#I didn’t want to make a separate post so I’m dumping this at the bottom of this ask lmao enjoy

[chasingpj]

𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬

"I might spread a rumor about you and Percy rendezvousing at midnight. The Aphrodite cabin will have a hoot with that one."

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 4,931

warnings: none

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story, click here

a/n: hi hi! this is part one of a self-insert series I'm working on. in this story, y/n is a child of hecate, and this storyline follows the books. the current timeline here is post sea of monsters and will continue through the Heroes of Olympus books. though it follows the original plot, y/n has her own storyline and quests. i tried to make y/n gender-neutral but as I continued to work on the timeline for this project, i had decided that this fic is for a fem reader. guys, this is really just me projecting my fantasy into fanfiction lol. i feel like this is a slow start?? and there is a lot of info dumped in this so bear with me. it'll get better and I'll be working to improve my writing as the series continues. I was on a writing hiatus for a really long time and I'm out of practice so this is my way to get back and hopefully, exceed the skills I had when I was a consistent writer. anyways, if you have any feedback, let me know! I'd love to hear what you think. as i get deeper into the series, i might ask for some suggestions on what to do with the fic. anyways, i'll stop rambling and i hope you like it!

Part One Part Two

You ignore the aching in your neck as your focus is fixed on the herbology book in front of you. You’ve been seated at your desk for Zeus knows how long reading and taking notes in your Book of Shadows, determined to finish reading it as fast as possible. Your half-brother, Alabaster, insisted that you need to memorize all the herbs and their properties before he can properly teach you how to use them in potions. Even though you understand its importance, you hated introductory work. You are itching to get to the real stuff, resulting in you glued to your chair, studying through the night as your cabin mates were fast asleep in their beds. But as determined as you are, Ambrose, your familiar, wasn’t much help. Ambrose whines as he rubs his head against your legs like a needy kitten, making it difficult to ignore him.

“What is it, Ambrose?” You whisper, sitting back in your chair in defeat. You take a second to massage the back of your sore neck before turning to face the translucent hound sitting attentively at your side. His tail sweeps the floor as it wags excitedly, and a short huff leaves his snout as if he was proud to have finally gotten your attention.

Your eyes meet his, racking your mind to figure out what Ambrose needs to tell you. At first, you thought he wanted to play, but you didn’t have time for that, so you decided to ignore him. Usually, after being ignored for a while, Ambrose will give up, finding something else to occupy him. But tonight, he was particularly persistent, and he’s only like this when he needs to tell you something.

Before you can ask what he wanted again, Ambrose gets up from his seated position, running over to the small table that stands beside your bed. You furrow your eyebrows, the first thing you notice when you walk over are your crystals neatly placed in front of your spell books as usual. Seeing them made you suddenly remember what you had planned to do.

You had told Ambrose to remind you to charge your crystals and collect water from the lake since there is a full moon tonight and of course, Ambrose being your loyal companion, did exactly that. Before looking down at the hound, who now is breathing heavily, his tail somehow wagging faster than before, you smile to yourself.

“I told you to remind me earlier, didn’t I?” Ambrose snorts and runs around your feet enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but giggle at his excitement as you reached down to pat his head. “Good boy. What would I do without you?” You continue to praise him, grabbing a black pouch and carefully placing the crystals in it. You put your index finger to your lips, signaling Ambrose to be a little quieter despite his excitement. If he accidentally wakes anyone up, then you definitely weren’t going to be able to fulfill your plans.

You bite your bottom lip as you tiptoe out of the aisle between the bunks. You look around the notoriously cramped Hermes Cabin to make sure your assumption that everyone was asleep by now was correct. It wasn’t hard to make out the faces of your cabin mates since seeing clearly in the dark was one of your many gifts, so you carefully walked along the bunks, being as quiet as you could. You are especially cautious as you approach the front where your cabin leaders, the Stoll brothers, slept. You study them for a second, knowing for sure Travis was asleep since he was snoring and loudly at that. Before you can check if Connor is asleep, you hear him shifting in his bed. You stand frozen in your spot, hesitantly looking over and you were expecting to be met with the usual mischievous grin. Instead, his back was towards you now. You have a feeling in your gut that he wasn't asleep, the timing of his moving was much too convenient. You really didn't want to wait any longer though so you decide that you might as well leave before he could stop you.

You turn on your heels, walking over to the window before you push it open. You cringe softly as the hinges creak, and you look back at the cabin to double-check if anyone has woken up from the sound. You sigh in relief when you see no one has moved, and you turn back to the window, carefully crawling out of it. This wasn’t unusual for you. You’ve done this so many times that using windows as a mode of exiting and entering a room was as natural to you as walking in and out of a door, and soon you were hopping down onto the grass. Your back is pressed against the cabin as you walk the side of it. You look up at the trees and the sky, eyes scoping around for any harpies hanging around. After deeming that you were alone, you begin making your way to the lake, Ambrose walking by your side attentively and cautiously to make sure you are safe.

The night was clear; the stars and especially the moon shone brightly in the sky. You sigh softly, taking in the stillness of the night, admiring the glistening lake reflecting the full moon placed above it. You’ve always enjoyed how quiet and cool the nights were, preferring it more than the daytime.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid it as much as you wish to. Most of your siblings can agree with you that they’d prefer to sleep in most days so that they can study and practice their magic at night. However, that wasn’t the schedule of the Hermes Cabin. It was pretty impossible to sleep in since the mornings were always hectic. In fact, the cabin was just hectic, period. There was always something going on, whether it was an elaborate prank or the guys arguing over who gets to shower first after coming back from training which usually resulted in an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. You can’t say that you didn’t like it; at least you were entertained.

You also always had someone to talk to, and because there were often new campers coming in and out of there, you have easily familiarized yourself with a lot of the kids at camp. However, like your mother, you did enjoy and yearn for the occasional periods of solitude. As fun as living with the Hermes kids was, you and your siblings did find yourselves getting a little irritable at their shenanigans. It was at those times, you did wish that your mother, Hecate, had a designated cabin.

You and your siblings had always said if they ever got a cabin of their own, they would make sure everyone had separate rooms and would have designated spaces to socialize and practice their magic so that it was quiet for the most part. Alabaster, especially, was really passionate about this topic. He complained how it didn’t make sense that your mother wasn't recognized since you and your siblings were a powerful little bunch. You all needed a space to practice your magic and practice preferably at night since you were the most powerful at that time of day; you were also less prone to making mistakes in your spell casting at night. You agreed with him and would get upset about it sometimes, but the Hermes Cabin was a place you considered to be a second home. The communal feel of the space was something you enjoyed, it was one of the few places where you felt fully accepted which was rare to find being a demi-god with abilities like yours. In return to the Hermes Cabin welcoming you with open arms, you accept the inconveniently loud environment as an admirable quirk and went on with your days.

Then to compensate for the lack of silence and solitude, you would often stay up late, taking advantage of the quiet to focus on your studies. Even if you had to sacrifice the amount of sleep you got, you felt like it was worth it.

It doesn’t take you long to arrive at the dock, sitting down close to the end with your legs folded under you. You first collect lake water in a jar before carefully taking out the pouch's crystals. Assuming you had only a few left in the pouch after laying most of them on the dock, you tilt it with your hand under it, only for the crystals to come out all at once. You fumble, hands trying to bring them to your chest, but with your luck, one of your crystals falls right into the water with a plop.

“Dammit!” You peer over the edge and groan, Ambrose whining at your misfortune as he stands beside you. You look down at the water, noticing Ambrose’s and your dim reflection in it. There was no way you could get that crystal now because you didn't know how to swim, and you consider that maybe tomorrow you can convince your twin brother, Atticus, to look for it or Alabaster if Atticus refused, which you were expecting him to.

Your breath hitches at the back of your throat, jumping back as a head of dark hair abruptly pops up from right where you were staring. Ambrose barks loudly next to you, equally as startled, and your eyes widen. You stand up hastily at the realization that Ambrose's loud barks in the dead of night will catch the attention of the harpies, and right now, that was more important to you than the mysterious person that just sprouted up in the water like a zombie coming out of a grave.

“Shush! Ambrose, quiet!” Your frantic command was enough to make him stop with a whine, and you sigh shakily, turning towards the camp to check if there were any harpies.

“I think you dropped something.” Ambrose moves in front of you protectively, a low growl coming from his chest as he cautiously studies the person. You look back where the voice came from and to your surprise and your relief, you find that the mysterious person in the lake was no other than Percy Jackson. You never had a conversation with him before, but you definitely knew about him. It was kind of hard not to know who he is since he’s been the talk of the camp since he’s arrived. Your thoughts about him weren’t any different from most of the camp. You’ve seen him fight and use his powers during capture the flag, and you were just as impressed as everyone else. You did have to admit that you found him to be pretty cute too. His eyes were gorgeous, clear, and bright like a shallow, cyanic sea. You also found it adorable how his hair always looked a little disheveled.

Your (e/c) eyes met Percy’s green ones before looking at your rose quartz in his hand. You smile sheepishly, noticing the amused look on his face.

“Ah, yeah, that’s mine.” You walk over to him, but as you get closer, so does Ambrose, and his growls get louder. "Ambrose, heel. It's okay," you say softly, and he stops in his place, but his stance is still at alert, his eyes watching Percy cautiously. You pat Ambrose's head before walking past him and over to Percy. "Thanks," you smile, taking your rose quartz from his hand.

"No problem… I don't think your ghost dog likes me," Percy jokes, moving to look past your legs at Ambrose, who’s standing tall on your left side.

"Yeah, well, you kinda scared the crap out of us," you point out, amused. You take in Percy's goofy smile as he pulls himself up from the water, and you notice that he’s completely dry as he settles on the edge before turning his body to look at you.

“It’s y/n, right?” He asks, and you nod, figuring he’s probably heard about you in passing from Connor and Travis since he was friends with them too. “What are you doing out here so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you retort playfully, making him smile. You move to sit down where you were standing. You spread the crystals neatly on the wood, making a mental note to get them before you go to bed.

"I couldn't sleep, so I came out here to hang out, but then a hippocampus swam up. One of its friends got stuck in a fisher's net not too far from here, so I went to help," he explains, and you nod. "I told you my excuse, so what's yours?"

You hum, "It's a full moon out tonight, so I thought I should take my crystals out. I also needed moon water for a potion, so I collected some for that," you point over at the big mason jar full of lake water. "It’s not as cool as your excuse,” you say playfully.

A short laugh comes from Percy, and when you look up from your crystals, you notice he was looking at Ambrose again, who was still in his tense stance. Ambrose was especially protective of you and Atticus, and it wasn’t unusual for him to be cautious of the new people you come across. You assumed that Ambrose was particularly tense with Percy since he had successfully caught you both by surprise.

"Ambrose, relax.” You pat the top of his head to soothe him. "Lay down." Ambrose whines, licking your hand affectionately for a little, and you can tell he was still uneasy about the other. He was hesitant, but he follows your command anyway, laying down with his head on your lap.

"You can touch him?" Percy asks, his eyes wide and curious as he watches you pet Ambrose.

"Yeah, I can touch ghosts in general. My mother is Hecate, goddess of necromancy, along with magic, the night and the moon," you tell him. "This is Ambrose. My mother gifted him to me to be my familiar, kinda like a guardian." You look down at the hound, smiling softly as you scratch behind his ear softly.

Ambrose is a burly Molossian Hound who lived in the time of Alexander The Great. From what your father told you, his breed was well valued in Ancient Greek and Roman times and was often used in war. It is easy to understand why the breed was used in war. Ambrose is huge and muscular, about 6 feet tall when he stands on his hind legs, and he weighs around 200 pounds. At first, Ambrose can come off as a little intimidating. You remember how your siblings had avoided him when you first arrived at camp before they realized that he was the clearest definition of a gentle giant. Even though he was trained to fight when he was alive, he was still as gentle as a well-trained house dog unless he was given a reason not to be.

"When did you get him?" Percy asks, his eyes focusing on Ambrose’s translucent body that looked like it is made up of this gray swirling vapor. He couldn’t exactly wrap his head around how Ambrose’s head was comfortably propped up on your thigh.

"We met on the night I was on my way to Camp so about 2 years ago. Without him, my brother and I probably would have never made it to the borders.” You look up at Percy, meeting his eyes again; you watch as his face softens as he shifts to lean back on his hand.

"Really?" You hum and nod, ready to drop the conversation there, thinking you shouldn’t bore him with the details. You didn’t really like talking about it much, but the way he was looking at you made you feel like he was inviting you to continue talking.

"We got separated from our father at the gas station a couple of miles away from here. He went inside the convenience store to get us snacks, and while he was in there, a cyclops had found us, tried to grab us out of his car. We jumped out and ran into the woods nearby," you explain as you look out at the dark horizon.

You remember the sound of your father yelling after you and Atticus and how it broke your heart hearing, for the first time, such despair in his voice. You knew your dad didn’t want to bring you guys to camp, but he knew it was in Atticus’s and your best interest to come here and be with other people like you guys.

When you and Atticus started developing your powers, your father had simply told you guys that you were special and to refrain from using your telekinesis anywhere else but home. He didn’t say anything more until one night, you and Atticus had gotten in a screaming match about a reason you don’t even remember. However, in your screaming match, the both of you were so angry that a green aura had formed around you both, and books, magazines, even cutlery were being flown across the room because of the sheer energy you were admitting as a unit. It was then your father had decided to take you and Atticus to the camp to control and learn about your powers before you guys destroyed the house over a dumb argument like who’s turn is it to have the TV remote.

"We were more concerned about the monster hurting our dad, so we decided on a whim to run in the forest. My brother and I have telekinesis powers, and I aimed well enough to send a rock right at the cyclops eye. We lost him a little after that, but we didn't know where we were. We made too many twists and turns; we had no idea what direction we came from. And then, this buddy appeared out of nowhere from a distance. I saw him glowing from far away and couldn’t make out what he was, but I felt that I had to follow him. So we did, and he got us to camp with no detours for any other monsters. He's been with me ever since," you say, and a low whine comes from Ambrose’s mouth as he nuzzles the side of his face on your thigh contentedly.

Percy nods, and he huffs softly, "You guys got lucky. How old were you and your brother when you got to camp?"

"12, we're twins. We actually got here a couple of weeks after you did,” you mention. You watch Percy’s mouth curve into a half-smirk.

“Wow," he says, amused, and shakes his head. “So you have a twin and a dead dog, no fair," he jokes. You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully,

"Oh please, and you have crazy water powers. You’re completely dry after swimming! I think that's pretty envy-worthy."

"Hey-,” he shrugs, taking a second as if to form a protest. “I guess you're right,” he admits and laughs. You laugh with him, opening your mouth to say something else but unfortunately, you were interrupted by a screech echoing in the distance.

Both you and Percy stand up quickly, trying to figure out which direction it came from. “The harpies,” you both mutter in unison. You bend down to grab your things, and you look at Ambrose.

"Go distract them, bud," you tell him, and Ambrose jumps up to his feet, and you watch as he runs away, barking to get their attention. Just then, you see the wings of the Harpies coming up from the trees of the forest. You turn to Percy, grabbing his hand quick,

“Incantare: Transpectus!" You exclaim confidently, closing your eyes to envision you and Percy becoming transparent on the dock. You've never tried doing this spell before, but you've gotten better at visualizing and setting intentions, so you had some hope in yourself. You open your eyes, not feeling any different, and you hoped that you just didn't make a fool of yourself in front of Percy. But when you look down at your hand hesitantly and notice it was hard to make out since you were see-through like glass, you sigh in relief. You smile to yourself, more than satisfied that you were able to pull that off.

"Woah, are we invisible?" You look over at Percy, able to see him just fine since he was under the spell with you. Percy looks down at himself, eyes widened as he processes he can’t see his body anymore. You observe him for a second, finding it cute how he looked surprised and obviously entertained at the fact that he was completely see-through. You feel yourself growing a little flustered, trying not to focus too much on the fact that you were holding hands with him.

"Something like that. C'mon, it won’t last too long," you whisper, and your grip around his hand tightens as you guys begin running to his cabin. You hear the harpies screeching in frustration as they swoop down to try and grab Ambrose, only for their claws to go right through him. While the harpies were growing more annoyed, Ambrose, on the other hand, was having way too much fun, running in circles and barking at them as if he’s teasing.

"Man, I wish I had a ghost dog," you hear Percy mutter behind you as you arrive at the steps of his cabin.

"Yeah, Ambrose is pretty great," you admit, watching him play with the harpies before shifting your gaze over to Percy. "Thanks for getting the crystal for me." As much as you wanted to stay talking to him, you knew you couldn't stay too long. You were still eager to finish studying, and Ambrose can only hold off the harpies for so long.

"It was no problem. It was on my way up anyways," he shrugs, and you smile, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You look down, the two of you still holding hands even though the spell wore off already. You awkwardly let go of his hand, shifting on your feet.

"Well, I'll see you around," you say sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers.

"Yeah, I'll see you.” His hand comes up in an awkward wave. You nod, returning the wave. Your eyes meet Percy’s green ones one more time before turning on your heels and walking down the steps of his cabin. You notice that Ambrose is now long gone into the forest, taking the harpies with him to give you time to rush to the other side where your cabin is.

As you hurry back to your cabin, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you replayed the interaction you just had with Percy, and you couldn't help but wonder when would be the next time you could talk to him.

You carefully hoist yourself up, climb back into the cabin through the window, sighing softly once you get in. You slowly close the window, your face scrunching at the creaking sound, but you successfully get it closed before turning around, only to be faced with Connor Stoll standing a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest. You gasp loudly, almost dropping the mason jar in your hand, being startled for the second time tonight.

“Oh, look who’s back,” he says, his lips pulled in his usual mischievous smirk, his right eyebrow raised as if he's suspicious of you. You shift, giggling nervously under his graze,

"Hey, Con.” Shit. You knew he wasn’t asleep, and a part of you wasn’t surprised that he had caught you sneaking out again. You weren’t too worried since Connor wasn’t one to be strict or easily angered, neither was Travis, but you can understand if he did get a little upset with you since the cabin could also get in trouble, and he worried about you getting hurt.

"You leave so often, I'm starting to think you're seeing someone," he teases, and you furrow your eyebrows, not really sure what he was trying to get at.

"I'm not seeing anyone. You know what I do when I sneak out," you tell him, putting your hand out to show him the jar full of water. After being caught the first couple of times, you had explained to Connor why you occasionally needed to head out at night. He was understanding of your reasons, telling you to try and not sneak out as often. When he did catch you, he always kept your outings secret. It came with a price, though. You were sometimes stuck doing extra chores, especially anything that had to do with cleaning, since he hated doing anything that had to do with mopping or sweeping.

"So that wasn't you and Percy on the dock?" Your eyes widen, and you feel your face get hot again. You shake your head, stumbling over your words for a second.

"Uh… n- that was a coincidence!" You hear him snort, laughing quietly as if he didn't believe you. Even though he couldn't see your facial expression very well in this lighting, he can still tell how flustered you were at his sudden question.

"Yeah, sure," he says sarcastically, and he hums, "Anyways, what are you going to do for me so that I don't tell on you?" He asks, and your mouth drops open. Usually, he wasn't so forward, and he never threatened to tell on you. "I might spread a rumor about you and Percy rendezvousing at midnight. The Aphrodite cabin will have a hoot with that one."

You gasp, "Connor, are you blackmailing me right now?" You narrow your eyes at him, and he shrugs,

"I guess you can say I am." You shake your head, walking over to your desk to put down your moon water before turning toward him and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"... what do you want?" You ask, expecting him to make you take up one of his chores. But from the way he was smiling at you, you can tell that there was something more he wanted, and you were beginning to worry.

"Help me turn the Ares Cabin into bunnies," he says, and you shake your head frantically,

"No way! Clarisse will kill me," you whisper. Connor smiles,

"No, she won't. She can't kill you if she's a bunny," he points out, and your face falls flat,

"They're not gonna stay bunnies forever," you say, and you fiddle with your fingers nervously at the idea of the outrage you'd get from the Ares Cabin after shifting back from being bunnies. "I don't know, Con. I don't even know if I can turn all of them into bunnies at once."

Connor waves his hand at you, dismissing your concern. "I don't care for the logistics now. We can work on that later, but you have to agree to at least help me," he says. "Or I'm telling everyone I saw you smooching Percy on the dock."

"What!? We didn't even kiss. We talked for like 5 minutes!" You whisper-yell, your reactions much too entertaining for him, and he was having a hard time holding in his laugh.

"Your decision, y/n."

You sigh, throwing your head back. You look at the ceiling for a second as you consider your two choices. And you decide that getting your head potentially put on a stick by Clarisse was better than the burning embarrassment of Percy thinking you're spreading rumors about kissing him. "Fine, whatever. I'll help you do the bunny thing," you mumble, your shoulders slouched.

Connor nods with a proud smile on his face for trapping you into helping him. "Good choice. I will be going back to sleep now. Good night… again," he announces, turning on his heels and walking over to his bed. You frown a little as you walk back to your desk to study. Plopping down onto your chair, you decide that you’ll worry about Connor’s little plan later so you can focus on your studying. After a while, Ambrose comes trotting in, joining you by the desk as usual. You smile at him, praising the other for distracting the harpies for you before he lays down, his head laying on your foot.

As you study, you find that you couldn’t help your mind drifting back to Percy once and a while. You deem that there was no way that you could have a crush on him since you guys have only spoken once. In the midst of your internal debate to decide what you felt for him, you suddenly remember the crystal that was retrieved for you. You remember how Percy presented it to you, holding it out for you with his fingertips. It was your rose quartz. What a coincidence. You smile, rolling your eyes as you tell yourself that you’re thinking too much into it. You look over, noticing the dim illuminating light of the beginning sunrise shining through the curtains. You sigh, deciding that you should probably get to sleep and take advantage of the maybe, four hours of sleep you’ll get tonight. You close your herbology book before making your way to your bed, and with a soft sigh, you retreat under the covers, and finally, you surrender to your drowsiness.

masterlist

#percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #connor stoll #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson fic #slow burn #friends to lovers #connor stoll x reader #percy jackson oneshot #pjo #my writing

[simminggiraffe]

Mix-n-match medieval men

Time for a default dump! And an ungodly amount of rambling! You’re welcome!

Elders use the adult shape for everything. This is a general rule for anything related to elder men by me.

cutopshortsleevecollar (set to M only), tmtopshortsleevecollar,   amtopshortsleevecollar, amtopshirtpolo and emtopshortsleevecollar replaced with Andravi’s Ren, Tate & Blake as tops by Winter on Silivain’s top-only alpha tunic. Most ages get 15 recolours, am gets 17. The extra 2 are the only 2 tops in the ‘Blake’ style. I combined some duplicate textures to reduce the file size, beyond the usual texture referencing I always do. (Actually now that I think of it, I haven’t released any of those... I have a backlog because I’m lazy with previews, but I want you to at least see what you’re getting.)

There were quite a few unused recolours so get more of em here if you wanna :)))))

More previews of the defaults under the cut + the download.

tmtopnaked,  amtoptanktop and  emtopdressshirt replaced with some of AlmightyHat’s Aelia Autumn recolours of FantasyRogue’s top-only tunic. There’s 9 recolours for am, 8 for em, and 6 for tm. I’ve also included a ‘completer’ for tm, meaning the 3 recolours I didn’t use in the defaults, plus the corresponding child recolours since they’re repository. I recommend checking Hat’s post out for even more colours if you like an abundance of choice!

tmbottomboardshorts,  tmbottomkneeshorts,  ambottomlongshorts and embottomlongshorts, also known as “all shorts” for tm-em replaced with @vampirekiss6661′s multi-boot bottoms, specifically the ArisSkirt recolours. All ages get 9 recolours.

FYI, @asimplevampire​ has already defaulted ambottomlongshorts over here. I do like them, but I like the idea of having all the shorts defaulted together better. Also I straight up forgot.

tmbottompantscuffsboots,  tmbottomtightpantspointytoe,  ambottompants,  ambottomwillpants and embottompantssocksshoes replaced with @vampirekiss6661′s multi-boot bottoms, this time the Rogue version. All 6 original recolours get used, and all ages get 6 recolours. Thanks to rudhira for the default package I used as a base.

tmbottomcargopants and ambottomcargopants replaced with (you guessed it!) the final version of @vampirekiss6661′s multi-boot bottoms - ArisJacket. 4 recolours for am (enabled for em) and 5 for tm - they get Gold as the extra.

DOWNLOAD LINK: SFS (19.2 MB)

Delete the “unmerged” folders if you want all the defaults. There can only be one! Which are unmerged are a bit random but make sense to my scatterbrain. I use the merged packages but figured that since they exist I might as well let you have the choice.

The files are compressorized, there are text files with info (chaotic info, but still), and even previews included (gasp!). I decided to keep the meshes in separate packages, but they’re included.

I used at least @ello-sims, @rudhira and @lottie-sims‘ default packages as a base for mine, but I didn’t think to note down exactly whose packages I uses for which until literally the last one I did. Sorry. I didn’t extract any resources for this project. Just a buttload of clicking and double checking my progress and making sure everything works. I also colour coordinated the shortsleevecollar defaults for some reason. I think I did it so I wouldn’t be lost, but who knows honestly. What am I, a mind reader?!

Yeah thanks to everyone whose work I relied on, one day I hope to be able make my own meshes and textures. That day is far away.

#sims 2 #my defaults #sims 2 defaults #ts2 defaults

[riofann]

Rio Random 4

Things got a lot better after that, to your surprise. But you had both decided that you were basically going to do a redo and actively  work on your relationship. It was a bit difficult at first. But you felt better when you saw Mick removing drugs from your house. He also got you a security system that you could look at from your phone to see who has been in and around the house. You didn’t smell Beth around your house as often either. You actually didn't hear much about Beth, as far as you were concerned things were being dealt with.   

Rio would stop by two times a week at least on top of dates breakfast, lunch, brunch, dinner, or dessert. He was a romantic at heart actually, you would find flowers at home or at work sitting on your desk. He often used to look at you and smile which made you blush. You also met Marcus and Rhea one night at a state fair. Rhea was like Rio, hard to read you could see why the two ended up together. All together your relationship was far from perfect but you could honestly say you were happy. 

One late afternoon you rushed home from work. Rio had sent you a text saying he had left a present for you. He often did this when he found lingerie that he liked and wanted you to wear it. Some dates he had dressed you from head to toe, others he provided the undergarments. Not that your taste was bad but he enjoyed doing this. 

When you open the door to your home you hear voices coming from the bottom of your house before you could turn around and walk away you come face to face with a strange woman. 

“Uh hi” Ruby greets uneasily 

“Who are you?” You ask 

“Uh Krystal”

Quickly Beth comes around the corner “Oh Y/N I was just ummm....”

You close your door now pissed, what are you doing in my house. Mick had moved all the drugs from your home, Rio had promised you nothing was left in your house. You looked around to see your house in disarray before turning your attention back to Beth  and these other women.

“Oh well Rio wanted me to drop off something”

“Did he? Inside my house? He doesn’t even have a key, so how’d you get in?” 

“Well Mick helped with that” “Okay what are you dropping off” 

“Uh,” “Right let me just give him a call I’m sure he would love to hear about this”

“NO! Let's not bother him you know he is busy right Be... be be because he wouldn't like that right Krys?” