stomach ensured that you were indeed hungry. You didn’t know when you’d have another meal or even when you would find a way out of this place, so you took a tentative bite of the meat. It wasn’t the best, definitely overcooked with how chewy the meat was and not seasoned with how bland it was as well, but it went down at least.

He took the broken plate when you finished some of the meat and appeared to be done. He used his tongue to finish off the rest before leaving again. You curl up onto the lumpy bed at the very edge next to the wall. You look out the window and see a church in the distance and a shadow of a person walking into it. You lean further against the window, trying to get a better look at it. Pyramid Head walked back into the room, stopping to watch her. He walked over and lowered the blinds, quickly shaking his head.

You tried to make yourself comfortable despite his presence, but the memory of his gentle touch and the fact that he had fed you in his own strange manner made the situation less threatening. 

“There’s a church out there,” You state as you turn to him, “with people inside.”

He nods and turns away from you. 

“Can they help me leave?” you asked softly.

He suddenly grabs your arm tightly and looks down at you suddenly.

"Please," you plead softly, trying to pull away from his grasp. "I just want to leave."

He doesn't answer, only continuing to hold you tight as he seems to be contemplating something before shaking his head. He let go of your arm before cupping your face with his large hand. It almost covered your entire face. The touch again was gentle and sweet. You couldn’t help but lean into it slightly. His hand was warm and felt pleasant against your skin. 

“I have to get home,” You tell him.

He shakes his head again as he brings you closer. 

Frustration and desperation started to build up inside you, but so did a strange sense of warmth and security from his touch. You grab his wrist feeling the muscles under his skin like collided steel. How long had it been since you touched a man? A real man, not some frat boy hookup. You closed your eyes to savor the feel of it. You pause as you feel something slimy caress your neck. Not even having to open your eyes you knew what it was. His tongue had wrapped around your neck. It brought shock waves through you at the oddly pleasant feeling coursed through you. You shouldn’t like this but part of you did. A part of you wanted this. Wanted his touch. Wanted something other than a meaningless hook-up. Maybe this was it. Perhaps this was what you needed.

His touch was animalistic, a raw and primitive instinct driving his actions as his hands moved to grip your hips. He laid you down on the bed and hovered over you. You opened your eyes to look up at his metal helmet. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as he ripped at your clothes easily tearing them apart as his tongue moved to taste every part of you. A strangled moan leaves you as his tongue moves downward and against your most intimate spot. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as you arch into him with a mixture of ecstasy and need.  

Your hips bucked, seeking more, needing more. The world narrowed to this moment, to his touch, his mouth, his presence consuming you utterly. You were lost, drowning in a sea of lust and longing, and you never wanted to be found. This was madness, this primal, animalistic joining. And you reveled in it. His hand moved to undo the strap of his skirt letting it fall to the floor. Your mouth dropped open when you saw the sizable length and girth of his cock. It was hard and leaking as it stood up proud against his abs, the thick shaft throbbing with need, glistening with beads of moisture at the swollen tip.

Your tongue darted out, wetting your suddenly dry lips as you imagined the taste of him, the feel of that thick length driving into you, claiming you, owning you utterly. Heat flared in your cheeks, your chest, your core - a fever of lust and craving that could not be denied. You wanted him, more than you had ever wanted anything in your life. You needed to feel him, all of him, inside you, around you, consuming you completely.

You try to wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to where you need him. “Please,” you begged as he carefully grabbed your hips. He rubbed his thumb against your skin before slowly pushing into you. A weak gasp leaves you as it feels like the air is being pushed out of you in the most delicious way.

As he bottomed out, hitting himself deep within your core, you swore you could feel him in your throat. You were so full, so impossibly stuffed with his thick cock. It was a delicious invasion, a claim that left you breathless and aching for more.

"More," you gasped out, your hips rolling instinctively to meet his slow thrusts, "Please, give me more." You were lost to the sensation, drowning in the feel of him, the taste of him, the very essence of him. In that moment, you existed only for his pleasure, only for the feel of his cock driving into you, over and over again. Your senses were overcome by pleasure as he kept hitting all the right spots. His tongue was still licking across your skin as if trying to taste the sweat that was gathering on your skin.

It didn’t take long for you to feel like you were losing yourself in the pleasure. This was not like the frat boys that you were used to. The pleasure was unlike anything you'd ever experienced, a tidal wave of ecstasy that threatened to sweep you away completely. His thrusts were powerful, and purposeful, each one driving into you with a force that stole your breath and shattered your thoughts. Gone were the clumsy, fumbling movements of the frat boys you'd known before. Gone were the drunken un satisfied tumbles in the sheets. This was a man, a creature of raw, primal instinct.

You could feel every ridge, every vein of his thick shaft as it dragged against your fluttering walls. It was a constant stimulation, a relentless assault on your senses that pushed you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. Your nails raked down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as you clung to him, anchoring yourself against the tempest of sensation.

"Don't stop," you panted, your voice ragged and desperate, "Please, don't stop!" Your hips rose to meet his, the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. You were lost in the moment, lost in the feel of him, the taste of him, the scent of him. The world narrowed to this one, singular point of connection, this dance of give and take, of pleasure and pain.

He loomed over you, a metal giant possessed of a single-minded purpose. His grip on your hips tightened, surely leaving bruises behind, as he angled your body to take him even deeper. You could feel him in your belly, stretching you impossibly, claiming you utterly. This was not just sex, this was a conquest, a domination, completely taking you from anyone else who wanted you.

As your climax approached, you felt a moment of panic, of fear at the sheer intensity of it. You had never come undone like this before, never felt so consumed, so overwritten. But then his thumb found your clit, rubbing mercilessly, and you tumbled over the edge into sweet oblivion. A pained moan leaves you as your vision blacks out from the pure ecstasy that this man, this creature had given you. 

You felt him thrust into you a few more times before his orgasm washed over you and painted the inside of your womb. You both stayed connected as you road your high together. His hands gently roamed your body before he pulled out causing you to let out a soft whine. He licked your cheek before falling into the bed next to you. He wrapped his arm around you pulling you on top of his chest the warmth of him seeps into your skin. With a soft sigh, you let your fingers dance across his skin.

To think this all happened because of a stupid college dare.

[adderallinfluenced]

thorns

gabriel x reader

TW WARNINGS: violence, torture/manipulation, cursing, blood, drugging

When her brothers find out about her and Gabriel’s relationship, they get into an argument. She storms out, finding herself in a bad situation, and Gabriel saves her.

——————————————————

Dean paced the motel, anger written all over his face. Sam sat in the chair across her, brow furrowed. They’d found out about Gabriel, or rather, her relations with him. Needless to say, they weren’t happy.

They were working on a rather tricky demon case at the time, planting them down in the middle of nowhere. Gabriel’s company while she did research was a welcome one, until Dean had walked into the two of them getting busy.

Her brothers harsh voice cut her through her thoughts.

“Have you got anything to say? At all?” He snapped, “I mean, fuck, Y/N. After all the freakin’ bullshit his feathered ass put us through?”

“What he put you through.” She snapped, “Not me. He’s not like that, Dean.” He really wasn’t. He cared about his family, and he sure cared about her, as far as she knew. Bringing her little gifts, taking her to different places and giving her the chance to finally unwind from constantly moving from city to city.

Dean scoffed, “How long have you been fucking around behind our backs, then?”

“God, what does that matter? It doesn’t change anything.”

He didn’t reply, staring daggers at her. He gritted his teeth, biting back something harsh. If looks could kill, she thought to herself. She rolled her eyes, “Just under two years,” she muttered.

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Her brother stared at her. “Two freaking years?”

“Do you even know what he’s capable of?” Sam’s voice cut in. He’d stayed mostly silent up to that point. “I can’t even count how many times he killed Dean; and I lived through it over and over and over. He’s immortal, Y/N, with the power to do nearly anything if he just thinks it.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” She threw back sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

“My point is, he’s going to get bored at some point. They all do. As much as I love you, I really doubt you’re the exception here.” He finished.

“You guys hang around Cas.” She pointed out.

“He’s.. Thats different. It doesn’t matter. He’s bad news, sis. Nothing good happens when he’s hanging around, and you should know it.” Dean added. That fucking hypocrite, she thought.

“Can’t be that different, I’d almost say it’s very similar. Especially for you, Dean.” She retorted. Her patience was paper thin.

Hues of red crept up his face. Her jab had clearly hit the target, but it only pissed him off further. “That has nothing to do with this.” His voice was low, dripping with anger. “Why can’t you just listen to me for once? After everything I’ve done for you, I feel like you owe me this one.” He added.

“Like I owe you- Christ, Dean. Quit acting like dad. Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you’re in charge.” She hissed back at him.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N. We’re just looking out for you.”

“Yeah? Controlling who I can and can’t see is looking out for me?” Her blood was boiling.

“Yeah, it is. Would it be so hard to listen? Are you capable of that?” How dare he?

“Dean-” Sam began, but her harsh tone cut him off.

“Screw you, Dean. I’m out. You can figure this out-” she motioned towards the mess of research papers on the coffee table, “by your damn self.” She stood up, and despite their protests, grabbed her keys and slammed the door behind her. She was hot with anger.

Making her way out her car, she unlocked it and slipped inside. It was a dingy old thing, but at least it was hers. She turned the key, and the engine rolled over, hesitating to start. Not now.. A couple more tries and it finally roared to life. She sat there for a couple minutes, thinking.

She pulled out, deciding an aimless drive was what she needed. Are you there, Gabe? She prayed out to him, I need someone to talk to. Silence. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. He rarely did answer her prayers.

She turned the music up, allowing that to distract her further. She tapped her fingers against the wheel to the beat. The sun was setting, casting hues of purples, oranges and pinks across the sky. It was getting late.

Ahead in the road was a small bar and grill, and her stomach rumbled. She didn’t see herself going back to the motel anytime soon, so dinner sounded like a good idea. Grabbing dinner if you want to join, Gabe, she prayed to him, pulling into the parking lot.

The joint had definitely seen better days, but that wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying a few drinks and food. Letting out a sigh, she parked the car, waiting. Thoughts ran rampant in her mind. He wouldn’t get bored, she assured herself. Would he? She shook her head, trying to clear it. Briefly, she wondered if she should just head back to the motel. Demons were crawling through this town like termites to a tree. And it’s getting late, she added to herself; but she didn’t even want to think about her brothers at that moment. I’ll sleep in the car if I have to, she decided, stepping out onto the pavement.

She stepped inside, finding a seat at the bar. The bartender slid a menu over to her, flashing a friendly smile, “Haven’t seen you in here before. Just passing through?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” She replied, looking through the menu. “I’ll start with a vodka cran, tall. Thanks.” Sliding the menu back to him, he took it and nodded. She took in the surroundings of the small diner. It was rather slow; a couple folks took up the corner table, a pair played cards, another couple enjoying a dinner. Apart from chatter, and the dusty jukebox in the corner, it was relatively quiet. Almost peaceful.

“Tall vodka cran for the lady.”

The bartender was back. “Name’s Dusty, by the way.” He added, leaning against the bar. He eyed her curiously.

“Nice to meet you.” She wasn’t necessarily in the mood to talk, much less personalize with someone. “What do you recommend for a bite here?” She added, hoping he took a hint.

“You can’t go wrong with our burger.” He replied. “Want me to put one in for ya?”

“That’d be great. Thanks.” She sighed in relief when he turned back. Normally, simple conversation didn’t bother her, but she was too fed up with nearly everything to care.

She pulled her hand up to her forehead, rubbing her temples in frustration. Everything’s been going good for her thus far. They’d moved from hunt to hunt, executing each one damn near flawlessly. Her and Gabriel had grown close, too, and she felt as if she was in deep with the archangel. It was nearly every other day they’d see each other, the two dodging around her nosy brothers. Until that last time, she reminded herself.

Dusty made his back over, plate in hand. She turned her attention over to him. “Here’s that burger for you, Y/N.” He smiled, sliding the plate over to her. She froze, I never told him my name.

“I- Uh, thanks.” She tried playing it off. I need to leave. She wasn’t about to take any chances. All she had was her knife.

“I left something in my car. Keep an eye on that burger for me?” She attempted to lighten the awkward mood with a laugh, lifting herself up off the barstool, she made her way for the door. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her heart pounding.

The man who had been playing cards stood at the door, blocking her way.

“Leaving so fast, Y/N?” His eyes were swallowed in darkness. Fuck. She reeled her arm back, swinging and making contact with his jaw. Surprise lit up his face, clearly not inspecting that from her. She pivoted around him, reaching for the door when another hand grabbed her arm, yanking her back.

Grabbing her knife, she twisted around to meet Dusty, only his eyes her black as well. She tried to stab through to his side, another demon grabbing her from behind. She struggled against them, shooting a glare up at Dusty.

“I’m betting you aren’t really Dusty, are you? Let me go.” She hissed at him. He laughed.

“Name’s Acteus, sweetheart.”

Acteus? That was the ‘ringleader’ of the demons they’d been tracking. She was in way over her head. Gabriel? Please help me, she prayed desperately towards her archangel. No response, yet.

“So now what? Kill me?” She snapped back at him.

“Kill you? No, I’m just here for some fun. You Winchesters are a pain to kill anyways.” He chuckled. When he stepped closer, she brought her foot up in a kick, meeting with his groin. He doubled over, and she tried to pull herself free.

“You bitch.” He looked up at her, pissed. Pulling his arm back, he hit her square on the side of the head. The world spun, and she slumped over, darkness shrouding her vision.

————————————————————————

When she woke, she had no idea where she was. The room contained a rickety table, a thick door and concrete made up each wall. Her skull itself felt as it was throbbing from where she’d been clocked over the head.

Dusty- No, the demon; Acteus, circled around her. The dirty concrete stung on the cut across her cheek, the ropes digging into her wrists. This is fucked. He twirled a fancy knife around in his hands, and dropped to a crouch in front of her, a smile plastered across his face.

“You don’t have to make this hard, sweetheart. We just have a couple questions for you, that’s all.” She didn’t respond.

He reached down and grabbed her face, directing her attention on him. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell us what we want to know. Cooperate, and we won’t have any problems. Got it?” He let go of her, pushing her head back into the floor. Her head collided with the concrete, sending dizzying stars into her eyes, and a groan escaped her throat. He stood up, and she remained silent.

“Got it?”

She flicked her gaze up to meet his. “Fuck off,” She hissed, and before she could say anything else, his boot collided with her ribs harshly. A loud crack echoed through the room, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She tried to catch her breath but all that came out was a weak wheeze, and she whined in pain. Gabriel? I really need your help here.

“You Winchesters are so stubborn.” He scoffed. “Speaking of, where are those brothers of yours? Where there’s one pest, there’s more, and I will not be taking ‘I don’t know’ for an answer.” He growled. He paced around her again, waiting for an answer.

She opened her mouth to say something snarky, and was cut off by another sharp kick to her side, and yelped. She looked up at him with rage in her eyes, and he clicked his tongue at her.

“You’ll have to be quicker than that, Y/N.” He drawled her name out mockingly, “my patience is very thin right now.” He crouched over her once more, pulling his blade back out. He lifted her shirt up slightly, revealing deep bruises already forming over her side. “That’s going to be a bitch to heal,” and he placed the tip of the blade over her skin.

“I won’t ask you again.” His gaze was fixed on her.

“They were at the motel down the road. How the hell am I supposed to know where they are now? We finished up our hunt here.” She lied. He cocked his head to one side, not breaking eye contact, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so?” He lifted the knife up off of her, and her confidence grew.

“Liar.” He pushed the blade deeper, drawing blood, and in one swift motion, sliced down her side. She cried out in pain, her vision blurring. Gabriel, Cas, anyone. Please help me, she begged silently. She refused to give him any information. He stood back up, his boots making contact with her fingers, and they cracked under the pressure, sending white hot pain through her hand. When he stepped away, two of them were at an awkward angle.

“Oops. Did I step on you?” He sneered. “You don’t have to make this hard. You want out of here, I want answers.” He started, “I think we can make a fair compromise here, hm?”

Between her head, her side, and her hands, the pain was unbearable. Tears welled at her eyes, betraying her monotone expression.

“I hate you.” She hissed through her teeth. Another harsh kick.

“Wrong answer.”

He retreated back a couple steps, and threw the knife onto the table. “I’m not done with you yet.” He headed for the door, and paused, “If I were you, I would heavily consider cooperating.”

He was gone. Her mental walls broke down, tears falling down her cheeks, her whimpers echoing around the room. She was growing weaker by the second, and she knew it.

Everything hurt. Blood was oozing down her side, welling into a puddle on the floor. She couldn’t move her fingers, and her head felt as if it were about to split open. Exhaustion clung to her every sense, and she closed her eyes. I’m so sorry, Gabriel. For a moment, there was peace. The pain subsided, briefly.

In another flash, she was yanked back to reality. On one side of her, a man- no, demon, held her down. In front of her, she was face to face with Acteus, a syringe in his hands, injecting her with.. something. Her veins felt as if hot lava were running through them, and she struggled to catch her breath. He slapped her across the face, hard.

“You think you can die and have an easy way out?” He laughed, “I will bring you back over and over again until I don’t need you anymore.” They both let go of her, and she flinched away from them. Her heart was racing, it felt as if it her about to pound out of her chest. Her senses felt sharper, and she felt the aching pain of her wounds intensify. What the fuck did they give me?

“How about this Gabriel?” He asked curiously. “Word through the grapevine says he’s grown quite fond of you.” He eyed her, looking for any sort of reaction.

“What.. about him?” Her lungs felt like they were lit on fire, each word was a struggle.

“Don’t play stupid with me.”

“Does it matter?” Why does he care? She wriggled against the rope restraint on her wrist, casting a glare up at him. I won’t give him the satisfaction of breaking me.

“Oh, it does. He’s been quite a pain for us lately. Do you realize how much that archangel is worth?”

He smirked, placing his now bloodied boot over her side, applying pressure. She tried to move away, but he had her pinned. The pain was dizzying, icy cold darkness blurring the edge of her vision. Gabriel, if you can hear me… She silently begged, please help me.

“Come on, at least put up a little fight. I almost feel bad for you.” He stepped off of her, retreating a couple steps. The lights flickered, briefly, catching his attention. She could hear glass shattering from behind the door, the sounds of a fight filling the silence. Gabriel? Acteus stalked over to the door, locking it. He grabbed his blade from the table and turned back to her. He bent down and grabbed her by the hair, holding her down against the concrete.

“Those brothers of yours just can’t stay away, can they?” She flicked her attention up to him, with a more bewildered look in her eyes. No, it can’t be them. There’s too many demons up there. What if they.. She cleared her thoughts. I can’t think about that right now.

“Expecting someone else, Y/N?” He tightened his grip on her, pushing a knee into her side. “Come on, you don’t think we’re dumb enough to leave the place unwarded, hm?”

He clicked his tongue, “Well, I can’t imagine they’ll get too far. But just in case,” He pushed into her side more, deep pain causing darkness to cloud her vision as she cried out. “It might be best if I make sure there’s nothing left for them to save, hm?” He pulled his blade back out, pressing it against her throat. She tried to struggle away, but there was nowhere to go.

The lights flickered once more, and the door behind him splintered apart. Acteus jumped up, kicking her harshly to the side to face the intruder. He held his knife up, but faltered. Shock was evident in his face, but just briefly. His confident demeanor returned.

“Gabriel! What a surprise-” His voice was cut off as the archangel grabbed him by the throat, slamming him up against the wall. He swung his knife out towards his attackers side, stopping when Gabriel grabbed his wrist,

“How’d you get in here?” Acteus choked out, his hands struggling to pull Gabriel’s own off of himself.

“Wrong wards, dumbass.” His voice was laced with venom. She’d never seen him this pissed off before; angry, upset, irritated, sure. But this was a level of pure, unbridled rage she’d never seen.

“Hey- Come on, this is all a huge mistake. I’ll let her go, you can let me go and we’ll be on our way? This won’t happen again.” He rambled, and for once, there was fear behind his eyes.

“You’re right, it won’t happen again.” Gabriel righted his grip on Acteus’ throat, and the air crackled with energy. Sugar, close your eyes. Gabe’s voice echoed through her skull, and she screwed her eyes shut. The room lit up harshly, she felt heat radiating from the two. Acteus’ screams filled the room, filled with fear and pain, worse than nails on a chalkboard. As awful as the echoing sounds were, she had no empathy for him. Between the chaos in the room, her injuries and exhaustion, it was too much.

The light died down, and she opened her eyes to see Gabriel, and what once was Acteus. There was nothing left of him. Sleep and darkness lulled along her senses, and she couldn’t bare it further. She closed her eyes, the last thing she heard was Gabriel’s voice, begging his father to spare her, and comforting her as he desperately worked on her wounds. She slipped into nothing.

————————————————————————

Sunlight filled the room. She groggily opened her eyes, finding herself on her bed. Gabriel was sat on the of the bed, eyes fixated on the door. Keeping watch, maybe? She tried to sit up, groaning as her weak and sore muscles protested. His head snapped towards her direction, and he moved to her side.

“Woah, easy sugar,” He murmured, resting his hand on her shoulder. “I couldn’t heal you completely. You…” His voice trailed off. “The damage was too extensive. It’s been just under two weeks.” He finished carefully.

“Two weeks..” She echoed. Then it hit her. Her memories came crashing down, Acteus, that room, her fight with her brothers, the… damage he’d done to her. She lifted her cover up, and then her shirt, inspecting her side. Apart from light bruises, there was no evidence of any trauma. She looked up at him, “You came.”

“I almost lost you.” He whispered.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Gabe.” She replied with a weak laugh. His concern didn’t falter. She reached her arms out to him, pulling him closer to her. “I thought I was going to die in there.” She admitted. He moved to where he was lying next to her, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

“You almost did. I mean, fuck, I almost lost you. What if I had showed up a few minutes later?” He murmured.

She sighed, “I don’t know, Gabe. I’ve been able to take care of myself up until now. They took me by surprise, I guess.”

He stared at her, his golden eyes reflecting his emotions like panes of glass. He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“How did you find me? I thought he had wards up.” She asked.

“He did, he just did a shit job at it. Your muttonhead brothers could do it better blackout drunk.” He replied, slight amusement edging his tone. Oh my god, my brothers. She hadn’t spoke to them since she’d stormed out of the motel, she realized.

“I was getting your prayers, sugar. I just couldn’t find you. Do you know how many buildings I tore up looking for you?”

She didn’t reply. She thought he’d just been busy, or ignoring her. No wonder he was so pissed, even before finding her.

“Sam, Dean- where are they?” She asked. Had it really been two weeks?

“Oh, they’re here. They weren’t happy to see me, and that’s an understatement. They won’t leave, something about not trusting me, or something.” He mumbled that last part.

She suppressed a giggle, “I can’t imagine why.”

“Do you want me to grab them?” He asked. She really didn’t, not yet. She wasn’t quite ready to talk to them. The comfort of her bed, along with Gabriel holding her was not something she wanted to abandon yet.

“No. I think I’m too tired.” She laid her head against his chest. “Rest with me?” She asked, peppering soft kisses along his neck. He sighed, melting into her touch.

“Sugar, you’ve been resting for two weeks, and archangels don’t sleep.” He replied, matter-of-factly.

“Okay, alright. But I can’t imagine you’ve done anything short of stressing and sitting right at the edge of my bed for the last.. two weeks.” She threw back at him. She knew she was right when he didn’t respond.

“That’s what I thought.” She added, stifling a yawn. “Just for an another hour or two?” She kissed right below his jaw again, and he took a deep breath.

“You drive a hard bargain, sugar.” He murmured, running his fingers through her hair.

“Thank you for saving me, Gabriel.”

He didn’t respond, humming and pulling her body close. She closed her eyes, the rising and falling of her angel lulling her to sleep.

[sirxlla]

Fresh Air & Wheat Fields

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

Warnings: Fluff, Long

Prompt: How you met Clark

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts. (Tagged @preciouslilmonster )

-With that said, it's all under the cut-

You are the daughter of Poison Ivy, kidnapped at a young age, and taken to Stagg Labs in the middle of buttfck nowhere Kansas. They treated you like a lab rat, gave you a number, and kept you out of the sun so the chlorophyll in your skin couldn't photosynthesis into power.

Recently some new security guard left the cell door open after your daily shot. Such an idiot, you waited til shift change, which was about a ten-minute amount of time where no one was there. You stood in the sunlight through the window, your skin turning a beautiful green color. It's now or never, so you shattered the window and ran.

The shift change took much longer than usual, which gave you extra time to get off the lab property, but where would you go? You don't even know where you ar-

"I can't think about that right now." You reminded yourself as you continued to run, you took in the little water that formed into dew on the grass you ran through. You ran until exhaustion, falling down face-first in the middle of a wheat field.

Clark's father called him down to investigate something he saw out of the corner of his eye on the edge of the property while sitting on the porch swing. Clark approached the spot with cautiousness; he could hear breathing from even where he stood on the porch with his father. He knows there's something there, but what is it is the question.

Clark got closer and pushed through the wheat, a sick-looking green woman. His eyes narrowed with confusion as his heart filled with compassion. He shrugged off his tee shirt and wrapped it around you, picking you up with ease.

Once Clark got into the house he set you on the couch, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and laying it over your naked body. Jonathan saw the numbers on your green skin and freaked out. He wanted to reach for the phone to call the police. Martha gently grabbed his wrist as she saw Clark's worried expression.

"Does she not deserve a chance? The same one you once gave me, Father?" His crystal gaze met his father's with compassion and worry. He already knew Clark had made up his mind. "Please, I will take care of her myself."

Martha and Jonathan nodded their heads. He was definitely Martha's son, maybe not by blood but in compassion and love. Clark raced up to his room to get some of his own clothes, and he swiftly put them on you, keeping his eyes closed the entire time but brief glances to make sure he wasn't hurting you.

Your forehead is burning up, and he gently blew on it to help lower your temperature. He waited on you hand and foot for three days until he saw you begin to wake.

Clark saw you shoot up, and he very quickly held up his hands to show you he wasn't a threat. The air was clean, it smelt of different plants, it smelt full of life, even rain, maybe a few miles away. Your eyes filled with wonder as you got used to the new feelings filling your senses.

"Ca- Can you talk?" Clark asked quietly so as not to overwhelm you, slowly lowering his hands as he saw you nod. "Are you hungry?"

"I can eat?" You asked with pure happiness. The lab only fed you on "special" occasions, but for the most part, they just let your body photosynthesize the minuscule amount of light you would get. Clark's face filled with pity; he could tell there was a lot more about you that he didn't know, but none of it felt like it might be dangerous.

"Yeah, you can eat. Are eggs okay? I can get you some juice or water or something." He asked as he moved over to the kitchen, still watching you from across the room.

"Eggs and water?!" You asked with pure excitement, very quickly getting up to go over to him, not even really noticing the clothes or the fact that you got up too quickly. Your vision started to black, and before you knew it, like in the blink of an eye, he was holding you up so you didn't fall to the floor. He helped you to your seat, and slowly let go of you with a kind smile, you're adorable to him.

"Stay here, you're weak." He rounded the table to make you breakfast, grabbing you a glass of water which you downed within almost a second of him giving it to you.

"Woah, okay. I guess you really need a lot more water." He grabbed a gallon jug of water and a bendy straw and pushed it over to you.

"Drink it slowly; you don't wanna throw up." He said before you nodded in compliance and he moved to crack the eggs into a bowl, all twelve in the carton. He was sure you'd definitely eat them all, and if you didn't eat them all, then he would eat what was left.

"What's your name?" You asked whilst taking a breath away from drinking the water. You noticed his curly black hair and blue eyes, he was definitely prettier than the men Stagg hired to experiment on you or keep you in line.

"My name's Clark. What's yours?" He asks as he makes sure not to get any shell in the egg before he whisks them, adding salt and pepper.

"They call me my number or Project Dalia...I think I remember my mom calling me Y/N, but I don't remember it very well. I've been in a lab for so long." Your brows furrowed as you try to remember your past. Clark tenses his jaw as he hears how they'd call you a number, how inhumane.

"You aren't ever going back there if I can help it. I promise." He said with a certainty that made your heart leap, no one had ever advocated for you, and his unnecessary kindness made you feel safe.

You silently watched him as you slipped your water slowly like he had requested, your chin resting on your palm as you watched him cook the eggs. He plated the food and told you to eat slow but take as much as you want. You started eating before suddenly someone knocked on the farmhouse's front door...

Who is it? Vote here. 🫶🏻.

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

-> Masterlist

-> Send me prompts if you'd like

[welcometoqueer]

Recount Possibility Update:

There’s some new speculation that the Harris/Walz campaign might be quietly moving towards requesting a recount despite nothing being publicly announced.

The speculation mostly comes from supporters noticing that the messaging at the bottom of Harris/Walz campaign emails and donation page has changed.

While the campaign previously simply thanked supporters at the end of its emails and donation page, it now includes a message that claims a portion of donations will now be put towards the “Harris for President’s Recount Account.”

Nothing regarding a recount has been directly announced by the Harris/Walz campaign.

NEW Campaign Fine Print:

Check out the fine print yourself (scroll to the bottom, no pressure to actually donate):

Video speculation (can watch through browser):

WSJ Article Excerpt:

Wall Street Journal: “Harris Fundraising Fine Print Signals Recount Effort”

[ID:

Two screenshots.

The first is a screenshot of a portion of new fine print included on the Harris campaign donation site. It reads:

"The first $41,300/$15,000 from a person/multicandidate committee ("PAC") will be allocated to the DNC. The next $3,300/$5,000 from a person/PAC will be allocated to Harris for President's Recount Account. The next $510,000/$255,000 from a person/PAC will be split equally among the Democratic state parties from these states: AK, AL, AR, AZ, CA, CO, CT, DC, DE, FL, GA, HI, IA, ID, IL, IN, KS, KY, LA, MA, MD, ME, MI, MN, MO, MS, MT, NC, ND, NE, NH, NJ, NM, NV, NY, OH, OK, OR, PA, RI, SC, SD, TN, TX, UT, VA, VT, WA, WI, WV, and WY. Any additional funds will be allocated to the DNC, subject to applicable contribution limits. A contributor may designate their contribution for a particular participant by contacting info@kamalaharris.com. The allocation formula above may change if following it would result in an excessive contribution."

The second is a screenshot of the WSJ article on the possibility of a recount by the Harris campaign. It reads:

"The Harris Victory Fund-a joint fundraising committee that allocates contributions to her campaign, the Democratic National Committee and to state Democratic committees- quietly updated the information on its donations page on Wednesday morning. The donation page now says that a portion of money donated to the fund will be allocated to "Harris for President's Recount Account," signaling that Kamala Harris's team is gearing up to watch the count of votes in contested states closely. "This is a razor thin race. We need your help to make sure every vote is counted," it says. The Harris campaign didn't immediately respond to a request for comment."

/end ID]

[capedcaretaker]

Sunlight & Sniffles

Dipping my toes in the ar/cane and Ca/itvi pool. Gaging interest or whatever the kids say:

Caitlyn let out a soft whispered sigh, wrapping her arms around Vi just a touch tighter, as if silently begging the morning not to come. The sunlight trickling in from the small cracks in the pulled curtains. Mornings were becoming harder and harder, waking up with the love of her life, sometimes all she wanted to do was waste away in their love.

Vi let out a soft moan, it was laced with subtle congestion from achy sinuses, moving her hands to lay them over Caitlyn's. She rubbed her thumb against Cait's soft skin. Nose crackling with a damp sniffle.

"Safe to assume you're not feeling any better, darling?" Cait nuzzled against the firm muscles of Vi's back, kissing carefully up her back until she reached the base of her neck.

Caitlyn could feel the way Vi's body tensed, only for a moment, before she curled forward with the force of a shuddered sneeze, "Ih'HhkShHiuh!" A sniffle and gasp, "hhHuh... eh'KsSHhu!"

"Bless you," Cait's voice was warm and sweet, like honey. "Poor thing, your nose must be exhausted." And it would only get worse with the day.

Vi hadn't cared to bother Tobias for antihistamines, to try and settle her troubled nose, but there was no way she could continue the day how the morning started and last night ended. She rubbed her nose into the soft fabric of the blanket, ignoring the small line of dampness her leaking nose left behind.

In her state every fabric surface became the equivalent of tissue; even their fancy duvet and bed sheets.

"I feel," Vi snuffled, voice heavy, the words a breath on he tongue, "eh'Hh... fee--HhH!" She scrunched up her nose, "eh'KsShHiu! Ih'kShhHhIu!" Her voice taking on a slightly higher feminine pitch at the end.

"Like you're going to sneeze?" Caitlyn laughed softly, "bless you, Vi." she felt a tightness in her chest at Vi's misery, it was endearing to see her whittled down to a sniffly sneezing mess. Yet all she wanted was for her to feel better.

Vi sighed into the bed, turning until she was facing Cait, who bit down on her bottom lip at the sight of her. Itchy watery eyes, reddened twitching nose, rimmed with a layer of wetness.

She rubbed shamelessly at her nose, crushing the ball of it against the palm of her hand, the sound of wet sinuses filled the morning silence. "Gross," Vi sniffled heavily, nostrils twitching and sinuses crackling, "I feel gross." She huffed.

Caitlyn hummed, lifting her hand to rub her thumb along Vi cheek, just barely rubbing the side against her swollen nose, "You always look beautiful to me." Vi could tell she was being sincere, the love and affection swimming in her eye, even as she watched her now.

Vi's lips parted, curling forward and eyes pinching shut, she didn't move to shield Caitlyn from her misery, instead spraying a fine layer of snot across her sleep gown.

"Even when you sneeze on me," Caitlyn chuckled, pinching away the remaining wetness from Vi's nose.

[rafedaddy01]

Kissing in the Rain

Summary: Rafe picks reader up from a date and let’s her complain about all the sleazy things he did and when he gets angry and jealous they get in an argument, but as he drives her home it starts raining really bad and they have to pull over. They get a motel room and things get a little too heated.

Warnings: none

Notes: this was another request, but it was anonymous so I don’t know who sent it :( but whoever did thank you!!

It was 12am and your date had taken you to a party, one were he left you all alone and you found him making out with, not one, but two girls.

You didn’t even bother confronting him.

You simply stepped outside and dialed the one person you knew you could always rely on. Rafe.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing Rafe, ca-can you come pick me up?”

“Ar-are you okay? Where are you”

“I’ll send you my address”

You sit and wait and see Rafes truck pull up.

“Get in” he says as he reaches over from inside the truck and opens your door.

“Thanks for coming” you awkwardly say as he drives away.

“No problem, but uh… I thought you were on a date.” He says the last word a bit to harshly. “What happened?”

“Ugh, don’t even get me started. I don’t know why I even decided to go out with him, my friend said he was a catch.” You snort as you remember what you caught him doing “I’m just glad I got away without a fight”

Rafe nods as he listens to you.

“You know, I don’t think you should be dating. Especially so soon”

You roll your eyes as Rafe brings up JJ, your most recent boyfriend.

“Rafe. Don’t start”

“I’m serious y/n, I warned you about him too. You just don’t listen, you shouldn’t be with a guy like him you should be -“ he cuts himself off and your about to ask him what he was gonna say when it starts pouring.

“Ah shit, I can’t see anything” he groans as he turns on his high beams but it’s still no use “I think we have to pull over”

Rafe pulls into the closest building to us, a motel.

“Weather app says it won’t stop raining till morning.”

“Maybe we should get a room” you suggest “I’m pretty tired and we really should continue this conversation when your not driving”

Rafe nods and you both get out of the car and head inside.

Your sopping wet as you both enter the room.

“I’m gonna shower” you announce

Before you walk off Rafe tugs your arm

“Y/n. What I was gonna say earlier-“

“Rafe, stop. You don’t -“

“I love you” he says

You laugh a little as you look into his eyes. Once you see he is serious your smile disappears.

“Rafe..”

“Y/n I’m serious. I know you feel it too, don’t try to deny it! Why do you think it never worked with any of those guys?”

He walks toward you and you don’t move. Instead your eyes are locked with his, occasionally dropping down to his lips.

He’s right. You’ve liked him for some time now. Who are you kidding, you’ve loved him since you first laid eyes on him.

“Tell me to stop”

His hands grip your waist and pull you in.

You place your hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound.

Water droplets falls off your hair and running down your cheeks.

“Tell me to stop and I will” he whisperes as he pressing his forehead to yours and leans his lips closer.

He smirks at your silence as he finally dips down and fully captures your lips with his.

He kisses you like your his breath of oxygen, like he’s drowning and your his only supply of air. He heals your soul with his kiss.

You both start slowly undressing each others, lips still entangled.

He leads you to the bathroom and props you up on the counter, pulling away only to start the shower.

He smiles as he walks back to you and cups your face. He pecks your lips and picks you up, placing you down in the shower.

“Let me show you just why I’m the only one you’ll ever need”

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism @drewstarkeysbae @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf

[theallianceofcelestials]

has WH lunar or WH bloodmoon (or all three) had a ptsd episode/ panic attack around each other/ eclipse?

if so, (and you want to) may we please have a Drabble?

Around each other? Yes! Around Eclipse? Probably as well! Though he probably didn't try helping them at all in the beginning when they didn't trust him

Also, I have no idea how a panic attack or PTSD episode actually look like, haha, but I'll try my best

Bloodmoon feels as if their chest is constricting in on itself, squeezing painfully until the vents they take in don't reach whatever they have for lungs.

The more air they take in, the more the world begins to spin, simultaneously becoming hazy and turning sharp with focus. Everything sounds like it's coming from underwater, but also as if it's shouted right in their audials.

They grab onto their chest, because there's something wrong. There's something very wrong, but they don't know what that is!

They have no idea what's going on. The outside world is nothing but a terrifying, unknown blur before them now, too washed away to make any sense. There might be something moving, but they're not sure. They're too focused on the growing, sharp pain originating from their chest to pay attention.

Why is this happening?

They're back with their parents in the house, but they're also looking at a looming skull above them, opening its jaws so wide it should be impossible.

It feels like they've ran a lot, like they've just started dashing out of the village and didn't stop until... until... until something

The pain in their chest worsens, somehow blocking what minor air made its way in, and they hunch in on themselves, panting and gasping in the hope at least a little bit will make it in, but it doesn't feel like it, it feels like they're dying, like they've been thrown to the ground again, and they really wish someone would be beating them instead because at least they could handle that

Something touches them, and they jump, their optics snapping open to take in whatever's before them, something reddish and black, and just those simple colours make the knot in their chest relax the tiniest bit. It's enough to make the world clear enough to see the blurry outline of their mother.

"Blo-oon h- -e?"

They just stare at him, realising whatever touched them is now wrapped loosely around their wrist, gently tugging occasionally as if to take their hand away from where their claws have dug into their own chest.

Strangely, the more they focus on their mother, the better they feel. The sharp coiling pain in their center is beginning to slowly unclench, letting them greedily gulp up some much needed air.

A hand, at least they think it's a hand, is pressed against their forehead, and it's blessedly cold. When did they get so warm?

"Bloo-moon, ca- h-ar me?"

It's more understandable this time, and they give a nod. Eclipse before them seems to relax slightly too, giving a big sigh of relief.

"I'm goi- to hug yo- -ow. Is th-t alri-t?"

They think about it, before giving another nod. They don't think they can talk right now. They're too busy venting in air.

Mom moves forward slowly, gradually pulling them into a soft hug, which they notice they can easily break away from if they wanted to. However, they'd rather press their head into his chest, going limp once they can hear the soothing inner machinations of the witch's systems.

They close their optics, ignoring the way how the world rapidly gets blurry then focused again. It's much easier to cope with whatever's happening without seeing.

"Alright, you're fine now. I'm here."

A hand slowly, very slowly, begins caressing their upper arm, and they really appreciate just how lightly their mother is touching them right now.

"Can you think about three things you're hearing?"

They can hear their mom, which they think is the most important thing of all. However they can also hear a bird singing nearby, and a cricket croaking already.

"If you've finished that, could you think about three things you're feeling?"

Mom, the grass beneath them, and the dress mom's wearing tickling their face.

"Once that's done, is there anything you can smell?"

Mom, the fresh scent of rain, and whatever dinner is.

"I'm going to pull away now, alright? Just enough so I can see if you injured yourself. I'll still be holding you"

They give a nod, feeling ridiculously thankful for the hands that're loosely holding their arms. They have a feeling they should open their optics, but they aren't ready for that yet. Just... not yet.

"It seems like your claws came out, which is not surprising. The scratches you gave yourselves however are light. We'll take care of them once you're calmer."

They grimace in slight discomfort as the stinging of the wounds makes itself known, but there's nothing for them to really do about it. They feel too shaky still.

"Lunar was very worried about you, and he's waiting in the house right now. Should I tell him once we head in to leave you be for a bit?"

They nod, leaning back against their mother. He doesn't say anything more, just holds them.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

John Kettler: Chief of The unSUCCESSFULS Invisible Staff

John Kettler is out after only three (3) months on the job. No sympathy for anyone who partners with these two (2) bullies. You're either too lazy to read a book or maybe you like to help bullies.

"Joshua lives with his wife in Santa Barbara, CA and holds an MBA from Clemson University with an emphasis on Entrepreneurship and Innovation."¹

Richard Eden for Daily Mail: When the Duke of Sussex appointed Josh Kettler as his grandly titled chief of staff earlier this year, it was said that he was the perfect man to 'guide' Harry 'through his next phase'. However, the Daily Mail understands that Mr Kettler has suddenly quit his job after scarcely three months, amid much intrigue. Josh Kettler is no longer working for them,' a source in California told this newspaper today. The timing is a particular blow to Harry and his wife Meghan as Mr Kettler would have been expected to accompany them on their 'quasi-royal tour' of Colombia, which kicks off this week."

The total number the Sussexes have lost since they married in 2018 is said to be at least 18, with nine or more having left since they moved to California in 2020.

Mr Kettler was seen entering St Paul's Cathedral with the duke for the anniversary service, which was attended by figures including Harry's uncle, Earl Spencer, but no other members of the Royal Family.

Later that month, Mr Kettler was a key figure on the Duke and Duchess of Sussex's three-day 'tour' of Nigeria and was by Harry's side as he met government officials in the West African country. His role on the visit was said to be a foretaste of what he would achieve in the future.

Prince Harry and Meghan with Mr Kettler (circled) by their side. His role on the visit was said to be a foretaste of what he would achieve in the future.

¹Bio: "Joshua Kettler is an experienced executive accelerator, organizer, and confidant. Seasoned in guiding C-suite functions, critical cross-functional program management, high-level strategy development, and board of directors / investor relationship management. Focused on bringing unparalleled products and experiences to customers while working in lockstep with leaders, executing on their vision.

Joshua spent the better part of a decade with Patagonia, a leader in outdoor apparel, serving as a trusted resource and right hand to the Vice President of Global Sales and Customer Experience. He helped direct all revenue driving strategies and operations worldwide, spanning seven major markets and $1B+ in yearly revenue. His efforts included managing the organization's workflow, prioritization, and oversight of regional GMs, while providing input on critical decisions including distribution strategy, customer touch points, internal and external communication, organizational structure, and personnel matters.

In 2021, Joshua shifted is focus to start up ventures, becoming Chief of Staff to the CEO of Better Place Forests and most recently joining Cognixion as Chief of Staff and Head of Strategic Partnerships, helping to accelerate and support the transformative AR / BCI company.

Joshua is an avid trail runner and skier, and a steadfast supporter of conservation and the environment. Joshua lives with his wife in Santa Barbara, CA and holds an MBA from Clemson University with an emphasis on Entrepreneurship and Innovation."

[nebula-award]

♆☸ Astrolabe: Chapter 1

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

After a Groundbridge incident during a recon mission on the Nemesis, Arcee, Bulkhead, and Smokescreen find themselves on an uncharted island. No comms, energon, a way off, or memory of how they got there. As the base searches for the squadron, trust provides a catalyst to the stranded Autobots as they move forward and backward in time.

AO3 Link | CH2

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Day One

The piercing ring never left his ears, nor did the sound of wires zapping rhythmically, as he came back online. What followed was a metallic shriek from shifting his legs. Scrap, that tox-en pain never left. Groaning, his optics fluttered open meeting bright rays that dodged the leafy overhang in order to blind his optics. 

Primus, his helm ached. Dragging a heavy hand to his head, Bulkhead grumbled deep enough to shake the dirt beneath him. Dirt…? At the thought, he shot himself up straight and opened his optics wide which sent a heavy weight of pain to his helm. He hissed, burying his head in his dirt covered servos. 

“Sccccrap.” He drew out. 

Slowly, he reopened his optics greeting the green world around him. Canopies of trees shield his vision for miles, and the ground below was dark as chocolate and soft in his digits. He glances up, minding the sun’s rays, to find a giant, Cybertronian-sized hole in the canopy. No, too big for just him… 

“Bulk…head? Oh, sc-c-crap.” 

