#...I hated it cause I only heard the stuff on the radio and had the false impression it all sounded like Lil Jon

[testure-1988]

#krush groove #this is pretty much the case with anyone who hates rap/hip hop #...I hated it cause I only heard the stuff on the radio and had the false impression it all sounded like Lil Jon #and Chamillionaire #i never once listened to anything from the golden age #and then Public Enemy & Nujabes both opened my eyes to how great hip hop can be

[undercoverpena]

keep you close.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader summary: he's pretty sure he's in love with you. not that he'll admit it, acknowledge it. an: angst with fluff, mentions of injury, war-stuff, cheeky stabbings, just cod things. no smut. just feelings. cause I wanted flangst. word count: 3.6k

masterlist for ghost.

Ghost doesn’t think when his eyes land on you. 

He should. 

He knows he should. 

But he fires his gun all the same, not content with the sound each body makes when they fall to the floor. He wants them to fall harder, almost land and shatter. 

He wants them to hurt.

It’s all he thinks as he slides the metal edge along the throat of the last one. The one who is hissing at him in a language he doesn’t even care to translate. 

Ghost cares about one thing, and one thing only: getting that radio message out of his head. 

It’s an ambush. Do not proceed. Get out—

It has been on a loop since he heard it.

Your radio message. 

The one which made Soap shout, calling for you as the static and crackle came back. The sound which made his blood run cold. The one which made him charge across the base grab the person who confirmed the intel by the shoulder, and made them piss themselves. Accidentally, of course.

It had been Soap who suggested sweeping the place, but it hadn’t been far from his mind.

They found your radio stood on, crushed—likely by your own boot. You’d always been thorough—you also usually wiggled your way out of these situations, 

It’s how you’d earned the moniker Mouse to begin with. 

His eyes caught the dried blood, hoping it didn’t belong to you as his flashlight followed its path until his jaw locked, his muscles tensing. 

Your scrunchie. 

That ridiculous one you bought months ago. The one which you’d found hilarious, and he had found anything but. Black, with tiny ghosts on it, for Halloween. No other reason, you’d said with a smirk. Unless you want to borrow it, sir? 

It’s in his pocket now. 

Has been since he found it. 

As he lets the last man fall, he brushes the pocket with his hand before wiping the blood on his thigh, sheathing his knife.

Turning, nodding in the direction of the other men as they checked them as he moved across the room to you, sliding his gun behind his back, and dropping to his knees. 

We bring Mouse back. By any means necessary. 

He’s thankful you’re alive and breathing. Watching as your head tilts —trying to work out who it is. Cautiously, both for the fact he’s considering it and for the knowledge he could hurt you, his gloved hand slides up your cheek, watching you tense before he pulls down the blindfold with his fingers. 

One eye is swollen, horrid, and puffy. Something which makes him want to put extra holes in each of the men for it. But, he can’t take his eyes from the one of yours, which blinks, and stares at him, taking him in. 

“I’m undoin’ this cuff.” 

You swallow, nodding, trying to keep the eye fixed on him. The handcuff releases from your wrists as your arms drop weakly. 

It’s then he can see the bruises. 

The ones which have formed and the ones about too. 

How the colours vary in spots along your exposed arms, neck and cheeks. Dreading to think of how deep they go, how far they spread under your clothes. 

“Sir…” you whisper, his head moving closer. “You’re a piss poor listener.”

“Almost as bad as you, soldier.”

Cautiously, he moves closer, his knees hitting against your legs as his hand slowly brushes over your arm. 

He’s aware the others have their eyes trained on him, Soap giving orders, busying them. It doesn’t stop him from moving his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close until his chest is close to your side.

“Do you want me to close my eye, make it easier for you?” you cough—sounding like a deflated lung. “You seem the type to hate touching people.”

“Enough.” 

It comes out gruff, but he knows that you don’t take it that way. The side of your busted lip twitching as he pulls you over his lap. 

He’s pretty sure it’s the gentlest he’s ever been, even more so with someone. He doesn’t mean to press his forehead against the side of yours. But, he thought he’d lost you. 

The annoying girl who talked too much, who smiled and had no issues with personal space. Unless you were on the battlefield. Then, you were different—quiet, tactile, mouselike. You scurry, you don’t miss, with a gun, a knife or a computer. 

Ghost knew he was fucked before today. 

But, this confirms it. 

The sharp pang in his chest is a horrid, bitter reminder of how fucked he is—especially with how his heart skips a beat when your hand shakes as it brushes against his mask.

He should look away as he lifts you, breaking the stare he has with you, but you move closer, whispering for him—and him alone. “I knew-w you’d find me.” 

He tightens his jaw, feeling a lump in his throat as he gives a curt nod. “Always.” 

“Always,” you repeat softly, eyelashes fluttering, desperate to close.

“Hey, eyes on me,” he says, and you do your best. You hope he knows that. “Good girl.” 

You hear someone shout for a medic, but it’s not him. 

He’s saying very little, just letting his breath dance across your neck and cheek as he holds you to him.

The next time he sees you, he's visiting you when you’re in recovery.

He’s heard from others you’re improving. Soap nudging him, ensuring he’s heard him—thinking he knows more than he does.

He does go, though. 

You’re smaller than him, but you look so much smaller in the bed. Your face finally regaining some colour, an expression not twisted up in pain. The bruises faded, eyes unswollen. 

It’s a welcomed sight after the last time he saw you.

He crosses the recovery room floor, the room slowly emptying around him. He was glad that the rest of the med bay was without patients. 

His chair squeaks with protest when he sits beside you, eyes glancing over your face, over your arms, checking and checking that everything is where it was supposed to be. 

You say nothing. 

He says nothing. 

He just sits, staring at you, letting his eyes roll over your face. You seem to let him, likely basking in the fact that you’re currently not being boiled alive by him. 

It’s nice. Quiet. 

It’s helping to drown out the whimpers and groans you’d been making all the way back here from your injury. 

Until the tension reaches such a height even if you can’t stomach it. 

“What you doing here, Lt?” 

“Ensuring you don’t act recklessly.” 

“I think I can behave for one night.”  

“Doubtful.” 

You play with the sheets on the bed, rolling them between your fingers as he watches you, knowing what’s coming before you’ve even opened your pretty little mouth. 

“I’d behave for you, if you asked.” 

Sometimes, your brashness even surprises him. 

“I have asked,” he says, stretching his leg out as he watches you smile. “You still disobey me.” 

You nuzzle down into your pillow, not taking your eyes off him. 

“Sleep, Mouse.” 

“With you watching me?” 

He clicks his tongue. “Sleep.” 

You smile softer, eyelashes looking heavy. “Okay.” 

Nodding, he interlocks his gloved fingers over his lap. 

You’d been silent. 

Too silent. 

He knew how you got your Codename. He’d read your file, after all. You sneaked through impossible holes figuratively and literally. Price had informed him how good you were with computers, he hadn’t known how good until he read it himself. 

You were good, capable, and able. 

He knew you could handle yourself, which is why it wasn’t that which concerned him. It’s the silence. 

You’ve been quieter overall since you came back—since he brought you back. Since he helped carry you back to the truck till he watched you get patched up. 

Something inside of you, that annoyingly cheerful part of you, had withered. He knew it, Soap knew it. 

“You following me?” 

“Could say the same to you.”

“Can someone even stalk a ghost?” 

You’d tried to hide it, more so from him than the others. Your body trying to twist from him, but his arm had stopped you.

“Something you need, Lt?” 

“No.”

You’d given him a curt smile. “Goodnight then, sir.” 

He didn’t miss the way you added the sir.

Not that he expects he’s supposed to. Shifting his jaw from side to side, having watched you walk down the corridor, not even bothering to turn to look back at him. 

That had been two days ago. 

Today, you had dark circles around your eyes. A tenseness in your shoulders as you were all briefed. 

He waited, seeing if you approached him, and asked him to stay behind—not entirely sure what his answer would be if you requested it. 

But you didn’t. 

It should have been a warning, your demeanour shifting, darkness descending down over you the closer they got to the location. 

“Mouse, you copy?” 

Silence. 

Even to Soap. 

Often, Ghost knew he warranted your anger. 

He was colder with you, more stern. Especially since he’d allowed himself a moment—when he’d been able to hold you, carry you. When he’d felt your heartbeat and watched your eyes fix on him—warming him. 

He had wanted distance and walls. Many of them, more so. 

Now, he wishes he hadn’t. 

Because with Soap, you were light, never ignorant. And maybe he’d have recognised how your anger and hurt had consumed you. That what happened between you being taken and being found had festered and eaten everything good inside of you.

He could relate. 

More than most. 

“Mouse,” Ghost radios, gruff voice and all. “Fuck.” 

He taps Soap, heading in your direction, almost charging. He knew it before he saw it before his foot kicked open the door and witnessed it with his own eyes. 

He even freezes for the briefest second. 

Half impressed with the number of bodies on the floor. 

But then he reacts, hooking an arm under your hips as he both lifts and moves you against the wall. The knife falling from your fingers, clattering against the stone, the only other sound is your panicked breaths and Soap exclaiming, “Steaming bloody Jesus…” as he enters the room. 

His forearm presses into the wall beside your head, caging you in as his other palm presses into the wall next to your hip. 

Because it was the mission to kill him—once they’d got the information. 

The information he couldn’t currently prove you had—but he’d hoped you did. Because otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to contain his anger, his fury. Right now, it simmered, being kept back by that vacant look in your eyes he doesn’t recognise. Not in you, at least. 

You’re not looking at him. Not meeting his eyes. 

Too busy staring at the body on the floor, the one which has scarlet seeping from each hole you’d inflicted with a knife. His knife. 

“Mouse.” 

You don’t move, staring as if transfixed in the knowledge he’s dead. 

So he whispers your name. 

Your real name. 

Your eyelashes flutter into a blink, head-turning, finally pulling from the man who kidnapped you on the floor. 

“Got the drive,” you say in a tone void of emotion. 

Ghost didn’t want to shout, he didn’t want to scream at you, but he did all the same. 

Both in anger that you disobeyed an order and in a panic because he couldn’t stop the way his mind unravelled when you didn’t respond. 

That it took him back to that moment all over again. Where you were taken from him. Where he lost you. Where he should have protected you. 

“You wanna explain what the fuck happened back there?” 

You don’t look at him, folding your arms over your chest, suddenly finding the floor interesting. Pressing the sole of your foot against the wall as you leant, seemingly unbothered.

“That’s an order, Soldier—“

“I collected the information, and I stabbed him. Mission complete. Sir.” 

Sir. 

Fucking sir. 

He hated how it made him hard. Little bitch. 

“You disobeyed a direct order—“

“—The mission—“

“—You were supposed to wait for backup.” 

“I couldn’t risk it.” 

He rounds on you, forehead pressing against yours. “You couldn’t risk it?” 

Your eyes don’t soften. They hold his gaze, full of fire, ash and destruction. “Well. We’ve both seen the evidence of bad intel, haven’t we?” 

He stills. 

Blinking, staring into your eyes, seeing the darkness still swirling. The anger has lessened but still remains. 

“You need to let it go.” 

“I need to… what?” You look hurt, more than he thought you could, and then it vanishes, swept away by anger. “…fuck you, Ghost.” 

Moving from him, turning your back on him 

“Fuck me? If you continue down this path—“

Then you turn, your eyes burying into him. “It’ll what? Keep me up at night? Consume me? Well, guess what, Simon, it already has.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, a tremor to your outstretched arm before you snap it back to your side. “For days, they asked me who we were. They had ideas. They did… inklings. But, they… they knew my fucking name, Simon. They…told me what they’d do, and I had nothing, not a single thing to drown it out as they described all the ways they’d kill Johnny, how they’d break Gaz, how they’d hurt…” 

You. 

The unspoken word hanging in the room. 

“I got it before, I did,” you say, words shaky at your almost declaration, “but I understand why you wear that mask—why you keep people out…” 

Your eyes fill with tears, one’s he wishes he could wipe away before they even meet your cheeks. 

“People you know can hurt you the most… right? That's what you said.” 

His head reeling back an inch, but it feels like he’s been hit. And then you leave, storming out of the room, and he doesn’t stop you. 

Because he knows he shouldn’t. 

Because you’d called him Simon. 

Not Ghost. 

He hates that you’re not here. 

You’ve been avoiding him. Outside of briefings and necessity, you’re nowhere else to be found. 

The rest of them are around a table, beers in their hands. His mask lifted just enough to enjoy his—if it didn’t taste like nothingness. 

Because there were no kind eyes on him. No jesting coming from a soft, sweet voice. 

Especially right now, when it’s needed as they discuss who they’re currently fucking their fist over. He hears someone ask him, something he ignores. 

And then Soap speaks for him. “I think Ghost here has his eyes on—“

“That’ll do.”

The others snigger, mumbling about getting some air as he cracks his neck. Hoping if he ignores Soap enough, he’ll vanish too. 

“Talk to her.” 

Ghost rolls his head on his shoulders, meeting his sergeant's expecting face.

Soap slaps his hand on his back. “Trust me, Lt, talk to her.” He tries to think of something, anything, to respond with. He hasn’t got anything until he continues, “Didn’t think you had a heart.” 

“A cold one. I have a cold one.” 

Soap smirks. “I doubt it’ll remain that way.” 

It doesn’t take him long to find you, seeing you huddled over papers and a computer. 

He considers watching you, but he steps in before he’s caught, offering you a mug, one you stare at suspiciously before taking it. 

You prefer a milky tea, one sugar. 

A person after his own heart. 

Right now, he imagines you need something different, so he chose coffee.

“What’s this?” 

“A boost. You need it.”

“Thanks?” 

He doesn’t know what to say. 

Letting himself see how dark the bags under your eyes have gotten. 

“You’re not sleepin’.” 

“Can’t.” 

He taps the desk with two fingers, your eyes lifting up to face him. Slowly, he retracts his hand, holding your stare as he takes his glove from his hand. He knows his sleeve has risen, the ends of his tattoo showing as he offers you his hand.

“You made me a drink, and now you want me to what, leave it?” 

Slowly, he nods. 

Your huff sounds before you stand, slapping your hand into his. It isn’t until your fingers are in his does he watch your eyes flicker, realising that you're touching him—really touching him. 

“Ghost…” 

“C’mon. Now.” 

He doesn’t let go or lessen his hold, not even when you slide your fingers between his. Not when everything inside of him tells him to run, to tell you to run. 

His mouth doesn’t open, it remains shut as he brings you to his room, opening the door, letting it swing open before he lets his eyes meet yours. 

Letting your eyes take it in before he nudged you forward. 

“Ghost…” 

“Simon,” he says gruffly. “My name is Simon.”

He shuts the door slowly behind the two of you, releasing your hand, moving it to his neck. 

Your eyes follow him, the air thickening—he can feel it. The hairs on the back of his neck standing, the ones on his arms standing. He’s even sure time is ticking slowly. 

Especially when he begins to slide his mask up, slowly showing you his chin, his cheeks, and his nose. 

Your lips parting, mouth falling open as he pulls it off that last bit. Nothing hidden, not from you. 

Swallowing, you make a noise, a squeak as if you’re about to say something, before clamping your mouth shut. 

“Hi.” 

Your lips twitch. “Hi.” 

His fingers brush yours ever so slightly, forcing your eyes to dip before landing back on his with so much adoration—he’s not sure how he deserves it. Any of it.

“What does this mean?” 

“It means you go to sleep. Here.” 

You raise a brow, and he almost smirks. Almost.

“Not like that.” 

Shrugging, you smile. “Coulda fooled me.”

Sighing, he lets go of your fingers. “You can’t sleep because you’re alone. But, if I’m here—“

“You’ll keep the ghosts away?” 

He runs his tongue over the front of his teeth. 

“Anything else this… declaration means? 

“Means you can trust me.”

He watches your head tilt, a scrunch to your brows and your forehead as you look at him. “I trusted you anyway.”

“Then get in bed.” 

He wonders if your cheeks are warm if they’re full or blush. More so when your eyes land on the floor, and he turns his back, moving to his things, finding you a t-shirt. 

On you, it’ll bury you. 

Which makes it perfect, just as perfect as the sound of you undoing your belt is to him and the faint sound of your trousers hitting the floor. 

“Here,” he says, holding the T-shirt behind his back, not wanting to look. 

Not even when he feels your fingers slide down his forearm, over his ink. When he feels your index and middle slide along his pulse, over his wrist and palm before taking it. 

It’s not until he feels your hands on his sides does he turn, your eyes looking up at him—somewhat close to the eyes he knew, the ones which first had his heart pulsing furiously as it is now. 

“Do you snore?” 

“Don’t think so.” 

“Sleep naked?” 

“Not all the time.” 

“Good,” you comment, loosening your grip as he turns to face you. “Hate for you to have gone to all this effort to not let me get a wink of sleep.” 

The double meaning of your words isn’t lost on him. 

Especially when he sees the twinkle in your eye, the grin desperate to blossom over your lips. 

“Unless…”

“Another time,” he says, even if he hates himself for it just a bit. “Now, get in bed.” 

You nod, smiling, “Yes, Sir.” 

Fucking hell. “Less of that.” 

“Any reason?” 

He snorts, turning to watch you climb into his bed, slowly pulling his T-shirt over his head, hearing you inhale as if your mouth was next to his ear. 

“I’m tryin’ to be a gentleman.”

He flicks the light off, wondering if your heart is hammering as much as his. Each step towards you feels like a mile, but he’d do it again and again. Feeling for your hand and the sheets you’re offering him, sliding in beside you.

For a moment, he’s tense. 

Just as you are. 

Especially as his bare legs find yours, your back to his chest, hair tickling his nose. He waits, letting you make the first move for comfort, feeling you breathe heavily before shuffling against him. Fingers trying to keep your hair out of his way, pulling it, twisting it.

And he remembers sliding his hand under his pillow, pulling it out slowly, the fabric rolling between his thumb and finger before he finds your hand over the sheets. He feels you tense, likely recognising it instantly, slowly taking it from him as you move, turning to face him.

Even in the darkness, he makes out your features. 

His hand reaches up, touching his chin before fingers spread up your cheeks. His thumb rolls over your bottom lip, wanting to kiss you desperately. 

“You found it?” 

He says nothing.

“You kept it?” 

He breathes out. “I did.” 

You must feel his heart hammering. You have to. 

Your body slowly comes down, arms sliding around his chest before hands find themselves on the back of his neck. 

His head turns as you let hug him, as your body says everything without so much as speaking. And all he can think is he’s an inch away from your lips. 

He’s within reach. 

He could. He should. 

“Simon…” you whisper. 

His throat goes dry, and then you kiss him. 

Silencing his mind, silencing everything that doesn’t matter—doubt, worry and the sound of that radio message—as he runs his hands over his T-shirt that covers your body. 

Pulling you close. 

Keeping you close.

I’m with you : read part two

#simon 'ghost' riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #ghost riley #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley angst #simon ghost riley angst #ghost cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost cod mw2 #simon ghost #cod x reader

[mykneeshurt]

Hi Sweet ,

could I request any length piece you're down to do with Alex Keller x plus size f!reader (if body description isn't something you do you can leave it out).

I was thinking in the older brother's best friend trope, reader is probably mid 20's with Alex being early 30's. Throw in a dash of them balls deep in tension and a sprinkle of jealousy to get the feelings & devils tango rolling if you would kindly please?

Like they meet when readers brother comes home from being stationed with a new friend in tow.

Hear me out please, this man Alex Keller is a munch, if you're down to add that (please).

If you write this, if doesn't have to be any time soon and please change it as much as you want or are inspired to 🖤 thank you!

Hellooooo! Thank you for your request ❤️

I’ve tried to allude to a plus size reader, but I’m awful as describing plus size even though I am myself lmao so I hope it’s ok!

I used so many prompts from @glitterypirateduck Alex Keller list lmao

Prompts used - don’t look at me like that

I don’t care what they say

Is this what you wanted

Leave it on

Alex Keller x F! Plus size reader

Summer BBQ

Alex Keller. Your brothers oldest friend. Pain in the ass ever since you met him all those years ago. It was your 26th birthday and of course your brother had to invite him to the BBQ. He was older than you by a few years but that absolutely did not stop him from winding you up every opportunity he got.

He’d come over to help set up, put up balloons, banners, buntings, help with the food prep and of course help your dad with the BBQ. You’d never understand mans fascination with fire. Simple creatures.

You were busy preparing cocktails to put in the drink dispenser, humming a song you’d heard on the radio. It was a beautiful day, birds chirped in the trees, there was a gentle breeze and most importantly the sun was shining.

That was until a shadow blocked it, causing you to flash them a disgruntled look. ‘Don’t look at me like that’ Alex laughed, ‘came in to see if you wanted help. Your dad and brother have gone to the store.’

