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#but the thing is what is it i’m so scared of and what am i protecting myself from? especially from people who have shown nothing but love
sharlsworld · 2 days
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ my dawg - ʟɴ4 ☆
✿ lando norris x influencer reader
✿ lando norris is down bad for his girlfriend and he has no shame about it
ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ୨୧ this is kinda pt 2 to walk em like a dog
🝮
yn
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liked by oscarpiastri and 1,028,967 others
yn took my dawg out today
landonorris didn’t expect you to become a gymnast in the middle of dinner 😔
⤷ lilymhe HAHAHA
landonorris spit on me your so hot
⤷ yn kinky boy
georgerussell63 Perioddd 💅🏽
⤷ yn ok that’s enough
alexandrasaintmleux I miss you
⤷ yn i miss you more come over i’ll kick lando out
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux Walking to the door right now i’ll be there in 10
⤷ landonorris hello?
⤷ charles_leclerc Guess I’ll see you at the paddock then?? 😟
francisca.cgomes let him out the crate for a little bit
⤷ yn yeah he’s been behaving recently
⤷ landonorris 😈😈
oscarpiastri I think you need to take him on more walks he has to much energy
⤷ landonorris i know a way to get rid of energy easily
⤷ yn and back in the crate you go!
🝮
yn
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liked by madisonbeer and 2,724,005 others
yn sushi dates with my love 🎀
alexandrasaintmleux My favorite date 🥰
⤷ charles_leclerc Uhm, alright then
landonorris but that’s our thing?? ☹️
⤷ yn you don’t even eat sushi?
⤷ landonorris i still take you out to eat it even though the sight of it makes me gag??
⤷ yn and then you make me brush my teeth before i can kiss you?
⤷ landonorris just say you hate me
⤷ yn i hate you
⤷ landonorris please take me back baby
francisca.cgomes i miss my girls 😣😣
⤷ yn we miss you more!!
alex_albon did lando stay at charles’ 😂
⤷ charles_leclerc Yes and he would not shut up about how he misses y/n
georgerussell63 Me next
⤷ landonorris no go away i’m next
⤷ lilymhe actually i am 🤣
🝮
landonorris
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landonorris hopelessy devoted to you ❤️
yn my one love 🤍
⤷ charles_leclerc Hold on…is y/n norris being sweet?? Did someone screenshot this?
⤷ yn did i get married and just don’t remember?
⤷ landonorris yes.
yn can we get a puppy
⤷ landonorris whatever you want baby
⤷ yn 🤍
francisca.cgomes ok, cute
carlossainz55 I remember when you were hopelessly devoted to me.
⤷ landolovesyn LMFAO NOT CARLOS BEING SALTY 😭😭
pierregasly down BAD
lilymhe hm. well, i guess this is cute
alexandrasaintmleux I approve of this post
oscarpiastri WE KNOW
chilipowder55 poor oscar 😭 he’s so done with both of them
flowers444yn all the wags don’t wanna share y/n with her bf 💀
🝮
f1updates
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liked by landonorris and 28,001 others
f1updates lando & y/n out in monaco tonight
lordperceval lando’s always in the likes whenever a sighting of them is posted 😭
⤷ georgerussell63 he’s so unserious
⤷ alex_albon GEORGE?!
⤷ charles_leclerc ALEXANDER?!
⤷ maxverstappen1 CHARLES?!
⤷ carlossainz55 MAX?!
⤷ pierregasly CARLOS?!
⤷ oscarpiastri PIERRE?!
⤷ carmenmmundt OSCAR?!
⤷ lilymhe CARMEN?!
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux LILY?!
⤷ francisca.cgomes ALEX?!
⤷ lewishamilton So we all stalk every update about lando and y/n?
⤷ georgerussell63 LEWIS?!?!
sharls_lerklerk why did lewis just expose all of them
🝮
lando.jpg
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liked by danielricciardo and 492,705 others
lando.jpg she’s getting it tonight
yn OH OK!! how sweet 😰
⤷ landonorris always for you 😉
yn guys i’m scared
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux i’m omw
alexandrasaintmleux My girl 💘💗💕💓
francisca.cgomes the prettiest girl ever
alexandrasaintmleux so that’s where my dress went
⤷ yn what dress? 😟
maxverstappen1 Hair is on point
charles_leclerc Alright I fw the fit
georgerussell63 Period my queen never lets us down 💅🏽
oscarpiastri Ate down or whatever 💋
danielricciardo Drop the hair care routine girl
lilymhe beautiful beautiful girl
carlossainz55 Slay all day 😻😻
landowonone what is going on 😭
🝮
yn
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liked by georgerussell63 and 3,390,781 others
yn alexandra got a puppy, so i made lando get me a puppy too
alexandrasaintmleux Play dates everyday
landonorris 🤍🤍🤍
charles_leclerc Leo and lil Pete are gonna be the best friends
carlossainz55 So you get him Saturday and Sunday and I get him the rest of the week? 😁
⤷ yn um no ❤️
carmenmmundt How cute 🥹
alex_albon I think he would look cuter with me…in my house…in my arms
⤷ yn i don’t think so
maxfewtrell The chokehold you have on him isn’t okay 😔
⤷ yn neither was the one he had on me last night
⤷ maxfewtrell !?!? 😨
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moonstruckme · 3 days
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ok ok, so you said you wanted some ideas for a camp counselor James, so I am here to supply one! What if reader was teaching the kids lashings and knots, and when cutting the rope with a pocket knife, their hand slips and they cut themselves, so reader tells one of the kids to get the nurse (because their hand is bleeding and they can't stand from the grass) but the kid comes back with James instead (because the kid panicked and James is the first person she saw) and James helps reader get to the nurse while fretting over their hand
Thank you for requesting angel!
cw: blood
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 827 words
A hiss escapes you as the knife slices across your hand. You drop it and your fist clenches closed on instinct, but not before the kids watching you see. 
“Are you okay?” 
“Did you cut yourself?” 
“Do we call 999?”
“No, it’s okay,” you say, keeping the pain out of your voice. “Accidents happen. This is why I’m the only one who gets to use the knife, see?” You take a second to pray it’s not bad, but when you open your hand blood spills onto the grass beneath. 
You squeeze it shut again, breathing through the wave of dizziness that nearly takes you under. The only thing worse than scaring your kids by bleeding all over the place would be traumatizing them by passing out on your way to the nurse. 
“Mia.” You look to the most responsible girl in your cabin with the most reassuring smile you can piece together. “Can you go get the nurse for me, please?” 
She nods, eyes wide, and sets off. You spend the next couple of minutes trying to distract your kids and yourself, but when an adult-sized shadow falls over you and you look up in relief you very nearly swoon for different reasons. 
“Hey.” James’ brow is puckered. It doesn’t suit him, you think, but he looks lovely anyways. He probably can’t help that. “I heard we’ve had an accident.” 
“Sorry,” Mia pipes up, “I couldn’t remember where the nurse’s office was, and I—” 
“It’s okay,” you tell her, making your voice slow and soothing to combat her squeakish one. “You did your best, and I appreciate it.” 
James flashes her a smile about ten times more effective than your own. “You have good instincts. Really, no one’s more equipped to help your fearless leader than me.” He sets a hand on your shoulder, softening his voice as he leans down close to you. “Are you alright?” 
“I’m worried I’m gonna pass out,” you admit. 
“Can I have a look?” 
“It’s bleeding a lot, James. I don’t want to open it.” 
“Alright, you’re okay. Let’s get up.” James uses his grasp on your shoulder to pull you to his chest, holding your elbow with his other hand as he stands the both of you up. The change in altitude makes you immediately woozy, and a quick sigh escapes you as he scrambles to get a better grip, one arm banding around your waist. “Do you need me to carry you?” 
“No, sorry. I think I just…sorry.” 
You expect him to tease you, but maybe you should have thought better of him. “What’re you sorry for? You’re alright, lovely, just let me know if you change your mind. Or just collapse on me, and I’ll get the point.” 
He starts walking you towards the nurse’s office, your unsturdy legs following behind you. James’ body is warm and solid. You can feel the flex of his bicep pressed tight to your back, and the material of his shirt is softly worn. You don’t realize you’ve dropped your cheek onto it until you register the chatter you’re leaving behind and pick your head up. 
“The kids,” you murmur, making to turn around. James keeps you held to him, but stops. 
“Hey, guys,” he calls back to them, “my cabin’s in arts and crafts with Charlie, do you wanna go down there and tell her I sent you?” 
There’s a few excited calls of agreement, and James waits until your campers start heading in that direction before you both continue. 
“You cut yourself with your knife?” he asks, peering over your head to see where you’ve tucked your injured hand tight to your chest. It’s still dripping blood as you walk, though you think slower than before. “Is it deep?” 
“A little.” You sigh. The sun feels hotter than it did a few minutes ago, and yet James’ touch has the beginnings of a shiver curled up at the base of your spine. “I think I probably scarred my kids for life.” 
You can feel James’ chuckle reverberate through his chest. “Don’t worry, they’ll be fine. Kids are hardy, especially these ones. One of my boys put hot sauce in another’s coke yesterday and the kid barely even flinched. Drank the whole thing.” 
You feel your lips tugging upwards. “Well, my girls are better than your boys.” 
He huffs a laugh. “I could so prove you wrong, but I don’t make a habit of arguing with the wounded.” 
James gets you to the nurse’s office in one piece. You expect him to go then, but he insists on staying to make sure you’re okay. He keeps you tucked into his side, scrubbing his hand up and down your arm intermittently and kissing your hair when the nurse has to clean your cut. He lets you leave your cheek resting on his chest, and you still feel dizzy for a myriad of reasons, but your injury is no longer one of them.
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scientia-rex · 3 days
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I made that post about how smoking is bad—actually, no, I’ve made two relatively popular posts about how smoking is bad for you. Raises your chances of dying from multiple factors including heart disease and stroke in addition to lung (and mouth, throat, and bladder) cancer.
I am always so baffled by the responses going “well I could die from something else!” Yes. You could. Statistically speaking, you will most likely die of heart disease, stroke, or cancer, if you live in the US. Your average life expectancy is somewhere around 78 for women, 76 for men. Many people die younger than that, for a lot of reasons. Many of my patients have illnesses that will shorten their lives. I hate to split it into “fault,” as if there’s some kind of perfect way to live a blameless life. (There isn’t.) The numbers, however, are both clear and pitiless. People who smoke are more likely to die younger than they otherwise might have.
Medicine is a numbers game. My job is not to psychically predict exactly what will punch your ticket and when. It is to improve your odds. I want you to both live as long a life as possible but also as high-quality a life as possible. I want for you to live a life you enjoy.
It’s that simple; it’s not sinister. I’m not out here going “I’ll tell them not to smoke so they can have LESS FUN before getting hit by a bus at 30!”
Because smoking isn’t actually fun. What it is, is a very quick (and faster = more addictive) reduction in physical feedback systems that heighten anxiety. Withdrawal of an unpleasant stimulus is rewarding. (Technically, it’s a negative reward; the negative doesn’t refer to a moral judgment, but the addition or subtraction of a stimulus.) Something that is very rewarding very fast will be very addictive. It’s why crack cocaine is also so addictive—it is also a very fast and very potent reward. It’s also why benzodiazepines like Xanax are so addictive to so many people; it’s a slower peak blood level but the removal of severe anxiety is profoundly rewarding.
So smoking can make you feel better when you do it. But your body will try to fix any broken signals. It doesn’t just want to be able to signal to you when you need to feel stressed: it has to be able to signal you, or your long-ago ancestors would have been eaten by predators. So it ramps up the signaling. Now you’re not smoking because you feel better than baseline; you’re smoking to get back to baseline.
That’s why quitting sucks. When you quit smoking, all of the sudden your body’s signals of stress that got dialed up to 11 to overcome the nicotine are just out there at full blast, making you feel scared and jittery and irritable. It’s why when you quit benzos (or daily alcohol) cold turkey you can get life-threatening seizures. It’s why when you stop alcohol you’re likely to have sleep disruptions that can persist for weeks to months.
That’s why things that help reduce the suckage can help. Nicotine patches, lozenges, or gum. Chantix. Wellbutrin. Slowly stepping down the nicotine level on your vape. Eating more, eating things you like. (I would 1000% rather have a patient be fat than be smoking. I know other people will be shittier to you if you gain weight. Living is worth it.) Being kind to yourself helps you quit smoking. You need to recognize that “quitting smoking you” is not your baseline you. It is you with an invisible illness that will take weeks to months to get over.
And sometimes you can’t face that hump right now. But if you want to maximize your odds of the longest and healthiest possible life, knowing that any number of terrible things can happen to you at any time, making the effort—over and over again, if you need to—is the best shot you have.
There are a couple of conditions where smoking does markedly reduce symptoms. The well-known ones are schizophrenia and Crohn’s disease. If you feel not just better, but better like this is a medication for you, like you poop blood or hear things without it, talk to your primary care provider, because there are other medicines that might be safer and/or more effective for you. The landscape around pharmaceutical research has shifted dramatically over the last 30 years. We have more options than we’ve ever had before. Maybe this doesn’t have to be the expensive, dangerous medication that half-works for you. And if what you’re self-medicating is your anxiety, nicotine is a pretty crappy medication for that, because it doesn’t fix you; it changes your baseline to an even shittier place.
You have bodily autonomy. You can make your own choices. I will never go to a patient’s house and slap the cigarette out of their hand. But if what you want is the longest and healthiest possible life, smoking makes your odds worse.
The number of people who think that I, as a doctor, would be unaware of how profoundly unfair bodily health can be amazes me. It’s like the first Father Brown story, where Father Brown is explaining to the villain that someone whose main job is to hear about all of the terrible sins people have to confess cannot remain naive. My job is watching people age, or filling out their death certificates. One or the other. I prefer watching them age, but everyone will die. Someday my doctor will be filling out my death certificate. I’ve removed one potential contributing factor from that line—maybe I’ll get diabetes, maybe I’ll get cancer, maybe I’ll have a workplace accident, but “smoking” isn’t going to be on that line anymore. That’s the best I can do. I can’t psychically predict my own death, either; just play the numbers, try to do my best, and hope.
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doctorbitchcrxft · 3 days
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Hell House | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, unwanted sexual advances toward reader (nothing crazy, just uncomfortable flirtation)
Word Count: 6125
Series Rewrite Masterlist
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After leaving John and the Daevas behind, you and the boys began heading to Texas to investigate a potential case.
Sam slept in the front seat of the car as Dean cruised down Interstate 35. He looked at you suspiciously, smirking in the rearview mirror.
“What?” you whispered.
“Watch this,” Dean told you, grabbing a plastic spoon from the backseat next to you and put it in Sam’s mouth. Snickering, he took a picture with his phone before turning the music up loud. You rolled your eyes and laughed as Sam jerked up waving his arms and trying to spit the spoon out.
“Ha ha, very funny,” the younger Winchester said un-amusedly.
Dean gave what you could only describe as a giggle. You thought it was adorable. “Sorry, not a lot of scenery here in East Texas; kinda gotta make your own.”
“Man, we're not kids anymore, Dean. We're not going to start that crap up again,” Sam stated.
“Start what up?” you asked.
“Prank stuff. It's stupid, and it always escalates,” Sam explained to you.
Dean mocked, “Aw, what's the matter Sammy, scared you're going to get a little Nair in your shampoo again, huh?” replied Dean.
“Alright, just remember you started it.”
“Ah ha, bring it on baldy.”
“Guys, I am not going to mediate or participate in a prank war,” you jumped in.
“Nobody asked you to, sweetheart,” Dean flippantly responded. “But don’t be surprised if you get caught in the crossfire.”
“Dean—!”
“Where are we anyway?” Sam cut you off.
“A few hours outside of Richardson. Gimme the lowdown again?” Dean asked.
“About a month or two ago, this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house.”
“Haunted by what?” you asked.
“Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit,” he answered.
“Oh, great,” you grumbled.
Sam laughed. “Legend goes, it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters. Anyway, this group of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar.”
You scoffed. “Oh, even better.”
“Anybody ID the corpse?” asked Dean.
“Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains.”
“Maybe the cops are right,” the older brother suggested.
“Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids' firsthand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere,” Sam shrugged.
“Where’d you find those?” you asked.
The brunet hesitated, seeming a little embarrassed. “Well, I knew we were going to be passing through Texas. So, um, last night, I surfed some local… paranormal websites. And I found one.”
“And what's it called?” Dean prompted.
“HellHoundsLair.com.”
“Lemme guess, streaming live out of Mom's basement.”
Sam grinned. “Yeah, probably."
“Yeah. Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit 'em in the persqueeter,” Dean quipped.
“Look, we let Dad take off. Which was a mistake, by the way. And now we don't know where the hell he is, so in the meantime, we gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There's no harm checking this thing out.”
“Agreed. But not on the mistake part— I’m not getting involved in that argument,” you said.
“Good call,” Dean responded. “So where do we find these kids?”
“Same place you always find kids in a town like this,” Sam said. He directed his brother to a fast food outlet called “Rodeo Drive.”
You interviewed all of the kids who had been involved in the incident, and the only detail they could agree on in their story was that a teen named Craig had been the one to introduce them to the house.
***
The next day, you went to the record stop Craig worked at and posed as interviewers trying to get his side of the story on a paranormal feature you were writing. Sam had asked him about the house he’d taken his friends to. 
“You mean the Hell House?” the teen answered.
“That’s the one,” answered Dean.
“I didn't think there was anything to the story,” Craig shrugged.
“Why don't you tell us the story,” Sam told him.
Craig quieted his voice and looked around for eavesdroppers. “Well, supposedly back in the '30s this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that's when he went off the deep end.”
“How?” you questioned.
“Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung 'em up, one after the other. And when he was all finished, he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside.”
‘Oh, that’s just great.’
“Where'd you hear all this?” Dean questioned.
“My cousin Dana told me. I don't know where she heard it from. Ya gotta realize, I— I didn't believe this for a second.”
“But now you do,” the younger brother finished for him.
“I don't know what the hell to think, man. You guys, I— I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, ok? That girl was real. And she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?”
***
You and the boys headed to the Hell House. It was more like a dilapidated shack at this point; it looked like it had been made with wooden boards that were probably rotting and hollowed out by termites. The path up to the house was muddy, and the house itself was in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woods. Add “woods” on top of “misogynistic ghost,” and you were thoroughly worried about this hunt.
“Can't say I blame the kid,” Sam commented, taking in the appearance of the house.
“Yeah, so much for curb appeal,” quipped Dean. “You gonna be okay, sweetheart? You look like you’re gonna hurl.”
You looked up at Dean. “Well, misogynistic ghosts that kill any girl who goes inside don’t exactly tickle my fancy.”
Dean’s tone became a little more sincere, but still filled with his typical sarcastic charm. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine. I’m a big girl; I can handle myself. Just uneasy, that’s all.”
“Hey, (Y/N)?” Sam asked. “I realized something back in Chicago.”
“What’s that?” you asked while you ducked under the police tape blocking the door. 
“You never told us where you’re from. You know we’re from Lawrence, so, what’s your story?”
“Honestly, Sammy, I have no idea,” you responded. “My parents never told me. I don’t have a copy of my birth certificate either. If it weren’t for my mom using my middle name when she was mad at me, I wouldn’t even know what it was. Don’t know my social security number, either. I’m not even confident the government has record of my existence.”
“Huh,” replied Sam. “How’d your mom even have time for a kid if she’s been hunting since you were born?”
You took out your flashlight and continued looking around while you talked to Sam. “That’s the thing, she didn’t. My mom was never really a mom to me, and she certainly wasn’t to my little brother. Even though he was only two years younger than me, I kind of had to fill the role of ‘mom’,” you explained.
Sam looked at you sadly. “I’m sorry.”
“Meh, it’s whatever,” you shrugged. “You got something?”
Dean was looking around with his EMF meter. It was beeping, but not making sounds indicative of a usual reading. “Ye-ah,” he sounded unsure. “The EMF’s no good.”
“Why?” Sam questioned.
Dean looked at the power lines just outside the house. “I think that thing's still got a little juice in it. It's screwing with all the readings.”
“Yeah that'd do it,” Sam sighed.
“Looks like old man Murdock was a bit of a tagger here in his time, though,” Dean stated, looking at the symbols covering the walls.
“And after his time too. That reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries, but this sigil of sulfur didn't show up in San Francisco until the '60s,” Sam informed.
You and Dean stared at Sam for a moment before the older brother quipped, “That is exactly why you never get laid.”
You patted Sam’s shoulder. “I think it’s cool,” you assured him. 
He returned your smile. “Thanks, (Y/N).”
Dean moved to another wall with a cross with a dot in the middle. The bottom piece of the cross looked almost like a fishhook. “Hey, what about this one? You guys seen this one before?”
Sam shook his head, but you felt a sense of vague recognition, too. “Somewhere, I think.”
“Yeah, me too,” Dean said.
Sam rubbed the symbol. “It's paint. Seems pretty fresh too.”
Dean sighed. “I don't know, Sam. You know I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind, but... the cops may be right about this one.”
A sudden noise had you on high alert. You and Dean flanked one side of the door, guns drawn, and Sam took the other. Dean nodded, and the three of you burst through only to be met with blinding lights in your eyes.
“Oh, cut. It's just a coupla humans,” a nasally male voice said. 
The two men before you both donned backpacks and baggy cargo pants. They were around your height and seemed like complete involuntarily-celibate nerds to you.
“What are you guys doing here?” the same guy asked. He held an electrical device in one hand while the other man held a video camera.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean’s gruff reply came.
“Uh, we belong here; we're professionals?” the man said matter-of-factly.
You scoffed. “Professional what?”
The man eyed you up and down before answering, and you fought the cringe crawling up your spine. “Paranormal Investigators.” He handed you a business card. “There you go, take a look at that, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that,” you gritted through your teeth.
Dean took the card from you, saying, “Easy, tiger.” He read it and muttered, “Oh, you gotta be kidding me.”
“Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spengler? Hellhoundslair.com. You guys run that website,” Sam noted.
The man who had been looking you up and down who’d identified himself as Ed nodded proudly.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, we're huge fans,” Dean grinned.
“And ahh, we know who you guys are too,” Ed said confidently.
You shot a sideways glance to Dean. “Oh yeah?”
“Amateurs.”
You and Dean immediately lost interest.
Ed continued, “Looking for ghosts and cheap thrills.”
“Yep. So if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here,” Harry finished.
“Really? What have you got so far?” you asked.
“Harry, why dontcha tell 'em about EMF?”
Sam played dumb, too. “EMF?” You could tell he was fighting a smile.
“Electromagnetic field? Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here.” Harry gestured to the machine Ed was holding, who turned it on.
“Whoa. Whoa. It's 2.8mg,” Harry noted.
“2.8. It's hot in here,” Ed grinned.
Dean whistled in mock admiration. “So you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or…?”
“Once. We were, uh— We were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table—” 
“By itself,” Harry finished.
“Well, we, we we we didn't actually see it, we heard it. And something like that… it, uh… it changes you,” Ed said solemnly.
“Yeah. I think I get the picture. We should go, let them get back to work,” Dean broke their stupor. “C’mon, (Y/N).”
He led you and his brother out of the room with the two guys in it. Dean stood behind you protectively.
“What?” you asked him as he led you out of the house.
“Didn’t like how he was looking at you,” he grumbled before seeming to realize what he had just admitted. “And… uh, misogynistic ghosts, and all.”
A smile spread across your face. “Thanks.”
***
You and the boys headed to a diner for some cheap burgers and beer before you decided to hit the road. You couldn’t find any missing persons matching the description of the Jane Doe that had been in the house, nor could Sam find anything on a Mordechai Murdoch. The real man had existed under a different name. You ruled the case a bust, and just wanted to relax a little before leaving town. 
“How’s that thing on your leg healing?” Dean asked you, referencing the deep gashes you’d received in Chicago.
“Meh, it’s okay,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your beer. “It’s way better than it was a few days ago.”
“Good,” he nodded before clearing his throat. “So? Sammy, you got anything?” 
His brother was scrolling the internet in search of a new case when something caught his attention. “Dude.”
“What?” you and Dean asked in unison.
“The Hell House.”
***
Emergency vehicles and officials hurried about, interviewing witnesses and wheeling out a stretcher with a body bag on it. The sinking feeling you got from the Hell House returned to your stomach as you and the boys approached it.
“What happened?” Dean asked a bystander.
“A couple of cops say a girl hung herself in the house,” explained the bystander. “She was a straight A student with a full ride to UT, too. It just don't make sense.” He walked away from the two of you.
“I don’t understand,” you started. “How could we’ve missed something?”
“I don’t know,” Sam shook his head. 
“Back to the drawing board, I guess,” Dean sighed.
You waited for the emergency vehicles to clear out and allow you and the boys the ability to get another look at the house. Two cops remained guarding it, though, to which Sam commented, “I guess the cops don't want anyone else screwing around in there.”
You and the brothers were crouched in the bushes, trying to plan how to get in the house. You then heard whispers that caught your attention, and turned to see Ed and Harry clunkily approaching with cumbersome backpacks and gadgets covering them from head to toe.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean grumbled. “I got an idea.” 
You shot him a confused look while he stood a little taller and cupped a hand to his mouth. “Who ya gonna call!”
You almost burst out in giggles at his stupid reference. 
“Hey, you!” one of the cops called and took off running in the direction of Ed and Harry. The two guys turned and sprinted away. Well, sprinted as much as they could with their heavy packs.
You and the boys rushed into the abandoned house, passing each other weapons from the duffel bag. Dean was transfixed by the symbol on the wall. “Where have I seen that symbol before? It's killing me!”
“Yeah, me too, but we don’t have much time,” you urged him, slapping a shotgun in his hand and pulling him further into the home. You headed down to the basement and took in your dust-covered surroundings. You could feel your allergy beginning to get aggravated while you looked around.
“Hey, Sam. I dare you to take a swig of this,” Dean grinned, holding up a jar he found on one of the shelves.
“What the hell would I do that for?” scoffed the younger brother.
“...I double dare you.”
Sam just shook his head and continued walking.
You flinched and grabbed Dean’s arm at a sound coming from within a cabinet. Dean looked to you and back at the cabinet before the two of you took either side of the cabinet’s doors. At Dean’s nod, you threw the door open. Rats inside it squeaked and scurried away from the light of Sam’s flashlight. 
“Arghh!” Dean yelped. “I hate rats.”
Sam scoffed. “You'd rather it was a ghost?”
Dean considered, but nodded. “Yes!” Dean suddenly looked up at something above your head, and you shrieked at the sight of an ax nearly hitting you squarely on your forehead. Dean yanked you away just in time and shielded you with his body protectively. He shot at the ghost of the tall farmer wearing a colorless straw hat that wasn’t at all deterred by the rocksalt. He shot once more, but it was still there. And then the final time, Mordechai disappeared.
“What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?” Sam questioned frantically.
“I don’t know! Come on, come on!” Dean urged you and his brother. 
You ran toward the stairs, and Mordechai smashed his ax down through the shelves right next to your head. You raised your gun at him and shot multiple times, praying it would work. Nothing worked, and you narrowly missed another swing of the ghost’s ax before you fled.
“(Y/N), let’s go!” Sam called, running ahead of you. You and the boys sprinted out of the door of the house, only to be met with flashlights and a camera in your face.
“Get that damn thing outta my face,” Dean commanded before hurrying away again. You and the boys left the Hell House in the dust. 
“You okay?” Dean asked you when you returned to the car.
You tried to catch your breath, slumping into the backseat. “Holy shit,” you muttered. “I think so. You?”
He nodded. “Fine.”
“But Dean.”
“Hm.”
“You’re sweet, but I don’t need you to protect me. I can hold my own,” you told him.
Dean scoffed. “It’s a misogynistic ghost, (Y/N). I’m obviously gonna be a little concerned.”
You smiled fondly, but held your position. “I know. Just… I can handle it. You don’t have to worry about me.”
He just grunted in response.
***
The next day, you and the boys were hanging out in their motel room. You and Sam were at your laptops researching while Dean sat on his bed scribbling in a notepad.
“What the hell is this symbol? It's buggin' the hell outta me. This whole damn job's buggin' me. What was with those slit wrists? I thought the legend says he hung himself.”
“That’s what you’ve been scribbling all this time?” You looked up from your laptop. “That symbol?”
“Yeah,” Dean answered. “But seriously, what the hell is going on here?”
Sam jumped in, saying, “And the ax too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over?”
“But this mook keeps changing,” Dean added.
“Exactly. I'm telling ya, the way the story goes... wait a minute.”
“What?”
“Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site. Listen to this. 'They say Mordechai Murdock was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an ax before slitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in the house for eternity.”
“What the fuck?” you questioned, sliding Sam’s laptop over to yourself. “How the hell is he changing?”
“I don't know,” Dean broke in, “but I think I might have just figured out where it all started.”
***
Your next stop was the music store Craig worked at.
“Hey Craig? Remember us?” Dean asked the teen who was organizing records.
“Guys, look I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions ok?” Craig answered.
“Oh, don't worry. We're just here to buy an album, that's all.” Dean flipped through a stack of records, and you looked over his shoulder. You suddenly realized where he was going with this. He picked up a Blue Oyster Cult album, and you nodded in acknowledgment as you put together the symbol had been the logo for the band.
“You know, I couldn't figure out what that symbol was, and then, I realized that it doesn't mean anything. It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult,” Dean said, putting the album on the counter across from Craig. “Tell me Craig, you, uh, you into BOC? Or just scaring the hell outta people? Now why 'n't you tell us about that house. Without lying through your ass this time.”
Craig sighed. “Alright, um. My cousin Dana was on break from TCU. Ah, I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do. So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So we painted symbols on the walls; some from some albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks. Then, we found out this guy Murdock used to live there so we— we made up some story to go along with that. So they told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own. I mean I, I thought it was funny at first but... now that girl's dead! It was just a joke, you know. I mean, none of it was real, we made the whole thing up. I swear!”
You knew he hadn’t meant any harm. “Okay. Thank you.”
You and the boys left an emotional Craig standing at the counter. 
“If none of it was real how the hell do you explain Mordechai?” Dean asked.
“I have no idea,” you responded.
***
The next morning, you and the boys headed out to get some breakfast and coffee. Sam was shifting uncomfortably every few seconds in his seat. “What’s your deal, dude?” you asked.
His response was a grimace before he explained he thought Mordechai might be a Tulpa. “Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard they brought the thing to life. Outta thin air.”
“So?” Dean said.
“That was twenty monks. Imagine what ten thousand web surfers could do. I mean, Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard,” Sam replied.
“Now wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?”
Sam shifted again. “I don’t know, maybe.”
“People believe in Santa Claus— how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?” Dean remarked.
“ ‘Cause we’re bad people,” you remarked. Dean seemed convinced by your answer.
“And because of this.” Sam turned his phone to you and Dean to show you a photo of a symbol on one of the walls of the Hell House. “That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this; not even knowing what it was. Now, that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the HellHounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai… I mean I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.”
You shrugged. “That would explain why the bastard keeps changing.”
“Right, as the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work.” Sam shifted at least five separate times in his chair as he spoke. 
“Yeah, because he's not a traditional spirit,” the older brother continued. “Okay. So why don't we just, uh, get this spirit sigil thingie off the wall and off the website?”
“Well, it's not that simple. You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own,” Sam explained.
“Great. So if he really is a thought form, how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”
“Well, it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage.”
Sam showed you and Dean footage from two days ago. “Since they've posted the video, their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone.”
“Great,” you muttered. “But I have an idea. C’mon.” You got up from the table and began heading away.
“Where we going?” Dean questioned.
“To find a copy store.”
Sam got up and began to follow you. “Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something.”
Dean laughed and walked after you.
“You did this?!” Sam called.
The only response he got was a laugh from his brother. 
“You're a friggin jerk!”
“Oh yeah!” Dean pumped a fist in the air.
***
After you hit the copy store to carry out your idea, you and the boys found Ed and Harry’s trailer park residence and rapped against the door loudly.
“Who is it?” Harry’s voice called.
“Come on out here guys, we hear you in there,” Dean called back. When the door opened, Dean looked over the two men’s shoulders. “Ah, would you look at that! Action figures in their original packaging— what a shock.”
You snickered,but nudged him. “Be polite.”
“Guys, we need to talk,” Sam said. 
“Yeah, um, sorry guys. We're ahhh, a little bit busy right now,” Ed responded. “But pretty lady, if you’d like to stay—”
Dean cut him off, gruffly saying, “Okay, well, we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website.”
Ed laughed. “Man, you know, these guys got us busted the other night, spent the night in a holding cell—”
“I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people. And I get stage fright,” the other goon chimed in.
“Why should we trust you guys?”
“Look, guys. We all know what we saw that night; what's in the house. But now, thanks to your website, there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai,” the brunet explained.
“That's right. Which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person, somebody could get hurt,” Dean continued.
“Ed, maybe he's got a point, maybe—”
Ed cut his friend off. “Nope.”
“No,” Harry said despite his position moments earlier.
“We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth,” Ed stated.
“Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now—” Dean’s face hardened, and you could see Ed and Harry nearly shit themselves.
You pulled his arm back. “Just forget about it,” you told him. “You could bitch slap ‘em both, I could tell them that thing about Mordechai, but they’re still not gonna listen. Let’s just go.” You turned away.
“Whoa! Whoa!” the guys called after you. “What’d you say about...?”
“Hang on a second here,” Harry said. “What thing about Mordechai, you guys?”
“Don’t tell ‘em, (Y/N),” Sam said.
“But if they agree to shut the website down, Sam—”
“They're not going to do it, you said so yourself,” Dean chimed in.
“No wait. Wait. Don't listen to him ok? We'll do it. We'll do it,” Ed said, stepping closer to you.
You sighed. “Look, it is a really big deal, alright. And it wasn't easy to dig up. So only if we have your word that you'll shut everything down.”
“Totally,” Ed nodded.
Dean handed over some paperwork you’d doctored at the copy shop reluctantly. “It's a death certificate. From the '30s. We got it at the library. Now according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”
“That's right, he didn't hang or cut himself,” added Dean.
Ed’s eyebrows shot up. “He shot himself?”
“Yep. With a .45 pistol. To this day, they say he's terrified of them,” you said.
Dean continued explaining. “Matter of fact, they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds, it'll kill the son of a bitch.”
Ed and Harry snickered gleefully. Harry spun around and bolted back to the trailer. Ed followed more slowly. 
Once they were out of earshot, you held up crossed fingers to the boys. “Here’s hoping.”
***
You and the boys were waiting for Ed and Harry to put out the bogus story you’d given them at a diner later that evening. You sat in the booth between Sam and the wall, and looked over at his laptop while he reloaded the page repeatedly. Dean sat across from you and his brother, pulling the cord of a plaque on the wall of a fisherman holding a big fish. The fisherman’s mouth moved up and down when Dean pulled the cord. 
You pulled it again to stop it. “If you pull that damn cord one more time, I’ll kill you.”
Dean sent you a challenging look and pulled the cord again. You pulled it again in response.
“Come on, sweetheart, you need more laughter in your life. You know, you're way too tense.”
“What! I do laugh!” you pouted.
“Not as much as this guy.” He pulled the cord again.
You pulled it to stop it for a final time. “Don’t try me.”
Dean sighed. “They post it yet?”
Sam turned the laptop around to Dean. “We've learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms. Alright. How long do we wait?”
“Long enough for the new story to spread,” replied Sam, “and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall, iron rounds will work on the sucker.” Sam lifted his beer and you and Dean lifted yours as well. The three of you tapped them together.
“Sweet,” Dean said. He took a long swig of his beer and Sam grinned. The older of the two tried to put his beer down, but it was stuck to his beer.
Sam cracked up, as did you, and Dean stared at his brother incredulous. “You didn't.”
Sam continued to laugh and held up his tube of super glue. “Oh, I did!”
Dean shook his hand trying to get the beer off and turned his aggravation to you. “You knew about this?”
You felt guilty, but said, “Hey, I told you, I’m Switzerland in this prank war.”
“Oh, it’s on, sweetheart.”
“Dean! I didn’t even do anything! I’m Switzerland! Look, I’ll even help you get it off your hand, okay? Stop pouting.”
Dean grunted, “Fine.”
***
Dean bought the laughing fisherman from the diner and brought it to the woods beyond the Hell House later that night. You wrapped the cord around a rock to weigh the pulley mechanism down to lure the cops away from the house.
You entered the house on alert with your gun drawn, Dean trailing just behind you. “I barely have any skin left on my palm,” he said snarkily.
“So you think Mordechai's home?” you asked as you entered another room.
“I don't know,” Sam answered.
“Me either,” a voice said from behind you.
You wheeled around and pointed your gun at the source of the sound. 
“Whoa! Whoa!” Ed said.
“What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?” you yelled.
“We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, ok?” Harry said.
“Motherfucker—” You were cut off by the sound of knives being sharpened coming from the basement. Your guard immediately went back up. 
“Oh crap,” Ed said. “Don’t worry (Y/N), I’ll protect you.”
“Oh, get off me, dickhead.” You shrugged his hand off your shoulders. 
He crowded way too closely behind you and followed you and the brothers to the basement door. 
“Ah guys, you wanna— you wanna open that door for us?” Ed grinned uncomfortably.
“Why don't you?” Dean turned to him, shooting daggers at him.
Mordechai burst through the door at that moment, holding an ax and screaming. You and the boys began emptying your gun chambers into his stomach, but the guns had no effect on him. You then swept the other rooms in search of Ed and Harry.
“What the fuck, didn’t you guys post that bullshit story we gave you?” you asked them when you found them.
“Of course we did,” Ed scoffed.
Sam and Dean appeared behind you.
“But then our server crashed,” Harry explained.
“So it didn't take?” Dean asked rhetorically.
The two men exchanged looks and murmured to themselves.
“So these, these guns don't work.” Dean laughed coldly and raked a hand through his hair. “Great. Sam, any ideas?”
“We are getting outta here,” Harry said. “Come on, Ed.”
Harry and Ed ran past you and Dean to the other room. You noticed Mordechai’s apparition following them before you heard two girlish screeches coming from their direction.
“Hey! Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch,” you told the ghost.
“Gladly,” Ed said, not realizing you were talking to Mordechai.
You grabbed the hilt of the ax as he tried to take a swing at you, pushing against him with all your might. You were then pinned against the wall, the ax across your throat and constricting your airway, 
“Get out of here, now!” you told Ed and Harry. They sprinted out of the door as you struggled against Mordechai, who lifted you up in the air by the ax.
“Guys! Help!” you screamed.
Moments later, Dean appeared. He held up a spray bottle and lit it, making a plume of fire appear.
“Get out of here, now!” Dean told you. You ran past him. You met Sam in another room, clutching your throat.
“You okay?” Sam asked you. He stooped to get eye-level with you.
“Yeah,” you choked out. “Peachy.”
Dean sped into the room next to you. “Mordechai can't leave the house, we can't kill him— We improvise,” he said. He held up his lighter, flicked it, and threw it back into the room behind you. It burst into flames, and you ran after the boys outside.
“That's your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?” Sam asked incredulously.
“Well, nobody will go in anymore. I mean, look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty, but it works,” Dean replied simply.
“Well, add arsonists to our rap sheet,” you said. 
“What if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?” questioned Sam.
“Then we'll just have to come back,” Dean shrugged. 
You turned back to the house and watched it burn.
“Kinda makes you wonder. Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just cuz people believed in them,” said Sam. You looked back to him, amazed at how he could be profound in the midst of your situation.
***
You and the boys made one last pit stop by Harry and Ed’s trailer park before you were planning to head out of town. The two guys in question came over to your picnic table carrying grocery bags.
“I was thinking that Mordechai has a really super high attack bonus,” Ed said. “Man, I got the munchies right now.” He turned to the boys. “Gentlemen. And m’lady.”
You cringed. 
“Should we tell 'em.” Harry could barely contain his gloating.
“Hey, might as well, you know, they're going to read about it in the trades,” Ed smirked.
“So this morning we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer.”
“Oh yeah, wrong number?” Dean snorted.
“No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it.”
They put grocery bags into their completely overloaded car. 
“And create the RPG,” Harry added.
“The what?” Dean asked.
“Role playing game,” came Ed’s simple reply. “A little lingo for you. Anyhoo, ah, excuse us, we're off to la-la land.”
“Well, congratulations guys. That sounds really great,” Sam nodded.
“Yeah. That's awesome, best of luck to you,” you said.
“Oh yeah, luck. That has nothing to do with it. It's about talent. Sheer unabashed talent,” Ed grinned. “And you…” he sauntered up to you. “...Call me. You could have a bright future in film.”
You forced a smile at him.
“Later, baby,” he grinned. He got in the car next to his buddy and sped away.
“I have a confession to make,” Sam said as the three of you watched them drive off.
“What's that,” prompted Dean.
“I, uh… I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer.”
You and Dean laughed. “Yeah, well, I'm the one who put the dead fish in their back seat,” the latter snickered.
“And I may have been the one to put the cops on ‘em about the Murdoch house fire. And the fact that they don’t have a license plate on that car. Or on their camper.”
Dean and Sam burst out laughing at you. You joined in with them.
“Truce?” The brunet turned to his brother.
“Yeah, truce,” he answered. “At least for the next hundred miles.”
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth
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queenofallimagines · 3 days
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Alexis ness x witch reader
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A/N: WHY THE FUCK DID I NOT THINK OF THIS BEFORE?? I TRYING TO FIND A WAY TO MIX MY WITCH HCS WITH BLUE LOCK AND OFC THE EX HARRY POTTER KID WITH THE STEM CAREER PARENTS WHO CRUSHED HIS DREAMS WOULD FOAM AT THE MOUTH!! Was word vomiting onto a page and this came out and I’m like??? Fuck yeah??
TAGLIST: @priv-rose
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Alexis Ness:
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- I am SO excited for this🗣️
- First of all fuck Harry Potter and fuck JK rat ass Rowling
- Good now That’s that’s out of the way
- He would literally be star struck like he def wouldn’t tell you he believes in stuff like that bc of his childhood
- But like when he sees your so chill he might joke around with superstitions
- But when you know more of them than he does,,,,?
- “Don’t forget! Salt over your left shoulder!”
- “Plant rosemary by your garden gate,lavender for luck and blow cinnamon into your house on the first of the month.”
- “I- what?”
- Putting some sigils for focus and luck in the shoes
- In the inside of the compression suit
- Reading incantations before a game to help(aka mumbling them while pressing kisses to his face)
- Putting a hex on the other team or players you don’t like (Kaiser)
- Kisses as a good luck charm
- Kissing isagi eyelids and forehead so he can smell his goals😔💕
- Charming a necklace he wears during games
- Putting something in his phone case for good measure so he can accidentally not respond to his family or kaisers texts💕
- You could put a little soccer ball charm on your altar for him🥺
- Alexis ness: Love please don’t hex the opposing team I want to win on my own
- Also ness: so like if you COULD hypothetically make isagi twist his ankle,,,,,
- He’s so funny and silly
- Asking you to turn people into frogs
- “It doesn’t work like that beloved”
- I like to think he would go to haunted places and drag you along
- If this is before he knows you’re a witch
- He pretends he just wanted to see the location and he don’t belive in ghosts n stuff
- Even tho he researched like 600 ghost protection methods before yall got here
- The two of you go in, joking around and having fun in the worn down building but the two of you stop dead in your tracks as you hear something?Footsteps...that aren't yours or his.
- Ness clutching you like a damn lifeline
- Your hearts are both pounding in your chests as you walk through the halls, unsure of what is making that noise that doesn’t sound like it’s coming from an animal…
- Mama ain’t raise no Bitch
- So you just straight up yell💀
- “Fuck off! go bother someone else!”
- Poor baby Ness quickly clamps his hand over your mouth, his eyes wide at your outburst. Whatever was making noise in the abandoned hospital immediately stops making noise tho 💅🏿
- Ness gives you the “you’ve lost your damn mind” look
- “Hey! Maybe don’t make whatever it is more pissed off-!”
- “That’s how you banish ghosts! so unless it’s something more dangerous you can tell them to kick rocks! We’re technically on their territory but like same thing I guess. They can’t do much but scare us and I’ve got like 10 protection charms they can’t really do much.”
- Pause
- Rewind
- Excuse me?
- “Y’all got about three seconds to get the fuck up out my way and two of ‘em are already gone because I don’t count shit but money so get to stepping Casper!”
- He’s going to propose to you
- “ Wait! You’ve got protection charms-!?”
- Ness is side eyeing you hard asf rn😭
- Not in a bad way but a “when was this??” Type of way bc he knew nothing of this
- “Ok then…but what about those ghost hunting shows! like there’s those that say that if they get pissed off they can hurt you for being on their ‘property’ if I remember correctly..”
- Like he’s pulling out his ghost busters encyclopedia lmao
- “Those are fake and I’m a witch they can’t fucking touch me. I’ve talked to demons🙄Some old grumpy spirit can’t do much but give me nightmares and even then they’ll have to box me about it”
- Lmao he’s like full stop staring at you wide eyed
- Kaiser baby you’ve been dethroned I fear
- A new emperor about to spin the block😔✊🏿
- Oh! And not let him hear you WORK with deities
- He will be like a kid in a candy store
- Like trauma suddenly gone lmao
- His ugly ass momma saying all that vile shit to him as a baby suddenly never happened
- He’s living his Peter Pan dreams!!
- Ness’ jaw drops to the floor as he hears you list out the demons you’ve worked with.
- Kinda thinks you’re making fun of him at first so he bristles at you but when he sees you’re not even smiling about it he’s even more shocked
- “So..you made a deal with them or something-? If you did that’s like….your soul is basically his now, right!?”
- “Not really? I just had to ask nicely.”
- Lmao he’s like trying to rewire his brain right now
- Nagging voices at the back of his head telling him
- Magic isn’t real and there’s probably a logical explanation for all of this like you’re so clearly kidding
- “Y-You’re like…a legit witch? Like you can do magic and summon stuff!?”
- “Yep”
- He stares for another few seconds before a smile creeps onto his face, his eyes going wide with amazement?
- Like you can actually see the stars
- “Dude this is SO COOL! You’re like a bad ass witch! Wait…CAN YOU DO MAGIC RIGHT NOW!?”
- Dragging you through the hospital as suddenly he done forgot about the shorts or whatever
- You flinch at something dripping but he don’t even turn around to look at it he’s rambling to himself for the most part
- “Alex baby It’s not like Harry Potter but I do curse people and do old ancient spells and stuff. Like I’m technically doing magic right now? I have a protective charm on us so nothing can try anything funny-“
- “A PROTECTIVE CHARM?! YOU CAN DO PROTECTION MAGIC TOO!”
- Lord
- He grabs your hand and starts yanking it
- Chill out???
- he’s excited about this magic stuff and as he holds your hand, he seems so innocent and curious about all of this now.
- “Show me some magic…PLEASE?”
- “Like what spell do you want? And again not like flying magic. It’s more…I guess stuff close to that? Still within the realm of reality. But I mean technically your parents do magic too right? They’re scientists. And just before you know how something works doesn’t mean it’s less magical yknow?”
- Ignoring the fact that last part is what sparked this entire head canon I’m right leave me alone
- “Eh..scientists are just nerds who figure out how things work, not really magical.”
- He’s gunna start pouting, he didn’t really believe in his parents nerdy sciencey stuff
- but your magic that’s WAY more interesting! Magic! Actual magic! How cool is that!
- “Magic isn’t just something you can’t understand. Like think of it. We don’t know shit about gravity and it’s still just a theory but if I drop something it falls right? Same principal. Things seen and unseen in this earth are magic. Like you can use chemistry in spell work all the time. like urine and bleach make chloramine gas and I’ve used that in curses.”
- See he only heard that last part I’m afraid
- was DEF not expecting the last part to come out from your mouth
- “I’m….You…put piss…into your curses?”
- “I WILL call the ghosts to come jump you on my behalf…”
- That got his ass In check real quick lmao
- “like the possibility that I CAN. Like it could be for a nightmare curse. Throw in some poppy seeds for mental unrest and nightmares, vinegar to sour their mind and maybe black pepper to get them to leave your life really fast.”
- “Huh…so piss, seeds, vinegar and black pepper in a mixture makes a nightmare curse…”
- “Why did you write that down….”
- Hope your grimore or whatever isn’t like private bc he WILL dig through that every chance he gets
- Got all the books on your shelves unorganized and fucked up be he done ran through them
- Like can you have some class??🙄
- Sits and stares at your altar for hours
- Like he’s looking at everything on it to see if he can figure it out
- No that table cloth is blue because that’s all I had leave me alone!!
- Back to deities
- He will always be polite
- Nothing if not a gentlemen
- Will say hello to them before YOU walking into the crib
- Like you know when a boy is so polite he talks to your whole family before even remembering he came there for you?
- That’s him
- “Hi great grandma! I bought you some of that liquor you like”
- Leaves more offerings then you I’m afraid
- He’s so baby deer coded they love him
- Everyone and they momma will ride or die for him.
- So like don’t let Kaiser be within a one Mile radius of your house and talking bad to him
- Matter fact? Don’t even watch his games in your home
- Bc now everyone mad
- “Why is he disrespecting my baby like that?”
- Like house is in shambles
- “Go give this to him”
- “What? But wasn’t this mine-“
- “Did I stutter?”
- He’s so beloved
- “I call him old man a lot. Or like Lucy-“
- “Lucy….king of hell, devil incarnate, Lord of the Underworld, and one of the most infamous fallen angels. And you call him LUCY?!”
- Jokes that your food is made with love but like now he’s not sure it’s a joke at this point….
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blackjackkent · 3 days
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Another answer for one of @astreamofstars 's prompts from this ask for this ask meme: Kiss Roulette.
"33. A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking - Lae'zel/character of your choice"
Some context-less Shadowzel from Act 3 after the House of Grief, bc I haven't fully figured out how to include them in Rakha's playthrough yet. XD This is my first attempt at writing this pairing; hopefully it scans well! :D
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“Do you wish me to call you Jenevelle?”
Shadowheart peers out from her tent at Lae’zel sitting by the fire. “Why would you ask that?” she snaps irritably.
It’s not a fair response, and she knows it as soon as the words are out of her mouth. To her credit, Lae’zel doesn’t flinch from the moment’s sharpness, but answers in kind. “A thing true across all planes, I find, istik, is that most prefer to be called by their names.”
“It’s not my name. My name is Shadowheart.”
“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed.” Lae’zel looks over her shoulder to meet Shadowheart’s eyes. A slight pause. “I am not your enemy… Shadowheart.”
Shadowheart lets out a heavy breath and her head ducks. “No,” she says. “No, you aren’t.”
She should know better, really. They certainly began as enemies, but so much has changed. They have suffered so much together. They have stood side by side, watching their religions burn to cinders in front of them, and found each other amidst the ashes.
It was meaningless sex at first, half-desire and half-anger, driven by a need for some kind of nameless forgetful oblivion where they could forget that their worlds had fallen apart. Gradually, though, it has become more than that. She has been allowed to see gentleness in the gith, and Lae’zel has been allowed to see her vulnerability in turn - and both things have been hard-won knowledge indeed, secrets held between the two of them, shown to no one else. 
Zhak vo'n'ash duj, Lae’zel called her once in a moment of passion. She hasn’t explained what it means, but Shadowheart can guess the implications.
And here she is, lashing out yet again anyway, as if it were still their first few days on the road, when preemptive strikes felt like the only way to survive. Gods, she’s so scared. Gods… it hurts.
“I’m… sorry,” she mutters, hunching her shoulders - as if still in expectation of mocking after all these months. “That wasn’t fair.”
“Chk. You owe no apologies,” Lae’zel says - still curt but quieter. “I am no yank to be felled with a harsh word. And it is not the first I have had from you, nor will it be the last.” She turns back to the fire and prods carefully at the meat roasting there, turning it carefully. “Nor would I wish otherwise.”
Shadowheart finds herself mesmerized by watching the other woman's fingers, surprisingly dexterous in counterpoint to her battering-ram combat style. “Do you know your parents?” she asks abruptly. “Did you leave family behind, in Kliir?” 
“The yanki are raised together in creche.” With quick, efficient motions, Lae'zel pulls the meat from the fire and lays it out on a platter nearby. “A cadre of nestmates is our first and only family.” She frowns. “Still, I am not blind to what you have lost.”
Shadowheart nods silently. Lae'zel's experiences are so alien at times that it is hard to imagine the places where they overlap. But they are both alone in a world full of shadowy uncertainty. 
“You're all I have left, you know.” The words emerge in a sudden rush; she looks down at her hands, ashamed without knowing why. 
And then Lae'zel's hands close over hers, calloused and rough from a life of swordwork, but gentle in their touch on her skin. 
“I am not blind to that either,” she says, her voice low. “You will not be alone while I am here.” She considers for a moment before going on, “In creche we are taught ra'quith vlaak - the frail perish. To cover for another's weakness is to open your own flank.” Her eyes lift to meet Shadowheart's, intent and serious and sad. “Perhaps once I found wisdom in this, but no more. You shall find me guarding the scarred places in you, and you shall guard mine.”
Slowly, with scrupulous care, she lifts Shadowheart's hand and presses her lips over the heavy black scar, the last mark of Shar's torments, that lingers on her skin.
Blood rushes to Shadowheart's face. She feels acutely conscious of the fact that Lae'zel has never before showed her any gesture of warmth in view of the rest of the camp. And she can see the flicker of anxiety that goes through the gith's cat's-pupil eyes with the action. 
But Lae'zel has been afraid a long time. She has never let it drive her actions - never before and not now. 
And Shadowheart feels her own courage rise in answer to it. “Yes,” she agrees softly. “As long as you'll let me.”
“Chk,” Lae'zel mutters. “You speak as if you think such promises come with endings.”
Shadowheart doesn't answer for a long while. “I have suffered many broken ones,” she finally says softly. “But not from you.”
Lae'zel's eyes brighten, and she kisses Shadowheart again, this time cupping a palm to her cheek. Like all of their kisses, it is fierce and rough, commanding, unrelenting, but it carries certainty in it that Shadowheart desperately needs. “Nor shall you,” she murmurs. “Zhak vo'n'ash duj.”
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ratasum · 2 days
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“Please, Qirri, I can’t-…” Sieran trailed off, taking in a steadying breath. “I know what I’m doing. I know you’re scared, and I am too. We’re both very young, after all. But… but this must be done. For the good of everyone. I’m just- I’m glad that the last thing I get to give to the Dream is your ruby eyes.”
Remembering Qirri had only turned sixteen a day or so before Claw Island happened, and had to watch Sieran walk back into that fortress knowing full well she'd die, still fucks me up.
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tea0w0stache · 1 day
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would it physically fucking ail you to treat women well in your au? You’ve literally swapped all the female leaders with some background male characters. Literally ALL of the girls characters except maybe poppy (and that’s a stretch) have stories revolve around a man. Anytime you mention viva it’s always as an extension of clay. You took her leader role away and gave her nothing. I get you like brozone and shit, but you didn’t have to make every single female leader in trolls not a leader. Barb was an independent character that made her own decisions based own her own thoughts and beliefs, and you delegated her to a supporting role for riff. The same goes for delta! It’s not like there wasn’t other female characters to swap them with. Clampers, Carol, Val, and Holly are right there! Does the idea of a woman having her own complex internal life scare you? Is that why you’ve reduced all of them to sidekick status? I don’t know but I’m blocking you after this. What the hell
hey first off, what the actual fuck is your problem.
brotherhood started as a goddamn PERSONALITY SWAP AU. we didn't swap characters with anyone from the shows.
secondly; you DO realize that we aren't portraying them as side kicks right? or is your media literacy that fucking low?
barb isn't a support to riff. of you actually paid attention and asked actual questions you can see that she's not happy about anything riff is doing. she's not a support. she is the prime example as to why what riff is doing? ISNT A FUCKING GOOD THING. HE ISNT LISTENING TO ANYONE AND IT TAKES BARB GETTING HURT AND HER SCREAMING AT HIM FOR HIM TO REALIZE WHAT HE WAS DOING IS WRONG.
delta swapping with pete was the idea of a friend; and even then, she's not a fucking support. we talk about delta more than pete and she actively helps the trio out.
viva is STILL A FUCKING LEADER. NOWHERE DID WE SAY HER ROLE WAS REMOVED; HER AND CLAY LEAD TOGETHER.
i am so sick and tired of you people on your high horses trying to attack me because you can't get the balls to sit down and either ask questions OR be patient for the google doc that i have spent 5 FUCKING MONTHS WORKING ON.
quit making baseless assumptions because you don't know how to read.
i don't care if you block me. if you have the gall to be disrespectful and downright RUDE on anon like a damn coward then i don't want you around anyway. good riddance.
ket can keep posting the art they have on tumblr but im done. you want brotherhood stuff? go to them. im sick and tired of assholes like you. stfu and get a life
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darkserenity24 · 15 hours
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𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒎 & 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒔 - 𝑪𝒉. 4
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Loki x Reader
𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘴.
𝘈/𝘕: 𝘛𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘰 @aintnooooway 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 💚. 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 {𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 🥺}
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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒊𝒕𝒚 🏙️
You walked down the corridor with a pep in your step, feeling much better than you had in a long while. Loki fell into step beside you, looking the complete opposite of how you felt. His dark brows were low on his forehead and his lips were thinned. He looked as if he was ready to turn back around at any moment.
You glanced over at him with raised brows. “If you keep this up I’m afraid you’re going to be the one blowing a gasket soon.”
Your comment had its intended effect, his displeased expression instantly morphed into one of utter confusion. 
Green eyes squinted in your direction. “I beg your pardon?”
I knew that would work, you thought to yourself.
“Listen, I know this is the last thing you want to do, but since you can’t go back to Asgard yet the plan is to get you accustomed to life here on Earth. Or at least, the city of New York.”
He made an unimpressed face at that before opening his mouth to speak.
“And yes, it’s necessary,” you added before he could ask that exact question in his petulant princely manner.
A week had passed since you and Loki had reunited in your bedroom, the night ending with you in tears as you peacefully fell asleep in his arms. When you awoke the next morning, he was gone, only leaving a note placed on your nightstand stating that he did not want to scare you when you woke up and discovered that he was still there in your room, so he had left. 
Strangely, you felt a pang of disappointment and loneliness surge through your chest at the knowledge that he was gone, but you understood why he had left. If you were being honest, you didn’t know what you would have said if you woke to him still in your bed with you. Tell him sorry that I cried like a five-year-old and blubbered all over you? 
Maybe you would’ve thanked him for providing you with the much-needed comfort you didn’t know you needed until he was there. Who knows.
You had dressed and went about your day, deciding to reach out to Loki yourself and ask to meet so you could discuss things further. Tony had given him an iPhone, which you could tell he was not a fan of but it did come in handy when you needed to contact him and had no idea where he was. 
When you got the chance to meet with him again (in a setting that was not your bedroom), you informed him about the details of his image rehabilitation and how you were going to go about it, but not without thanking him for what he did for you the night before.
Maybe he expected that you’d be upset with him for some reason, but to be relieved at your more relaxed state around him. The news that he’d have to actually participate in making himself look more personable to humanity fully didn’t sink in until a bit later. Hence why he was currently in the grumpy state he was in at this moment in time as you both walked through the tower’s lobby.
“I know it’s your favorite pastime but unfortunately you can’t continue to stalk around the tower brooding and hissing at people all anymore. We need to make you more likable to the people here just as much as we want you to have a better public image.”
Loki raised a dark brow in challenge. “Firstly, I do not brood or hiss, and secondly I am an exceptionally likable being. Do you not agree?”
“Yes, I know you can be very charming when you allow yourself to be, but unfortunately other people don’t get to see that. We have to make you seem more approachable to others. If not the team, the average person needs to see you as friendly and harmless.”
“I am not friendly,” he grumbled. “Nor harmless for that matter.”
“Well, you’ll learn to be because today we’re taking you out of the tower so you can be around other people. It’ll just be a day trip around the city but eventually, I’ll bring you to some cool events so you can make friends and stuff like that.”
“This is needless. I don’t want friends.”
You shook your head, lightly touching the back of his arm as you continued the trek to your destination. “You may not want them, but you need them. Everyone needs friends, silly.”
You nodded your head at the two heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who were waiting for you at the entrance of the tower before glancing over at Loki.
“I know you’ve um, sort of visited before but your view of the place was kind of obscured by everything that was going on back then,”
The agents opened the doors and you peered out at the blue skies and crowed sidewalks, smiling in excitement. 
“Now, let me show you the real New York.”
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Loki’s first outing had been interesting, to say the least. You wanted to catch the subway but realized on second thought that would be a bad idea since you didn’t know how people would act around him yet in such a jam-packed space. You doubted that they’d immediately recognized him but you didn’t want to take any chances. Thankfully Tony provided you with a driver and you took the town car instead. 
You decided to take him on a tour around the city to introduce him to its wonderful infrastructure and historical sites. Unfortunately, he did not seem to be impressed. He came from a place where they were probably way more technologically advanced than humans were even a millennium ago.
Still, you decided to drag him around to your favorite spots, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents trailing not too far behind you. There were more than a couple of times (several, actually) when you had to pivot Loki’s attention away from the many people who were staring at him. He didn’t seem to like the idea of practicing smiling at them, instead producing something akin to a grimace.
You stopped by an old greasy food truck to get some lunch when noon hit. As you got closer to the truck, Loki twisted his face in disgust, asking you if this was what Midgardians ate in this city and you nodded with a smile. 
“Yeah! I know it’s not the healthiest but if you’re out and about and in need of a quick bite, food trucks are the way to go.” 
You offered to buy him a sandwich to try which he quickly declined.
He seemed to be even more disturbed when walking on the crowded and messy sidewalks filled to the brim with bustling New Yorkers. He did not want anyone touching him, instead, deciding to charge through the crowd while dragging you along by your wrist. You stumbled past the annoyed onlookers, apologizing profusely as you tried to get Loki to slow down.
Needless to say, the S.H.I.E.L.D agents had a hard time catching up with you both, eventually pulling you to the side and giving you a warning that Loki had to be within their sight at all times or he wouldn’t be allowed to leave the tower anymore.
Taking them at their word, you kindly asked Loki if he could slow down a little, empathizing with him that you knew this was a lot to handle all at once. However, he had to work with you at least a little bit in order to make any progress that the team (and Nick Fury by extension) would find acceptable.
He stared at you with a blank face until his gaze finally dropped, sighing heavily and nodding his acquiescence. You didn’t expect for him to listen to you so quickly, but to his credit, he did behave in a more acceptable manner for the remainder of the outing. That was until you visited your favorite local bodega.
You sent Loki to the checkout counter to purchase a few items while you continued to look around the store to see if there was anything else you needed. A minute barely passed by before you heard a commotion coming from the front of the shop, one of the agents swinging by to get your attention.
When you arrived at the checkout counter, Loki was glaring menacingly at the nervous-looking cashier who looked as if he was ready to duck under the counter.
“What’s going on?” You asked, glancing from Loki to the shaking middle-aged man.
Loki spoke first, an irritated growl shrouding his voice. “This mongrel is insisting that I provide him with more payment than I deem necessary for such a small amount of items we are purchasing.”
You frowned in confusion, looking at the calculated total on the cash register. It appeared to be at a normal rate. Was it still a bit pricey? Yes, but that was just the average inflated NYC prices.
“I-It's the right amount man, I promise. I ain’t trying to swindle you or nothin’.” The man stammered, causing Loki to scowl at him even more.
You placed a hand on his arm and backed away. “Loki, he’s right. That’s the correct cost,” You mumbled, wondering if you should have spent more time explaining to him how currency worked on this planet. “We have to give him the money or we won’t be able to buy anything.”
“What? That’s preposterous,” He voiced out, “Am I not to bargain with him until he concedes? That is how we operate on Asgard. He was close to yielding under my gaze until you interrupted us.”
You actually slapped a hand to your forehead, not knowing whether to laugh or be taken aback by his unusual shopping methods.
“No, that’s not how that works here. If we don’t give him the correct amount of money he could probably ban us from coming back here, or worse, call the police on us.”
Loki smirked conceitedly. “I have never been one to back down from a challenge.”
You crossed your arms, giving him a somewhat stern look. “Yeah? Well, you will today. I know you can’t help but be mischievous and all but I do not want to have to explain to the team how we ended up in jail on your very first outing. That wouldn’t be a very good track record for either of us.”
He had the nerve to look disappointed at your words, pouting like a child. “Fine. If I must.”
He reluctantly handed over the cash to the man, who accepted it with trembling hands before whispering for you both to have a good day. 
You had no doubt that both you and the cashier shared the same amount of relief when you and Loki left the bodega with no one getting hurt in the process.
You returned to the tower after that, deciding that was enough of an adventure for one day. Loki looked absolutely worn out. When you gave Tony a report of the outing later that night, he seemed to be pleased with the turn of events, only raising a skeptical eyebrow when you mentioned having only a “minor misunderstanding” at the local convenience store.
It was a few days later when you decided to take Loki on his second outing. You were planning on waiting until at least a week later to take him out again, but the team was still being extremely standoffish with him and it was not helping anyone. They didn’t include Loki in any activities or even attempt to have any meaningful conversation with him. 
Besides Thor, Wanda seemed to be the only one who made any attempt to interact with Loki, though he only seemed to hum and grunt in response to her questions.
He appeared to be just as uncomfortable inside the tower despite your best efforts. He had even snapped at you once when you simply asked him a question about Asgard, to which you only raised a brow at him in response.
He quickly apologized but he didn’t really need to. You understood how he felt. Loki was homesick, and being stuck on Earth for so long was really getting to him.
So you decided to get him out of the tower again as soon as possible.
The next outing went similarly. This time, you took him to a grocery store. He looked appalled at how large it was inside and asked if every human in the city came to this one place for food.
“No, silly. There are lots of supermarkets around the city. This isn’t the only one.” You laughed at him and he appeared to be both confused and offended at the same time. 
“There are more?” He questioned in an incredulous tone. “Humans do consume quite a lot.”
You nodded. “Food is life. Literally.”
Later that day you ended up at a nice little cafe located in Brooklyn which you thought Loki would enjoy a bit more. He liked drinking tea and the occasional coffee which the cafe had plentiful brews of both. He appeared to be more relaxed and a bit more in his element as you both sat at a table in the corner, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents idling right outside of the shop’s exit.
“How’s your tea?” you asked, taking a careful sip of your oat milk latte. 
He averted his gaze away from something behind you and eyed the drink that had been placed in front of him. “Subpar.” He sniffed and you scoffed at his answer.
“Let me guess, it’s not up to Asgardian standards.”
He smiled at you. “Your words, not mine.”
“I don’t know,” you state skeptically, “You seem to have been enjoying yourself a little more today. See, living on Earth isn’t that bad.”
It was his turn to scoff. “Those words will never be uttered from my mouth.”
“Never say never.” You grinned. “Don’t worry, you’ll be having tons of fun by the end of your stay here, whenever that will be. I’m planning on taking you to other-.”
“What does that mortal want?” Loki groused, eyes narrowing just past you on something you couldn’t see. You blinked, turning around to see one of the baristas behind the counter looking your way. He looked to be around your age, shaggy brown hair falling into his face.
He smiled politely when he caught your eye, and you smiled back awkwardly before turning back around to see Loki still focused on the boy. 
“Maybe he’s just curious,” you guess with a shrug. Loki’s disguise was good but it wasn’t that full proof. The guy was probably just intrigued by him. 
“Curious? About me, or you?”
“What?” you laugh. “Why would be be curious about me?”
“He has been ogling you the entire time we have remained in this establishment,” Loki stated with annoyance in his tone.
“Oh. Maybe he recognizes me from school or something. There are so many people in my classes that I can never remember what they all look like.” You explained with a small chortle.
“I suppose.” 
The boy behind the counter finally noticed Loki’s not-so-friendly gaze, and quickly looked away, focusing his eyes on the espresso machine he was currently operating.
“Don’t scowl at him, Loki. Remember, you want to come off as nice and approachable, not suspecting and accusatory.” You reminded him. “Plus, he hasn’t done anything wrong. People stare sometimes. It’s normal.”
“I do not like it.” He said tersely.
“Yeah, I don’t like when people stare either. I know it makes you uncomfortable but eventually you’ll get used to it and the looks will stop soon enough.”
He focused his gaze back on you. “That is not what I meant. I do not care if I am being observed. After all, I am a prince.”
You raised a brow in amusement. “Then what do you mean?”
He was quiet for a moment before speaking. “I have an aversion to other humans observing you.”
You blinked in surprise, leaning back in your chair. “Huh? How come?”
“I do not trust them. Especially the male species.” He gritted his teeth.
You still didn’t quite understand what he meant by that before it finally hit you. As much as you were both trying to move on from what happened in his cell, what Jacob had done was still pretty fresh for the both of you. 
Of course Loki didn’t trust other people. This was evident by the way he worried for you in the safest of places. He saw what Jacob and those two guards had done to you and it still was affecting him. You weren’t the only one who had been traumatized by that incident, and you couldn’t expect him to be okay so soon after.
However, the objective was to get him familiarized with human life, and if he didn’t trust anyone then he wouldn’t be making any progress. You couldn’t let that happen. 
You both sat in silence, him likely mulling over his confession and you reflecting on your new revelation. It appeared that you had your work cut out for you more than you originally thought. 
You placed your hand over his on top of the round table. “It’s okay. I understand.” You said softly, meeting his troubled green eyes. His gaze softened, and he slipped his much larger hand from under yours only to place his on top, his thumb brushing your skin softly.
“I’m glad you do.” was his simple response.
********
You eyed the countless people dressed in fancy gowns and tuxes like they were attending cocktail hour at the MET. 
Tonight was Tony’s and Pepper’s anniversary party and apparently, every person that they knew seemed to have been invited. Surprisingly, this also included Loki, but something told you he wouldn’t show up. He’d rather be anywhere else than at a gathering for Tony Stark, is what you remember him saying when he received the very last-minute invitation.
You bit your lip as you entered the ballroom, smoothing down your silky spaghetti-strapped lavender dress and wiggling your toes in your strappy black heels, all courtesy of Wanda’s desire to dress you up like a doll tonight. You were a little self-conscious about how the material fit on your body but Wanda was insistent that it looked perfect on you so you just went with it.
You glanced around at the hundreds of bodies that filled the space, looking for two particular people while gripping the box you held in your hand. You traipsed around until you finally found who you were looking for.
“Black bean!” Tony exclaimed before waving you over towards him and his beautiful wife. You smiled and greeted them both, giving him and Pepper a quick hug. 
“I see someone dressed to impress. I almost didn’t recognize you without that old hoodie covering half of your body. Good job!” Tony grinned and you shook your head at him.
“Not like I had much of a choice. Security probably wouldn’t have let me in here if I pulled up in jeans and a sweater like I originally planned to.” You joked. “I got something for you guys.”
You pushed the small box you held in your hands towards them with a small smile. 
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you! You shouldn’t have.” Pepper replied with a kind smile and Tony scoffed dramatically.
“What? Yes, she should have! Don’t mind if I do.” He said, plucking the box out of your grasp.
Pepper lightly rolled her eyes at him and gave you a look that caused you to giggle. You spoke to the lovely couple for a few more minutes until you were distracted by the sound of your name being called out from behind you. 
Your body instantly froze in place, blood running cold at the sound of the high-pitched bubbly timbre. Slowly, you turned around, meeting a familiar pair of blue eyes. Eyes too alike her older brother’s.
“OMG! I missed you so much!” Kayla ran up to you and wrapped you into a tight hug. You gasped quietly, body still stiff as a board before lightly wrapping your arms around her in return.
She eventually released you, pulling back with a blinding smile. She looked even taller than before, which was saying a lot because you were also wearing heels.
“It’s been forever. What have you been up to?” She asked with genuine curiosity in her voice.
“Oh, um, just working like usual. Nothing crazy really, waiting for school to start again soon… yep.”
You knew you sounded so awkward but you couldn’t help it. You were practically shaking around her. To your knowledge, Kayla had no clue about the incident with her brother that landed you in the hospital for weeks. She didn’t know what actually happened with Jacob, and the thought of her ever finding out put you on edge around her.
“Wow, it’s been like, ages since we last saw each other. We need to hang out soon!” She twirled a piece of her perfectly curled golden locks. “I feel a bit guilty for kind of ghosting for a while. It’s just that Jake left the country and my parents haven’t been taking it very well. I don’t know what’s gotten into him but he needs to come back ASAP. I cannot handle them on my own. It’s been complete hell.” She sighed.
You nodded, letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh, yeah? I-I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, it’s been totally crazy. The last person who saw him was my dad, and he said that Jake had seemed really upset about something, saying that he was quitting his job here at the tower. He took a bunch of money from the family account and left town overnight. I don’t know what’s going on with him but I hope he’s okay. He can be a complete ass sometimes but he’s my big brother, you know?”
“Yeah, of course you’d care about him. He’s your family after all.” You inwardly cringed at your own words, the reminder of the situation being a bit too much for you at the moment.
“Yeah, it’s a lot to handle.” She remarked with a pout before shooting you an odd look. “Although, I think you know something that I don’t.”
The blood instantly drained from your face. “I do?”
“Yeah, you do. You can’t hide it from me.”
Your palms became sweaty.
“I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about-.”
One perfectly sculpted brow rose on her forehead. “The alien prisoner, duh!” She proclaimed with a shake of her head. “You didn’t tell me that they released him a few weeks ago and that he’s still here in the tower. I had to hear it by eavesdropping on one of my dad’s “secret” conversations.”
The amount of relief that filled your body at her accusation was substantial. You truly thought that she was going down another path. A darker one that you didn’t want any light to shine on. Ever.
You rubbed your bare shoulders, granting her a look of pretend guilt with a light chuckle. “Oh, that! Yes, Loki’s out of his cell now but he’s still on sort of a probation so no need to worry.”
She didn’t look totally convinced, brows scrunching up in fear. “So you’re telling me that he’s just been let loose around the tower? Oh my god, what if I run into him? What do I do?” She fretted.
“Say hi? He’s not that bad, I promise you. He can seem a little… daunting at times but that’s just him. He’s not out to hurt you or anything like that.” Her constant worrying about Loki was not doing her any favors. 
She crossed her arms and adjusted her stance. “I don’t know. I think I’ll just try my best to stay away from him. Avoid him at all costs. My dad says that he’s a complete psycho terrorist who would be better off back on his own planet- oh!” She interrupted herself, looking highly interested in something, or at someone over your shoulder. “Hottie alert!”
You turned around to look through the crowd, attempting to see what she was looking at. There were too many people in your way, she could’ve been looking at anyone.
“That man is a beautiful piece of specimen if I’ve ever seen one. I’m gonna go introduce myself. Follow my lead.”
She fussed over her already flawlessly styled and fitted gown before strutting through the crowd. Your brows twitched in confusion but you trailed after her anyway, slipping between chattering groups of guests as you tried to keep up with Kayla’s long strides across the room. You were just about to give up when she suddenly stopped in her tracks with an elegant practiced pose.
You stumbled in your heels, stopping just in time in order not to run into her from behind.
Placing a hand on her hip, she began speaking to the mystery person. A sickeningly sweet tone emanated from her. “Hey gorgeous, my name is Kayla, and you are?” She inquired sultrily.
You didn’t know why you followed her only to witness her flirt with some random stranger. You couldn’t see who she was talking to as you were still behind her, trapped between people on almost all sides of you. The person wasn’t very quick at responding, as she stood expectantly waiting for his return greeting for a brief moment. 
It was extremely awkward, and you were not going to stick around much longer to dwell in the discomforting scene. You were preparing to turn around and go back where you came from before you heard the dark, silky tone that granted her a response.  
“I know exactly who you are.” The man said in a guarded and slightly aggressive tone.
Your eyes widened in absolute horror and disbelief as you stepped beside her to get a good look at her acquired target.
It was Loki.
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dadbodbuck · 3 days
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some sentences saturday
from my untitled cat dad eddie fic!
“Hey, kiddo,” Eddie says as Chris pulls himself into the truck.
Chris eyes him warily. “What did you do?”
“Am I really that obvious?” Eddie laughs, pulling out of the school pickup line.
“You look like a dog with something in its mouth,” Chris observes.
Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek to buy himself time. “Yeah. I—uh—may have made an impulse purchase. Frank told me to volunteer at an animal shelter, so I went, and there was this cat, and—”
“Dad,” Chris gasps, “Did we get a cat?”
“Sort of,” Eddie winces, “She might not… she might not be friendly like your friends’ cats. People really hurt her, before.”
Chris frowns. “Oh.”
“She’s really scared,” Eddie explains, “She thinks someone like you or me or Buck will hurt her.”
“I wouldn’t hurt her!” Chris defends, “Neither would you or Buck.”
“She doesn’t know that,” Eddie says softly, “She’s a cat, so the only way to help her understand that is to show her. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah,” Chris nods. “Is that why you got hurt?”
Eddie glances down at his bandaged hand. “Yeah. She bit me.”
“What did you do?” Chris says, with a protective bite that, honestly, makes Eddie a little proud.
“She’s been declawed,” Eddie says, “She can’t scratch people to let them know when to stop any more, so she bites more often. I had to give her some food, and got too close to her personal space. Hopefully with more work I can get closer to her or feed her from a bowl, but she’s been staying in her carrier.”
“Okay,” Chris accepts, “Can I see her?”
“I think that would be a good idea,” Eddie says, “She’s in my room—we’ll do your homework in there, and then we can work on slow blinking. I’m talking to a behaviorist from the shelter, and she says that’s how cats say I feel safe.”
Chris, with a look of raw determination (the only good thing Eddie ever gave him), nods. They make it home in one piece, and soon Chris is speeding in through the front door and towards Eddie’s room.
“Mijo, wait!” Eddie winces. Chris does actually stop (thank God), pausing with his hand on Eddie’s doorknob and a plaintive look back.
“Let me lead this, okay?” Eddie says, and he always hates taking agency away from his son, but this is… this is something he can’t afford to mess up. He doesn’t like the churning feeling in his gut when he thinks about what’ll happen if Magnolia bites Chris.
With a downcast look, Chris nods.
“Hey, I’m not saying I don’t think you’ll respect her space, or that I think you’ll do anything wrong,” Eddie assures him, “I just want to make sure she sees a familiar face first, okay?”
“Okay,” Chris says, relaxing. Eddie opens the door and steps in.
When they get in, she’s still in her crate. Eddie bites back a sigh of disappointment, one that quickly becomes unnecessary when he realizes she’s eaten her food.
“Alright, bud, let’s get cracking,” Eddie says, sitting cross-legged on his own bed. Chris joins him, and it’s almost like they’re having a sleepover, whispering because they’re up too late, and not because there’s a really freaked out cat six feet away.
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emeraldsummers · 22 hours
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Fic: More Than An Ally?
Fandom: 9-1-1
Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hen Wilson, Chimney Han, Maddie Buckley, Christopher Diaz, Tommy Kinard
Pairing: Buck/Tommy (not the focus, it's more about Buck)
Summary:
Buck keeps referring to himself as an ally, mostly by accident, but also because he's not sure he's ready to say what he really is.
(Or, five times Buck calls himself an ally, and one time he doesn't.)
I.
Buck couldn’t stop grinning.
Eyes scanning out across the room, he took in the sight surrounding him. Maddie and Chim, giggling together like they were teenagers, Christopher looking so damn grown up in his suit, Eddie sitting beside him nearly glowing with pride, Hen and Karen’s new daughter beaming at being able to show off her family, Tommy standing beside the buffet table, fully engrossed in conversation with an old teammate, wearing the hell out of his dress uniform in a way that made Buck feel like the luckiest guy in the room.
He played with the medal hanging around his neck. A medal he had earned for saving lives, for doing the right thing, for being a hero.
Yeah, today was a good day.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hen approaching him, and he turned to greet her.
“Hey! This is great, isn’t it?”
“Hmm? Yeah, this is fun,” she seemed distracted, looking over Buck’s shoulder as she spoke. “I haven’t gotten a chance to try dessert yet, have you?”
“Yeah, the chocolate mousse is…” he trailed off. “Is everything okay?”
She shook her head at that, and when she looked back at Buck she seemed less unsettled. “Sorry, yeah, everything is good.” At the pointed look he gave her, she admitted, “I’m just trying to avoid talking to Captain Gerrard.”
“Ah,” Buck responded. That made sense.
“You meet him?”
“Briefly,” Buck said. “But mostly I’ve heard the stories.” It had only taken five seconds of listening to Gerrard talk for him to realize the stories probably got worse than the ones he had heard.
“It’s not like I’m scared of him,” she hastily clarified. “I can handle him and any guys like him. It’s just… today is a really nice day. And I don’t need to blemish today with whatever garbage comes out of his mouth.”
And Buck understood that. “Makes sense. He doesn’t deserve even a second of your time. Just stick with me, and if he comes near, we’ll make a run for it.” He gave her a small wink, causing her to laugh.