Bulkhead jumps at the breaking voice behind him. He turns around with great worry as he realizes the source of the frying wires zapping in his audio processor. Paint job hidden by black dirt, Smokescreen lies on his side in a fetal position. His servos clutch his abdomen, doing a terrible job holding the leaking blue energon staining his white finish. Some of the cables on his right leg are disconnected and produce sparks. Despite his attempt to endure the wound, he’s moaning heavily at the sheer pain, vocal processor frying his vocals. 

The wrecker narrowed his optics and lurched over to the wounded. “Scrap, Kid! What happened?” 

The rookie eases himself to the best of his abilities. “Your g-guess is… as go-od as mine…” 

“You mean you remember nothing?”

Smokescreen shakes his head the best he can. He hisses as his leg cables spark. “’ink I’m startin’ to under-erstand what you and Ar-cee meant… by ‘long haul…’” 

Bulkhead chuckles despite the circumstance, searching in his chest cavity for any medical supplies. “You learned just as I did: Arcee is always right…”  

Bulkhead’s optics flashed at her name. An image of the blue two-wheeler in dark lighting-- face-plate illuminated by a red glow-- passes his memory files. 

“Arcee!” He shouts. 

“Ouch!” Smokescreen groans. “Ca-re-reful! My audio processor just… got fully on-line.” 

“Sorry, Kid.” Bulkhead grimaces as he finds a few medical supplies. (How he wished he listened to Ratchet’s advice to resupply…) He leans down, doing his best to patch up Smokescreen’s stomach, but servos meant for construction can only do so much. “I just remembered Arcee was with us before, well, all of this happened. She must be nearby.” 

“Nearby… grh, wh-ere exactly?” 

“I’m… not sure.” Bulkhead frowns. “But, I’m going to try and radio her. Stay still for now, Smoke.” 

“D-don’t have… to-to tell me tw-ice.”

“Arcee?” 

… 

“Arcee?” 

… 

“Arcee, do you copy?” 

Frag… She groans as her comm link scratches in her ears. The voice matches the pounding in her head: persistent and loud. “Arcee? Arcee, please come in.” The voice pleads, and she pities whoever is on the line as much as she pities her headache. 

She refuses to open her optics, bringing her hand weakly to her comm link button. “Present…” 

“Oh, thank Primus, Cee.” 

Her eyebrows furrow at the nickname, quickly opening her optics. “Bulkhead?” Her thoughts fill with concern as she glances around her foreign surroundings: nothing but a fog of green. Her breath hitches, realizing he is nowhere in sight. “Primus, what happened?” She asks-- mostly to herself-- as her servos run against the dirt floor. 

“I’m… not entirely sure. That fall Smokescreen and I completely wiped our memory banks.” 

She sighs, raising herself up onto her pedes. “As long as you two are safe.” 

“...” 

“...Bulk?” 

“Not… Not necessarily.” 

She frowns, “Meaning?” 

“The kid’s bleeding energon badly and his leg is broken. Whatever happened to us certainly wasn’t a normal energon skirmish.” 

Her optics darted to the floor, shaking. She’s quiet for a moment before asking with quivering breath. “Is- is he stable?” 

“To the best of my abilities, but we’re stranded ducks out here, Cee. If we’re going to locate each other, you’re gonna have to come to us. We should be to the Northeast.”

Arcee grimaces as she begins stalking through the forest. She keeps low in the brush, light frame barely making a sound. She unsheathes her blades, cutting through branches and ivy in her path. “Helpful…” She tells him, but a smirk is clear on her face. She can hear his half-hidden chuckle.

“Hard to get a reading out in the middle of nowhere, Cee. We’re gonna look for shelter soon, but I’d advise heading that direction for now.” 

“Alright, stay safe, Bulk.” 

“... You too, Cee.” 

The line goes quiet, leaving Arcee to take in the thick sounds of the jungle. Brushes shook at every cut. Birds chattering high in the trees, hidden from her view. Arcee scowls. Despite the loneliness of her situation-- she cut through more vines-- a chill constantly ran through her spine… 

She steeps lower into the brushes, mindful of the anxious feeling invading her system. The more she traveled, the softer the birds sang… Softer and softer until their songs ceased into a dead stillness-- a waited breath, until a powerful roar of a drill echoed through the jungle. Arcee’s optics flash at the sound, and she stalks closer like a jaguar sneaking past a group of poachers: Decepticons. In the middle of the trees was a small clearing surrounded by drills and cargo loads emitting a bright blue glow. Arcee’s chest heaved watching the small team of vehicons drill into the earth. She ducked low as a troop surveyed the area… 

“Scrap…”

[a-french-coconut]

The Labyrinth (2)

Chapter 2

Unlike during her arrival, there were now many demigods outside, and some of them were looking in their direction curiously, whispering as they walked in front of them. 

Annabeth recognized some faces, a few more familiar than others. Will Solace offered them a quick wave, as he hurried to the infirmary, mouthing something that Annabeth interpreted as “we’ll catch up later. Don’t die.” and she gave him thumps up. She caught glimpses of Nyssa and Ellis too, but the rest of the vaguely familiar faces she knew were drowned in unknown kids. 

“Lots of year-rounds.” Katie whistled, watching around her with wonder. “Were we ever that many ?” 

They had been once, Annabeth remembered, playing with her necklace’s beads. In her first years of Camp, after Thalia’s sacrifice offered them a true protection, mortal parents had dropped off their children by dozens. 

But Katie had arrived two weeks before the Winter Solstice. Two weeks before Luke stole the lightning and things started to get awry. 

“Annie could tell you better than me but I think there was a lot of demigods before the Titan War.” Travis tiled his head to look at her, and she nodded in confirmation. “And you know what happened during the war, you were there.” He quieted down, stuffing his ever-moving hands in his pockets. “People just stopped coming.” 

The or never made it echoed loudly in her ears, drifting her gaze to Thalia’s tree, standing proud on Half-Blood Hill. She used to hear screams, children’s screams, echo over the cabins’ clearing sometimes, waking her up in cold sweat during the night. She never found out if those were nightmares or reality. Monsters didn’t leave remains once they caught up with their preys. 

“Yeah, I’ve had three brothers taken away from Camp by their worried parents just after we got the Fleece.” Clarisse grumbled, watching not-so subtly towards Ellis, with barely hidden worry. He had been involved in the whole Dodona’s Grove thing, if Annabeth recalled well. Now it was Sherman’s turn. “They’re in college now, monsters don’t bother them that much.” 

Annabeth smiled at that. Hearing about demigods making it in the mortal word was always good news. Hopefully, it would be her turn after finishing her studies at New Rome. 

And surviving this quest. 

“Hooray for them.” Travis clapped lazily, swiftly ducking to avoid Clarisse’s incoming punch. “Hey ! I was being genuine.” 

“You didn’t sound like it.” Clarisse shrugged, while Travis rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to surely antagonize further. He was good at that, making jabs at particularly sensitive spots. 

On a normal day, Annabeth would have let him. Their weird dynamics wasn’t her business, and her teenage rivalry with Clarisse was still on, which meant she would happily rile up the daughter of Ares if the opportunity showed itself. 

Today, however, she needed them to be on more than good terms. “Travis, who exactly are we going to see ?” 

His eyes narrowed, and Travis watched Clarisse for another split second, then he gave her a crooked smile. “You probably don’t remember her. She stayed three weeks in the Hermes Cabin, waiting until Hecate’s was finished. Good friend of Cecil and Will. And good with magic.” 

That did stir up something in her memory. She did associate a girl with Hecate’s cabin. 

“The usual answer for that question is a name, you know that Stoll ?” Katie huffed amusedly, shaking her head with fondness. 

She had black hair, Annabeth was pretty sure of that. Green eyes, maybe. Shorter than her, though that wasn’t uncommon. Her name was though. 

“Nonsense.” Travis grinned like the Cheshire Cat, his blue eyes gleaming in the very telling way that he was about to push her buttons. It started with an L, her name. Something like Louana. “I always told people looking for you that the second they saw a short, angry, brown girl with atrocious green overalls, they had found you. I never told them your name and yet.” Travis poked her cheek. “They never came back for more details about your charming self.” 

Ah, it was coming back to her. Lou something. Lou Ellie ? 

“That’s because they asked someone with more braincells, you idiot.” Katie snapped back, swatting away his finger. “Probably Connor, gods know he’s the smartest between you two.” 

“Lou Ellen !” She exclaimed, turning to Travis, confident in her memory. Then she registered Katie’s words, and the sudden silence hovering. 

Ah. Maybe not the best time. 

“I pray the gods right, Gardner.” Travis whispered glumly, turning on his heels and walking away. He set a quicker pace, gesturing at them sharply to follow. “Lou Ellen likes Arts & Crafts, we should find her there.” 

Once he was far enough, Katie let out a groan. “Fuck, sorry, it was automatic.” 

“He’s not angry at you.” Clarisse said as they jogged up to catch up with Travis but still out of earshot. “He gets snappy when Connor’s in danger.” 