‘Your stupid muscles are in the way of the sun. Move.’ Your relationship with Alex was a strange one, love hate almost. He was handsome, funny and definitely flirty with you, but he was bold and too forward for your liking.

‘I’m not moving’ he smirked, crossing his arms which made his muscles only bulge further. ‘You’re being annoying’ you stated, keeping your focus on slicing fruit. ‘And you’re being so cute right now’ he cooed.

‘Ew Alex!’ You laughed, finally losing your tough exterior. ‘If you wanna help get the ice out of the freezer and put it in there’ you pointed to the glass drink dispenser.

He nodded and did as he was told, you made light conversation as you both worked. Filling each other in on how’d you’d been, what you’d been doing and of course your dating life. ‘Well I am seeing someone, he’s coming today so you’ll get to meet him’ you said cheerfully. ‘Hmm, I’ll be the judge of that. Gotta make sure he’s good enough for you’ he said, voice suddenly quite tense.

‘Good enough for me? You’re not my dad’ you laughed. ‘Maybe not, but I gotta make sure they’re good enough for you.’

‘And if they’re not?’ You smirked.

‘I’ll have to set them straight.’

He looked serious, there was no smiling, no joking, his body was tense. ‘Alex Keller, are you flirting or starting a fight? You jealous?’ You teased smacking his arm.

He took a few steps towards you, closing you into the kitchen counter. ‘You wanna see how jealous I really I am?’ His eyes were dark, body towering over yours. ‘What are you doing? Get out the way, we’ve got stuff to do’ You said, losing your breath.

You felt half curious, half … turned on.

‘Mmm I’m not moving’ he muttered, eyes dropping from your eyes to your lips. Slowly he placed his lips on yours, they were soft and gentle. The kiss wasn’t demanding, it felt slow and tender. He pulled back, the darkness still present in his eyes. You stood for a second, trying to figure out what this meant. What would your brother say? Was this wrong?

In what felt like forever you finally cupped his face as you leant in ‘do that again.’ He snaked his hands around your waist pulling you in, pressing your voluptuous body into his. He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against your teeth, your tongue, your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, arching your body into him further.

He lowered his lips to your neck, your collar bone, nipping the skin in intervals. You felt your panties becoming wetter and wetter. Returning to your lips the kiss was now desperate, sloppy, your saliva mixed together as your tongues danced over one another.

Pulling away he led you to the sofa, unable to keep his hands from exploring every part of your body. As you sat down you went to remove your summer dress but he quickly stopped you. ‘No leave it on’ he ordered. He guided you to sit down, spreading your thighs with his hands. An audible groan fell from his lips as his fingertips squeezed your thick thighs.

He kissed along your inner thigh whilst squeezing the other. You watched as he looked up at you with his baby blue eyes, pupils blown wide. His lips traced the apex of your thigh as he bit into the soft flesh. You hissed through your teeth as you embedded your fingers in his hair.

He smiled into your pussy, he placed a gentle kiss on your panties before removing them entirely. His breath fanned against your core which was now soaking with your arousal. With one long swipe of his tongue he parted your folds, groaning as he did so. ‘Fuck’ he muttered, ‘taste so much better than I imagined.’

Losing your breath almost instantly you gripped his scalp, ‘you’ve thought about this?’ He hummed into you, languid stokes of his tongue up and down your slit. ‘This what you wanted?’ You panted, losing yourself to him. He hummed again but this time sucking on your clit. Sliding his hands under your thighs he pulled you off the sofa slightly, so you were resting on his shoulders.

He ate your pussy like a man starved, savouring every morsel of you. Devouring your taste, your essence. He sucked, licked, and gently nipped at the sensitive skin. You rolled your hips into him, craving more contact, craving your release. ‘Fuck Alex!’ You whined, breath caught in your throat. ‘That’s right baby, sound so pretty moaning my name.’

You felt your arousal drip from you, this man could eat pussy. His breathed was heavy and laboured as he buried his face in your greedy little cunt. You kept moaning his name, like a mantra, something to focus on. Back arched on the sofa, toes pointed.

As you were coming close to your release you heard a car pull onto the drive. ‘Oh fuck! Fuck!’ You whined, he got to his feet laughing as he handed you your panties. ‘I knew this was a terrible idea’ you panted whilst trying not to laugh, ‘I was so fucking close too.’

Once you slid your panties back into place he placed a swift kiss on your lips. ‘Is this not what you wanted?’ He smirked as he grabbed your ass. ‘Fuck off, go wash your face, the fuck would they say if they caught us?’ you smiled.

‘I don’t care what they’d say’ he shrugged, a serious look on his face, ‘but I’ll tell you one thing.’

‘What?’

‘I will be fucking you later, need to finish what I started.’

#call of duty #alex keller smut #alex keller x reader #alex keller #alex keller x you #mw smut #call of duty 2019 #cod 2019 #cod smut #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic

[gumikpxp]

Never Gonna Happen - C.BG

Rocker AU

pairing: Radiohost!Gyu x (f)Rocker!Reader

Warning: Cursing, Bad Humor, Teasing, Slight bullying.

Synopsis: She's your modern day hannah montana. a goody too shoes to everyone who knows her, the perfect golden girl during the day. but when she's alone she's anything but allowing herself to let go of her perfect reputation. Then theirs beomgyu who's proudly part of the band txt and radio host of the schools most popular station. He hates her, but shes utterly enamored by him.

Chapter 2. interview?

Beomgyu dropped his bag on the cafeteria floor taking a seat off at the table with a huff.

"remind me what we are doing in here again?" Beomgyu spoke glaring at yeonjun who was currently filtering with a group of girls only a few feet away from them, even having the audacity to sign one of their phone cases. "And why is he always doing that?"

"Kai was hungry and they had pizza today. and Yeonjun just like to get his ego stroked." Taehyun answered as he looked over his math work. Kai hummed as he took a bite out of the abnormally large slice of pizza he was served and soobin was seemingly stared off in space in somewhat of a deep thought.

"so Gyu i was thinking for toxdo, we should try something new, our listeners are pretty good right now but a good way to bring in more audience is to talk about the new buzz." Soobin told him and beomgyu nodded.

Most ideas for the show went through beomgyu cause even though Soobin was the leader of the band, Beomgyu was in charge of organizing and being the main host for their show. Usually accompanied by only one or at most two of his members on the show depending on the day and everyone's schedule.

"okay.. what's the new buzz?" Beomgyu asked since he has been practically a zombie all day ignoring everyone around him.

"The Love Abusers, ever since the night at the club they're all people have been talking about. They're new and no one knows a thing about them. Not to mention no one has seen a single one of the members before and that's pretty rare. Our town isn't the biggest." Soobin spoke as he opened up their notebook for the show that had a list of ideas none of them quite hitting the spot in what they felt was needed.

"Wouldn't that make them out competition? why would we give them yet another platform?" Beomgyu asked not quite trashing the idea only questioning it.

"Not everything's a competition Gyu, remember we make music and host a show cause we like it and it's fun, not to be the best." Kai said wiping some of the marina sauce he got on his mouth with his sleeve.

"Kai gross you have a napkin." Taehyun grimaced. "Soobin what if they don't want an interview? i mean they did stay hidden for a reason. what makes you think they want to be known now of all times?" Taehyun added to the conversation and soobin seemed to be stumped with the question crossing the idea off of the paper.

"Because they finally performed. They brought the light on themselves when they went to the club and introduced their band to the world. Plus it never hurts to ask. I like the idea soob." Yeonjun commented the second he joined the conversation. How he heard it? their not sure but none of the boys would ever understand how yeonjun does half the stuff he does.

"Fine, we can ask. only because i am fully stumped and i really really didn't want to go with kai introducing all his plushies to the world." Beomgyu sighs in acceptance however it left kai a bit heartbroken as yeonjun comforted the youngest.

The boys entered the club that thursday on a mission. Everyone in the club was surprised to see them as they never came to the club when they didn't have a performance planned.

"Soobin! boys? what are you guys doing here?" Jisoo asked and soobin smiled at the owner of the club bashfully.

"Hey Jisoo, nothing much we just had no plans today thought we'd come and see the performance today. See what else the new group has up their sleeves." Soobin said and Jisoo rolled her eyes and the boys.

"so you staking the out the competition?" she asked.

"Told you they were our comp." Gyu mumbled and taehyun elbowed his ribs in response earning curses from the long haired boy.

"Well sorry to break it to you but your usual Table is taken by Kat and her group." Jisoo smiled motioning towards the table the boys were all confused until the noticed the familiar girl band sitting in their seats.

"This is really starting to feel like a competition." Yeonjun mumbled.

"Not really we can't expect the table to be free when we are expected to show up." Soobin told them and Jisoo nodded leaded the boys over to a booth a few tables away from the girls.

"Alright we'll get comfortable i gotta go introduce the group." Jisoo said as a waiter came up to the boys placing a tray with their usual drinks in the table.

"Alright everyone! It's the hour you've all been waiting for! They seem to have stolen the hearts of many and it's only their second show here at the bar. Let's welcome to the stage.. The Love Abusers!!."

The club erupted in cheers surprising the boys as the girls all left their booth and got to the stage situating theirselves with the instruments. However it seemed the lead singer ignored her guitar and situated herself behind a keyboard as their bassist grabbed the guitar.

"Hey guys.. it's great to be back, how's everyone night going?" the lead singer spoke again earning another cheer.

Beomgyu cleared his throat hearing the girls voice yet again. He definitely hates that feeling.

"It's been three full days since we performed and Cas here seems to have gotten herself in some relationship drama." The girl spoke looking over to their bassist as she rolled her eyes and approached her mic.

"Oh please Kat, you can't say it's all that surprising." Cas spoke ranting hollers from the crowd as it was their first time hearing her voice.

"Definitely not, you see guys Cas isn't much of a saint... and because of that i've written just the song for her." Kat spoke as the drums picked up behind her and Cas started strumming.

"I've been a bad bad girl..." Kat started her eyes drifting to the boys of txt as she smirked. The crowd cheered at the beginning of the song.

"I've been careless with a delicate maaann..." her eyes left the group and they all looked at eachother.

"that's a dirty trick." Yeonjun huffed slouching in his seat not strong enough to admit that he liked the song.

Beomgyu took in the melody of the song. He sighed as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that the song was written in about 3 days and already sounds this good.

"Well they have talent. Where have the been hiding?" Taehyun asked and they all shrugged.

"i guess we know what to ask when we interview them." Beomgyu said and they all looked at him.

"oh so now you're very into the idea of interviewing them." Kai mumbled as he drank his limonade.

Beomgyu shrugged. "They're interesting."

"He's definitely got a boner for the lead singer." Yeonjun scoffed.

"shut up!" Beomgyu groaned throwing a salt packet at the older.

"What i need is a good defense, cause i'm feeling like a criminal, and i need to be redeemed to the the one i sinned against because he's all i ever knew of love..." She finished the lyrics off as the song began closing.

the crowd erupted in cheers and they chuckled as cas spoke in the mic. "Look at us gaining popularity off of my commitment issues." Cas joked and the drummer laughed.

"Never tell Kat she can write a song about your love life because she'll drag you through the dirt." The drummer spoke.

"Awe JJ you know that's not true... okay maybe a bit." Kat smiled as the audience listened to their batter on stage.

"Speaking of JJ, didn't she write one for you too?" Cas asked and Kat put her hand in her hands.

"hm.. you know what your right she did, care to share it with the class Kat?" JJ asked with a smile and Kat nodded leaving the keyboard taking her guitar from Cas as Cas went to her Bass.

"my love i missed you." Kat spoke kissing her guitar.

"if that's not beomgyu i don't know what is." Taehyun teased and beomgyu rolled his eyes.



She sighed and began strumming. "Everyone this is Bite me." JJ announced.

"Don't act so innocent this was no accident, You planned this in the end and now it's over.."

"they seem so natural.." Soobin mumbled confused since they were suppose to be rookies.

"definitely they're very comfortable on the stage."

"Beomgyu ask!" Kai mumbled and he shook his head.

"What? me no it was soobin a idea!"

"Oh jeez move you losers..." Yeonjun mumbled. "Hey! Love Abusers... Come here!" Yeonjun waved the girls over and they smiled walking over.

"If it isn't TXT.. coming to see our set? how nice." Cas smiled at the boys.

"Ah so you know us?" Yeonjun smirked at the girl and she scoffed.

"It's not a very big town." She told him and taehyun nodded at that.

"And yet you guys stayed hidden quite well, you're very comfortable on stage you know that?" Taehyun said to the girls and they looked at him.

"we have a very nice garage." JJ retorted crossing her arms feeling a bit hostility from the shorter.

"We'd like to interview you guys, for our Radio show it's called toxdo have you heard of it?" Beomgyu asked wanting to end the conversation his eyes glancing towards kat who off stage seemed a bit timid and was the smallest of her group.

"like we said, small town word gets around. We've heard of it." JJ smiled and beomgyu nodded.

"Are you interested than?"

the girls looked at kat and she nodded.

"Sure, here's my number i'll text you later tonight about it, it's tomorrow right?" JJ asked giving her number to beomgyu and he nodded.

a ringing went through all their ears and Kats eyes widen checking her phone.

"We've gotta go. Like now." Kat said and the girls nodded.

"See you guys tomorrow!" The girls waved as they rushed out the club.

the boys looked at each other from the odd exchanged but shrugged. They got the interview.

songs of the chapter.

Criminal- Fiona Apple

Bite Me- Avril Lavigne

#txt soobin #txt fanfic #txt heuningkai #txt yeonjun #txt angst #txt #txt smut #txt fluff #txt taehyun #txt beomgyu

[thenightling]

*SPOILERS!* My review of The Witcher season 3 (first half) with mid-season finale spoilers

In general I actually loved The Witcher season 3 so far.

I like how the writers more or less fixed the harm to the character dynamic they caused with Yennefer's behavior in Season 2. I absolutely love the new music by Percival Schuttenbach. It really sets the mood. They should have called upon that Polish band that did the video game music sooner. They really know what they're doing. I love that they no longer tiptoed around Jaskier's sexuality and allowed him to have a romance (even if his lover probably should not be trusted.) I'm dreading the conclusion of the season (to be released July 29th) because I have a bad feeling Geralt might be replaced with an alternate universe version of himself to explain the change in actors. I don't like that. I imagine it going like "Well, since I'm stuck here, I might as well protect you, other Ciri." I hope I'm wrong. Having an alternate universe version of Quin take over the lead role in Sliders helped kill that series. I'd rather something happen to Geralt where his soul ends up in a new body or he's badly disfigured so a new body has to be made for him somehow. That I'd be okay with. I wish they wouldn't bother with an in-show explanation for the change of actors. A glamour spell was the explanation for the change in Robin Hood actor in Once Upon a Time and it was completely unnecessary. The change had happened years earlier. It didn't need a season 4 explanation. Anyway, most of The Witcher Season 3 has been excellent. The four main characters of Geralt of Rivia (the Witcher), Yennefer (The sorceress), Ciri (Geralt's adopted daughter), and Jaskier (The bard freedom fighter) have all had their chances to shine. My only disappointment really is the mid-season finale. There's a song sung at a ball. The performer is Valdo Marx, a rival bard to Jaskier. The song is catchy and bears a striking resemblance (in it's refrain and rhythm) to Queen's Radio Gaga. I heard the song out of context before I saw the episode and liked it but... The episode kind of ruined it for me. I read articles where people behind the scenes compared the episode to The Red Wedding from Game of Thrones so I expected a coup and some major character deaths. No. Instead I got a fifteen minute story played over, and over, and over again. Each time more details or hidden agendas revealed. And it would have been clever if the schemes weren't so obvious. But what made it worse is with each variation of the flashback there was a "Tok, tok, tok" sound (often used in modern video games) followed by The first verse of "All is not as it seems." By the time the episode was over I felt that I might hate the song. Imagine if Disney's Frozen replayed the crescendo of Let it Go thirteen times, back to back while other stuff happened in the foreground. That's how it felt. And just as annoying as you might think. "All is not" *clap clap* "as it seems! All is not" *clap clap" "as it seems!" SHUT UP ALREADY! Or at least get to the next verse! I need to use the actual Queen song Radio Gaga as brain bleach. Also I was kind of relieved that the so-called cliffhanger is just someone holding a knife to Geralt's throat. Ooooh, he totally can't get out of that. Oooh. But whose doing it? Does it matter? Pretty much everyone except Ciri, Yennefer, and Jaskier are his enemies. I wish they had just released the whole season all at once. There was really no need to break it up like this. I had also hoped to hear Jaskier's "Ride of The Witcher" in context but that probably won't be until the July season finale. Disclaimer for my Witcher season 3 part 1 review: I actually really like the song Let it go From Frozen. Just not played over and over and over again.

#The Witcher #Witcher

[zeawesomebirdie]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you so much @unmaskedcardinal for the tag!!

How many works do you have on Ao3?

29 total, but I haven't spent the time crossposting my old ff.net fics yet

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

198,683

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Like, actively? Cause uh, I'm the kind of person who needs to finish the fic before I can post it, and so I'm currently in the process of a whole bunch of fics that I haven't yet posted. Those are Gunsmoke (radio version), MASH, Star Wars: Legends + Star Wars: prequels, Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, and the DCU (but more like, specifically the all media types of Batman and Superman specifically)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Truth/Dare (revalink, college!AU, rated T)

Rainy-day Homework (ganlink, college!AU, rated G)

but when i'm alone on the longest nights, i think of you and your fairy lights (beedlink, mostly canon compliant, rated E)

Missing Memories (revalink, angst, rated T)

An Unexpected Picnic (revalink, pre-Calamity, rated G)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! Recently I haven't been as good about keeping up with them because of my chronic illness stuff, but when I have a good day I try to get them done :) I think it's really fun to connect with people who have similar tastes as I do, and get to discuss headcanons or plot points or what have you!!

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't usually write things that end on angst, I usually aim for hurt/comfort or at least some form of hopeful ending. I've been told that Missing Memories is my angstiest fic, but I think that title is actually held by Pompeii (If You Close Your Eyes) (song fic)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'd say if i were to save you, would you do the same (kylux). It's the whole surviving against all odds and then looking toward the future thing, you know?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not on Ao3, but I have on ff.net. It's been a few years since those days though!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do!! I just don't post it, for reasons related to I haven't finished the fics in question yet lol. I try to write it as a way for the characters to explore each other and connect on a different level beyond the usual grime and gore and horror of the worlds they live in.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

So. I don't have any posted yet oh no I've said this like five times by now ahh, however I have plot bunnies for a MASH/Star Wars: prequels crossover, and I just started plotting out a Gunsmoke/DCU crossover. I think the Gunsmoke/DCU one is crazier exclusively because it's a very tiny fandom for a radio/TV show from the 50's mixed with the whole Batman and Superman fandoms, which. Kind of a large set of fandoms there ngl

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I have no idea. Probably, but I haven't heard about it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I did the 2021 Kylux Big Bang with @viraaja and the 2021 Obikin Big Bang with @skittlles !! I'd love to do more work with others at some point, genuinely wonderful experiences!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Is it a cop out to say I just don't have one? I never really leave a fandom, even once I'm not actively writing for it, I just kind of cycle through them, so I cycle through my ships accordingly. Maybe PruCan (Hetalia), if only because they're my oldest otp??

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Well. Ideally none of them. I have every intention of eventually finishing everything I'm currently writing, hence why I refuse to post them until they're done. That said, I've been sitting on several mostly-finished fics for like three+ years without actively working on them so. We'll see.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told my characterisation is really good, and I try to get as accurate a voice as I can for every character!!!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Repeating phrases and words without intending to. I used that exact word three times in like three paragraphs in a row, why am I like this!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Two thoughts: if you know enough of the language to have proper grammar and etc sure go for it, but also, is it being used with or without translation? If no one else is supposed to understand (besides the reader), I think that's very fun and 10/10, but if the other characters are supposed to understand and it's a lengthy bit, I think there can be other more effective ways to get that across.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Phineas and Ferb, and honestly I regret deleting those fics so so much now! I have no records of my writing from back then, and yes I found them cringe as an older teenager but now I just wish I could go back and tell my 13 year old self how far we've come.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Whatever is most recently finished. Right now that's but when i'm alone on the longest nights, i think of you and your fairy lights :)

No pressure tags:

@viraaja @steine-druff @aeriedwelling @someguywriting @astrophilic-soul and anyone else who wants to join!

#tag game #look at me being on top of the tag game thing !! #thank you so so much for the tag omg <3

[maguro13-2]

Miku.EXE Origin : The Revenge Pt.6 (1/2)

Jeff the Killer : [whistling] Ah, I can't wait to taste a mouth-watering steak when those two daughters of "Him" returns immediately . Can't say that I really wanted that awesome feeling from Doll. He's still with that egghead in his room for all these years since SEGA abandoned him in about 10 years before he became a creepypasta legend to get his revenge on the company. Hmm, haven't seen Slender Man while he's at work, I wonder if I had any calls from the guys? Maybe I best be going by now. (A person's hand pulls Jeff's ears what it appears to be Kuchisake-Onna) Ow! Ow! Ow! Hey that smarts!