“Thanks, Buck.” And she sounded like she meant it. Seemed like Buck wasn’t the only one getting sentimental today.
“I know things haven't always been this way. I know that under Gerrard your team didn't have your back. I just want you to always know that now, everyone at this station, we’re all allies here,” he said sincerely.
Hen made a face before letting out a short laugh. “Allies, Buck? Really? You?”
And, huh. Buck hadn’t realized he had said, so he quickly corrected, “I meant I’d be your ally. Which I am.”
It sounded like a weak explanation, even to him, but Hen gave him an odd, almost knowing look before saying, “Well, I'll say the same for you. I'm your ally, and everyone else at this station? They're here for you too. They're actually allies, Buck.”
Buck laughed at that, but the emotions of the day were starting to catch up with him and her words were hitting him hard. “I know, Hen. I'm really lucky I was assigned the 118 and I'm lucky it was under Bobby.”
“We both are,” she gave him a nudge before apparently deciding to lift the mood to something lighter. “Anyways,” she said with a grin, “There's definitely one benefit to Gerrard being from the dinosaur’s club.”
At Buck’s quizzical grin, she answered “We’d definitely be able to outrun him.”
II.
The apartment fire ended up being much smaller than originally anticipated, so by the time the 118, the third station to be dispatched, had arrived on the scene, the only job left to do was check the surrounding units to ensure they were still structurally sound. Buck and Chimney were heading up to the fifth floor, enjoying the easy call with casual conversation as they climbed.
“Tommy said he’s got a surprise for our date tonight, but I bet it involves the chopper,” Buck said with a smile. “He’s been hinting at it.”
Chimney gave a quick laugh. “Can’t say I’m jealous. I prefer my dates on the ground. At home.”
“Yeah, well,” Buck said with a sly grin, “The adrenaline is like nothing else, trust me. He took me up a few weeks back, and let me just say…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Chimney cut in. “I get it. Don’t need to imagine it.”
“Fine, fine,” Buck sighed. “I’m just saying, I’m excited for this shift to be over.”
After knocking on the last few doors of the fifth floor, the building was clear and it was time to pack up and head back to the station. The lobby of the apartment building was much busier than the stairwell had been, with members of the 273 and 142 packing up their stuff and doing final check-ins with the affected residents.
“You know,” Chim said. “What you mentioned earlier doesn’t surprise me. Tommy always had a thing for flying, even back in the day. He was obsessed with Top Gun.”
Buck laughed at that. When Tommy had found out Buck hadn’t seen it, he’d made sure to watch it for their next movie night, only for them to miss most of it due to getting a bit wound up and therefore distracted. Since it was important to Tommy that Buck actually watched it, they’d tried it again for their next movie night, that time with more success.
“He’s still obsessed, trust me,” Buck replied. Then, with another, louder laugh, “I’m surprised you weren’t able to clock him earlier.” At Chim’s confused expression, Buck continued, “Obsession with Top Gun? That’s like, the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.”
He didn’t realize how loud his voice had grown until the firefighter passing by him stopped dead in his tracks, like he wasn’t sure he heard what he just heard. He was from the 142 and very young, probably still a probie based on the nervous way he was carrying himself. He looked at Buck with his mouth open like he was going to say something, before deciding not to and continuing to walk past, shaking his head.
It took Buck a second before he realized what had just happened. What the probie was probably thinking.
Shit.
“Hey!” Buck called as he followed the probie through the crowd of people. “That came out wrong! I’m not - I’m not homophobic. I’m an ally, okay? Didn’t mean anything by it. I swear!”
The probie was determinedly not turning around to hear Buck out, but Chimney was following him at his side.
“Buck,” he said carefully. Buck knew that tone, knew it meant he was missing something stupidly obvious. He looked at Chimney waiting, but Chim just looked at him incredulously. “You’re dating a man.”
And, oh. Well, duh, Buck thought.
Buck turned back to where the probie had been walking, practically yelling, “Hey! I have a boyfriend! Not homophobic!”
But the probie was gone, slipped completely out of sight, and Buck had no idea if he’d heard him or not. The rest of the 142 definitely did hear him though, based on the way they were glancing at him awkwardly.
Chim patted him on the shoulder with a sigh before walking back to their own truck, leaving Buck to mumble a quick “Just a misunderstanding” before hurrying after him.
III.
Buck was always grateful for dinners with Eddie and Christopher at the Diaz household. Tonight, Eddie was insisting on cooking, much to Christopher’s chagrin, but even though Buck loved cooking for them, he was grateful for the opportunity to sit at the table and hang out with Chris.
Technically, he was supposed to be making sure Chris got his homework done, but Buck preferred to be a bad influence and instead talk about Chris’ day.
“Today, in social studies, we were talking about different kinds of families,” Chris shared.
“Oh yeah? What’s that mean?” Hanging out with Chris, he was always amazed at how different school was now from his own childhood.
“You know, how most people have a mom and a dad. But some people have step-parents. Or guardians. Or two dads. Stuff like that.”
“Oh,” Buck replied. That definitely wasn’t talked about when he was Chris’ age.
“Some people in my class were confused,” Chris continued, “But I already knew that. It’s obvious. Denny has two moms. Harry has a mom and a dad and two step-dads. I have Dad and Carla and you.”
And it was the fact that Chris said that last part so casually, like it was the simplest, most obvious thing in the world that Buck was a part of his family that left Buck speechless.
But Chris continued like he hadn’t just made Buck’s whole year. “Some people in my class had never even heard of people that are L-G-B-T-Q-I-A.” He spelled out the acronym slowly, like he wanted to make sure he said it right.
Buck hummed, trying to think of what to say. He wasn’t sure he was prepared to explain homophobia to a 13-year old, and he wanted to be careful with his words.
But Chris ended up asking something different.
“What does the A stand for?”
Buck let out a relieved sigh. “It uh, it stands for ‘asexual’ or ‘aromantic’. It means someone who doesn’t experience any attraction, or experiences it less than non-ace people.” Buck cringed a bit at himself, fully aware his explanation was lacking, but he wasn’t sure if Chris understood the difference between romantic and sexual attraction yet. “Sometimes, in some contexts, the A stands for ‘ally’”.
“What’s an ally?” Chris asked.
“An ally is someone who… it’s like me and your dad. Someone who isn’t L, G, B, T, or Q, but supports the community and wants to fight for their rights.”
Chris made a face, turning to stare at Buck quizzically. After a beat of silence, Chris finally spoke.
“Buck. You can’t be an ally. You’re with Tommy so you’ve gotta be the G or the B or the Q, right?” And again, he was able to say it like it was the most simple, obvious fact in the world.
Buck let out a nervous laugh that quickly became a genuine one. He had honestly forgotten for a moment, but of course Chris hadn’t.
“You’re right. Your dad’s the ally. I’m… one of those”. Chris didn’t seem to notice him trailing off, and before the conversation could continue, Eddie announced that dinner was served.
“No matter what he made, Chris, make sure you tell him it’s the best dinner ever.”
Christopher groaned, and Buck made his way to the table, eager to enjoy a meal with his family.
IV.
Maddie apologized as she excused herself for Jee-Yun’s night routine, but truthfully this was one of Buck’s favorite parts of visiting his sister after work.
Getting to be there while she went through the peaceful normality of every day routine with her daughter, it filled Buck with such a distinct sense of contentment. He sat in the kitchen, idly playing with his phone, but mostly listening to the domestic sounds around him. The apartment was small enough that he could hear Jee’s shrieks and giggles from the bathtub, hear Maddie negotiating her out of the tub with the promise of her choice of book tonight, and hear Jee trying to start playtime again as Maddie dressed her for bed.
When the apartment finally got quieter, only the low hum of Maddie’s voice audible, Buck quietly stood up and walked closer to Jee’s bedroom. From the hallway near the door, Buck was able to hear Maddie reading the book, a simple story about a princess on her quest to save her kingdom. He closed his eyes, and for a moment he was taken back to his childhood bedroom, to Maddie curled up next to him reading a comedic retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, to her rolling her eyes when he begged her to do the silly voices, to her agreeing just to hear Buck laugh…
Jee-Yun was a lucky girl. She really did have the best mom.
When he could tell the story was winding to a close, he silently made his way back to his spot in the kitchen, not wanting to seem like he was intruding.
A few minutes later, he could hear Maddie making her way back. “Sorry about that,” she said softly. “Bedtime without Daddy always means it takes more time to get her settled.”
“Hey, don’t even worry about it. Wasn’t long at all.” Then after a beat, “When’s Chimney getting home anyways?”
She shrugged. “Probably late. He hasn’t seen Albert in ages, and he hasn’t had a guys night out in even longer.”
He turned to see her carrying a beer in each hand as she made her way over to the table.
“Thanks,” he said as she handed it to him.
She smiled. “I’m never going to complain about getting one-on-one time with my brother.”
Buck laughed before sipping his beer, a thought from earlier coming back to the forefront of his mind.
“Hey, that story you were telling Jee. I noticed it ended with the princess falling in love with another princess…” he trailed off, trying to sound nonchalant, like that detail hadn’t immediately stuck out at him as he was listening.
“You caught that, huh?” She gave him a pensive look before apparently deciding to let it go. “We have books where the princess falls in love with the prince, we have books where the princess falls in love with another princess. We have a book where the princess becomes the prince. We just… we want Jee to know that these are all possibilities for her. That all of these possibilities have happy endings.”
“That’s… nice.” Buck was trying to piece his words together. “It’s like, she won’t have to learn what being gay is, or that it’s okay, she’ll just always know. And if she is queer in some way, it would be way less confusing for her when she figures it out. Huh.”
“Exactly,” Maddie responded, reaching out to take his hands across the table. “Buck, I’m sorry I never gave that to you growing up. I’m sorry if it ever made you feel confused, or if you were ever scared to tell me things growing up. I should have made sure you knew I would have loved you no matter what.”
“What? Maddie -” That wasn’t what he was trying to say. “I always knew you loved me. That’s not it. Any of the confusion, it wasn’t your fault. It was a different time, books like that didn’t even exist.”
“I know, but still -”
“What I was trying to say,” he cut in, “was that it didn’t even occur to me that I should be talking to Jee about stuff like this. What if I've subconsciously been teaching her all of these outdated norms and ideas? As an ally, I should have already been thinking of this!”
“Whoa, whoa,” Maddie released his hands to hold them out in front of her for a moment, before bringing them back down onto the table. “First of all, she’s three. So no, you haven’t permanently instilled homophobia in her by accident.” Buck rolled his eyes at her oversimplification of what he was trying to say. “Secondly, ‘as an ally’? You’re still going with that?”
“I-” Buck hadn’t even realized he had said that, let alone that that would be what Maddie caught from his rambling. “I don’t know, I guess not. It doesn’t matter, does it? You knew what I meant.”
“I mean, it matters a little bit, doesn’t it?” She softened her voice. “If I’m pushing too much, just tell me and I’ll back off. But we haven’t really talked about this.”
And Buck knew that was true. He knew his declarations were about dating Tommy, knew he never really wanted to actually talk about himself, never really let anyone know how much self-discovery he was working on. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
“Because,” and she lowered her voice almost to a whisper, talking to Buck like she was scared he would bolt. “You’re bi, right? Or pan?”
“I guess,” Buck said with a breath. “Why do I have to call myself anything?”
“You don’t,” she said quickly, “I’m sorry if I pushed. Really, it's none of my business. Especially as a straight person. But calling yourself an ally probably isn’t the move, right?” She gave him the kind of knowing, sly smile that only a sibling could.
And just like that, the mood was already lightened. Buck let out a relieved laugh. “Yeah, it’s uh, becoming something of a bad habit.” He took another sip of his beer. “But thanks, by the way. No one else is going to push me, and I think I might need it.”
“Hey, it’s what allies and sisters are for.”
V.
Buck was antsy as he sat in the back of the firetruck. His shift was scheduled to be over two hours ago, but the drunk driver that caused a ten-car pileup on the highway had made sure he would be late, and Buck was eager to get back to the station so that he could head to Tommy’s.
They were supposed to be attending a comedy show for date night, but Buck had texted a couple hours ago that he was unfortunately going to be very late, and to see if they could get a refund on the tickets. Tommy texted back not to worry, he understood how these things went, and that he’d be waiting at home with a bottle of wine
God, how did Buck ever get so lucky?
Once finally back at the station, Buck didn’t even bother to shower or even change out his uniform, instead grabbing his bag from his locker and practically sprinting to his Jeep, laser-focused on the shower he would have at Tommy’s and the person who would be joining him in it.
He forced himself not to break traffic laws to get himself there faster, and when he finally knocked on Tommy’s door he was nearly breathless with excitement. As he heard the door unlock, he forced his face into a more casual expression as the door opened. That expression was promptly abandoned when he saw Tommy smiling in front of him, and he matched the smile tenfold as Tommy took his hand and welcomed him inside.
Closing the door behind him, Buck took Tommy’s face in his hands and crowded him against the wall, pressing their lips together with a soft hum. “Rushed right over,” he whispered against his mouth.
Tommy broke apart for a moment, hand reaching up to play with the collar of Buck’s uniform. “I can tell,” he said with a sly smile.
For a moment Buck stilled, once again worried he would come across as over-eager, but then Tommy kissed him deeper, his hands dipping to hold his waist tightly, and Buck was again reminded how well Tommy responded to the eagerness.
They broke apart after a moment, and Buck could see Tommy’s eyes travel from his eyes downward, landing on a spot on Buck’s shirt.
“I like the pin,” Tommy said with a small laugh.
Mind still focused on the weight of Tommy’s body against his own, it took Buck a moment to realize what Tommy was referring to.
He was staring at the small Progress Pride Flag pinned to his shirtpocket.
“Oh!” Buck laughed. “The station got these, since it’s Pride month. I know it’s a little hokey, but I wanted to make sure everyone we help knows that they’re safe with us. That they’re safe with me. That I’m an ally.”
“Evan,” Tommy deadpanned, his body stiffening.
Buck blanked for a moment before realizing what he had said. “Shit, yeah. Um, you know what I mean.”
“I mean, I do and I don’t,” Tommy responded. He didn’t sound annoyed, so at least there was that. “I didn’t realize you were still calling yourself an ally.”
Buck pulled away, suddenly feeling exposed. He turned towards the bathroom, hoping a shower would put this conversation on pause until it could be forgotten.
But no, he didn’t really want to run from this. Not with Tommy. He turned back around. “No, I don’t… not really. I know I’m not, I know I’m not straight. I know that. I don’t know why it feels so weird to say what I actually am.”
“It’s still new,” Tommy reasoned.
“Exactly! And I’ve called myself an ally for so long, in my head that’s still where I’m categorized. Even though I know… I know the definitions. I think I know which one fits, it just doesn’t feel like… mine yet.” Tommy was studying him, and suddenly Buck worried this crisis was going to put him off. Tommy had been out for years at this point. He had no problem calling himself gay and seeing himself as part of the community. Buck knew this problem was immature, a sign that he was still so new to all of this, something most people figured out in their teens or twenties.
But instead, Tommy walked closer to him and took his hands. “Whatever label you’re thinking of, it’s yours if you want it. You’re a part of this community, Evan, no one can take that away from you.” He moved one of his hands to Buck’s face, cupping his cheek. “But if the labels feel stifling, you don’t need to pick one. Lots of people don’t use them. It doesn’t matter to me, just as long as you know that this is real.”
And God, somehow Tommy always knew how to reassure him. The spiral that he had been about to send himself on started to unwind, and Buck remembered why he was so excited to get over here. He closed the distance between them, capturing Tommy in a deep kiss, and his anxieties became lost to the moment, because oh, did he know how real this was.
+1
Buck was nervous. He’d only attended Pride once before, back in 2019 when the 118 was selected to participate in the parade, and so his experience was limited to standing in the bed of the truck, wearing his uniform and a rainbow feather boa and waving at the passing crowds. Every other year, he volunteered to work so that the queer staff members could attend the festivities, like an ally should.
This year, however, he was attending for real.
As it turned out, Pride was a lot more than just the parade. There were street fairs, art markets, concerts, movie screenings, and so, so many parties. Tommy would be Buck’s guide through the crazy, and so they were enjoying the afternoon heat by walking through the block party, browsing through the many vendors.