“Yeah, remember when Connor disappeared for hours during Capture the Flag and turns out he had just fallen asleep on a tree ? Travis had freaked out, and almost throttled Chiron for not letting him lead a search party outside the border.” Annabeth added, reminiscing the scene.  Travis hadn’t even been mad at Connor when the younger brother had finally decided to show, only hugged him. “He’s just worried, as we’re all.” 

Because despite Travis being the most obnoxious about it, Annabeth knew Katie and Clarisse were just as anxious, herself included. 

“I’m not even head counsellor anymore, but I feel like I should have been here to protect her.” Katie hummed quietly, twirling the heart locked between her fingers. She clenched it harder. “I feel guilty for leaving and letting her deal with the gods’ mess. If I was here, maybe I could have stopped her from entering the Labyrinth.” 

“Don’t start thinking about ifs, Katie.” Clarisse sighed, mindlessly scratching her long scar running down her forearm. She got it from the Drakon, the only injury the beast had managed to lay on her. “Trust me, it’s nothing but trouble.” 

“Clarisse is right, we can’t change the past.” Annabeth said, smiling wryly. She would know, after all. “And don’t feel guilty about leaving. Miranda wouldn’t want that. Did you know Malcolm was the one made me leave early in the summer ?” She grinned at Katie’s surprise. “Yeah, he said I should get used to New Rome before the semester start. He was right. I was really glad to know where to buy good coffee and blueberry muffins when I discovered some of my classes were in Latin.”

Clarisse snorted at that, making Annabeth give her the stink eye. “It wasn’t funny Clarisse. They taught me math in Latin.” 

Sweet Katie, who had the honor of stifling her laugh until now, burst into a full-blown, stomach-ache inducing laugh that made daisies sprout all around her. 

The sound reached Travis who looked back curiously, to see Katie in a laughter fit, Clarisse amused of her side, and Annabeth herself trying to look peeved, but unable to stop a smile curling on her lips. 

“What’s so funny ?” He asked them once they reached him. They had stopped just in front of the Arts & Crafts center. Katie sobered up quickly, an apology rolling down her lips but Travis hold his hands to stop her. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” He took a big breath, then added softly. “I’m just worried and you did nothing wrong.” 

“See, told you.” Annabeth whispered quietly to Katie before continuing louder. “It seemed very funny to those two that New Rome’s university teaches math in Latin.” 

Travis starred at her. “And they called us the crazy ones.” He grumbled, patting her shoulder in support. “Crazy romans aside, Lou Ellen should be right inside.” He said, opening the door and holding it out for them, allowing them to enter. 

Annabeth clocked her out immediately. 

Because the only occupants in the room besides themselves were a black-haired girl and a small pig squeaking indignantly at Lou Ellen who was too busy cackling to hear them come in. 

“Lou Ellen, what did I tell you about turning Cecil into a pig before I left ?” Travis chided, shaking his head like a disappointed older brother in front of his little sister’s antics. Annabeth guessed it described their relationship fairly well. 

Lou Ellen’s eyes widened comically, and she rushed to Travis, making them almost tumble when he caught her, twirling her around. “Travis ! I thought you only came back this summer !”

Cecil the pig squealed in joy, jumping around his older brother. Travis carefully picked him up and checked his little pig fist. “Hiya, Cecil, how you doing, buddy ?” 

Cecil grunted, swaying his head wildly. 

“I think he wants his human form back.” Travis told Lou Ellen, who promised him she would transform him back later this evening. 

“He gotta learn first the consequences of his actions.” She said seriously, taking Cecil from Travis and putting him on the table. Then, she snapped her fingers and Cecil disappeared in a poof. “I just send him back to my cabin.” 

Lou Ellen finally saw them, and it dawned on her as she took a seat. “You’re here about Malcolm, Connor, Miranda and that guy from Ares Cabin.” 

“Sherman.” Clarisse supplied for her. 

“Yeah, we already got a quest to bring them back.” Travis ruffled her hair, an easygoing smile plastered on his face. As if their quest would be easy and there was nothing to worry about. As if they would all be back by the end of the week, alive and fine. “All we need now is a little bit of your magic.” 

Lou Ellen perked up. “My magic ? You need some of my pig orbs ?” 

Travis considered it. “If you have some you can lend me, sure. Can’t hurt. I needed something else, though. A tracking spell.” 

Lou Ellen caught up with his plan as quickly as Annabeth did. “You’re going to use it to track them, that’s smart. But couldn’t have Cecil done that ? You didn’t have to come all the way from California.” 

Travis’ smile strained a bit. “Yeah, the thing is they’re trapped somewhere where I don’t want Cecil to go.” 

“Oh, okay.” Lou Ellen fidgeted on her seat. “I’m going to need to know where they are. To make the right adjustments for the spell.” 

“A general spell will suffice.” Annabeth intervened. With a structure as complex as the Labyrinth, better to go with something simple, less likely to mess up. “I’m guessing you’ll use an object that connect us to our siblings ? All we need is that link, nothing more.” 

Travis sent her a grateful nod. She understood his reluctance to tell Lou Ellen about the Labyrinth. To learn that they were locked in that place… She also thought the young girl was better off not knowing. 

“Sure, if that’s what you want.” Lou Ellen gave in. “The spell is simple to cast. I’ll just need an object that link you to your siblings. The stronger the link, the stronger the spell.” 

Katie immediately took off her heart locket and gave it to Lou Ellen. “Miranda gifted it to me for my sixteenth birthday. I never took it off since, and neither did she.” 

“Yep, that’s what I’m talking about.” Lou Ellen grabbed the necklace and place it on the table. 

Travis took off a ring, one that Annabeth recognized instantly. She had helped him designed it. “Connor wanted a ring for his tenth birthday so…” Travis shrugged as it was self-explanatory. “I made two, one for him and one for me.” 

He dropped it into Lou Ellen’s waiting hand, who then placed it next to the necklace. 

To her surprise, Clarisse ripped a patch from the vest she was wearing. “Sherman loves paintball games. We went to so many that the club running it gave us a patch with the insignia on it.” 

It joined the two other items on the table. 

She didn’t have anything on her that linked her to Malcolm. 

“I need to go the cabin, be right back.” She muttered, signaling them to wait for her here and sprinting towards Cabin 6. 

She was the only one without a linking object. On her, anyways. She was sure to find something in her cabin. 

But still, it bothered her. She had never been really close with her siblings, that much was true. The older ones had left before she turned twelve, and then she had been busy running on quests, planning the war. 

Designing Olympus was the cherry on the cake, taking all of her time away until Percy disappeared and she fell into a spiraling hole. 

She had learned how important it was to have people to rely on then. Malcolm had been the one to make sure she was eating and sleeping well. He had listened to every theory she had, helped mapped out the possible locations of where she could find Percy, and hold her during her rare but brutal breakdowns. 

Annabeth had been close to Malcolm. 

But she could not think of an item that held their connection. 

She barged in the Athena Cabin, and head straight to Malcolm’s bunk. It was neatly made, as she expected of Malcolm’s love for tidy things, but what interested her was the drawer under it. It was where he kept his personal possessions. 

At first glance, nothing inspired her. Books, a chess set, family pictures. Some sneaked snacks from the kitchen, a curtesy of Connor no doubt, and plenty of wood-carved animals, Malcolm’s favorite hobby. 

Maybe she could take that ? He had made her an owl for her fourteenth birthday, but it was in New Rome, on her desk next to Percy’s origami blue fish. 

She groaned, but then something colorful caught her eyes. She picked up a Brazilian bracelet, an old one from the looks of it, with red, blue and purple strings. 

The memory came back with absolute clarity, and Annabeth felt stupid for not remembering it sooner. 

She had gifted this to Malcolm during his first week at Camp, when it had so obvious he was Athena’s son, with the telltale grey eyes. 

In her childish logic, she had braided their favorite colors together, blue and red, to tell him that he belonged with her, in the Athena Cabin and not in the Hermes Cabin where he was trapped with the other unclaimed.” 

“Looks like I’ve got to get you out once again.” She whispered to herself, as she closed the drawer with her foot and rushed back to the art building, the Brazilian bracelet in her hand. 

Next step is the maze !

[penvisions]

dev's lil update

hey y'all ♡

it's been a while since i've been fully present on here!

i've been settling in after a rather hectic past six / seven months of moving from tn -> ar -> ca after getting fired for health reasons and then being unable to find employment. BUT i've managed to get not just one but two jobs here in ca

i'm so excited to have stuff to fill my days again and to help me get out of the financial hole i had fallen down in the midst of this year

i've been dipping my toes back into reading and writing, still feeling a little...hesitant and self-conscious tbh, but i am so proud of myself and the strides i've made recently with working on my wips and these two pieces:

services requested {older! joel miller x younger, rich! reader}

there's a place and time {no-outbreak! joel miller x neighbor! reader}

my space and page is a welcome one, please feel free to reach out for fic recs, send me links to works you're excited about that you've written or read, snippets about your day, whatever and whenever you want! if you express kindness and friendship, you'll get it in return ♡

[radioactivepigeons]

One of the things I adore about the Pitt is the mentorship. Oh my god, there are multiple times where I’ve almost cried.