Kuchisake-Onna : Didn't you forget someone, loud mouth?

[PigeonBlood OST : Funny-Funny]

Jeff the Killer : Oh, uhh, hey, Kuch'! When did you get here?

Kuchisake-Onna : I just got back from my vacation home in North Carolina, not to mention it, at least. Just wanted to drop by to seem my favorite ghost friend Hachishaku-sama.

Jeff the Killer : Can't a guy get at least have some privacy? I was going to have my favorite paper dolls created for my decorations!

Kuchisake-Onna : Oh? Is that the type you wanted to do things for you? Is it really necessary for you to talk it out? I was just hoping that you didn't look at my stuff using my pair of blood-covered scissors when I got back!

Jeff the Killer : What?! No! I was using my own pair of scissors, yours at the other room. [pulls Jeff's ears twice to cause him pain] Hey! Hey! Okay I didn't touch your stuff, okay! I just wanted to look around in your room to give me a nice pair a scissiors that are the clean ones, not the ones that are covered with blood and it has your name written on it! Please, I just wanted to borrow those pair so that next time I may have permission to use it for a while!

Kuchisake-Onna : Oh, seems fair. Okay, I may let you go off the hook. (Releases Jeff)

[scene flips]

Jeff the Killer : [with ears covered with bandages] Jeez, Kuch! Can't you be a little more aggressive, next time? You almost got my ears ripped off and I may go deaf in an instant. Anyway, what's the haps?

Kuchisake-Onna. : Oh nothing much, I was just listening some public radio about the incident that was spreading the rumors in the USA.

Jeff the Killer : What's so special about that? Didn't know about the incident in Nevada. Believe it or not, it's just those kids from a fictional town called Death City.

Kuchisake-Onna : When I heard that a Japanese girl named Tsugumi Harudori, a Shounen Protag from the Soul Eater franchise, has found a weird mysterious red ring and proclaimed that it could be a source of fortune and power, or probably it could be a use for jewelry. But when she picked it up, she was given these "strange" illusions that totally lost her mind, going nuts to a dangerous level of sanity! So after that her mental state was unable to control herself, she then...

Jeff the Killer : So...So then what?

Kuchisake-Onna : She then...She then decides to end her life of stopping her insanity by jumping off a building and immediately goes...SPLAT! She hit the ground and didn't even bounce. After that, Tsugumi Harudori was never seen again. Thus the Soul Eater franchise has officially met it's downfall. Except for Maka Albarn, the hero of that franchise, has disappeared shortly after calling quits.

[PigeonBloos OST : Night Morning]

Jeff the Killer : I heard about this. Maka Albarn haved hated her own author she reveals that the world of Soul Eater was a great big lie from the "Devil" himself, who he created DWMA leader Shinigami that proclaims to be son of the devil after witch detective Kimial Diehl showed everyone the truth. But all of that crazy stories of yours have starting to make me go hungry for a steak.

Sonic.EXE : Not the only one who got betrayed or abandoned as the "Fallen Idol".

Jeff the Killer : Ah, Mr.EXE! What a pleasant surprise for your return. How was the meeting with your friends?

Sonic.EXE : It was alright. It was one hellish meeting for a day. I had a discourd with the EXE group. So, it's not too borish and we had to discuss our family's terms. So everything's according to plan. We probably knows how this is going to be well, eventually, we heard that the Dry Bones and Mask Enemy, Phanto, has finally reclaimed the land of Nevada from the Devil's son and orders were issued with the Nevada State Government. So what brings this ever mounting crisis in the United States?

Jeff the Killer : I just got this from the daily newspaper in the state capitol Carson City. It looks like you're all slow news, you're about to be jealous from this state's front page. (Shows newspaper to the both of them)

Kuchisake-Onna : [Reading] "Former Hero of Soul World was quickly turned into a ferocious demon made of black blood called Black Beast." Are you telling me that a girl was a traitor to her own people? Like that's old news in 2011 or 2014. Well, this is the 2010s and we need to stay classy in our glory old days of legend. With Soul World manga loosing it's franchise and meeting it's end in total darkness, poor Maka Albarn has given up her life as a hero and became the demon made of black blood itself, Or I prefer the substance Ink in her body.

Jeff the Killer : You got that right. We are done with Soul Eater and never going to talk about it ever again. I'll stick to any other Japanese media franchise and I would highly recommend to the publicity of an otaku fan. Don't mention it that of course.

Kuchisake-Onna : I couldn't agree with you more of reading your silly Japanese comic books.

Sonic.EXE : Since this little conversation is a little over, I wonder how are my daughters doing fine so lately? More importantly, where are those two dear daughters of mine?...

[cuts outside to show the exterior of the Creepypasta House]

*SFX : RUMBLING*

Sonic.EXE : [yelling] ...WHAT DO YOU MEAN "THEY WENT OFF BY THEIR OWN"?!?

"Meanwhile..."

Tails.EXE : Comrade! The enemy knows that we are getting closer to where our next move might be. We commonly set up a barricade to each and one of the locations around the globe. With our strongest defense system we worked on, we can finally manage to capture our lord's faker Exeller the Hedgehog, the mysterious look-alike who seeks in the powers of "God".

Knuckles.EXE : Excellent work, my friend. But what about those two daughters of him? Zatsune and Miku.EXE?

Tails.EXE : I don't know how to put this, but according to the radar, we have confirmed that two of Master's daughters have wandered off into one of locations we barricaded. Zatsune and her sister have wandered off into the defense line, the location they're heading to was the forest!

Knuckles.EXE : What were those two thinking wandering off like that? We've got to warn master about this! But thankfully, rest assure that our dear friend Xeno is working another one from the same data that he traveled through cyberspace. Send in...Kaito.EXE.

~ LET THE WANDERING WILDNESS BEGINS ~

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic.exe #vocaloid #creepypasta #miku hatsune #miku zatsune #jeff the killer #kuchisake onna #sega #crypton future media #crossover #dark comedy #horror #mystery #thriller #supernatural #drama #adventure

[bsnmansblog]

My Naked Neighbor

                The divorce had been ugly. But the marriage had been ugly for years. I was sickened of her voice. The constant droning about things, people, and places I could have cared less about. At first, I tried to hold a conversation. But then, I stopped that and ignored her. This only infuriated her more and caused her to whine on even longer. The words “Shut up,” kept going through my head day after day after day. Then apparently, one day, I vocalized this loudly. She sat there in shock for a few seconds, then the tirade began anew.

 I stood, looked her square in the face and shouted.

“For the love of god, would you please shut up.”  

Then, I turned and walked out the door. It was the last time I was ever there. Later in the week, I loaded my things. She had unceremoniously dumped on the front porch. I could see her peeking out the window. Gathered it all and left. She could have the house, but who would she complain to now? I just knew it would not be me.

                I spent a few nights in a motel while trying to find a place to live. I would be okay money wise. She had her money. I found an exceedingly small house on the edge of town. One bedroom, one bath, kitchen and living room. What else did I need? The backyard was small and lined with privacy fence. Solace would be mine at last. The first week or so, I made no sound whatsoever. No TV, no radio. Only silence while I learned what that was once more. Then only softly, the radio or turntable were used. Records I had not heard in years. (She did not like jazz.)  I could feel myself relaxing and letting go of all the tension and bad feelings that had built up for years. Some of that came back at the divorce proceeding. She let go an endless stream of venom and hate.

 My lawyer whispered to me.

“My god, you poor man. How did you stand it?” 

 Even the judge grew weary of her tirade. He pronounced an amicable split. She had her stuff. I had mine. End of story. It was the last time I saw, (or heard) her.

                It was late summer when I moved into my new digs. I did not have much. I did not need much. Just the blissful quiet. Occasionally, I had a nightmare where she was talking to me. Those were scary. But then I would wake up and realize I was safe. I began a new life. The place needed repairs. The yard had been let go. I had plenty to keep me busy. The privacy fence, complete with gate to the neighboring yard, needed work too. I had time and lots of quiet. The house was the priority. Basic stuff, like painting and filling holes, a bit of electrical work, stuff I could do myself. The house had a back door to the yard. I thought a nice sized patio would be good out here. I knew a guy that owned a concrete service. He came out one evening and gave me a quote. We agreed on a price, and it would happen in a few weeks. I envisioned myself sitting on a patio, bathed in blissful quiet.

                I had neighbors as well. Not introduced me to any or spoken to anyone at all. There was no hurry as far as I was concerned. I spent the remaining days of summer working at my place. The backyard was overgrown and needed cut several times before it looked good. There were many weeds and dead bushes. All that needed to go. It was one of these sessions, I was by the fence. One of the boards was loose. I looked at it, and it was what was on the other side of the fence that caught me off guard. A blond girl, sitting on a white chair next to a white table, total nude. I had not seen anything like this ever. (In real life that is.)  

My ex-wife was somewhat of a prude and would never be naked except for her bath. Yes, not even during sex. Let alone be naked outside. This neighbor girl was exquisite. Just sitting there with a glass of iced tea, soaking up the sun. I gently pushed the board back into place and then went inside to find the tools and materials to fix it. I briefly considered not fixing it. Nope, I am not a pervert. And she is entitled to her privacy. When I got back out there, she had gone in. Just as well. A drill and wood screws, it was good as new.

                If you need to know, yes, I did look now and again to see if she was outside naked. No, I did not see her. Weeks later, the concrete was poured. I would be out on my patio in a few days after that. I was looking forward to it. A couple of patio chairs and a table, my Bluetooth speaker, and some jazz. I was good to go. An ice-cold beer and I was loving it this. I was there with my eyes closed, Miles Davis playing.

“Hey!!  Who are you are listening to too? It sounds cool.”  A female voice from the fence.

 I looked in that direction and could not see anyone.

But I answered.

“It’s Miles Davis, a trumpet player and this is cool jazz.” 

The voice answered.

“Nice, could you turn it up a little so I can hear it?” 

I spoke. “Sure, if you like. Or I could invite you over for a beer and you can listen. My name is Pete, your neighbor.” 

 “Nice to meet you Pete, I am Dru. I will pass on the beer for now.  I like music. Some other day maybe?”   She answered.

Then nothing. Oh well. What did I expect? Who wants to hang with a geriatric dinosaur?

                I went about my days. Working, then coming home to work at the house. I was trying to get as much as possible done. The weekend was to be a scorcher. Three half gallon jars of sun tea would be made. If the yard were cut tonight, I would be in decent shape. The yard did not take long. I sat to cool down. Dru could be heard next door in her yard. No, I did not look to see if she was naked. I told myself she had younger friends and a big boyfriend as well. She is a beautiful girl. I put things away and went in for the night. Well, walking from the shed to the house, I saw her through the fence. Yes, she was naked. Not one tan line on her anywhere that I could see. My eyes went down and scurried inside. Oh Shit!!!  I am a pervert.

                In the ancient days, when I was growing up. Nudity was forbidden. At least that is what my parents always told me. Lord knows they were never naked that I knew of. My ex was like that too. About as much fun as a Popsicle that has been dropped and melting on a muggy day. So, I never bothered. Well, I went in the house and showered.

I thought to myself.        

“What the hell.”              

 I did not bother to dress after. Just dried off and left it at that. Once I got past the “this is bad” feeling. It was okay. I know I am not in the greatest shape. This felt nice and freeing. The real test, I told myself, would I go outside like this. We will see. Rebel that I am, I slept naked that night.

                The morning rolled around and got up to make coffee. Do you know what? I stayed naked. Avoided windows. But stood at the back door and looked at my yard. Then I just sat down in my patio chair to enjoy my coffee and fresh air in places that had not ever had fresh air on them. I am pale. No matter, no one will see me. If they do, they will run screaming. My eyes closed as John Coltrane simmered on the speaker. The espresso in my hand, cool morning and blissful quiet.

The reverie was broken by a voice.

 “Hey Pete. It is Dru. To whom ya listening?”  

I confess I was startled and took a moment to answer.

“John Coltrane, tenor sax”

There was no hesitation in her answer.

 “Great, I’m coming over.”

The gate swung open. There was Dru in a robe and me naked. I was mortified. She strolled right up and took a seat. I was trying to cover up with my hands and coffee cup. Dru did not seem to notice my discomfort.

 “Do not be nervous about being naked. I do it all the time Pete. Its cool.”

Then her robe was removed, and her gorgeous body exposed. Dru was speaking about my music. The only thing on my mind is the quarter sized areola and dime sized nipples on gravity defying breasts Dru had. The fully tanned body, long straight blond hair, and matching bush below. Muscular legs that tapered to small feet and bright red toenails. A coffee cup in her also in her hand, tipped red fingernails. A bit of news. I had a young naked girl in front of me and my body responded. Yup, I was getting hard. If Dru noticed, she said nothing. Eventually, I did relax, and we had a marvelous conversation.

                This was a very startling morning for me. Dru treated me like I am decent guy. We had an intelligent conversation, just naked. Not the kind of thing to which I was accustomed.

Then, Dru jumped up, cast her robe over her shoulder and spoke.             

“I gotta go. Nice talk Pete. Let us do it again soon.”  

Then her naked ass was up and gone. I watched it bounce in fascination all the way to the gate. I resolved at that moment to be always naked. Dru made comfortable for me. It did not hurt that she is beautiful beyond comprehension. I must prepare for my day. As I dressed, clothes now felt cumbersome and unnecessary. I dressed anyway. Then to work. I should investigate a gym nearby. Ha ha.

                Work is what it is. These days, when it is finished for the day, which is where I leave it. Work does not come home with me. Today, when I entered my home, the clothes were left in the hamper. Nothing replaced them on my form. I showered then, toweled, and went to the kitchen to prepare my evening sustenance. All whilst nude. This will be a learning experience, I think. Adjustments to be made and new ways of doing things. I am not too old. Right? My meager fare for the evening consumed. Used dishware and utensils to the dishwasher, counter and table cleansed. All in proper order, I retired to my back patio with beer and Bluetooth speaker. Cool jazz and cold beer prevail. I did hope that Dru would be out as well. But if not? That is okay too.

                Stan Getz and a Latin jazz piece flowed from the speaker. I do like his Latin stuff.

 “Hey Pete! How about that beer now?”  

Before I could say a word, a naked Dru was through the gate and on my patio.

 “Where is the beer? I will get it.” She speaks.

 Dru struts right into my house, finds the fridge, and returns with a beer. Breasts and ass bouncing in step the entire way. Her blond hair and infectious smile as she plopped in a chair. The boobs are making a large bounce.

 Her banter continued.

“How Pete, how was your day? I had a terrible day. Tons of work and all these guys hitting on me. I get tired of these dicks. It is like they have never seen a girl.”

 I sat smiling. A sip of beer and I answered.

“My day was fine Dru. Too bad about the guys hitting on you. That is not very gentlemen like. They should know you have a job to do.” 

Dru sighed and spoke.

 “Yeah, I wish they would. All they see is blond hair, tits, and ass. I have a brain too.”

 My response.

 “Of course, you have a mind Dru. But I do not think that is what they want from you. They want to separate you from your panties.”

 Dru laughed and replied.

 “Well, the jokes on them. I do not wear panties. Except at that time of the month.” 

                I thought to myself, she does not hold anything back.

 Dru went on to say.

“I like this music. Who is it?” 

I made a brief explanation and history of Stan Getz. She was making mental notes.

 “This is great stuff. I will have to download some.”  She added.

 A slow tune cued.

Dru stated.

“Oh, this nice. A slow one to which you can dance. Pete, do you wanna dance with me? I have not slow danced in ages.”

The prospect of a naked Dru slowly dancing in my arms was overwhelming.

 I just said. “Sure Dru”

We both stood and began to sway. Just arms and hands touching. I was dancing with a naked girl. We moved for several bars of music.

Dru spoke.

“Pete, you smell nice.”

 Then she did something unexpected. She leaned into me. Her breasts pressing into my chest. Maintaining self-control was difficult. Then Dru’s head fell against my chest. I decided to accept this for what it was. A slow dance with a beautiful girl. This was not about sex. It was a moment.

Dru added without moving her head.

“You are a smooth dancer, Pete, I like this. Can we just continue for a while?”

 A few more pieces by Stan before we stopped.

 Dru stepped back and spoke.

“Wow Pete, this was great. You are quite the gentleman. I want to dance with you again just like we did. You did not even hit on me. I must go now.” 

 I answered.

 “You are welcome to come over any time Dru. Just come thru the gate.” 

Then Dru reached up and kissed my cheek. She smiled and left my patio. Now was not that something?

                The rest of my week was peaceful. I worked, came home, showered, and spent the rest of my time nude. I do not have the greatest body, but I am not in bad shape either. I investigated the gym two or three times a week. Bulking up was not my goal. Simply better and leaner. Yes, I wanted to look good for Dru. Happy now? I did not see nor speak with her the rest of the week. We all have lives, you know.

Friday arrived and the weekend. I was grateful as it would be a long holiday weekend as well. Four days away from work. Four days to lounge and do as I wish. I had no plans at all. A grocery store before arriving home. I planned decadent meals. Eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, toast and my espresso for breakfast. Espresso was a late discovery for me. Drip coffee machines before this. The taste of espresso made the other taste like sad brown water. No more of that. My espresso choices lean towards Hispanic or Italian grinds. I like robust flavors. I will use a Moka pot. But the other coffee prep items are no longer here. Other meal plans. Steak one afternoon, pork chops another, and burgers another time. It is the pleasant thing concerning my life now. I am free to do as I like.

 My choice for Friday evening was burgers. Prepared on the outside grill. Before you ask, I wore an apron to protect the front of me whilst grilling. Per usual, cool jazz floated in the air of my patio. It was a variety of performers.

“Hey Pete. That smells amazing.”   Dru.

 The gate swung open and the naked Dru flounced into my patio. Her eyes took in the still cooking burgers. Yes, I made several.

I spoke.

“Dru, could I interest you in having dinner with me?” 

 She gave a broad grin and replied.

“Yeah Pete. I would love to. Is there anything with which I can help?” 

Lovely girl.

I answered.

“Yes please. Could I ask you to go inside, slice onion, tomato, and lettuce for burgers. Maybe heat the buns a little.”

 Dru went inside my home like she owned the place. A glance inside showed Dru rummaging about to find the need utensils. Shortly, onions and tomato slices, along with lettuce leaves covered a plate. She also had out the mayonnaise, mustard, and ketchup.

“Hey Pete! Got any red wine?”  Dru shouted.

“Pantry closest.” I answered.

 Burgers were done. I placed them on a plate and went inside.

                Dru opened a bottle of Merlot, my favorite, to breathe. The burgers were left to sit for a moment. We then set the table for our little feast. I admired her lovely breasts and ass as she moved about helping.

“So, Pete. How you like being naked?” she asked.

 “I like it fine. It feels wonderful and so much better without the clothes on.” 

 Dru answered.

“Yeah, me too.” 

 I poured a goblet of deep red wine. One was handed to Dru.

I raised mine to her and spoke.

“Here is to be naked.”

 Clink went the glasses and we both drank. I seated Dru and myself. We feasted on grilled burgers with all the wonderful additions and condiments. Dru informed me she worked as a sale girl in a women’s shop.

 The quip was made that,

“spent all day selling clothes to people she would never wear herself.”

 I spoke of my job as well. A factory position now. Nothing too hard, but not the office job I had earlier in my life. That job was killing me, along with my ex-wife. Dru asked about my ex. I spoke only briefly. Too many unpleasant memories. But I managed to rattle on about my life and loves. Dru took it all in with a nice smile and a little bit of ketchup on her lips.

                “What about you Dru? Tell me about it.”  I inquired.

She leaned back and began.

“Well, first, about being naked. My mom said when I was little, I hated clothes. I cried and screamed when they dressed me. So, to have some quiet in the house, they just let me run naked. As I got older, I wore clothes when I had to. But spent my alone time naked. Mom and Dad never understood this but let me do it because I was careful about it. Been doing it all my life. Got my own place and a job. So, I am naked all the time at home. As you already know. No one special in my life. Most guys just want to fuck a blond with big tits. Which are 36D’s. (Then she giggled which made her tits jiggle.)  I like to read fantasy romances or historical romances for fun. I have only recently learned about cool jazz, thanks to you. I work, I come home and be naked. That is about all Pete.”

                We both finished our respective burgers at this point. I refilled both glasses as we sat at the dinner table and continued to chat. Music, we enjoyed. Books we had read. Places we would like to go someday. The first bottle of wine was finished and a second opened. I cannot speak for Dru, but I was very relaxed at this point.

Dru announces.

“I must tinkle. Where is the bathroom, Pete?” 

I pointed. While Dru was gone, I cleared the table and piled the dishes in the sink. I had no intention of washing them this evening. I took the liberty of refilling Dru’s glass and my own. Both were taken to the living room. Some moments after, Dru returned to take her glass a take a large sip.

“What would like to do Dru?"  I asked politely.

 There was no hesitation.

“Can we watch a romantic movie?”

 I must say, this was not my first choice. But I acquiesced as she was my guest. The tube popped on and a suitable movie ensued. As it happened, it was a fall, spring romance. Older guy, younger girl.

Dru adds.

“Pete, can I sit with you on the sofa? There is too much glare from here.”   

She did not wait for a response but dropped her young body next to me. I could feel the heat. She was that close.

                The movie went on. There were the meetings, some flirting, and the inevitable plot complications where things were not working out and there was a lack of communication. Dru and I finished another bottle of wine too. Then all is well that ends well. Our lovers reunite and stroll into the sunset. Dru was a bit teary at the ending. (I thought it was all kind of dumb.) 

Dru speaks.

 “You know what was wrong with that movie?” 

I shook my head No.

Dru continued.

“They didn’t spend any time being naked.”

 I was curious, so I asked.

“Dru what does being naked have to do with it?” 

She frowned a little and added.

“Well for starters, you do not have to undress. You can go straight to the event.”

 I began to ask what event. I did not have the opportunity. Dru crawled in my lap and kissed me. Pressing those boobs into my chest. It was a long one. When we finally broke, I offered a questioning glance.

Dru had an answer.

“If I did not like you Pete, I would not still be here. You treat me nicely and do not try anything. I like that. Now then, I would like to use your bathroom and then let us go to your bedroom. Can you have jazz music in there?”

 I got another kiss before she was up and moving.

                I turned down the bed and turned on the cool jazz. The lights were diminished. Dru appeared in my bedroom. I asked her what she liked.

Her response.

 “Pete, I want you to do everything that you dreamed about. Then I have my choice too.”

 I eyed Dru. Her chest was heaving as she stood there. Yes, I had seen her naked often. Now it was a different feeling. A small, trimmed strip of hair between her thighs. I wanted to go there first. I took Dru by the hand and helped her to lay back on the bed. My ex had never, ever, for any reason whatsoever, at any time, let me see, play with, explore, let alone touch her pussy with anything other than inserting my cock. And even then, it was always a hurried and short intrusion. It always made me feel warm as fuzzy after sex. The way she pushed me off her to dash into the bathroom to douche a couple of times. I swear, I could hear her retching. Enough of unpleasant memories. Dru reclined. Gently, I pushed her legs apart, just to view her.

                The pink outline of her outer lips, with just a small amount of blond hair. I thought to myself, that will tickle when I lick her. I began by kissing her ankle and working my way up her calf. She had gooseflesh a few times. But her inner thigh was the place that elicited the best reaction thus far. A slight lifting of the hips and slow outward breath. Time for me to move on. Light kisses all around her opening. Heat radiated from her body. Her breath came more quickly than before. Then a gentle and wet tongue around the same trail as the kisses. Once thoroughly licked, a slow breath on her damp flesh. Dru shivered at this. Attention went to her outer lips. Small kisses followed with licks. Dru began to blossom.

She began to make small up and down movements to her hips. The movements were in conjunction with the movements of my lips and tongue. A small trickle of honey issued from inside her. I gently lapped into my mouth to savor her sweetness. Both my thumbs reached to part her gently and exposed the swelling inter lips. more glistening fluid leaked from her. As I had previously done, her inner lips were gently kissed. Then I applied a gentle sucking and drew them into my mouth. My tongue slowly rising and falling between the swelling flesh. Dru’s hands then went to her breasts. She began to massage and to tug her fleshy globes.

Eventually, working towards her nipples, these she began to tweak and roll between her fingers and to pinch firmly. I changed my tactics slightly. Two fingers slowly inserted at the top of her moist slit. I descended slowly, turning my fingers 180 degrees. Once at the bottom, withdraw my fingers, and return to the top in repetition. Dru flowed freely now. This I did for an unspecified time. The motion changed now. Two fingers and palm up. Touching her G spot in fashion of beckoning her to come closer. Dru’s back began to arch, her mouth in wordless opening.

                Dru was very vocal now. Her hands flew out to grasp the sheets. Dru had orgasm. She also squirted fluid on my face. I drank deeply from her. My movements were ceased. I let her come down. The heaving breasts and gasps of air made it difficult for Dru to speak.

 Finally, she spoke.

“OMG Pete. No one has done this to me before. I am so wet. Oh my. You did that with your fingers. That was amazing.”

Just three of the items I had wanted to use on my ex. Dru experienced it and I was pleased with the results.

Dru then asked.

“What’s next?” 

I knew exactly what.

“I want to have your breasts.” I replied.

Dru grinned. “How?”  she asked.

“Trade me places.” I spoke.

                I placed myself on the bed where Dru had just been. She was asked to straddle me and to dangle her breasts over my face. Dru made it playful by occasionally holding them just out of my reach. She relented soon and gave them over to me to suckle and bite carefully. You have no idea how long it has been since I did this. Dru was on my stomach when we began this new activity. She slowly inched her way down my torso. There was the sensation of wetness on me now. Dru was now poised to slide down and around me. The tip of my cock was now coated in her juices. Her breasts were no longer available to me. Blond hair fell around my face and Dru’s lips were inches from mine. Her mouth opened and she plunged her tongue into my mouth. Yet again, I say. It had been so long since my last enthusiastic kiss. Dru made up for the lost time. Then, she slides down me a bit more. Gradually, engulfing my cock into her dripping wet vagina.

Dru speaks.

“My turn to make you feel good.”

Then her mouth returned to mine. Slowly, she undulated on top of me. No frantic or harsh movements. My tongue in her mouth. My cock in her pussy. My hands on her waist.

 “Tell me when you are close Pete. I want to try something with you.”  All I could do was murmur.

 “Yes Dru.”

                This was beyond any hopes or dreams I had. My mouth was full of Dru. Her breasts rubbed and scraped my chest. Her pussy slowly moved on my cock. I would be ready soon as I could feel it building. As Dru instructed, I let her know I was close. She broke our kiss to sit straight up and push my cock into her as far as possible. Dru sat still. The only movements were the walls of her vagina contracting and releasing on me. Oh, a slight sway of her breasts.

 “I’m going to cum Dru.” I told her.

One squirt followed another from me. Dru tightened her vaginal walls to suck every drop I had to offer. It was my turn to gasp for air.

“I’ve always wanted to try that.” Dru spoke.

The air was returning to my system.

 I responded.

“I am so glad that you did Dru. I have not felt anything like that before. Would you please bring those lips down here?”

 She did. It was long and wonderful.

                Post sex lounging in bed. Cuddling, holding, and stroking. The items I never experienced with the evil queen. Dru wanted to know why she was that way. I had no idea. Dru also told me about some of the men in her life. She already said they wanted to fuck a blond with big tits. She was often disappointed they went too fast, no foreplay, some wanted to spank her, and she seldom had orgasm. Dru was tired of this. She wanted a relationship. A caring man that would take time with her. And that liked to be nude without sex always being the thing.

I had to ask.

 “What about an older guy? Is that a problem?” 

Dru laughed to say.

“You Pete are not a problem. Now then, how would you feel about taking me from behind in front of your mirror? I want to watch us.”

                Sex from behind? I could not believe my ears. Dru rolled from bed to place to hands in front of the mirror. Then she leaned forward and spread her legs. Finally, she cast a look in my direction and smiled. I grew harder with each step towards her. Dru was still well lubricated. I went right in. I gripped her hips and began to piston. I could not take my eyes from her ass. The way it rippled with each stroke.

“Look at us.” Dru spoke.

The mirror was of us both. Dru clearly enjoying the feel and the view. Her breasts swinging in circles. Me behind her, pumping away.

“Faster Pete.” she uttered.

“Oh, you feel so good. Right there Pete. You are going to make me cum again.” 

The sound of our slapping flesh fills the room. The squishy sounds from us as I went in and out. Little bubbles of cum and her honey mixed formed on my cock and her pussy. It seemed forever, but I knew it was not. Dru made wordless cries of pleasure. Then suddenly she pushed back against me. The poor girl, her legs shook. Orgasm had her once more.

Then she cried out.

“More Pete, pound me and cum inside.”

 I went twice as fast. It took all my effort. My turn for weak legs. We both stood gasping. Both were wet with the other juices and sweat. I was ready to collapse. Dru and I tottered to the bed and fell. This was more sex in one night than I had in years. I must work on my stamina.

                Dru and I stayed on the bed for about an hour. Then she said that a shower would be good. I arose with her and got her all the things she would need. I closed the door and left her in her shower and solitude. I put on sweatpants and just sat with a broad smile. Ten minutes later, Dru appeared with a towel on her head and another around her body.

“Any wine left?” she asked.

 “Your turn in the shower.” She added.

First the wine for Dru and then me to the shower. The hot water felt magnificent. I dried. I thought about sweatpants, then changed my mind. Naked it was. Dru was perched on the sofa. Towel still on her head. Glass of wine in hand. But naked and seated on a towel. She was a goddess.

“Want some company?” I spoke.

 “Yes, please.” Her reply.

I’ve no idea what was on TV. But I marveled at the clean fresh skin Dru now displayed. Her, leaning against me. Some time passed.

 Dru spoke.

 “I should maybe go home.” 

My heart palpitated a bit.

“Why do you think that?” I asked.

Dru hesitated.

“Well, I thought you would want to be alone. Like you always are.” 

I motioned for Dru to sit in my lap. This she did.

I began.

“Dru, nothing could be further from the truth. We have spent time together. Enjoyed food, wine, and company. You have made me feel love once more. Things I had forgotten. You have given me a gift. A treasured gift. I would be a fool to let you go. Stay with me in my bed tonight and as many nights as you like. You have taken this man’s heart.” 

Dru leaned against me. We were silent.

Later, I whispered.

“Dru, let us go to bed. Stay with me because you want to. Stay with me because I want you here with me.”

 She only nodded yes. I kissed her tenderly. We went to bed and remained together. We spent our free time naked. And when they arrived, our children did likewise.

#coffee #my stories

[babygirlbdubs]

hello, tis i: the one anon who was talking about the vote difference at my time. I heard music!!! So, i will present to you a lot of music from stuff i recently listened (most of them was pitbull cause nostalgia)

Jump in the line - Harry belefonte Fireball - Pitbull ft John Ryan Don't stop the party - Pitbull ft TJR Timber - Pitbull PRESSURE BOMB 3?!?! - Jhariah Candy Says - Anohni Found God in a Tomato - Psychedelic Prn Crumpets Wonderland - Aliceband This Year - the Mountain Goats bedroom community - glass beach hellbound - Dua Saleh Nobody - half alive i hate jurgen leitner (hit pop single) yes this is a remix of someone ranting about their most hated character pump shanty - The Mechanisms NOTHINGS NEW - rio romeo Breezy Slide - Louie Zong & BDG Sirens - The Mechanisms Monkey's Paw - Cami Cat (only on youtube i think) Work Out - Rainbow Kitten Suprise Así de grandes son las ideas - Calle 13 Inarticulation - rio romeo I am... All of Me - Crush 40 ( there are also cool covers of that by Noah McKnight & Penny Parker) Bad Romance - Halestorm (the coolest cover of one of lady gaga's song) Na Na NA - My Chemical Romance Atrevete-Te-Te - Calle 13 A Big Day For Grimley - AJJ Vamos' A Portanis Mal - Calle 13 It's Called: Freefall - Rainbow Kitten Suprise Jackrabbit San Fermin the album, its a beauty

HELLOOOO THAT'S SO MUCH MUSIC YEEESSS

i actually. yeah i know the pitbull songs for sure bc um. that was playing on the radio when i was a teen and we all knew em. there was one time when i had to clean the bathroom and so i put on the radio on my ipod nano and i stg every like. 10 minutes they played timber. i think i could still recite the lyrics. (this is not /neg it's just such a core memory it's so funny to me)

i couldn't find candy says by anohni? found one by the velvet underground but idk if that's the right one, so if u have a link to it i'll add it :]

big vouch for this year by the mountain goats. it's on my playlist for bad days bc it always makes me feel better

HALF ALIVE HALF ALIVE HALF ALIVE HALF ALIVE (goes insane) me, tuna, and laurie all sat in call and did a listening party when the new album came out and cried the whole way through. album very special to me <3

THAT SAN FERMIN ALBUM <33333 the woods makes me insANE

i've added a buuunch of these to the playlist omg tysm aaaaaAAAAA

#spooky.asks #song rec asks #aroaceascension

[bluebeetle]

annoying guy at work keeps targetting me and bothering me about my music when i play it while we are working in the same room. he doesnt do this with anyone else and will even be like “but x will play the radio!!” 

e once again asked me to put the radio on instead of my music, even tho i even made a new playlist that was a mix of CURRENT RADIO HITS that i dont hate--like stuff literally on the top 40 AS WE SPEAK!!!!--oldies hits from the 20th century, and some older pop hits like lady gaga and britney spears. 

literally like limited rock (and again only stuff that actually did well) and like one or two indie stuff (which id purposely queue up for when it was just me and harshal in the room lol) and i even told him like ok one.

 the radio im using is fuzzy on most FM stations anyways and the stations i do know are either gonna be playing the EXACT SAME MUSIC or be all alt. stuff that he didnt like before (Since before he asked me to change it to pop hits)

. and he tried to spin it as oh he doesnt really care he likes all music (But also doesnt listen to music, apparently) and its all about the people in packaging..... the people in packaging who. where literally. singing along. to a lot of the songs!!!! and were clearly really enjoying it!! hell one of the Quality Assurance guys came in to do paperwork when Helena by MCR was on and he started singing that!!

Like. this dude is CONSTANTLY lying to my face but hes SO bad at it and its annoying. its clear he is the one with the issue but he doesnt want to be confrontational but also he NEEDS me to change it so badly.

 I told him that if he wants something--even a goddamn genre or a specific radio station--he can tell me, but just "change it to the radio" is really rude bc it reads as "i would rather listen to anything but this" (even tho again. most of it was. stuff. currently. on. the fucking. radio.) and i was using my spotify bc i dont like listening to ads lol  but whenever i ask him “okay what radio station do you want?” he never has an answer bc again its not about actually listening to something he likes its about making me feel bad and causing me issues over goddamn petty shit.

 AND THEN he was also like, as further justification for why the packaging people clearly did not like my music, was that they were talking about classical music at one point.

which ok 1) what fucking radio station is playing mozart?

2) i can tell you exactly WHY they were talking about mozart. it was bc 99 luftballoons and rock me amadeus came on in my playlist (They were both hits in canada/the us and ive heard BOTH on the radio in german here btw). yknow. as in. amadeus mozart? and the connection was mostly bc one of the packaging guys knew a lil german bc he had wanted to learn to play mozarts music. but yknow i actually listen to people when they talk unlike this dude 

and its just *grabs him by the neck* shut the fuck up and listen to my music, boy

#txt #annoying dude(tm)

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Night We Met ~ P.P (2)

A/n: The second and final part! Hope you like, I added the tiniest bit of fluff right at the end because I’ma fucking SUCKER and struggle to not make things have at least semi happy endings lmao. Don’t know if I mentioned, but the song is “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron

WARNINGS: guilt, death (mentioned), PTSD from gwen’s death, violence, not really a happy ending tbh hella bittersweet

Word Count: 6100+

MASTERLIST

When the night was full of terrors and your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet. Oh, take me back to the night we met.

“Hey, Peter.”

When he looked over, responding to the light greeting, he didn’t know who exactly he expected. He did not expect it to be one of Y/n’s friends though. They all hated Peter, and had only recently stopped glaring at him in the hallway. This person, who’s name he couldn’t remember because he had never spent much time with any of them, had been the one to give him the leats amount of shit, but all of them had avoided him at the ver least. They didn’t talk to him unless they wanted to cause a problem, and this person didn’t seem angry or anything like that. They seemed like they were actually trying to be extra nice, extra gentle. Maybe hiding something, or because they were anxious?

“Hi,” he answered slowly, unsure.

They smiled. “I’m Miley - I don’t know if you remember me?”

Ah, yes, he recalled. He remembered Y/n mentioning her the most. She was the nicest, the most gentle. Y/n’s best friend. “Enough, yeah. What’s up?”

The girl white knuckled the books she had in her grip, arms crossed over them as she pressed them tightly to her chest. “I don’t mean to bother you, I just have asked everyone else I can think of and I don’t know who else to turn to.”

What? “Uh… are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Miley dismissed. “I was actually wondering if you’d seen Y/n around? If they had come to you about anything… They had been talking about trying to talk to you, to try and get answers or just tell you that they’d forgiven you for everything that had happened. Apparently they ran into Spider-Man and had some kind of talk, after-” She suddenly cut off, swallowing thickly.

“After?” Peter pressed.

Miley looked up at him with wide, worried eyes. “Some guy tried to jump them. Spider-Man saved them. They came to my room to talk to me about it, really emotional and stuff. But then they insisted on going home, even though we had stayed up quite late. And I was tired, I didn’t think about it-”

Peter’s heart picked up. “What are you saying, Miley?”

She swallowed. “I went back to their dorm after they missed school yesterday. They weren’t there. They didn’t show up for work yesterday either. I spent the night - they didn’t come back. They didn’t come to school today either. The others are all away until this weekend, but I texted them and they haven't heard anything weird about Y/n. I was hoping they might have gone to your place and just… gotten caught up or something.”

Ah, she’d thought they’d had sex.

Had hoped.

Because if Y/n wasn’t with him…

“Have you gone to the police yet?”

“I’m going after school today. I don’t know if they can do much though - there’s not much to go off of. They’re just missing without a trace. I… I don’t know. I wish I could just talk to Spider-Man, you know? Ask what he told them. What got through to them so much.”

The irony of such a wish, as she spoke to Peter right now. “I know what you mean. Go to the cops, they’ll do what they can. Spider-Man usually has a knack with picking up on what they’re doing if it's really important. Maybe he’ll hear. Maybe he has an in, or a police radio or something.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. Then she smiled at him. “Thank you, Peter.” He nodded and she turned away, heading to class. They only had one left in the day. He had been her last resort.

He wasn’t going to be waiting for the end of the day.

He left school, returning to his own room to change before swinging over to Y/n’s room. The windows were easy to wedge open as long as they were unlocked, and he knew for a fact that Y/n kept their window unlocked. They still did, which he was glad for as he eased himself through and into the room. He had to work fast. There weren't many good, working cameras on campus but if someone heard him in here he’d be caught. He wanted to get this done before class ended in an hour.

Which meant he had a good amount of time, but not forever.

Unfortunately, whatever he thought he would be able to find in that hour, he had been wrong. Miley had been right - there wasn’t anything odd or out of place. There didn’t seem to be a sign or a note or anything. It was like her room was waiting for her to come home any minute. He felt almost like Y/n would walk through the door and jump out of their skin when they saw Spider-man in their room and the window open in the background.

He didn’t move around a lot of things, not wanting it to seem like their place had been ransacked. He didn’t want to put evidence there that hadn’t been there. It wouldn’t help the investigation. Also, there was a part of him that wanted it to be all for nothing. That wanted Y/n to come home any minute, and for everything to be where they had left it. So they could unwind and relax and not have to worry about anything else.

When he heard kids in the hall, Peter sighed to himself before turning to the window again to leave.

That was when he saw it. It was a single letter, carved into the wood of the window sill. On the inside, where it had been blocked before when it had been closed. It looked fresh - which meant it hadn’t been put in by Y/n after Peter had stopped coming over. He knew for a fact that it hadn’t been here then - he would have noticed it. It was pretty large, the length of his entire pinky finger. Thin, but tall, and very familiar.

It was an F, with the place that connected the line downward to the top line across curved. He had seen it a hundred times on the Fisk Industries building.

Peter tried not to jump to conclusions. Y/n had never had anything that would have interested Fisk. They were far from any kind of felonies. They weren’t rich, they didn’t have any kind of connections. He tried to wrack his brain, and it just didn’t make sense. He even bit his lip before tip toeing very softly around the room, keeping an eye out this time for anything that connect Y/n to Fisk. There was nothing,

Well, that was until he ran his hand under Y/n’s pillow. There was a paper there. He had been looking for hidden letters or a diary or something, and instead pulled out a single piece of paper with two words on it.

For Spider-Man.

It could have easily been dismissed as a fan letter that Y/n had started. There was no other papers attached to it, and nothing else on the back. Just those two words. In fact, if he hadn’t seen the carving on the window sill he wouldn’t have even put together that the writing was one hundred percent one he had seen on every single one of William Fisks’ documents. It was his hand exactly, looping the letters exactly how Peter had seen the man’s signature done a hundred, if not a thousand or even a million, times.

He had absolutely no idea why, but Y/n had a note that Fisk had signed to Spider-Man. It wasn’t much, but it was a lead.

Peter checked all of Fisk’s known hiding place, and then checked all of the places Fisk Industries had touched. It took him half the day but he finally got a call from his friend in the police force - Officer Yuri Watanabe. She gave him a head’s up on a missing person’s case they’d just recieved, with all of the information he had dug up as well. The note, and nothing else. They did miss the carving ont he window sill, but he wasn’t surprised. If they didn’t open it - and there was no reason for anyone other than himself to - they wouldn’t have. They didn’t pin the handwriting, but assumed what he thought they would - that it was a fan letter. She thought he’d want to know that this fan of his was writing him a letter.

He knew better.

Yuri was able to help him a little bit though. They had questioned a few people and someone had said that they had seen Y/n the night they had gone missing. Someone had been with them, walking through the building and into their room. The person had dismissed it, even though they hadn’t recognized the person with Y/n, because they had been talking about Spider-Man. They had assumed Y/n had found a fellow fan or something.

Y/n’s friends seemed to think that made sense. They were apparently a huge fan of Spider-Man and talked about him often. When they annoyed their friends, they’d find other people who wanted to talk about him instead. They had even called into Jameson’s podcast to have a debate with him about Spider-Man and had done so well that they’d been hung up on because Jameson didn’t have any arguments for them and they were making him look bad.

How Peter had missed all of this, he had no idea, but it touched him deeply.

“I don’t know, they seem to have a lot of love for you. I know a lot of people have… stopped showing it if they do. I thought you’d want to know.”

Peter nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “I did. Thank you, Yuri.”

“Of course. If you get any info you’ll call me, right? You haven’t been doing that recently and honestly - I didn’t even think you’d answer my call.” He could hear the edge to her voice. The worry, too. Even she could tell he had been struggling. Wonderful.

“I will.” He hesitated, landing on a roof across the next Fisk building he was going to check. “I found a carving on the window sill. Before you yell at me, yes I did get in there before you and look around and yes I already did know. I’ve been following a lead all day. There was a carved letter f in the window sill. It looks like the Fisk Industry f, and the handwriting on the notes matches the man himself. I don’t know if Y/n stole the letter, or if it was left behind for me, but somehow Fisk is connected to this. Have you seen any movement from him recently?”

Yuri took a beat. He heard her release a breath, and he realized that it was one of relief. “I can look into that. Give me a minute and I’ll call you back.”

“Yeah okay.” He ended the call and then checked that his phone was on silent. He always kept it on silent, but if he knew for a fact he was going to get a call then he definitely did not want it to be an opportunity for his cover to be blown.

It was easy to get into the building and then check around through the vents. It was something he had done a dozen times today, and a hundred times before that. Unfortunately, in this building, there was a room the vents didn’t lead into. At least, not vents he could find or fit into. Which means he had to check from any vantage point he could - from the outside. When he saw that the very same room that had only one entrance was also guarded by six very large men, he knew that something very important was going on in there. Even if it didn’t have to do with Y/n, there was no way that Fisk needed that many men for anything other than keeping Spider-Man out specifically. Which meant it was something he needed to stop.

It was a slow but easy process. Lure one of the guys away from the door, into the hall where no one could see them. Web the guy and pull him into the vent or rafter, web him up so he couldn’t make a sound but could still breathe, move on. It was reminiscent of the way he used to be. Recently he had been very aggressive and hadn’t done much sneaking. This… was nice.

Unfortunately, the quickly disappearing numbers had alerted the guards that someone was here. One of the guys said something into a  walkie talkie, and Peter hadn’t been able to stop him in time.

Fisk knew he was here.

He didn’t exactly know where he was though, so Peter tried to use that to his advantage.

When the last guys were dealt with, he dropped own in front of the door and pressed his ear against the wood. He strained his ear, but either the room was sound proofed or this door was just very thick - he couldn’t make much out other than what sounded like maybe one, maybe two voices. Maybe someone on the phone. One of them sounded a lot like Fisk, but Peter was surprised by that. If there was a second voice, it was even more muffled. The person could be gagged, or on a phone, or just talking a lot quieter. Peter sighed. He’d just have to get in there. He couldn’t tell where the people were, or what the layout of the room was. He’d just have to blast in there and act fast and then hope it worked out for him.

So that’s what he did.

The doors banged open, lighter than he thought they’d be. To be fair, his adrenaline was high and he wasn’t controlling his strength as much as he probably should have been. When they hit the wall, he was pretty sure they didn’t move again because the knobs imbedded into the walls. He didn’t have time to check though - he needed to pay very close attention to what was going on.

The room was empty. Well, almost. In the very center stood Fisk, facing the door, gun in hand. The barrel was pressed to the back of the head of someone in front of him, who sat on a chair - tied up and blind folded. Not gagged like he had thought, but looking rough around the edges. Like they had been hit a few times maybe, or just been treated roughly. The clothes they wore and the way their head sagged forward didn’t allow him to see much.

He could, however, tell it was Y/n.

Peter froze, unprepared for such a set up. He had nothing to throw at Fisk, and wouldn’t be able to web Y/n away before Fisk pulled the trigger. All Peter could do was glare at the large man. Not that Fisk could see that.

Despite not being able to see Peter’s reaction to the situation, a smile grew on Fisk’s face like he knew exactly what situation he had put Peter in. “Hello, Spider-Man. Why don’t we have a little chat?”

I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you…

Peter couldn’t breathe.

He had tried very, VERY hard to keep Y/n away from any kind of situation like this. He had tried to keep himself from going through this again too. Because now, all he could see was Harry and Gwen, and he was having a hard time focusing on what Fisk was saying.

“I’m so glad you found my little bread crumbs. I wasn’t quite sure if you’d be able. We don’t know exactly how smart you are, you see. How observant, or if you’d have even been able to get in the room. I thought you might out of costume, but if you went in and looked around that way then you wouldn’t have had to take the window, so you would have missed my very important clue.”

Peter took deep breaths. “Why would I be in their room out of costume?”

Fisk shrugs. “You know, I don’t know. I don’t even know if you two know each other, so don’t stress yourself out too much.” Peter tried not to make his relief too obvious. If Fisk had known who Peter was, it would have been a much, much worse situation. “But one of my men a while back ran into them, and was thinking of getting some money.” he rolled his eyes. “New guys, am I right? Good thing for me though, because he tells me that you got very protective of this one. Almost killed him for them. Big thing, since you don’t kill.”

Peter shrugged. “I’ve been grumpy recently.”

Fisk’s smile grew. “He banters again!”

Peter kept waiting for an opportune moment. For Fisks’s grip to relax, or for Y/n to move in a way that made it just safe enough. Every time Y/n moved, Fisk followed though, and his grip stayed steely. Peter had thought the talking might distract him, but it only seemed to work in Fisks’ favor. He wasn’t even remotely off focus, and Peter was beginning to stress more and more ever so slowly. “What, missed me?”

That made Fisk snort in amusement. “Actually, I wish I would see less of you. So here’s what I was thinking. I can kill your little friend here, who so obviously means a lot to you - especially after that cute little heart to heart you two had, whether or not you know each other out of the mask - or!” Y/n didn’t react at all to what Fisk had just said and Peter wondered if they were unconscious. “Or, you can turn yourself in. Take the mask off and let me kill you instead. I won’t hurt whoever else you might care about - you’re my problem, and you’ll be nice and handled, so I won’t need to care about your identity. And anyway, once you’re dead I can take it off anyway. So there’s really no point in arguing.”

Peter wasn’t exactly gearing up to fight him, but Fisk being so dismissive and blazé did take it out of him. He tried to think of a way out fo this, his head swimming with how he would just go missing. Or maybe Fisk would tell everyone who he was. He thought of Y/n knowing that the man they loved had died in front of them, and they had been unconscious and helpless. Even worse - that he had died for them. He thought of Otto never seeing his intern again. Jameson - as much of a nuisance as he was when Peter was Spider-Man, losing an employee he had been quite kind to when it mattered. Finding out that employee was someone he had dragged time and time again, misunderstood and betrayed. He wondered if Jameson’s mind would change when Peter was dead, or if he wouldn’t care. He thought of people he hadn’t thought of in a very long time, like Flash Thompson, finding out that the guy he had bullied was his hero. Thought of all of Y/n’s friends, who hated Peter, who might now understand why he had done what he had done. He wondered what Miley would think, finding out she had been talking to Spider-Man when she had told Peter what was going on, and that it had lead to his death.

He thought about Aunt May.

Oh, god.

Hadn’t she been through enough?

Just as Peter was truly beginning to mourn, suddenly Y/n jolted to action. They slipped away from Fisk, rolling to the side and planting their heels where his dick was. Fisk was bent double, dropping the gun in shock as he caught himself from falling to his knees by gripping the chair. The ropes had been cut and Y/n was gripping a piece of glass. They rolled again, grabbing for the gun. Peter panicked and webbed it to the wall. Seeing that was no longer an option, Y/n didn’t miss a beat to turn instead to the chair, ripping it out from under Fisk who fell hard on the ground. They raised the chair high, bringing it down on the very large, very sturdy man they now stood underneath.

Peter was astounded.

He struggled to fight Fisk and he had super strength and agility. He had an ability that allowed for long range attacks and mobility. Even then, he had almost died fighting the man several times. And yet, here was this person without a lick of extra power, going full send with a kick to the balls followed by slamming him with a chair.

They weren’t pulling punches either. It was like they knew what Fisk was capable of, and were trying to knock him unconscious before he could get to his feet and start being a problem. Peter wouldn’t have been surprised if they had known Fisk was a lot more durable than most people were… but still. They hit with a ferocity he had never seen from them. There was anger, but fear too. It clicked that they had been awake the whole time. That even as Fisk stopped moving, Y/n didn’t stop hitting him as hard as they could with the chair. That they were slamming the legs of the chair into his head over and over again.

It hit him like a train to realize they were trying to kill Fisk.

Peter rushed forward, grabbing the top of the chair to try and stop them. “Whoa, whoa whoa.” They looked up at him, and he realized they were crying. “Hey… it’s okay. It’s okay.” He tugged lightly on the chair and their death grip loosened immediately. He threw the bent thing to the side, pulling them into his arms. They broke down, beginning to sob hysterically. “You’re okay, it’s okay. You did so well, Y/n. Thank you. I’m so sorry you had to do that.” He spoke to them gently, his voice coming out strained and airy. He couldn’t catch his breath. “You’re safe now.”

“Are you safe?”

The question took him off guard, and he fell quiet for a few beats. “Yeah,” he finally responded. “I’m safe. We both are.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. Or, tried to. It didn’t move. “We’d be safer if I webbed him up though. Would that be okay?” They nodded, leaning away from him. They turned their back to him, wiping their eyes and composing themself as Peter webbed Fisk up and called Yuri. When he finished the call and turned back around, Y/n was facing him.

“The police are coming?” Peter nodded in answer to their question. “So you have to leave. Since, technically, you’re a vigilante and therefore not the police’s favorite person.”

“They’d have to arrest me, yeah,” Peter confirmed.

Y/n mulled over that for only a few seconds. “Let me come with you.” He went to argue but they interrupted him. “I know they probably need my statement or whatever, but I’m in shock and you’re the closest person I have who feels like. Actually safe and just-” They closed their eyes. “I have friends, but they’re not the same. Even Miley… they don’t get it. They don’t understand what’s going in our world. What you do for us. I’m safer with you, and I really need someone who gets it, who I can also feel safe with.”

Peter pursed his lips. “I’m not safe, Y/n. You were in this situation because of me.” In all his nightmares he had never imagined Y/n would be the one to save the day. If anything, he was safer with them. If not for their fast acting, this situation would have gone very differently. Peter had given up too easily, too muddled to think of anything other than the fact that Y/n was in danger. How could they have gone through all of that and still want to be around him?

Then again, Gwen had made the same decision, hadn’t she?

Y/n moved closer to Peter, just a few steps. “I… You’re not dangerous. You’re a hero. You’re my hero. You’re amazing.” They crossed their arms over their chest. “You have dangerous enemies, because you actively put yourself in harm’s way for the benefit of everyone else. I couldn’t have done what I just did without you. I just did what you always do. You… deserve to know that you’re good, Spider-Man. You’re safe. You’re wonderful.”

Peter felt torn.

His decision was made when he heard the sirens. Knowing they’d be up here soon and he was out fo time, he didn’t have time to think. He only had time to feel. And he knew what he wanted, if he put all logic aside.

“Okay, but we have to go out the window. Hold on tight, alright?” They nodded, moving around to grip his back. For good measure, he webbed the palms of their hands to the front of his suit. He had some solvent in his pocket - he would unstick them later. For now, they were much safer this way. Then he waited for them to wrap their legs around his waist before he moved to grab the chair and move out of the room, to the lobby where there was a window. He threw the chair through the window to break it, preventing any glass from having to fall near Y/n if he had just jumped out like he usually did. They wouldn’t have been protected by his suit like he was.

Yuri entered with her force as Peter was readying himself to jump out the window.

“What the hell?”

Y/n and Peter looked over. Y/n giggled in Peter’s ear and, despite himself, he found himself unable to fight just the smallest of smiles as well. “I’ll come and give my statement later - I promise!” Then Peter took off running, jumping out the window.

Take me back to the night we met.

Y/n screamed behind him, voice almost lost in the wind as they hooted and hollered. He was thrilled to realize it was shouts of joy instead of fear. They pressed their head into his neck as he reached out to shoot a web, preparing for the jolt as they transitioned from falling to swinging. Fortunately, it was a lot smoother than they were predicting so there really wasn’t a jolt at all. He was impressed they thought of that though, and took that precaution.

Swinging with someone else was a little weird, but also amazing. He could share the things he loved about being up here with someone else. Show the sights, and feel the feelings. The entire time, with Y/n pressed into his back enjoying every single second of it.

He instinctively took them to the top of the Empire State Building. It had always been his favorite place, and he had spent a lot of time there recently. So when he pulled to a stop, Y/n at his side, it was almost routine to plop down on the edge and take in the view.

What was not routine was having Y/n sit down right next to him, as if this was just another Monday. They had one leg over their edge, unlike Peter’s two legs, and a smile on their face. “God, that’s fucking amazing, isn’t it?”

Peter smiled, closing his eyes. The heaviness and darkness that he had been feeling had faded. The hole that had been in his existence, where Y/n had been, was filled again. And maybe he was still a little hopped up on the adrenaline of the previous situation and how he thought he was going to die but is now alive. Maybe that had something to do with it too. “Yeah, it is.”

They were quiet for a while. The usual city noises of New York had gone very quiet from this height, muted into background white noise. The lights were nice, but not overwhelming. It all looked lighter and easier up here. It felt that way too.He could take a breath, relax. Let his muscles untense, and his mind clear. He leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky. It was sunset now, and from where he was sitting he could see the whole sky as it light up and exploded with color from every direction.

After a long time of just enjoying the moment to collect their thoughts, and letting all the feeling sink in and all of the shock wear off, Y/n finally spoke again. They spoke first on purpose - Peter waited for them to initiate when they were ready, in case they needed to cry again.

They didn’t cry. They just whispered, very quietly and weakly, “Thank you.”

“I really didn’t do anything other than show up,” he reminded them gently.

Y/n nodded. “Not everyone does.” They looked up at him. “But that’s not what I meant. I meant, about stopping me. Thank you. I would have killed him, if I could have.”

Peter nodded. He had noticed. “Call us even. You stopped me a few days ago.”

That seemed to be acceptable for Y/n. They turned to look at the city, crossing their arms and leaning against their knee - the one they had propped up - to overlook the city. “Is it always like that? Fighting bad guys, I mean.”

He shrugged. “Honestly I don’t know what it was like for you. I think fighting is different for everyone, and you were untrained and in a very stressful situation. A lot of luck went into that. And some planning too. It was equally both actually, which is usually not the case in most fights. After a while you get the vibes of each person you go up against. You don’t need luck as much - you can plan for a lot more; people are predictable like that.”

“I see.” They seemed eased by that answer, and Peter wondered if they had been worried about him again.

God, he hated this. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to do. This interaction didn’t feel fair. Y/n looked up to him, after he hurt them and lied to them. But if he told them, he might ruin the image of him they had. Would that be a terrible thing to do? Should he be honest or should he let them dream?

It just felt… wrong. To lie. To let them keep looking up to him and admiring him. Worrying about him. Thanking him. He had done wrong to them. They deserved to know who they were having this moment with.

Peter sighed. “I have to tell you something.” They looked over as he reached up, yanking off his mask. Their eyes went wide and they froze. “Um. So. Yeah. Hi.” He swallowed, feeling the safety he had been feeling a moment ago slip away. The first person who had known since Gwen… since her father…

Fuck.

To his surprise, Y/n smiled. “Of course. The two men I love most in the whole world are one and the same. It’s only right.” They reached up, going to stroke his face.

He leaned away from the touch. “Y/n, I hurt you.”

“You did,” Y/n agreed. Their hand dropped and they sighed. “But you did it to protect me. And realizing that - and that all this time, all the missed study sessions were you being a hero? That just makes me love you even more.” They flinched and then looked away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

This time, he couldn’t stop himself. “I love you too.” They looked back at him in a mix of surprise, but also like they had almost been expecting him to say that. Like they had known how he felt, but didn’t expect him to know it too. And, honestly, that tracked. “How are you taking all of this in stride?”

Y/n smiled a little, eyes drifting to look back at the city. “Honestly, it makes so much sense. It just made me… get it. Like I finally had the piece of the puzzle that I was missing. That, maybe I knew, but I didn’t really know. Like I knew it subconsciously. That’s why I didn’t mind when you kissed me, or when it was so easy to be honest and intimate with you. How I felt that I loved you, from the very second you saved me in that alleyway and stopped when I touched you like that’s all you needed to make all that aggression and rage melt away. Like I soothed you. And… you soothed me too. It makes sense now why I wanted to be around you more than anyone else. It’s been you, Peter. For so long.”

Peter looked at his hands in his lap. “This is such a mess.”

Y/n actually laughed at that. “Yeah, it really is.”

It was quiet for a while again. “So what now?” He asked.

Once again, Y/n sighed, this time letting the air come out long and slow through their nose.”Are you going to put your hero complex down and let us have any kind of relationship, or…?”

That made Peter think about all of the things that had been kicking the shit out of him recently. He frowned. “I don’t know if I can. I… I haven’t been completely honest about how Gwen died. I couldn’t be.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Did one of your nemesis kill her?”

Peter nodded. “Goblin. He was… my best friend at the time. Some things happened to him. It’s a long story.”

“Holy shit,” Y/n whispered.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. He felt suddenly exhausted. He was tired of being alone and being sad and being haunted. He was tired of being lost and full of guilt and self hate. He was tired of being angry and bitter. He was tired of flashbacks and nightmares and ruining his relationships with friends and romantic possibilities both. He was tired of this. Of all of it.

Peter felt Y/n take his hand, interlacing their fingers. “Honestly, Peter, you really did hurt me. You left me. I… Even if you were ready for another relationship, I don’t think I would be. What if we just… stayed friends? You can have a confidante, who knows the truth. Someone you can go to for help. For advice. For patching up. And we can just keep a relationship. That’s all I want, honestly. I want you in my life. I miss my tutor, and my friend. And it would be super awesome to be friends with Spider-Man.”

They were trying to joke, but Peter rose an eyebrow. “You couldn’t tell anyone.”

They shrugged. “I don’t care. I just admire you and what you do and who you are. You help me. You saved my life, and I saved yours. I want to keep doing that with you. Every hero needs a guy in the chair, right?”

Peter hesitated, but a very very small smile worked its way onto his face anyway. “We’d have to take it slow. I’m not used to having people around. Not since Gwen and Harry. I told Gwen’s dad too and he also died. I sort of have a reputation.”

Y/n nodded immediately. “I get it. If you need some space or time, take it. Fresh start, just friends. I’m having to get to know you all over again anyway. And I have to learn how to trust you again. Might as well just pretend this is the first time we’ve met. Well, not completely, but you get what I mean.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

They smiled, holding up their hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter Parker. Spider-Man. Science genius. I’m Y/n. Wanna be friends?”

He took their hand, and that broken, dark, ugly little thing inside of him finally became a little bit more bearable. A little bit better, even. “It’s an honor. I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

Y/n dropped his hand, then leaned their forehead against his shoulder. “Likewise.”

They fell quiet again, watching the sunset, and as the day ended it seemed something else had ended too.

Only time would tell what would begin again when the sun eventually rose in the morning as it always did. Hopefully, the darkness that had consumed Peter would be lit up with Y/n’s sun, and that night would end too.

They’d have to wait and see. He didn’t mind though. He got to wait with someone this time.