Walking hand-in-hand with Tommy, Buck’s attention was drawn not to the vendors, but to the crowds of people around them. Buck was struck by the sheer number of vibrant personalities surrounding them, a wave of contentment washing over him. Los Angeles was a pretty liberal city, but he realized this was the first time in his life he’d seen this much open queer affection in his entire life. In the daytime, no less. It was so affirming that he almost became overwhelmed, but instead he squeezed Tommy’s hand, basking in the fact that he felt so comfortable doing that.
The next booth they approached caught Buck’s eye. It was a simple booth, stocked only with dozens of rolls of stickers. The person behind the counter, young and welcoming, smiled as they walked up.
“Hey,” they greeted. “Stickers are pay-anything, with the proceeds going towards homeless queer youth.” They gestured at the donation box on the counter.
“Sure, why not?” Tommy said, reaching into his wallet and grabbing two five dollar bills. “Pick which one you like, on me,” he winked.
Buck studied the options in front of him, realizing the booth was offering every queer-adjacent sticker that could ever exist.
There were the identity labels, ranging from ones he was familiar with to ones he would need to Google later. There were pronoun stickers. Flag stickers, many of which he didn’t recognize. Stickers announcing relationship status. Stickers with puns and references to queer media. Stickers that were downright dirty or announcing preferred sex acts. Stickers that Buck was pretty sure related to niche fetishes but was too nervous to ask about. And many more with generic Pride-related sayings and images.
Buck was pretty sure that every single person that walked up to this booth would be able to pick out at least one sticker that applied to them, if not many more.
Buck took his time looking at his options, but truthfully he knew which one had caught his eye. He’d known as soon as he saw what this booth was offering. He considered making a joke and picking the ‘Ally’ sticker, but he knew the joke would only feel funny for a moment before it felt stale and he felt uncomfortable wearing it. He considered picking a random rainbow, not technically a lie but still feeling like a cop-out, before hastily pointing to his choice before he could change his mind.
The volunteer cut the sticker and handed it to Buck, who studied it for a moment before peeling it off and sticking it onto his shirt, on the right side of his chest.
Buck took a deep breath and turned back to Tommy, eyeing the “PROUD AS FUCK” sticker newly adorning his tank top, and saw Tommy’s eyes move to read Buck’s sticker.
“I like it,” Tommy said simply.
Buck glanced down at the sticker, its pink, purple, and blue background with “BISEXUAL” written in white letters. “I like it too. Bisexual.” The word came out without hesitation, without deflecting or even stuttering on it. “Feels like me.”
And Buck took Tommy’s hand, pulled him back to continue walking down the street, and Buck kissed him right there in the crowd under the sun, truly knowing what it meant to feel free.
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Note
so, you were Kitty?
(hiii btw!<3)
Hi!!
No, I’m not Kitty, but we’re practically the same person tbh 😅
Key differences:
Kit is a trans man. I have no clue what the fuck I am
I’ve only seen parts of Doctor Who. Kit is obsessed with it
I didn’t start watching Marvel until I was, like, 13? Kit has been watching it forever
Kit had this obsession with the marauders, thus dragging me into the rabbit hole. I’ve only just started Crimson Rivers
Also we have different bodies and brains and my eyes are gray and his eyes are blue and I have darker hair than him
Kit gets scared easily, I like horror
Kit can shift at will, I can also do this but every time I get close, I get scared and am like “wow, yes, dog, tea does sound lovely, thank you for offering!” (P.S. I don’t like tea)
We were kind of each other’s main human contact for a good few years (for reasons I don’t have the energy to explain), so when one of us would hyper fixate on something, the other would immediately do the same, just so we never ran out of things to talk about.
Kit is doing really well though, he just moved into his new house (although he has a skink infestation?) and he likes the “small town livin” thing, idk. He did talk about y’all all the time, so I know a bit more about y’all than you know about me. Feel free to ask any questions you like! (Also I have been assigned to break up fights between @zipperrants and @shiftingwithmars <3)
Hope that clears it up!!
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fizzyxcustard · 2 days
Note
Regarding the ask game about fanfic, I present to you this : ⭐
Go wild with the sequence you want to rant about. Feel the glee as you type an answer to this ask.
Thanks ☆♡☆
I’m so sorry for not replying to this sooner. In fact, I’ve been musing over which sequence to write about. It’s so incredibly hard to pick just one sequence, and my mind, for some reason, keeps coming back to this glorious bastard:
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My first Pilgrimage fic was “Wrong Place Wrong Time”, which I had such a blast writing and am considering re-writing. I think the fic needs work and could be made so much better now I’ve got more Raymond knowledge and experience under my belt. So, ahem, the sequence.
I’m going to choose this one:
“Every woman I have bedded has given themselves to me by choice. I have never had to resort to force with any woman.”
You chuckled wryly. “So no one can resist you? Talk about arrogance. Now I can see why you haven’t got a wife.”
Raymond stepped towards you again. “And do not lie and tell me you are not finding it difficult resisting temptation. I sense it all over you. As for taking a wife, that can soon be changed.”
His gaze penetrated you, curling around you tightly, and warmth spread throughout your entire being, forcing fear away, although only for a brief few moments. The next thing you realised was Raymond’s lips against yours and his hands cupping your face. You could not deny that his kiss was hot, electric and caused something to snap in you. That instinct you had been so terrified of unleashing was finally loose. Your kiss deepened, and you could taste wine, until his lips left yours and delved down your neck and onto your chest. Words would not come as you gasped. He left a trail of red hot fire down you.
His hand cupped your breast, teasing your nipple beneath the clothing. And you heard him growl. It was primal and animal-like. The growl drew a deep groan from you, followed by a word which you could not even fathom yourself. The word had become lost in translation from your brain to your lips as the arousal took you over.
You didn’t even notice as Raymond pushed you against one of the wooden pillars. Your whole body was on fire and he continued on kissing you hungrily, his tongue gently licking against your skin, paired with the tickling of his stubble.
But your rational mind began to make itself known and you opened your eyes, looking around and realising what was happening. “Raymond, stop!” you called out. “Please…” you begged. But he continued on kissing you, lapping at your breasts like an animal. “STOP!” you demanded, shoving him away.
Raymond glared at you, his eyebrows lowered and his eyes cold. “Do not deny that you enjoyed that!” he snarled. You were both panting, and you could feel the heat burning your cheeks and chest.
Without another word you raced out of the barn, not even caring if he followed you, or worse, tried to hurt you.
**
This scene is the first true interaction between the female reader and Raymond, and the sexual tension and frustration is monumental here. I really can’t put into words how much I adored writing this story, even though it’s riddled with mistakes and needs re-writing. It was my first venture into the Pilgrimage fandom.
The reader is so aware of her attraction to Raymond, but ultimately she’s scared of letting go. She’s scared of her own feelings and also of him. Gradually he’s worn her down to this scene, but she still takes the control back. And that’s what really keeps Raymond obsessed with her. She’s different. She has respect for herself. She’s proud and honours herself.
Raymond is using all his power to get her to see there’s something between them, even though he knows she knows. She just won’t admit it. And that frustration he feels is at bursting point. It’s more frustrating having someone deny you who you know is attracted to you.
Man, I love this fic! Not for its quality, but for the sheer passion I wrote it with. I love projects like this. And I hope I can find another one.
Here, have some more Raymond.
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Wrong Place Wrong Time, which is ultimately a time travel romance, can be found here on AO3, or in my masterlist (pinned at the top of my blog)
Psst! One last thing. There’s also a part 2. 😉😉
As always, if you wish to be added to my fic tag list (for all fics, a particular story or a particular character), then please message me and let me know. All comments and reblogs are appreciated more than you know. And asks are always welcome!!
Happy reading, writing and thank you for making it this far!
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hehey9098 · 2 days
Text
Loving you to death
Hey, I’m new in Tumblr.My second language is english, i hope my writing is good.It's a bit of a dark story, but I hope you enjoy it.
I remember when you were chubby, just chubby. When you could still walk and get out of bed, when you woke up and looked at me and told me it was the best for you. But everything took a 360 degree turn when you, the usual fat man… became motionless.
————————————————————————————————
“Honey, I'm just worried,” you told me, almost stopping eating. “My chest hurts lately, you know?”
“Yes I know, I think it's because of your fat family… with their heart problems and all that”
“Do you think I should visit the hospital? I mean, I used to leave the house, but now…”
“Oh fat man, we already talked about this, do you want people to see you like that? With your fat belly hanging out and your huge, greasy cheeks” - I scoffed a little - “how do I put you in the wheelchair?”
“You're right, you're the only one who really loves me,” her eyes were wet. “But you always leave the house and I'm scared.”
“Afraid of what?” “Are you afraid of running out of food while I'm not home?” I laughed out loud and he just looked at me sadly.
“No, you know what happens to fat people like me… heart attacks, cardiac arrests”- he said almost crying- “I don't want to die yet my love, I want to stay with you”
“What do you mean? You will stop eating for fear of death” - I walked away from his body - “You with your nonsense, I will be happy with you if you continue eating”
“Yes honey, I am gaining weight and I will continue to do so… we have our goal, right? I'll reach 450 kilos like you want,” he tried to smile but he seemed scared.
“Of course you'll keep swallowing if that's what you do all day,” I told him as he squished his cheeks. “Also, little one, why don’t we eat pizza?”
I fed him day after day, more and more each day, but there came a point where I stopped feeling love for him. I always wanted Agus to be eating, every part of him excited me… but only excitement without love. That night while we were in bed, I noticed him agitated.
-Rubí, I can't breathe- she was extremely agitated, but she was already prepared- Rubí, help me.
I hooked him up to an oxygen tank instantly, it was about time… I found it quite strange that he hadn't needed it before.
“Ruby, I'm hungry, please feed me,” he pleaded as she clutched her stomach.
“You already swallowed 8 minutes ago, I won't give you any more food” I feigned annoyance “Besides, pigs don't talk and you're just my pig”
“Ruby” He said with tears in her eyes. “Can I go to a hospital?” I'm not going to live anymore and you know it”
“You never know when our death will be, stop being an idiot” I sighed Stop talking, now I will feed you… I want to see how your fat expands
“Rubí, you only wanted me for your satisfaction” he closed his eyes and cried again “why can't you love me? I thought you wanted us to spend a life together”
“Agus, for me right now it's easier to see you as a pile of fat just to satisfy me” I said smiling.
“I thought you loved me too, I will be fat…maybe my heart has filled with fat and my blood has sugar because of my irresponsibility with my diet, but I have feelings and you played with my life and my health”
“You are my pig, I will not leave you in a hospital… the day you die will be when you eat your last bite”
“Rubí my love… I am your prisoner, at least love me in this time that you have left with me” I sigh tiredly
“Agus, I can't love a pig like you”
Rolls and rolls of butter piled up on the bed, her fat arms and deformed legs… his cheeks were big and she was constantly sweating even though she did nothing. He had a sad look and I know that his health was in danger, while he was sleeping one night I took blood samples and understood about his diabetes, hypertension and other problems.
That night Agus had headaches and again clutched his heaving chest. He was eating hamburgers while he told me nice things and that he loved me. I looked at him with guilt for not taking him to the hospital, but I didn't want a diet for him, I just wanted him to gain weight so his face would be full of fat. I didn't think he really loved me until that damn night.
"Rubí, what do you think… if we have a romantic date at home," he told me with a small smile on his face. "Like when we were young."
“A date, huh? With wine and food for both of us?” I said taking him by the hand -“The two of us eating at the table? Fat man, you are immobile
“But with luck we can both be at the table, with your help and that of the firefighters” his eyes were hopeful “Plus it would be nice to have a date with candles and that”
“Of course, while stuffing yourself with food? I would be embarrassed if the strong, sexy firefighters saw me with a motionless pig.” I looked him into his eyes. “Can you imagine what they would say: “poor woman living with a disgusting pig who doesn't even know how to bathe.”
Agus looked down and I realized that I made him feel bad for my comments. I grabbed him by the chin and told him to look me in the eyes. His teary eyes broke me.
“Honey, I'm disgusting, right? You always have to humiliate me, I don't like it when you do it. Because I treat you like a goddess and you just make fun of me.”
“Oh come on, I was just joking” I smiled “You're not going to feel bad just because of some comments…”
“The comments are always there. You always humiliate me. Like when you told your friends: "He's very fat and I feel sorry for him," he wiped away his tears.
I left the room, I hate when Agus gets so dramatic. I don't have time for that sentimental shit.
August:
It was a bleak afternoon at home, my wife was at work, but I had a surprise for her. I put on my new shirt with tie and shorts… I felt agitated again, but it was worth it. I left the Chinese food that was our favorite on the bed and bought some candles and wine. I even combed my hair and shaved, I wanted him to realize when he arrived that I'm not disgusting and I try to do everything possible to make him notice me like before.
The door opened and she entered the room, I was very nervous and scared. She looked at me and sat on the bed without saying anything.
"Why are you doing this?" She said with disgust: "I'm tired, take this off the bed and let me sleep."
"Oh come on, don't play hard to get," I smiled. "He's from your favorite restaurant and do you notice anything different about me?"
"Maybe we can enjoy the food," she said, tasting it. "You look good little pig, what I said on Thursday about you being disgusting isn't true."
I knew that Rubí did not take care of my health, she only felt excited by my body and although what she told me hurt me… I had to accept it. I, however, loved her too much and she knew it, he was still the same shy, polite and romantic boy. I remember that when we were teenagers she would go on weekends to talk to her father to let her go out with me.
“What's wrong my fat man?” She took my hand. "What are you thinking?" “She said,” she said, wiping a tear from my fat cheek.
"You were my first love and you will be the only one I will always have" I sighed "We have been through so much… I want to stay with you forever."
“I know, but I don't want you to lose weight… if I take you to the hospital, the first thing they will put you on will be a diet.”
“I can die and you act like you don't care about my death.” I felt hurt at that moment and cried harder. “Rubí… when was the last time you told me 'I love you'?”
“I don't know, it was a long time ago” she drank some wine.
"I know, it's been a long time since you kissed my lips" I looked down. “It's been a long time since you hugged me.
I approached my wife and kissed her, she followed me. When she ended the kiss I moved again, I blushed… I had no idea why. I looked at her a little longer and prepared to hug her as she told her that she loved her. We drank wine and I was satisfied with the food, I put my chubby hand on my stomach.
That night she hugged me, she pampered me and above all she fed me but my body couldn't resist. My heart that always beat for her, stopped doing so. Some doctors said it was because of a diabetic coma and others because my heart was no longer working well. But Rubí knows that before she died she told him one last “I love you.”
💕💕
Story I wrote months ago, I guess I got bored and just put words. As a good FFA that I am, I write about the best thing that exists: “Fat men so greedy that they eat until they die”
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gunilslaugh · 19 hours
Text
Not How It's Supposed To Be Pt.2
Goo Gunil Summary: Gunil’s reaction to finding out the truth about you. (non-idol au) WC:~1k Warning:none
part 1
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photo not mine credits to owner.
The tension in the room grew tenfold after those words left your mouth. You didn’t have any courage to look at Gunil. You could only look down at your lap. 
“What?" His tone was dead cold. It made you scared to speak, but you knew that you had to. 
“I was sent here undercover to get evidence about the illegal drug distribution you’re doing.” 
“So you’re no better than anyone else,” he states. His words prick your heart. 
“That was supposed to be the plan, but I haven’t been following it. I started to lie to them instead,” you disclosed. You can hear Gunil scoff from beside you. 
“Why should I believe that? Liars aren’t to be trusted.” His tone is harsh. 
“I told them about the shipment going out soon, but that’s it,” you say. 
“You expect me to believe that. You’ve been working here two months, but you’ve only told them about one shipment? Are you sure you didn’t help them break into the warehouse?” He accused you.
“I didn’t know about that until after it happened,” you defended. You found the courage to meet his eye. 
“Oh really?” he asked sarcastically. 
“If I had known I would have warned you!” You raised your voice. Something in Gunil’s demeanor shifts, but he does a good job at hiding it. 
“Why?” he questioned. 
“Cause I care about you and I know you probably won’t believe that either, but it's the whole reason why I’m coming clean. I don’t want to lie to you anymore. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Get out.” His voice is emotionless. 
“Ok.” You stand up from the couch with shaky legs. You make your way over to the door. “Be sure to change that shipment,” you say before opening the door. You pull the handle of the door and exit Gunil’s office. As soon as the door closes you can hear a bunch of smashing and the sounds of items breaking. Each item that hits the floor feels like a hit to your heart. 