The Pitt and PTMC are a competitive program, we know this on multiple levels. It’s a level 1 trauma center and a university hospital. You end up there because you’re Good. (Or you’re ca good and your mom subtly pushes your program director to place you at her hospital so she can keep an eye on you.) There’s a comparative process to get placed at a hospital and people move across the country to start at a new one. There’s definitely a sense that some of the characters will stay. Katherine LaNasa mentioned that she thinks Langdon has been around since his med school days and it’s been teased that Whittaker will end up there. McKay is probably another case where she’s at PTMC because of geographic limitations. She can’t leave Pittsburgh without leaving her son. The rest of the residents? They probably moved to be there when they matched. (It kind of places Samira as a woman who doesn’t socialize outside of work into a new light as well. I’ve been there, one that, have the 147K word fic to prove it.) …And it’s not the point of this post. My point is that you had to be good to end up at the Pitt and it’s a high pressure environment. The other sign is that they promote from within, which you tend to see in either isolated institutions, usually EPSCOR states (SD, AR, AK, OK as examples) or top institutions (Harvard, Columbia, Hopkins, UC jewels, etc). Since PA isn’t an EPSCOR state and there’s fairly good mobility between Pittsburgh and other good institutions (Penn, The Ohio State, etc) it’s probably reasonable to assume it’s good.

Good or isolated programs are place that abuse can thrive. There’s no reason to be kind to your people becuse they don’t have better options. This is especially true for trainees, who essentially need to be here to finish. The fact that Mel left the VA is a whole ass other post in terms of residency. But; like, Santos, McKay, Mohan, Ellis, Langdon, and Collins? They’re there until they finish or they quit. (And you don’t quit.)

And so, the fact that education is such a priority in the Pitt and that the mentors are generally so gentle is so important to me. Like, wr constantly see Robby, Langdon, Collins, and in turn, Mohan and McKay praising their trainees.

There’s the tension with Mohan: is the ED the right place for someone who is as detail oriented as she is? She needs to clear beds. And that “Slo-Mo” nickname is somewhere between unkind and teasing, I tend to lean toward unkind but not malicious, similar to a lot of interactions we see with Langdon and Garcia, Langdon and Collins, Langdon and Dana… okay, clearly the name started with Langdon and he’s that kind of asshole.

The rest of the time, though? They’re good at teaching. They care. The leaders are kind when they don’t have to be - except Langdon and Santos. And we know that’s an exception: something is rubbing Langdon wrong with Santos and vice versa.

The only tow times we seen a public dressing down, Langdon is involved and it’s a highlight of how out of control he is.

Every other time there’s a challenge or correction? It’s a quiet conversation. Collins challenged McKay’s bias in private. McKay challenged Javadis basis in private. Robby and Collins have the abortion argument in private. Even when Santos super screws up and drops the fucking scapel in Garcia’s foot, there isn’t yelling. There’s a private discussion and chastisement on a corner. Correction isn’t public, isn’t done in front of patients unless it’s teaching specific, and it’s almost always done private. And, becusse of that, people respond well, for the most part.

I have worked for so many people in Robby’s position who lake that shit public. As a “learning experience” and name names. You used to know when a grad student or postdoc was on their way out becuse of the way they were corrected in meetings.

The flip side is praise. Now, some of this is my baggage from when I was a dilating postdoc in a high pressure lab, where praise was always public. I’ve worked for people for 10 years and it’s rare that a supervisor has taken me aside to say, “you did good”. There are lots of times it’s been performative: “Pigeon, my talented grad student” or the introduction to a thesis defense. But, praise is public because it benefits the leader.

And then, you have the Pitt, where praise is gentle, reasoning, and happens both publicly (in front of patients) and privately (with trainees). We see McKay walking Javadi through sutures, complementing her gently as she works through things while chatting with (distracting) Tasha. We hear Robby and Langdon and Garcia and Abbot and McKay and Collins all tell their junior people that they’re doing well with the procedure. We see Robby tell Langdon he wrote him a glowing letter, Langdon find Mel to tell her he’s learning form her, Robby tell Mel they’re lucky to have her. And lkle, these are not conversations that are being had where people can hear them, so people can hear them. They’re there becuse they’re important conversations.

And I just… these are the kind of mentors I want to learn from because these are the kind of mentors I want to be. And I adore that in addition to everything else, we get to see academic mentoring where people care. It feels a little bit like a fantasy, but in the best way possible.

[mydaddywiki]

Jerry Jones

Physique: Average Build Height: 6’ (1.83 m)

Jerral Wayne “Jerry” Jones Sr. (born October 13, 1942) is an American businessman who is the owner, president, and general manager of the Dallas Cowboys of the NFL, one of the world’s most valuable sports teams. Since he acquired the franchise in 1989, Dallas has won three Super Bowls (1993, 1994, and 1996). Jones is among the league’s most influential owners and is sometimes called the “shadow commissioner.” He has an estimated net worth of $16.1 billion, the majority of which can be accounted for as being his ownership stake in the Cowboys.

Born in Los Angeles, CA, and moved to North Little Rock, AR as a child. Jones enrolled at the University of Arkansas, co-captaining the 1964 national championship football team. The following year he graduated with a B.S. in business administration and later that year received an M.F.A. Following graduation, he became an executive vice president at his family's insurance company. After selling it, the Joneses established Buena Vista Animal Paradise.

In 1989, Jones purchased the Dallas Cowboys for $140 million. Under Jones, the team achieved success, elevating the franchise's value to an estimated $10 billion. He played a pivotal role in securing lucrative TV deals, contributing to the NFL's financial prosperity. Criticized for his high visibility and controversial decisions as both owner and general manager, Jones remains a polarizing figure among fans.

Jones married Eugenia Chambers in 1963 and together they have three children: Stephen (fuckable), Charlotte (hitable) and Jerry Jones Jr. (hitable). Wait… in 2022, Jones was served with legal action by a 25-year-old woman who claimed that he is her biological father. I'm shocked. Shocked I tell you. Well… not that shocked if you've seen pics of him and strippers that surfaced online.

Anyways… when first won three Super Bowls, I never wanted to fuck him more. Then he hit the wall, team wise and looks. Recently, he’s become fuckable to me again and I don’t know why? Maybe it all the thots throwing themselves at him that’s got me all horned up for Jones. Now I’m not saying he’s hitting any of them. Just that he looks like the type that would.

Career Highlights and Awards As Owner: 3× Super Bowl champion (XXVII, XXVIII, XXX) 2014 NFL Executive of the Year

As Player: National champion (1964)

[2346khith]

Hello dears ! I am asking you to support my campaign to help me to reach my goal. I am now in bad need to your support to help me stay alive and safe. Gaza is a very dangerous place either on the level of livelihood or on the level of souls. I need your monetary support to ensble me to get the basic needs for my family till Rafah crossing point reopens to move my family to safety and peace.Pleasd help a family be alive through your small donations or througn your shares to others.Thank you so much for your stand beside people in need .

https://gofund.me/f89ff0ac

For those who see this please, visit their blog and reblog their blog’s posts so they  get more attention and if you have the money to spare please donate.

Also I apologize, but I do not have the ability to donate to you. Trust me if I had the ability I would but I don't and I can't. I have no bank account or credit card to transfer money to and no job to gain any money. Every time I ask my parents to help they shut me down so this is the only way to help you. Please forgive me.

[yellowthelemonboy]

i wrote a silly little prom au one-shot

Castiel hadn’t expected to have fun at all at prom, he thought it would just be some music playing and people being loud and annoying, but looking back at the night, it’s the most free he’s felt in a while.

Dean had requested a song, castiel didn’t pay attention to what the song was until the beat started to blare through the speakers in the cafeteria turned into a dance floor, dean smiling when it came on and yelling “this is my song! It’s my song! We gotta dance!” Giggling 

castiel stared at him, what had said “we have to go to the dance floor” weren’t they already on it? It didn’t matter, Dean had the biggest smile cas had ever seen and that was all that matters, keeping that big silly smile on the Winchester is face. 

When he realized the song he smiled as well, getting into a groove and dancing with dean, following deans moves and hugging himself when the song said “here in my arrrmmmss” and he definitely made sure to jump-stomp like dean had done when the sound played on the speakers, he absolutely made the most of the night, even if he didn’t mean to.

Dean smiling and screaming every lyric, castiel didn’t even care everyone was looking at them, honestly he didn’t even notice it, deans happy and animated dancing, his silly moves when the song slowed, his fake-flirting with cas and looking cas up and down when it said “that magic in your pants it’s makin’ me blush” and his goofy eyebrow raise all together had cas a smiling, sweat soaked mess, so glad he didn’t wear that shit his mom wanted him to.

Castiel knew this part by now, it has played enough in the song he knew the words, and his body moved without needing to be told, leaning in face-to-face with dean and singing the lyrics “I feel your hea~art beat to the beat of the drumbs!” Stomp stomp. “Oh what a shame that you came here with someo~one!” Dean threw his arm out on either side of cas, not touching him, but obviously making it seem like the song was about castiel. Dean and cas leaning back to ‘hug themselves’ when the lyrics “so while your here in my ar~rms!” Castiel was smiling ear-to-ear, dean screaming every lyric by heart, he was so happy with his song playing.