#peter parker #andrew garfield #spider-man #the amazing spider-man #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield imagine #the amazing spider-man x reader #the amazing spider-man imagine #Peter 3 #Peter 3 x reader #Peter 3 imagine

[wearywinchester]

Back Again

Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When it’s time to say goodbye after a date, Dean finds that it’s a little harder than it looks to do just that.

Requested by @halietigges: “Hello! Can I please request a oneshot where Dean is driving the reader (gender neutral) home after a date and the two share a goodbye kiss before the reader leaves the car and returns back into their home?”

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none—fluff, kissing

You sigh as you smile, content as ever as you walked to the car. Dean’s hand enveloped yours, keeping you close as you made your way along the well worn path. It was quiet, save for the growing breeze and the birds chirping before sundown, save for the two sets of footfalls over gravel. The clouds were rapidly becoming abundant as the breeze continued on, but even the impending storm couldn’t dampen your mood, couldn’t dissolve the happiness simmering in your stomach.

You felt a bit of relief when you caught sight of the Impala, the raindrops falling against your skin having been sparse but you knew it was only a matter of time before they’d pick up their pace. You quickened your step as you pulled Dean along, hearing his chuckle behind you.

“Easy there, sweetheart. The car’s not going anywhere,” he says, teasing in his tone as he wraps his hand around the door handle, opening the passenger’s side for you.

You spun on your heel as you looked at him over the door, his amused gaze catching yours as he began to walk around the front end to get to the other side. He stops in his tracks at the mere smile on your face, his lip between his teeth as he awaits your next words.

“You know,” you start, your smile widening even more as you look at him, “you keep sayin’ that, and maybe one of these time Baby just might prove you wrong, Winchester.”

He rolls his eyes at that as you duck into the car, closing your door as he opens his. You don’t fail to see the smile tugging on the corner of his mouth or the shake of his head, or the laugh that leaves his lips softly. His hand hovered over the key that sat in the ignition, his words on the very tip of his tongue as your words replayed in his mind. That’s when he turned to you.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, sweetheart?” He says, gaze fond as ever as he looks at you.

“You bet I do.”

His tongue swipes over his lips as he shakes his head once more, starting the car as his smile still lingers as he pulls out and looks at the road ahead. He turned on the radio, halfway through a song that he’d been quick to hum along to as he sped down the road.

It was the end of another date night amongst many, this one just as good as the last and the others before that. It was one that left you smiling to yourself as you looked out of the window at the trees and street lights passing by.

You’d gone to that diner in town, the one with those fries you swear are your favorite you’ve ever had. He knows that and it’s why he brings you there whenever he gets the chance, because that smile you’ve got on your face every time you get them makes it all worth it to him. That diner’s got that bacon cheeseburger he orders every single time without fail because nobody makes them quite like they do there. You know that and that’s why you pick that place every single time.

Your thoughtful reasons were unbeknownst to each other but still very much there each and every time.

He’d picked you up after he closed up at the garage for the day, having taken you straight to dinner the moment he found it in himself to stop looking at you like the lovestruck guy he knew he was. He’d never in a million years admit it though, no matter how much Bobby picks on him for it, no matter how much Sam teases him for it even for the years that built up to him finally asking you out on that very first date.

You were his best friend, the one he fell in love with and it took him a lot of stubbornness and a lot of Sam talking Dean out of backing out of making that move. He was glad he did and he wouldn’t admit that to Sam either.

He’d shown up on your doorstep with that famous Dean Winchester smile, the one that’d always seemed to be reserved just for you despite you being unaware of that fact. But just about everyone that knew the two of you were very much aware of it, it was hard not to be. You had your usual meal at that special diner you’ve alway found yourselves in one way or another for a number of years. You sat in your usual booth with all the contentment in the world as you sat there across from one another.

He’d snagged the last two slices of apple pie when it was nearing sundown, taking them to go and heading off to the one place you always went to. It was a quiet spot, nestled with trees standing tall all around the lake they framed. There was a wooden dock on the water’s edge, one you sat on together more times than you can count ever since you were teens who were too oblivious for their own good.

Now you were a couple of twenty-five year olds who’d finally worked up the nerve to be more than fools who’d pined for each other in secret, still oblivious to just how much you’d cared for one another.

You sat on the edge of that dock with your pie, a couple teasing jests shared amongst yourselves and bites stolen from the other’s slice. It was just the two of you there and you wouldn’t want it any other way than just that. It was your spot.

Dean Winchester wasn’t a man for fancy, best of the best restaurants, or the suits and ties and pristine fashion that come along with attending such a place. He wasn’t a man for wine and five course meals that cost way more than they’re worth. He loved greasy diner food and beer and the coziness that comes with eating in a place like that; it felt like home and it was comfortable. In fact, he’s still got some grease stains smudged across his cheek and under his nails from work. Still smudged on his t-shirt and the flannel he wore over top of it, his knuckles scraped up and busted from a car he can’t quite remember had been the cause.

He wasn’t one for expensive gifts, didn’t have the means for it despite the way he wanted to give you everything you deserve. It was one of the reasons he’d been so stubborn on talking himself out of taking you out on a date some time ago because he felt you deserved better than him, more than him, but that was something he’d push down forever because he’s quite sure that feeling wouldn’t ever go away.

Because despite that, he couldn’t keep himself from you, regardless of that nagging feeling he shoved down, he’d never be able to keep himself from anything that’s you.

But he wasn’t one for all that stuff in the movies and you couldn’t care less. You’ve got everything you need and there wasn’t a single thing you’d change about any of the dates he’d taken you on. You could do the same thing with him for forever and a day and not a single time would you find yourself growing tired of it so long as you did it with him.

You turned your head and looked at him, his gaze on the road as his elbow rested atop the ledge of the door as his hand draped loosely over the wheel. It didn’t take him very long to feel your gaze, his suspicions confirmed when he looks to his right and finds you smiling that smile at him, the one that makes him weak in the knees every single time.

He bites the inside of his cheek as he looks forward once more, and you know that look anywhere.

“You know, sweetheart,” he starts, throat clearing as the corner of his mouth quirks up a little more. “I heard if you take a picture, it might last longer.”

There it is.

You roll your eyes at his words, head shaking as you bite back your smile.

“You should maybe consider taking your own advice some time too, Winchester,” you say, your smile widening all the more at the look on his face, at the faux frown tugging at the corners of his mouth before his lips purse.

But that look didn’t last long, not at all as a quiet laugh fell from his lips.

You grinned as you looked down at your hands, at the small bouquet you held bunched in your loosened fist. It was a cluster of an assortment of flowers that didn’t match, picked spontaneously from the patches of wildflowers by the lake. It was something sweet that he thought of the moment he saw them, but it was something that made him make a mental note to get you a real bouquet next time.

But the small bunch of flowers grasped in your hand was more than enough for you, the look on his face when he’d plucked them from the ground and given them to you would be something stuck on your mind for a good long while and you were more than content with the idea of that.

The drizzling rain was steady as he pulled onto your street, the clouds having covered what was left of the sunset in favor of a looming gray, a contrast to the weather when he’d first picked you up. It didn’t seem like it would be stopping any time soon, heavy droplets pelting against the windshield and ricocheting off the hood of the Impala.

But that seemed to be the least of your concerns the very moment he pulled up in front of your house, parking along the curb.

You ran your tongue across your lips as you sigh, gaze looking out at the rain until it inevitably landed on green eyes as he’d done the same. He’d since turn the heat on low on your way home, seemingly a comfortable comparison to the chilly and gloomy evening weather just outside of the car. But when you met his gaze, just about everything else seemed to melt away and slip to the very back of your mind.

“I’m really starting to hate the idea of kissing you goodbye every time we go out on a date, you know,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“So, you hate kissing me goodbye?” You jest, head tilted as you try your hardest to bite back your smile.

His lips purse only momentarily as his eyes roll, tugging you all the more closer as his hand settles on your cheek. Your cheeks burn with a light heat as the warmth of his breath sweeps over your lips, his smile very much there.

“Sweetheart, you know what I meant,” he murmurs softly, lips pressing to yours in a kiss almost feather light, lingering there for a moment or two. “It’s the goodbyes I’m worried about.”

Your laughter is quick to simmer against his lips and dissolve into a hum just as quickly as it sounded, his lips warm against your own as the pad of his thumb brushes along your cheek. The tip of his freckled nose bumps against yours as he tilts his head, his own smile pressing into his kiss.

In not so perfect timing, a crack of thunder sounded, drawing your attention away from him and to the more than obvious fact that it might be in your best interest to head inside before the weather worsens.

Your gaze flickers from the windshield to Dean, his lips kiss swollen and pink as he swipes his thumb over his bottom lip with a sigh, his head tipping back momentarily. But he finds he can’t keep his eyes from you that long, the fondness of the look he’s got on his face mixed with the dread of parting ways for the night melding together in his expression.

He had his hand on the door handle, ready to get out and hurry you to your door in the rain before you stopped him.

“De, there’s no use in having you get rained on too,” you say, your brow raising when his lips purse. You knew he couldn’t care less about that but he also knew you wouldn’t budge. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, sweetheart,” he says quietly in the close proximity as you lean over the bench seat, kissing him once more.

You braced yourself as you stepped out into the rain, rounding the front end of the car before hurrying up the walkway to your front porch, the rain having dampened you being less than ideal. But he waited, he waited until you got up to your porch, waited until you got your keys after fumbling for them, waited until you opened your door and got inside safely before he even thought about pulling away. He always did that and he always would.

It wasn’t until you closed your door that you sighed, back pressed to the wood surface as a sigh left your lips, breathless from your rain dampened jog up to your house and breathless with utter content as your eyes fell closed for just a moment. Your smile still lingered just as it had done almost the entirety of the last few hours, sitting on your lips as you set your flowers down, set your keys on the table by the door.

You had to admit, goodbyes were the worst part of every date, of every bit of time spent with the older Winchester. The thought of it always had dread pooling in the pit of your stomach and it’d felt that way for as long as you could remember, but the both of you were far too stubborn to admit just how much you hated it.

But you didn’t have much time to think about it with the knock that sounded against your door.

You spun on your heel and twisted the door knob, opening it a crack before the smile tugged at your lips in an instant. When you opened it fully, green eyes stood on the other side of it under the covered porch, a half smirk on his lips as your flannel sat grasped in his hand. The one you kept in there for safekeeping should you find yourself running cold.

You take your lip between your teeth as you look up at him, your amusement more than evident in your expression.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re making excuses just to see me, Dean,” you say, matter of factly as your hand remains pressed on the edge of the door.

“What do I look like, some sappy rom-com guy?” He asks, trying his hardest to sound offended in the slightest bit.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

You watched those dimples appear by the corners of his mouth despite his ever present grin, his tongue wetting his lips as he looked away for a moment. Watched as droplets of water drip from the ends of his hair and roll down the bridge of his freckled nose to the very tip of it, dripping down to the ground.

You shake your head at his antics as you let go of the door, stepping out onto the porch.

“You really are something, Winchester,” you say.

You lean on your toes and settle your hands on his cheeks, lips brushing over his and your flannel drops from his hand in favor of wrapping around you his smile pressing into yours.

Goodbyes were what he’d dreaded most, even if he’d see you the very next day. It didn’t matter. You knew it’d be a matter of time before he’d shown up on your doorstep once more that night with a more than foolish excuse—he always did.

And you were fine with that.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

Hi, Ary, very inactive ex-mutual(i think???) here. Good to see you thriving! ♥ It's been a while since I've dipped my head into cockles stuff. Could I perchance maybe ask uuuuum tf is going on??? lol I see Mish apparently confirmed he used to stay over at Jensen's in Van, and heard newbs were apparently freaking out about it and getting a bit messy, which I get that, business as usual. But I'm also seeing shit about spin-offs? And Jared getting in a twitter fight with Jensen, causing/resulting in stans to going feral and sending hate?? I know you're not as big a fan of Jar, but that's part of why I figured I'd ask you, you usually have a really level head about this kinda stuff. If you don't wanna answer publically, or at all, that's totally chill!

Hey, Rhi! We're still mutuals! Of course we're still mutuals! When I saw the notification of your ask, I was like "Hey! I haven't seen you in a while!" and my husband was like "???" and I said "Tumblr" and he said "Oh."

It was a wild time haha.

In any case, welcome back to the dumpster fire! We are obviously still a mess. So to catch you up, I guess I will start by summarizing both before and after the finale (not sure where you left off so this might be redundant for you) ... basically, it became obvious as the end of the show neared that Jensen was not on board with the plan for the finale; although Jared never stopped singing its praises.

We got confirmation of this during a zoom interview where Jensen said that he actually went into the writers room as well as called Kripke to basically voice how he didn't agree with the direction the final season was going, but he was shot down on all fronts. In another interview, he was asked "What would you tell your younger self going into this career?" And Jensen responded with: "I would tell myself to just keep your head down and do the work" meaning, "Don't try to change things because you can't." I also think that this whole situation is what he wrote "Let Me Be" about for his first Radio Company album, but that is just my own speculation. All of his reluctance, even though he always followed it up with "But I eventually saw the value in the script" or "I came around in the end" (which never sounded sincere, and I don't think he was really trying to sound sincere) made us all very nervous about what was to come for 15x20; and of course, when the last two episodes aired, we saw just how badly they fucked it up.

After the awful finale, the entire fandom became aware of the CW's heavy handed role in the thing, basically squeezing all the life out of SPN to shape it into a ramp from which Walker could launch itself. They not only erased all the love and joy and representation that Cas's love confession gave us, they also tore apart the things that made sense about the bond between Sam and Dean, making it really just about Sam-- and therefore Jared, which of course, Jared seemed to be fine with ... even though no one else was. Misha barely said anything during the finale, and a few of the other actors talked about the show ending in various posts, but Jared tweeted up a storm ... and Jensen? Jensen just sat in sexy-silent resentment of the whole thing. He didn't tweet, he didn't post, he didn't say a word once he no longer had to, and I think that's because he was already going full-steam-ahead on his plans for redemption.

Which brings us to Chaos Machine-- Jensen and Danneel's new production company that is being run by a queer creative director and has a mantra of inclusivity and representation woven throughout it's fabric; and apparently, the first story that Jensen wanted to tell through this new platform is the origin story of Sam and Dean's parents; so last week (?) he announced the upcoming production of "The Winchesters" -- the untold love story of John and Mary. Obviously, John is not the most likable character from the show, so the idea was met with a lot of resentment when it was first announced, but Jensen has gone on to say that he is excited to take on the task of telling the "true" story behind these characters-- the one that makes sense with the pre-established canon and doesn't reject it. So, given that, the idea is being mulled over with a bit more optimism from the fandom.

Who isn't being optimistic though?

Jared Padalecki.

When Jensen made this announcement on Twitter, many of his friends and coworkers congratulated him, but not Jared. Jared responded with a passive aggressive: "I'm happy for you, man, but I wish I didn't hear about it through Twitter." This of course, sent all the die-hard Jared fans into a tizzy and they immediately began asking him if he was serious (hoping it was just a joke-- we all hoped it was because there would be fallout no matter what one's opinion on Jared is). Instead of leaving it there though or just deleting that tweet, Jared went on to tweet some more, saying that he was being serious that he didn't know about the plans for the prequel, and that he was "gutted" that Sam apparenlty wouldn't be included (mind you, this a prequel to SPN... meaning BEFORE Sam and Dean were even born, so how could Sam be included? But Dean is apparently narrating this story so maybe Jared thought Sam should be helping to narrate it? I don't know). But Jared being Jared couldn't just leave that there, he then went on to tweet at Robbie Thompson who was announced as a writer for "The Winchesters" so then Jared went off on him too, calling him "Brutus" and a "coward" acting like Robbie betrayed him (speculation is-- Robbie refused to write for Walker, so Jared is pissed that he essentially chose Jensen over him). He did fairly quickly, remove that tweet attacking Robbie, but of course the damage was done at that point. And it truly only took his first tweet calling out Jensen for some people to be like "Jared-- that sucks if you didn't know but why are you saying any of this publicly?"

As you might know, Jared has had issues in the past with posting hurtful things on social media, and has even used it as a tool for attack before-- calling out customer service agents and public workers that he felt have wronged him, which is bad enough ... but for him to then do the same thing to his best friend of well over a decade? Many people who had once liked him or at least gave him the benefit of the doubt (I used to ...) stopped after this latest twitter tantrum.

However, some people have suspected for some time that J2 had a falling out either shortly before the finale or just after. Their public/social media interactions have seemed awkward, stilted or even non-existent in moments that they normally wouldn't be. In the past year, when Walker premiered, Jensen didn't say much about his friend's new venture other than a "Congrats. buddy" here and there. Later, we learned that Jensen refused to work on the show ... Jared said he make him do it, drag Jensen to the set "kicking and screaming" which made many fans quirk up an eyebrow because, why would Jensen put up a fight unless the two weren't as close as they used to be? And then Jensen moved his family to Colorado (either permanently or for an extended period at least) which is notable considering how he moved to Texas seemingly to be closer to Jared, even buying a house that was near his. All this was just speculation though; but it wasn't until Jared's tweet complaining about not knowing about the prequel that the theories behind them falling out, became less theory and more fact.

The day after his twitter tantrum, Jared tweeted again-- not retracting his statements or apologizing, but instead saying that he and Jensen "talked" and were "all good". Jensen then tweeted too, parroting this statement to some degree, which only made the whole thing even more sour in the mouths of the fans. The fact that Jared didn't apologize for his outburst and throwing his friend under the bus, and also the fact that Jensen-- Mr. Sexy Silence, Mr. Never Tweets, Mr. Tech-Ignorant-and-Proud, actually had to POST SOMETHING saying that he and Jared made up, it just screamed OPTICS. It was obviously the work of agents and PR firms and lots of people going "Look, if you two keep beefing, that will mean the death of both of your projects. Even more people will stop watching Walker, and this SPN prequel will never get picked up due to the scandal." So, the two "made nice" publicly to quell the chaos, but in my opinion, it's all too little too late. Jared started a storm that he can't contain now with a little tweet, and it seems like he knows that too because before he talked about him and Jensen making up, he asked that people "not send threats". He could have just as easily said that he shouldn't have made this a public issue and that he's sorry, but instead, he continued to play the victim and stoke the flames by alerting us all to the damage he's done.

Now, like I said before-- I used to give him the benefit of the doubt. I don't think he's an awful human or that he deserves to be attacked or anything, but he is an adult man with very poor judgment and an obvious selfish-streak a mile wide. He should know better, and he should have more respect for his so-called "friends" and "brothers" than to make them targets to public ridicule. I have a hard time believing that Jensen still sees Jared the way he used to, and I wouldn't blame him a bit for wanting to pull away-- especially when he's moving on to so many new and exciting things. Jared certainly deserves happiness just as much as anyone else, but he went on twitter and basically asked for a scandal, and he got one.

The question is now-- was there a motive behind it? Was just looking for a reason to bring his and Jensen's falling out to light-- while making himself looking like the victim in the process? Or did he genuinely not know about the prequel and just decided to go about "not knowing" in the most toxic and hurtful way he could manage?

In any case, that is the drama ... that is the J2 insanity in a rather lengthy nutshell ... that is the tea ... and I hope it all makes sense.

But the good news out of all of this is, Cockles is thriving-- they are happy and in love and Jensen calls Misha "Babe" and Misha misses waking up to see Jensen in the morning, and they are just as cute and wonderful as can be.

So, I will end that there. I am so glad to see you back, and I hope I answered all your questions in a way that made sense ... I tried anyway!

💖💖💖

#omg #I don't even know if this makes sense #this took way too long to write #j2 #cockles #long post #spn family #so glad you see you back again my dear #welcome to hell #it's hotter now

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Hollow Pass (Part 1)

Summary: When the reader has to spend a day in the mines for work, she’s less than thrilled. When the miner showing her around for the day, Dean Winchester, is an ass, she’s even less thrilled. But an accident will change all of that and if they want a chance of getting out of the mess they’re in, they’ll need to put their lives in each others hands, literally...

Pairing: Miner!Dean x reader

Word Count: 4,100ish

Warnings: language, injury, frightening/claustrophobic/near death situations

A/N: Please enjoy the first of this 2 parter!

_______

You sighed as you stood in the trailer of the manager’s office, a jumpsuit and a pair of boots sat in a chair. Your boss, bless his heart, thought it was always a good idea for corporate positions to experience a day in the mines to truly understand the product and what the little guy went through on a day to day basis. The argument that you were not really corporate, not even close, seemed to go over his head.

“Y/N, you gonna change? I need my office back,” said the manager through the door. You pulled it open and pouted. “I don’t want you going down in the mines anymore than you do but if you want to make corporate, you gotta do what the CEO says.”

“Dad I don’t even want to work there. I like my simple office job.”

“Then why have you been in all those development programs at work?” he asked. You shrugged and he sighed. “Cause you can’t say no.”

“Do I have to?” you asked, looking back at the overalls.

“Do you want to quit?” he asked.