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be at all. Go undercover and get evidence. It wasn’t a complicated plan, but your heart had to go and complicate everything. You were never supposed to care about Gunil. The possibility of him getting hurt shouldn’t phase you at all. Him getting caught was supposed to feel like justice had been served, yet now you’re helping him evade getting caught. What was wrong with you?
Your feet practically drag across the floor as you walk back to your desk. You collected your things and started on your way out of the building. Upon exiting you take one last look at the large building. Eyes trailing up to the window where Gunil’s office would be. A sigh leaves your stressed body. Just forget all about this. You tell yourself. Like it was a dream. None of it ever happened. You don’t know who Gunil is. You tear your eyes away from the window and turn your back. Leaving it all behind. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What do you mean you’re done? Did Gunil find out? Did he threaten you?” Your very confused and frustrated partner interrogated you. 
“I just don’t want to do this anymore ok? I’m not cut out for being undercover. I can’t handle the lying. I don’t-” Want to be the kind of person Gunil hates the most. Wait, no, you weren’t supposed to think about him anymore. You left. It’s over now. It’s none of your concern. He’s none of your concern. “I’m done. Let’s pretend we never knew one another,” you say.
“Y/n you can’t be done. This is too sudden. You were fine last week. What happened? If he threatened you you can tell me. I’ll help you,” your partner tells you. 
“He didn’t threaten me,” you tell them. 
“Then what is it?” they asked.
“I told him!” You confessed. 
“Y-you what!”
“I told him! I told him that I was sent to work there undercover,” you revealed. 
“Are you crazy! Why? Why would you?” Your partner looked at you like you were insane. 
“I guess I am. I don’t really understand it either, but the more time I spent with him. The more I couldn’t lie to him.”
“So what, you fell in love with him?” they scoffed. 
“I don’t think you could call it love, but I do care about him,” you confess. 
“You really have lost your mind. You know what kind of person he is. His drugs are killing people y/n. How could you fall for someone like that!”
“I don’t know! But that’s why I’m done. I don’t want anything to do with this anymore.” 
“How much did you tell him about us?” Your partner looks at you with a look of betrayal, it stabs you.
“Just that I told you about the shipment and that I know it was you who broke into the warehouse, but I never revealed anything about your identity or anything else,” you state. 
“I guess you have some sense left in you. You’re right I think it’s best that you aren’t involved anymore. Let’s part ways here.” 
“Ok, that’s what I was trying to do anyway,” you say. Your partner practically stormed out of your place after that. You somehow managed to feel worse than you already did, but another part of you felt a bit better. It felt like you could now truly put all of this mess behind you. You could move on with your life and act like it never happened. The storm was over. All you had to do now was pick yourself up from the aftermath. 
Later that night as you were getting ready for bed there was a knock on your door. Your brows knitted in confusion as you walked over to the door of your apartment. You certainly weren’t expecting anyone. 
“Who is it?” you asked. 
“Open the door,” the voice on the other side says. It was a voice you recognized. You twisted the handle and opened the door. 
“Gunil.”
part 1
Taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143
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thriftingfreak · 2 days
Text
Nothing Lasts Forever
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x female ares!reader
Summary: Some moments in time where Luke and you can’t seem to figure out how you feel about one another. Part 1??? Maybe more if y’all like it!
Warnings: Yearning. Pretty much a yearning page at this point. Also a lot of background building. My bad yall. This is so long i’m sorry _____________________________________
the very first night
The day you rolled into camp is a day that will go down in infamy.
At least, for Luke it would.
There was no day he would ever remember more clearly.
The sun rose among the clouds beating down upon the plethora of kids and teenagers. He could remember helping some of the younger Demeter and Dionysus kids in the fields with their different crops ranging from strawberries to the beloved camp grapes. Luke wasn’t the biggest fan of grapes himself but he never turned down one from a Dionysus kid.
“Yes, those look perfect Courtney” A grin spread wide across his face as he watched the girl pluck a perfectly ripe strawberry from the plant. If anyone knew how to grow good fruit, it was a Demeter kid.
As he stood up, he brushed his khaki shorts clear of dirt. A flash of a shadow appeared from the corner of his eye. As he turned around, he came eye to eye with a very bewildered face.
“Where am I?” You muttered out. You bent over, placing your hands on your knees. He could tell that you had been running from something terrifying enough to prompt the expression.
“Camp Half-Blood” was all Luke could muster up.
“What?” Oh, this poor girl had no idea how her life was about to change.
“Are you okay?” Luke asked, looking you up and down. Your jean shorts were slashed and your right elbow looked like it had been burned.
You looked up after catching your breath, you shook your head. It was a dumb question, because anyone could see you clearly weren’t doing too great. To this day Luke still felt embarrassment from it.
But even with your confusion and aloofness, you followed him to the infirmary and get the cuts and gashes cleaned up.
Your feet dragged along the path, a couple feet behind him. When Luke turned around, your eyes were pointed toward the ground to the mud stained tennis shoes.
He wanted to explain Camp Half-Blood and every single thing that came with it, the good and the bad. Although now definitely wasn’t the best time. He was afraid you would burst into tears or worse, start hitting him. Luke learned that some of the campers react in that manor, the hard way. Thoughts rattled his brain trying to figure out the best decision.
“Why are you staring at me? Never seen a girl been chased by a big ass bear before?” you snipped at him. At least she wasn’t crying, he thought.
“Uh, actually I have” Luke smiled at you, hoping you would appreciate the sentiment.
You did not. A scowl festered on your face. Maybe from all this anger you’d end up being an Ares kid.
This thought process would prove him to be correct.
Entering the infirmary, he guided you over to a room with several beds. Collapsing on one of them, you shoved your shoes off. You brought your knees to your chest, staring at the ceiling. It was difficult to comprehend the sudden and profound change in your life. Luke knew the feeling all too well.
Luke sat down in the chair across from you. He watched you, almost with care. You seemed to notice though because you immediately sat up.
“Is someone going to explain what’s going on here?” He noticed the sudden quietness in your voice.
Taking a deep breath Luke started the same speech he gave every new camper, with some exceptions. He left out minor details usually directed toward young campers. You clearly weren’t young, at least 16 or 17. Pretty old for a new camper but hey, Luke didn’t discriminate. A part of him didn’t want to scare you away with all of the knew information, leading to little white lies.
“I’ll give you a tour tomorrow morning of camp but I think you should just rest up for now” Luke stood up, walking toward the door. As much as he wanted to stay, he knew the Apollo kids had to do their job.
“Oh by the way” He turned around to face you, “I’m Luke.”
You gave him a curt nod before shutting the door in his face. __________________________________________
a place in this world
It took a couple of months but it finally seemed like you were settling in. Even though your mom had told you about the Gods and Goddesses and how your father was a God, you didn’t have the heart to believe her. That was, until a hairy brown creature was chasing after you.
For the first time in weeks you noticed you didn’t wake up with a heavy heart, missing home.
Someone else noticed it too.
Luke, very slowly, had built up your trust. He really was a good guy, even though he annoyed the piss out of you at first. Countless lonely nights in the Hermes cabin had been made better by him. He would listen to you complain about everything and cry over missing your mom.
That was until an intense game of flag football concluded in being claimed.
After Chris had thrown the ball to some poor Athena kid, you chased after him. Yanking the strap around his waist so hard it sent him flying into the ground. When the ball launched up in the air, you had caught it, sprinting so hard you thought you were going to throw up. In the end, it didn’t end up counting as a point for your team, to your disappointment. Although when a red holographic boar appeared over your head, peace finally seemed to settle in your heart.
The Athena kid did end up in the infirmary after the game but in your defense no one had explained the rules of flag football to you.
On the other hand being claimed meant moving out of the Hermes cabin. In some ways, this was an upside. No more blue dye in your shampoo or whip cream on your face. You wouldn’t feel like you wanted to drown the Stoll brother.
The one who was affected by your claiming the most though was no other than Luke. So many warm nights of your body heat radiating off of his own were no longer. He couldn’t reach out to you in the dark anymore. Now it’s for the better, he thought.
Even with these bubbling feelings, he couldn’t force himself to come to terms with them. They would sit in the back of his throat, burning and itching. But maybe the pain was worth it.
That night he helped you pack your things up to move in with your newfound siblings.
“I wonder why it took so long to get claimed” You wondered out loud, shoving your childhood teddy bear into your backpack.
“The Gods do everything on their own time” Luke’s face fell into a solemn stare. You knew it was a touchy subject for him, specifically his own father. Ares may not have been the best shoulder to lean on but in his own ways he still managed to beat out Hermes by a mile.
Doing your best to shake his mind from it you said, “Did you see Bryce though? I really didn’t mean to yank him so hard” You smiled at Luke and in return you were granted the smallest laugh.
The next morning, you were itching to hang out with your friends (and distance yourself a tad from your brand new siblings). It was a group Luke got along with, but didn’t care much for. Gods knows why. Of course, however, your new found sister Clarisse remained a part of the friend group and Luke never really liked her. She was soft with you and some of your other siblings but rarely anyone else.
The rocky path crumbled under your shoes as you made your way to dinner. You swung your water bottle around your hands before spotting a warm and familiar face.
“Hey Poppy” a smile broached your face. You linked arms with the daughter of Athena. Even though you loved your friendship with Luke, Poppy was your number one. She had only been here for a month before your arrival, causing a very tight knitted bond between the two of you.
“How was the first night in the Ares cabin?” Sharing a look, you both knew the answer. You shrugged. There wasn’t much to share. Your brothers and sisters didn’t seem to hold their rage as well as you thought they might. Arguments ended in screaming matches. Or a dagger being thrown.
“Listen, I’m hot-headed but they really take it to the next level” You both giggled.
Right before you stepped up to the pavilion, Poppy unhooked your arms, turning to face you. “Are you sitting with us today or,” she paused and in air quotes she said “Lukie Pookie?”
Ah yes, the nickname everyone around camp designated upon him. You knew Poppy meant no harm by it but even just by the mention of him, it felt like a pillow smashed your stomach.
Brushing it off you quickly looked around for him, “I was planning on sitting with you guys and I don’t even think he’s here yet.”
Poppy raised an eyebrow and pointed to the curly haired boy across the pavilion. Shrugging once more, you grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the opposite side of the benches.
Your friends, a cluster of kids from different cabin, were gathered in their usual spot. Before you could even sit down, someone called out your name. Whipping around, it seemed as if the curly haired boy teleported.
“Speak of the devil” Poppy muttered. You lightly smacked her shoulder.
“Hey” A soft smile graced Luke’s lips, “Mind if I sit?”
Interesting.
His eyes lingered in yours for a moment before you shook yourself out of it.
“Of course!” You patted the spot next to you. You mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to the group, just incase.
A flash of hesitation crossed his eyes but he plopped down anyway.
“Mhm! I’ve been meaning to ask you Luke” your friend Ben started “I was wondering if you could help me with my swordsmanship?”
Luke nodded quickly before turning to face you. It was the signal that he wasn’t interested in the conversation. Although you knew Ben would pry about it later as Ben was also a child of Hermes.
But he didn’t see things in the way you did. Instead Luke focused on how your hair fell in front of your eyes. It took everything he had in him to not move it. Others around him could talk and talk and talk but he was only ever focused on you. Over and over again he chose you. But what were best friends for, right? __________________________________________
snow on the beach
The sound of footsteps against a shallow pier never particularly bothered Luke. That was if they weren’t disturbing his peace.
The humming of the trees blowing in the wind, soothed his mind over. His eyes followed the way the fish swam with air bubbles peeking over the surface.
Watching the water helped slow everything down. His particularly dense relationship with his father was starting to wear down on him. Luke knew how even the scar on his face didn’t do his hatred justice.
Too clouded by his thoughts, he didn’t notice a familiar giggle breezing behind him.
You placed your fingers over Luke’s eyes and he immediately reached up to touch your hands.
He turned around and peered up, meeting your gaze. Luke’s breathe slowed when he met your eyes. There was a mutual sense of warmth between the two of you. Shared between little moments of laughter and light. And just by looking up at you, he knew he was in a little too deep.
Luke could, of course, fess up. But even the thought of that made him want to hurl his cookies. It’s not like he wanted these feelings and trust, he’s tried to get rid of them. They were more painful than awkward. The flutter in his stomach when you stood just a little to close to him. The way he caught his breath anytime you looked up at him and smiled. Or the shakiness in his throat and on his tongue whenever you quipped a snarky comment.
He quickly stood up reveling how he towered over you so easily.
His eyes glanced down to your hands which had been pulling something out of your jean pocket. A small string bracelet was cupped between your hands.
He snatched it from you, looking it over. It was covered in red and blue zig zags. His favorite colors.
“Hey” you whined, “I worked hard on that.”
A grin broke out on his face, “Is it for me?”
You frowned, “Well it was supposed to be but since you don’t seem to have much patience, I’ll be taking it right back!”
Before you could seize the gift back, Luke’s arm shot up in the air, holding the bracelet overhead. It was a trick he pulled on you plenty of times. Of course it did nothing but annoy you yet that was the fun of it.
Many could not dupe a child of Hermes. Even so, if there is one thing you inherited from your father it was the fight response in oppose to flight.
Your hands wrapped around the front of Luke’s orange t shirt, bunching it into a fist. Swiftly you yanked him back just enough before you efficiently shoved him backwards.
In the blink of an eye, he performed a large flop into the lake. Although the water that had skyrocketed upwards, dunked you clean with water. Worth it.
Now soaking wet, his mane of dark curly hair, bobbed up and down in the water.
“Not cool” He sputtered out. He pulled his upper body on the dock, holding his hand out for you to grab.
You sighed, knowing what was about to happen. In order to escape future prank endeavors, you had to let him do it.
Before you knew it, you were handing over your right to dry clothes.
Head hitting the water first, you tumbled off the deck. Your entire body, including the dry clothes, plunged into the inhospitable water. How on earth could fish swim in water this cold?
As soon as you breached the water, Luke shoved your head down. Well played.
“Was that necessary?” you groaned, water stuck in your ears and nose. Luckily it was pretty shallow otherwise you would have been way more upset.
“I have bad news” Luke paused, running a hand through his hair, “I think I lost your bracelet” He hesitantly waited for the backlash he was about to receive.
As soon as your mouth started to curl into a frown he knew it was over.
You dove headfirst into Luke. He tumbled back and you pushed him so far under he hit the sand. Although it wasn’t that deep, he managed to grab onto you, pulling you underwater with him.
Your laugh threw bubbles all around. His brown eyes shot open. For a minute he seemed like he was searching yours for something.
In just a couple of moments, it felt like the world stopped moving. You could feel the air in your lungs start to sting. Maybe it was time to resurface.
You mentally clocked all of the seconds you could spend underwater without passing out.
But when Luke smiled, all of your thoughts went muddy. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up.
You gasped for air, feeling the sharpness. It quickened when you realized Luke’s shirt cling to his body.
Look away look away look away look away.
A hint of rose rushed to your cheeks. You cursed yourself for thinking anything different.
After you two had burned every ounce of energy you had, you found yourself laying on the deck, eyes closed.
You could hear Luke breathe as his chest fell up and down.
The sun started to set in the distance, and the buzz of grasshoppers with Luke laying next to you is all you needed.
It’s all you ever wanted.
Almost as if he read your mind, Luke mumbled “I could lay here for hours.”
You hummed in response, simply glad he appreciated the sentiment as much as you did.
Something tickled your cheek with its moisture. You opened your eyes to find small snowflakes falling from the clouds. Snow, specifically snow at Camp Half Blood was rare.
It was weird, but it was fucking beautiful.
It crossed your mind that maybe it was Zeus’s doing, a little reward. You were reminded that even though the Gods had failed you time after time, there were small moments where none of it seemed to matter.
Like laying next to the boy who pulled at your heart strings when snow fell.
You glanced at Luke and caught a glimpse of his smile. The way his lips tugged at each other, you knew he felt the exact same way. It was provoking the way you both knew the ins and outs of one another.
In the back of your mind, you knew the snow wouldn’t last long as it was the start of summer. But oh how you enjoyed it so.
As some would say, nothing lasts forever.
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Authors note: I definitely meant to put this out sooner however I have been booked and busy! Now that it’s summer, I should definitely have more time to write because I love writing this stuff. Lemme know if you guys want more pieces in time of Luke and reader! Also if you have any requests or recommendations send them in!!!!
-Bee
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