“I don’t want to lose a good paycheck. But I don’t want a corporate job either,” you said. 

“Then you’re shit outta luck,” he said. “I’m gonna put you with the Winchester boy. He’s on safety checks in our most secure mines.”

“You mean the ones that never have problems.”

“Funny how that all coincidentally happened today of all days,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks dad.”

“I don’t want you going anywhere near explosives. You’ll be safe doing the checks with Dean for the day.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you said twenty minutes later. The man in overalls and a hard hat rolled his eyes.

“I’m ten minutes late because of you which means I’m gonna get docked those ten minutes of pay so thank you little miss corporate.”

“I’m your boss’ daughter, jackass.”

“Still ain’t my boss,” he said. You huffed and headed over towards the mine entrance when he grabbed the back of your overalls. “No, dummy. You have zero safety gear so unless you want to die, you’re coming with me.”

“Asshole.”

“Dean Winchester at your service,” he said, dragging you over with him to some lockers. He punched a card and went to the storage racks, seemingly grabbing a few items and putting them on. He picked the hard hat off your head and grabbed one with a light and a wire attached to it, clipping it on your belt. He put something over your shoulder you put your arm through like a sling and clipped a mask onto the back of your belt, a flashlight and a small hand pickaxe going through your other loops. “Turn this lamp on anytime you’re in the mine and never, ever, take off your hat. If I yell at you or you smell something funny, get that mask on. Flashlight and the axe are backup for emergencies.”

He put a radio in your pocket and looked you over.

“Oh and for the love of God, do not wander off. I don’t care if you see a bug or break a nail or gotta piss.”

“What do you do if you have to…” you said.

“Normally you piss against some rock like a man but special manager’s daughter we’ll walk you back out here, take our slow ass time, make me go longer than my shift and because I was late today, I don’t get overtime.”

“That sounds kinda illegal.”

“The contracts for this company are a fucking nightmare,” he said, walking out of storage.

“Why work here then?” you asked as he went to an area and grabbed a clipboard. He took two water bottles and clipped them on each of your belts before whistling for you to follow after.

“Well somebody had to pay for his baby brother to go to law school and it wasn’t going to be my drunk of a father now was it,” said Dean, stopping and writing something down. 

“So you didn’t grow up with mining in your family?” you asked.

“No. I’m not some redneck hillbilly like you imagine either,” he said. He flipped on his light and turned yours on when you got to the mine entrance. “Crouch.”

“Huh?”

“We ain’t riding the cart which is missing, dumbass. Crouch down so you can fit in the tunnel,” he said. You swallowed and had to bend down some, following Dean closely. “Ain’t claustrophobic are ya cause now’s the time to tell me.”

“No,” you said. “Jerk.”

“Ah, see? We’re getting along already.”

You walked for five or so minutes before the ground sloped down further and an entrance to the right opened up. Dean straightened up and you did the same, stretching out as he grabbed the back of your jumpsuit.

“Dude, would you stop doing that?” you said.

“Would you stay in my line of sight?”

“That’s harassment. You can’t touch me without my permission,” you said, crossing your arms. He blinked a few times and rolled his eyes quite possibly the most dramatically you’d ever seen in your life.

“This? This is not an office building. Every single time you step in here you run the risk of dying and you have zero clue on how to stay safe down here. I hate it when you people with your big offices and penny pinching bullshit come down here and complain about every goddamn little thing. If you want out, get out of the fucking mining business.”

“You’re an irritable person,” you said. He grumbled and tugged you along with him until you brushed him off. You followed him down a hallway and another, Dean checking things off on his clipboard as he went. “Are you gonna explain any of this stuff?”

“What do you think?” he said. He whistled and you followed him down a few more hallways when he stopped a gauge looking contraption. He checked a few different numbers and valves on it as you spun around. 

“I guess it is kinda cool. That somehow you guys know how to block up rocks and leave all these cracks and know how to make it so it doesn’t all come crashing down.”

“Cracks?” he asked as he squatted down and read off a meter.

“Yeah like that big one,” you said, pointing at the wall across the way. He turned around and looked at it for barely a second before he grabbed your arm. 

“Move. Now,” he said. He pulled out his radio and pressed down the button. “We have a grade five crack in Lodge Six West. Do not blow. I repeat do not-”

The ground rumbled and you heard a splintering noise, Dean pushing you back into the hallway you’d been in. He jumped on top of you and covered your body with his, all the lights going out, a loud thundering of falling rocks happening close by. It seemed to go on and on before it finally stilled, the hallway pitch black.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I think so,” you said, coughing when you felt dust in the air.

“Don’t move,” he said. He lifted his head and there was some light, Dean looking around before climbing off of you and staring at a new wall of rock. He looked at the hallway you’d been in, clicking on his flashlight and you saw where the rock dropped off about a hundred feet away. “Well. Shit.”

“What just happened?”

“The rock was unstable and they already set off the charges and it shook the mountain so now there’s a giant hole over there and our exit is blocked.”

“What’s that way?” you asked, nodding down the only unobstructed hallway.

“Further down into the mine before you hit the decommissioned area.”

“Is there a way out,” you asked, Dean patting his side.

“Fuck. My radio is under all that,” he said. He took out yours and handed it to him, Dean nodding before he turned it on. “Main do you copy, over?”

There was silence on the other end and Dean hit the button again.

“Main this is Winchester in Lodge Six West with…what’s your name?” he asked.

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, manager’s kid. Copy, over.”

“Winchester this is Main. We got lots of calls coming in from ground crews about a shaking.”

“Lodge Six West Hall K is a giant crater of death and Hall H is buried, right up to the entrance of junction HJ.”

“Injuries?”

“We’re okay,” said Dean.

“Give me a second.”

Dean took a deep breath and coughed. He tapped your mask on your belt and you put it on, the air a bit easier to breath. 

“Winchester this is Melvin.”

“She’s okay, boss. Just a little shook up. Saved our asses from winding up in the ground even if she doesn’t know it yet,” he said. He held out the radio and you pulled down the mask. 

“Dad I’m fine, really. We both are. It’s just kinda dark and smelly is all.”

“I know. Put your mask on sweetie until you can get to some cleaner air,” he said. You put it back on, Dean, getting to his feet. He pulled you up and looked back at your blocked path. 

“Any other collapses?” asked Dean.

“None reported so far. Everyone should be out of the mine’s or on their way. Alarm is blasting.” You looked back at Dean, his eyes shutting.

“Melvin we can’t hear it. At all.”

“Rodney’s out checking where our side of the collapse starts. We’ll get you out,” he said, someone panting in the background.

“Hall B, Mel,” he said. Dean turned away from you and sighed. No one said anything for a long time until Dean finally raised his head.

“We got two 16 ounces bottles of water. If she rations it, she’s got a shot,” said Dean quietly.

“No, she doesn’t,” said your dad, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “How long does your radio have?”

“Mine got crushed. Hers was on a quarter charge. I’d guess maybe an hour or two tops,” he said.

“Should we call your brother?”

“He’s hiking in Glacier Park this week. No cell service,” said Dean quietly. “Just tell him to check my bottom desk drawer. There’s something for him there.”

“I can do that,” he said. “Is there anyone...parents-”

“All due respect sir, I’d rather you talk to your daughter,” he said. Dean held out the radio to you and you picked it up, Dean skirting around the corner to the one unblocked hallway.

“Dean?” you asked, following over there. He was leaned against the wall and looked over his shoulder at you. “What’s going on?”

“They can’t dig us out in time.”

“What do you mean-”

“Talk to your dad. You’re wasting time. That battery won’t last forever,” he said. He turned back and you walked back around the corner, sitting down against the wall.

“Hi dad,” you said.

“Hey,” he said, his voice shaky. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Mom’s on her way down to talk, okay? She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“I so quit this job,” you said, wiping off your eyes with the back of your hand. He laughed and you threw your head back. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m gonna stay on the line as long as I can, okay?”

“Okay. Okay.”

Two Hours Later

The battery in the radio had died about fifteen minutes ago. There was no sound aside from your sniffling and Dean’s down the hall. You got up eventually and went into the hall, sitting down beside him. You handed him the radio and he clipped it back on his belt.

“You okay?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“You try listening to someone say goodbye to their parents and not bawl,” he said. He wiped off his face and took a deep breath. “Air’s better now at least.”

“What do we do now?”

“Now,” he said, clipping his water bottle onto your belt. “You sit there and try not to exert a lot of energy and that water will last you a few days.”

“We both heard my father. They can’t drill or dig or do anything fast enough. It’d take weeks. I’m not sitting here next to your dead ass so take your damn water back,” you said, shoving it back in his chest. He didn’t speak but put it on his belt, pulling his knees into his chest. “Why were you so mean to me before? You gave up time on the phone for me. I don’t think you’re what you pretend to be.”

“I’m a dead man walking and that’s a fact.”

“Technically you’re sitting.”

He smiled and rested his face in his knees. He sat up and reached over behind you, hitting off your headlight.

“We need to conserve power as long as possible,” he said.

“Will our lights go out before we dehydrate to death?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said. “This is what it’ll be like.”

He flipped off his lamp and you swore you’d never experienced a darkness so deep. You felt his hand graze yours before holding it and you swallowed.

“Kinda less scary knowing you can turn it back on again,” he said.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why such a brute?”

“You do this job long enough and most people think you’re a dumb sack of shit with nothing in his head. You’re dead weight, odds are you’ll die down here or get into some kind of accident and have to go on disability the rest of your life. You corporate people are always so stuck up, like I’m not even good enough to be the dirt on your shoes. I didn’t give you a chance because odds were you were like all the rest of them. You’re the only reason we didn’t die in that hole, very painfully.”

“Wouldn’t we have-”

“No. It’s not a simple hole we would have fell in. Falling rocks, crushing and hitting, landing on you, ones you hit yourself. Might not kill you immediately. You’d feel it.”

“Dying of thirst is better?”

“I’d say so. Still get to keep this handsome face, or what’ll be left of it,” he said. He flipped his light back on and you scooted closer. “I think you’re very attractive.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m gonna die in like three or four days. Life has no consequences now and I happen to find you very attractive and you seem like a smart, sweet woman that put her parents a little at ease during the worst moment of their lives.”

“Who’s your brother?” you asked. “No consequences after all.”

“He’s a lawyer...and my best friend.”

“You said you did this job for him.”

“Student debt is a bitch. I try to help him out and the overtime helps make dents in it,” he said. “Our parents had debt out their asses. It caused so many problems for us. I wanted him safe, never have to worry about the next meal on the plate or the roof over his head or having to wear my hand me downs ever again. At least he’ll get my life insurance policy. That should help.”

“I have been busting my ass since I was a college freshman in that office to move up the chain for a job I didn’t even want. I completely lost nearly all of my twenties to work. All so I could die in here.”

“Well I know this doesn't sound good but I’m glad I didn’t die all super painful. Or that I’ll be alone,” he said. You smiled and nodded, Dean returning it. “Got any bucket list shit we can pull off down here?”

“We could make out,” you said. “Never knew anyone could make that jumpsuit look good.”

“Why the fuck not,” he chuckled. He leaned in close and your helmets bonked, Dean pulling his off and yours, quickly cupping your face. 

His lips were gentler than you thought, the two of you stopping when your lips were pressed together. You rested your forehead against his and broke off only an inch.

“Not as much fun at the moment as it sounded,” you breathed out.

“Pretty good last kiss though,” he said. You put your helmets back on and you grabbed his hand again. 

“Don’t let go down here. Please.”

He reached to his belt and undid a little pouch, pulling out a small tether of rope. He clipped one end onto him and the other to you.

“For when the lights go out,” he said.

“How long do we got?”

“About a day, maybe a little more,” he said. You sighed and turned your head, staring down the rest of the hall. “It’s decommissioned, Y/N. It’s a death trap.”

“Is there a way out?” you asked.

“Maybe. Maybe they never find us though,” he said. You stared at him and he nodded, hitting your headlamp back on. “Enough of the pity party. Let’s go get out of here or die trying.”

He stood and held out a hand, hoisting you to your feet. 

“So. What’s our best option?” you asked.

“It’s alright for a bit until we get to the decommissioned section. When we get there, that’s when it gets dangerous. Technically it’s dangerous now considering the blast but we’re okay for a bit,” he said. 

“Let’s go then,” you said. He nodded and you followed him down the hall, walking side by side. 

“Alright so the decommissioned section is called Hollow Pass. Beyond that is Upper Seven. If we can get to Upper Seven, we can get out the old entrance I’m pretty sure. Never been in there but hopefully it’s not a maze over there.”

“So Hollow Pass is the hard part.”

“Yeah.”

“Why was it decommissioned?”

“Unstable ground. Holes, pockets of air, rotted support beams, wood planks.”

“So it’s a death trap.”

“Yup,” he said. “We’re probably gonna die down there.”

“What do you think our odds are?”

“Well it’s been out of order for over fifty years, we have no map, I have no real idea where exactly to go...I give us 1% odds.”

“Beats are 0% odds here.”

“Good way to think about it considering we’re going to most likely die.” He stopped walking and took a deep breath. “If I fall or whatever, follow the widest hall possible and keep away from wood and cracks as best as possible. Ration your water and eventually you’ll find your way out.”

“If you fall I’m definitely not gonna make it.”

“Well at least try. You can tell my brother how devastatingly brave I was that way.”

“You just spent the past hour crying.”

“So did you,” he said. You bumped his shoulder and he returned it but it was playful and soft. You walked together quietly for a moment until Dean rounded a corner and took a deep breath.

There were a few planks across a hallway, Dean kicking them down, frowning when they broke pretty easily.

“There’s gonna be rot.”

“Lovely.”

“We don’t have to go,” he said. “You don’t have to. There’s a chance-“

“There’s no chance Dean. Not if we stay up there. If you don’t want to go, I will. Maybe I can get help back in-“

“We’re doing this together or you’re staying. I can go and you-“

“We both go,” you said. 

“I go first. You step where I step and if I tell you to do anything, you do it.”

“Dean. We already established that you’re not a hardass. You can lead the way but you know, nicely.”

“Alright, alright,” he said. He gave more slack in the rope attached to the two of you and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

He was calm for a few minutes until you were turning down a hallway, Dean suddenly stopping in front of you.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Look,” he said. You poked your head around him, swallowing at the rotted wood on the ground, holes worn into the planking. “Y/N that’s not good. Rot means there’s water and water means erosion and erosion means big shafts hundreds of feet straight down under those wood planks.”

“How much of it is wood?” you asked. You both looked ahead and sighed, the whole hall flooring covered in wood. “Shit.”

“Y/N. This is too dangerous. I’ve worked in mines since I was 18 and it’s way too dangerous.”

“Dean. I don’t want to die. If we don’t do anything, we’re dead in three days, maybe less.”

“Maybe they come up the decommissioned mine and get us,” he said. 

“Dean. The mountain collapsed from what my dad said. They are not coming in here, risking even more lives, in this mine. It might even have collapsed on the other side on the way out. We don’t know. All we do know is we stay and we’re dead or we go and we’re maybe dead.”

“You still won’t let me go on ahead on my own to try to get some help?”

“You’re not leaving me alone,” you said. You stepped ahead and he yanked on the rope, pulling you back. “Dean. Stop.”

“I go first,” he said. You held up your hands and he swallowed, Dean stepping past you, carefully putting his weight down on each plank. “Follow. Every footstep exactly where mine go.”

You followed after, the only sounds your breathing and the occasional board creaking. Dean put a foot down and stopped moving forward when you heard snapping. 

“Go back. Slowly.”

You stepped a foot backwards, putting weight on it and your foot going straight through. Dean grabbed your arm as you pulled your foot up, a few sticks falling into a deep dark pit. 

“What do we do,” you breathed out.

“Well we’re over rock that fell away so there’s a big hole beneath us if the rotted wood is anything to go by,” he said. You heard the slight waiver in his voice and sighed. “We make a choice. Forwards or backwards.”

“Back looks bad. Plus we already probably broke the supports.”

“I think solid ground is in front. But I have to jump for it,” he said. You looked past him and shook your head. 

“Dean, it's way too far. I can try to walk over there if you let out the rope. I get to solid ground and then you walk and if you fall, I got you with the rope.”

“Sweetheart, there’s no way.”

“You’re too heavy and we can’t stay here,” you said. You slipped past him and he tried to grab you but you went quickly. “Dean let out the rope. Now.”

“Fuck. We’re gonna die.”

“No we’re not,” you said, walking quickly, planks creaking but you sighed when you had solid rock under your feet again. “Alright. Just go where I did and fast.”

He took a deep breath and walked a few steps, a loud groaning of the wood making him move faster.

You hit the ground the second you saw him go down, the wood breaking away. Dean shouted and you dug your heels into the dirt. 

“Y/N!” he said, falling straight down into a hole and out of view.

_____

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean #winchester #dean spn #miner!dean #au #dean x you #Dean Winchester one shot

[julemmaes]

Payback

Rowaelin Month, Day Five

A/N: Yall I'm dying. I didn't even wanna write today and I kinda forced myself to and I'm not proud of myself for this but I just wanted you to have something so yep. Tomorrow's will be a lot angstier and sadder than this one, so soak up the very light fluff I'm giving you till you can

Signing off, goodnight yall

Word count: 3,614

Aelin hated the underground car park reserved for the residents of her building. It was dark, so narrow that you had to do at least a hundred swerves to avoid taking any corner and scratching off half your car, and it was impossible to find a spot when everyone came home in the evening after hours and hours in the office and parked as they saw fit while still thinking about the thousands of pieces of paperwork that would be waiting for them at their desks only nine hours later, sometimes taking up more than two spots at once.

The only reason she still tried to park down there was that there was a flock of pigeons in the trees just outside their block of flats, on the main road, which had made a nasty habit of shitting on anything - or anyone, on some unpleasant occasion - that stopped for more than five minutes under the thick branches. A perfect hiding place for birds, that no one had thought to warn her about when she had moved in only a few months earlier.

She had deemed herself lucky the night before, when she had returned before anyone else and found the lot completely empty. She'd been so happy that she'd driven around a bit down there just for the hell of it. She'd pulled up next to the exit, thinking it would be easier to get out the next morning.

She hadn't anticipated the three assholes who had parked so as to block her path in every conceivable way.

She grunted, banging her fist against the steering wheel when she realised she still wasn't clear, and put the car into reverse for the twelfth time, before changing gear and driving three inches forward. And so on, and on, and on, until she managed to steer the face of the car towards the exit and let out a satisfied howl.

She started up the slope towards the road, taking her eyes off the driveway and distracting herself for a moment to choose which radio to listen to, when the car hit something and the dull sound of the bang echoed throughout her body, propelling her forward.

Aelin squealed, hitting the brakes hard enough to cause a high-pitched squeal, and soon the smell of burnt plastic filled her nostrils.

The car shut off and she pulled the handbrake vehemently, getting out of the car and trying to figure out which wall she had hit, already cursing every deity that had ever existed. She didn't have enough money to afford a repair, and she knew perfectly well that the dent would be there for months before she let any of her friends help her.

She wrinkled her brow, noticing how no side of the car was touching walls or columns.

"What the..."

And then she heard it, a grunt of pain.

She opened her eyes wide, running around the car and finding a man on the ground.

To the view of a head full of stark white hair, the fear she’d just ran over one of the oldies that lived on her floor stuck her. But then the person got up on their elbows and she let go of a sigh of relief.

But still, she had just runapartment someone over. She hurried his way.

"Oh, fuck." said Aelin, approaching the stranger. The man pulled himself up to sit, bringing a hand to his face, on his cheek, where a cut was bleeding profusely on his shirt.

"Holy shit." muttered the guy, looking up at her, "That hurt."

Aelin was frozen in time, her hands to her gaping mouth, looking for the right words.

When he tried to stand, swaying a little, she pushed through the fog in her mind and truly looked at him, searching other injuries, but not failing to notice his sheer handsomeness.

The man looked like he’d been made in heaven.

She shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself – now was not the time – and started talking.

“I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t see you there and- oh god, you’re bleeding. You need me to rush you to the hospital? Fuck, you think you broke something?” the words just kept flowing and flowing. “Where were you even going? Why didn’t you just got out of the main entrance? This fucking parking lot. I swear we have to call the landlord and have him put some lights down here. Your shirt,” she grimaced, eyeing the blood standing out on the white fabric. Aelin looked him in the eye, “I have a very similar one upstairs? You want me to go fetch it for you, I could-”

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, putting his hands in between them, forcing her to step back, “Shut the fuck up!”

Aelin’s mouth closed shut and her eyebrows raised so high she felt her skin pull on her temples. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes popping out.

This man. Sure, she’d just ran him over, but no one had ever talked to her like that.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled, “And I live in this building, I’ll go take my own shirt, thank you.” He took a deep breath, brushing off his trousers and bending to gather his stuff that had scattered around during his fall. When he lifted his head again, he gave her a tight smile and his piercing green eyes stared at her with an intensity that had Aelin’s toes curling in her shoes.

“Have a nice day.”

He then proceeded to walk away, leaving Aelin alone in the darkish driveway.

She looked around, hoping to see someone who could confirm that it had just been a figment of her imagination, but there was no one.

Getting back in her car, Aelin started the engine and drove up to the street, chewing on her lips, “What the fuck just happened?”

***

Aelin had thought all day about the mysterious man. She hadn’t been able to focus during her meetings and hadn’t even finished one of her projects. Something that she sure as fuck knew her boss would make her notice and work her ass off to make up for once word got to him.

Her day had started off so bad she knew it couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong.

Her assistant had spilled coffee over her only finished drawing and herself. One of her coworkers had decided today was the perfect day to quit her job and pile her projects on Aelin’s desk. Then she’d gone out for lunch with some of her friends and it had started raining so heavily she’d been forced to stay in the office, only eye-eating the mouth-watering dishes her friends had posted on their instagram stories. They’d made it to the diner just before the sky cracked open.

And, the cherry on top, someone had keyed her car.

She’d been on the verge of tears when she’d spotted the red stains of her neighbor’s blood on the parking lot floor when she got back home, but she didn’t let any fall.

She had a date.

And she wouldn’t let all these little things get to her and ruin what could possibly be the best night of her life.

One of her life-long best friends had set her up on a blind date with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She’d promised the man was the perfect match, someone Elide thought would keep her on her toes and match her overflowing personality.

Aelin had been hesitant at first when Elide hadn’t wanted to give her a name, or show her a picture, claiming she’d go all FBI style on him and ruin their first meeting, but she’d also promised Aelin she’d met the guy a few times and he’d been nothing but a gentleman.

And she had heard so much of him she felt like she’d known him her whole life.

Some of the things Elide had told her, she’d liked better if she’d found directly from him, but Aelin was a picky woman and she wasn’t risking another date with a creeper.

She pulled up in the restaurant’s parking lot where Elide had reserved the four of them a table and turned off her car, clutching the wheel. She took a deep breath. And another.

She was still a little worked up and all the pent-up emotions of the day were threatening to spill over the surface any minute, but she could make it past dinner and then have her little monthly breakdown in the peace and quiet of her apartment.

She fixed her lipstick, tightened up her ponytail and let two strands of hair cascade on the side of her face. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, “You can do it.” she whispered as a short pet talk.

She got off the car, pulled out her phone to check if Elide was already inside and she was so focused on the screen she failed to notice someone backing up right in front of her until it was too late.

The car only bumped into her hip, but it was enough to make her lose her balance.

Aelin merely had time to register what was happening that she found herself lying in a puddle of rain and mud. She closed her eyes at the dull pain on the back of her head, but she knew for a fact the hit hadn’t been that bad.

She lifted her arms up, looking down at the wet spots on her dress, darkening by the second. Her seventy euros purse soaking up the water all around her.

The tension behind her eyes just increased when she heard the driver’s door open and someone step out of the car. She couldn’t have stopped the sobs even if she wanted to.

“Miss? Oh god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Strong arms circled her waist and pulled her up in a standing position. She brought her hands to her face, her body now racked by her crying as she tried to get a handle of herself.

“Miss?” the voice called again, now nearer. “Are you hurt? I didn’t-” the man talking stopped suddenly and Aelin looked up, not seeing anything through the tears. “You.”

And then it hit her.

That voice.

She knew that voice.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes and staring right back at the man she had ran over that same morning.

Her mouth fell open.

He was looking at her with an amused expression and Aelin couldn’t find the words once again.

What was it with this man and his ability to take her ability to talk by just showing up?

He had a transparent band-aid on his cheek, his cut far less severe than she had thought, and his eyes were glistening with mirth. He was wearing a simple black pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt, but he was even more handsome than in his work clothes.

Aelin was taking rushed, trembling breaths, and she was about to kill this man with her bare hands. Shred his skin off his bones and have him beg-

“I guess we’re even now, uh?”

His attempt of a joke flew over her head and she charged at him, a scream lodged in her throat.

His eyes widened and he took a step back when she flung her arm at him, trying to hit him. His hands closed around her wrists, blocking her from causing him more harm that she’d already done.

“You asshole!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “You ruined my dress!”

Aelin lifted a leg, more than convinced to kneel his balls, but he managed to block her blow again, infuriating her even more.

“I was about to meet the love of my life and ruined my fucking dress!”

He tried to push her away from him, still squeezing her wrists, and his brow furrowed.

“He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He’s a pediatrician! He loves children! And he has a cute fucking dog my friend said I would love and cuddle the shit out of! Her name is Fleetfoot and she’s a golden retriever and Elide knows I fucking love goldens. And he’s from Orynth, just. Like. Me!” she got louder and louder with every word she spit out. “And he’s tall, and handsome and he’s the perfect match! And I deserved this one night!”

The man was now looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, his hold slightly loosening.

“I’m so done with this dating thing and I’d finally found him and you!” she shoved a finger in his chest, making him retreat a few steps. “You wanted your payback so bad you ran me over with your car!

“And now he’s gonna take one look at me and think I’m a fucking psycho! I bet my hair are the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen and my make up. Oh fuck, I must look like a panda.” Aelin started crying harder, laying her hands flat on the man’s torso, pushing her head to his chest. “I look like a fucking panda.”

She tried to speak again but her mind just couldn’t form any coherent thought, until she felt the man’s arms closing around her shoulders. He stepped closer, running his hand up and down her back, whispering something she couldn’t really hear over her crying.

Aelin didn’t know how much time she spent in the stranger’s embrace, but when the gravity of the scene she’d just made in front of him downed on her, she felt her body flare up in embarrassment.

That was her life now?

Having mental breakdowns in a dark parking lot after someone she’d ran over with her car had returned the gesture and then making them console her?

She detached herself from the man and for a second she thought she’d felt him hesitate before he took a step back. And another, leaving her standing her in her soaking wet dress and her puffy, surely-red eyes. He bent down, picking up her purse and handing it to her.

She lowered her gaze, not even daring looking at his shoes and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

The man made a sound of surprise, “Why would you be sorry?”

Aelin wished she could die on the spot. Evaporate out of existence.

“For hitting you. Or at least trying. And crying all over you.” she said and then grimaced. She ran a hand over her face. “I just had a very hard day and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come, but this guy seriously seems like he could be the missing piece to whatever the fuck my puzzle-life is. I didn’t want to take a raincheck and have him thinking I’m not serious about this.”

A beat of silence, “I’m sure he would have understood.”

She shook her head, keeping on talking as if he hadn’t even been there, “And now I can’t go in like this.” she passed her hands on her dress, the tears building up again in her eyes. “Plus, Elide didn’t tell me what he looks like, cause she thinks he’s a real snack and wanted to see my face when I saw him for the first time.” she was bordering on pouting, “That means he’s gotta be smoking hot or I’ll be so pissed at her.”

The man snorted loudly, “A snack.” he hummed, “Maybe I should meet your friend and thank her.”

Aelin’s head snapped up, “Oh no, she’s taken.” she shook her head vehemently, “Like so freaking taken. I swear she and her boyfriend have been together for a whole of three months and they already act like a married couple.”

He nodded, a lopsided smile on his face, “I know the kind.”

She’d been so absorbed by her talking that she hadn’t noticed she’d stopped crying.

She breathed through her nose and clasped her hands together, before reaching one out towards him, “I think introductions are needed. I’m Aelin.” she offered a tentative smile.

His hand engulfed hers, shaking it with impressive gentleness. His smile grew even larger if possible and Aelin was starting to think she was about to het murdered.

But then he said his name and the world ceased existing around them.

Their hands still moving up and down between them.

She tilted her head forward, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

He licked his lower lip, “I’m Rowan.”

Aelin closed her eyes, holding her breath.

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. She took a step back, wishing for the ground beneath her feet to crack open and just eat her whole.

“I’m gonna go kill myself now, if you’ll excuse me.”

His laugh reached her ears with painful speed.

Rowan.

She couldn’t believe it.

Well, she could. The man laughing his heart out at her expense was probably the most handsome person she’d ever seen in her entire life.

At least Elide hadn’t lied about that.

“A tad dramatic, if you ask me,” he said as his laugh died down. He pointed at the restaurant behind him, “You want me to go fetch the married couple so we can go back at the appartment and you can change? I’m not against you walking in there with this outfit at all,” he gave a pointed look, matched by a shit-eating grin that seemed to be etched in his lips, “I’m not gonna think you’re a psycho, not for this at least, and I’m ready to fight everyone who looks at you the wrong way. But you look like you could use the comfort of a warm house.”

Aelin looked up at him with a questioning look, trying to understand if this man she’d just tried to maul was seriously offering her options, letting her choose after everything that had gone down so far between the two of them. As if still giving her a chance.

Rowan arched a brow, looking around and glancing back at her, “Aelin?”

Oh, fuck.

She had been oh so not ready o hear her name from his lips.

She nodded and he smiled, leaning down a bit.

She could smell his cologne from here.

“Yes to what? Me calling Lorcan and Elide or getting inside even if you dripping wet?”

Holy fucking shit, this man shouldn’t have been allowed to say the words dripping wet.

She stilled herself.

What the hell was she thinking? She brought her hands to her face, “Please call them and let’s head home. I’m so fucking tired.” a yawn broke her sentence, as to prove her words, “And I’m freezing in this skimpy dress.”

Rowan rushed to her side, “Oh, god, sorry for not offering sooner, here,” he opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a huge blue sweater. Without even waiting for an answer he snatched her purse from her hands and shoved her head in his sweater.

Aelin felt better right away and gave him a big smile.

Rowan answered with one of his own and of course he had to be this perfect and more.

“I’m sorry for ruining your dress, I’ll make sure they wash it carefully when I take it to the laundry. If you’d let me.”

She nodded faintly, exhaling the panty-dropping smell of his sweater.

“And I’m hoping to see you wear it again once we finally get to go on a proper date.” he smirked, “I bet you looked amazing before I went and ran you over.”

Aelin chuckled, shaking her head, “You truly are a gentleman. Elide wasn’t exaggerating.”

Rowan’s demeanor changed completely and Aelin feared she’d said something wrong, but he averted his gaze as if he was embarassed.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” he said. Aelin almost tripped on her feet. He was sorry? “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that but I was just coming back from the hospital and Elide was right saying I work with kids, but I’m not a pediatrician, I’m a pediatric surgeon.”

His gaze grew dark as he looked over her shoulder, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs.

“Yesterday night we lost a eight years old and I wasn’t really there when you hit me with your car. I didn’t mean to yell at you like I did, it was just-”

Rowan couldn’t finish his sentence that Aelin lunged for him, hugging him as tight as he’d held her a few minutes before, hoping she could relieve some of the pain that was surely clutching his heart. She felt him sag in her arms and hold her in turn.

She was glad she could offer some kind of support.

“It must be hard.” she whispered against his chest.

Rowan nodded, hitting her head with his chin, “It is, but it’s part of the job. The only way you can live with something like that in your baggage is knowing you did everything you could to save them.”

Aelin could feel the emotion lacing his every word and tightened her arms for a moment before freeing him of her embrace. He silently thanked her and told her he’d be right back with their friends.

The second he was gone she realized she couldn’t wait for when he’d be back and they could keep talking.

She’d never felt this way before. Not this fast at least.

Sure, she had loved all her exes, but this. This was different.

There was something there, a connection.

And while he walked back to her, Lorcan and Elide in tow, a bright smile on his handsome face, she couldn’t help but think she was ready to find out all about it.

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[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Can we take a moment to talk about what a tragic character Minerva is? Y’all know that for the longest time I haven’t been the biggest fan of her, and honestly I’m still not? but I think I might’ve had a breakthrough on why that is. 

Whenever I’ve asked around to see why people find her so appealing or why they consider her their favorite, I’ll get answers like, “she’s such a complex character and she deserved a redemption arc!” or “she should’ve come back to the school with us! Let Minnie be happy, you cowards! Telltale did her dirty! I could write paragraph after paragraph about her!” all sorts of things along those lines… but like, no one seems to want to actually talk about her. I find that interesting? Since when I do follow up with a “care to explain further?” I get nothing. Radio static. Like…. no, talk to me please, I just wanna understand-

Minerva within the context of TFS is such a tragedy. She grew up in a school for troubled youth where all the adults left them for death at the start of the breakout, they had walkers trying to eat the living all around them, and I’m sure she saw her fair share of traumatic violence and despair… but on the bright side, she always had her twin sister, Sophie, and little brother, Tenn. She had her friend and eventual girlfriend, Violet. She had music, and a dorm full of pretty paintings done by Sophie. She and Louis composed a song together to make everyone feel better. There are worse places to live than the school. 

Then one day she got traded away to a bunch of raiders against her will, having no idea what the hell these people were gonna do to her and Sophie. They were made to be soldiers to fight in a war that had nothing to do with them. The delta fucking broke her. If we’re to believe Lilly’s story about the twins, they started their brainwashing process early on when Sophie was still alive, and it seems like Minerva was easier to control as Sophie was still planning a way out and causing trouble. Then, when Sophie convinced her to steal a boat and get the hell out, they got caught and the delta forced her to murder her own twin sister. 

Like…. I’m sorry, not only did Minerva kill her own sister, but she was made to believe that was the right thing to do? That line she says about how she had to prove her loyalty to the place she calls home? That shit’s ingrained in her brain, you can tell that isn’t the first time she’s heard or said that very thing. That is what made her family to the delta. Delta is her home now, her family. Sophie was just a thing that needed to be dealt with. You keep your head down, do as you’re told, and you survive.  You survive and you get to go home, eat a hot meal, take a shower, and be with your delta family.  If not, you end up like Sophie.

What’s also fucked is that Minerva actually cares about these people now. Think about that. After everything they did to her and made her do, she’s been trained to see them as her family and obey. When you save Louis and he kills Dorian, Minerva actually cries out and is visibly hurt by her death. When she’s with the other raiders on land, she's screaming at walkers to get away from them. She cares about the people who made her kill Sophie… and no one ever talks about that??

She fucking hates Clementine. Clementine is just another thing in Minnie’s way. I know the part of the fandom likes to ship these two together and they think it’s hot when they fight and shit, but within the canon text, Minerva wants Clementine gone. Dead. She is the thing stopping her from having her old family merge with her new family. If Clementine hadn’t made them fight, they all would’ve been captured and they’d all be a delta family now. She would’ve had Tenn back. 

Clementine is the problem, she made everyone fight back and that’s why people are dead. Minerva hates her for it… it’s not a “I hate you but like the sexual tension, y’know?” that I see people pretend it is, it’s “you are ruining everything and if I have to, I will kill you myself and I won’t give a second thought about it when they toss your body overboard.”

Like….. seriously, think about how fucked up all of this is. Minerva is a husk of who she was before she was taken away. Sure, you do have to keep in mind that when Tenn and Violet are describing her, their sights are a bit clouded, y’know? But I do believe that she was someone who was kind and cared about people, she wanted to make people feel safe and comforted. 

Now she’s a brainwashed soldier who won’t help the people she used to call friends when they’re about to get limbs cut off. She won’t hesitate to knock someone unconscious or threaten a child.  She’s willing to trick them into being captured with no regard for what’s going to happen to them. … all she knows is this was the mission, and now they all get to be together again back at the delta. 

Then when she finds out there’s a bomb on the boat, she ditches Violet to blow up with it in order to make it to land herself. She loses her shit seeing everyone die and gets her face chewed off by a walker… and then she tries to blow Clementine and AJ up with a grenade. 

Oh, and who can forget the fact that she tracks the group down with plans of murdering Tenn so that they can go to a better place together? And she’ll take down anyone who gets in her way?

Like….. jesus christ, Minerva’s waaaaay too far gone. It’s awful. 

I think that’s what stumps me about why she’s so loved in the way that she is. It’s not that I don’t understand why she’s complex and well-written, I get that perfectly fine. She’s a compelling character study when you comb over all her scenes and take different factors into account.

What I don’t understand is why we tend to just throw everything interesting about her away? For what? 

These days, I never see anyone talking about any of this unless they’re insisting she deserved a redemption arc which…. Eh, I’ll touch on this later. What I mostly see here and mostly other platforms is how great it would be if she and Clementine made out, or hey what if she and Violet got back together if she did come back to the school? Or they just….the best term I have for this is “uwu-ify.” As in she’s reduced to a caricature of a tall, pretty, mean, white lesbian who has “good damage.” 

People insist that Telltale are cowards or bastards because their predictions of her turning on the delta to save Clem and crew didn’t happen. Instead, Minerva ends up being the final baddie you gotta get away from, and she ends up taking someone down with her. But did you really expect to just do a 180 and suddenly decide being brainwashed for over a year was lame and Clementine and friends are cool? Gonna help them out and be with Tenn again? Sure, there’s some left over trauma but love conquers and fixes everything, right?

Uh…. no? That’s not how people work? Honestly, if we entertain the idea that Minerva wasn’t bit and somehow didn’t murder Clementine when they all got back to the school…. romance is the last thing she is ever gonna think of??

I think that’s what bothers me most when reading these au’s and rants about redemption and the entire idea of clemerva as a whole. It’s the same thing that I see happen with Violet- Minerva only has value to fans if she’s in a wlw relationship. By herself, she doesn’t matter. They don’t care about her canon story, they don’t care about Sophie, they don’t care about discussing what could’ve happened if she and Tenn reunited under better circumstances or had a healing recovery together. But why?

Throwing a girlfriend at her isn’t some band aid that’s gonna cover up all the bad she went through?? Having an enemies to lovers romance with Clementine isn’t going to fix a years worth of brainwashing, trauma or the fact that she murdered her own sister and the delta told her she's proved her worth to them?? 

Having the support of those around her is a good thing, don’t get me wrong. The idea of the Ericson crew as a whole trying to help her out and do the best they can to accommodate her is bittersweet since there’s only so much they can do. They’re not trained therapists, which is what Minerva would need and plenty of years ahead of her to work through and come to terms with everything that happened as well as taking steps forward. I’m not saying that she shouldn’t have friends or that she couldn’t have a healthy romantic relationship someday... but that isn’t the solution, y’know? 

I don’t know how else to explain this, but it makes me feel weird that all of this stuff is flat out overlooked or doesn’t appear to matter to fans of her. 

Look, I get it. We all want these characters to be happy. AU’s are a thing, after all. Sometimes we want to forget about the bad things and focus on the good that bring us comfort. You wanna gush about the idea of an AU where the twins never got traded, the raiders didn’t exist, and Clementine got to meet them the way they were before? I feel that, AU’s are super comforting and fun to explore, and my point isn’t to try and shame anyone who has an AU you like this. 

Hell, you think I don’t have days where I pretend mute Louis isn’t a thing because the whole concept of Louis having his tongue cut out of his mouth breaks my fucking heart? No, lot’s of days I just want to forget everything about that route, I want to set aside all the bad and just intake as much clouis fluff as I can get…. But that doesn’t mean I always ignore or refuse to acknowledge the bad just because I don’t like it. I fucking hate the fact that Louis loses his tongue when you don’t save him, but guess what? That’s a canon route you can play, just like any other route, and the possibilities that come with a mute Louis are vast and compelling. 

This is how it is for me… my favorite characters are my favorite for a reason, and I take all the bad with the good. Louis isn’t perfect, and I don’t want him to be. I was to dive into his backstory about why did that to his parents, I like to talk about what he went through with Marlon’s murder and his feelings about AJ and Clementine at the point, I like to view his love of music as bittersweet. He can stand on his own, and while he is a love interest for Clementine, that isn’t his only purpose. 

I know everyone’s different, they express their love for characters in their own ways, but I do have a genuine question: do you guys actually like Minerva?

Believe it or not, I’m not trying to step on toes or make everyone feel defensive which I know is how people will react to this. “You’re just saying all of this to make us feel bad for shipping clemerva! You don’t even like Minnie so you don’t get to say shit!” yeah yeah, I hear you and look, it’s true that she’s not my favorite character. I know I’ve said I hate her in the past but upon reflection and throwing out fandom interpretations.... I don’t hate her. I get it now. She’s a great character study to dissect and analyze and I think she deserves more than what the writers and the fandom have given her. 

And yeah, what I do hate is clemerva, and I’ve explained why. It’s not for me, it makes me uncomfortable, but at the end of the day, who cares? Me not liking it doesn’t mean anything to those who create AU’s for them. They have their reasons, they can do as they please as long as they’re not hurting anyone. I’m just here pointing out things I see and things that bother me in hopes of starting a discussion.

There’s my ramble about Minerva. I’m gonna go make some tea now. 

#twdg minerva #twdg clementine #twdg sophie #twdg tenn #twdg violet #twdg louis #twdg marlon #twdg lilly #twdg aj #twdg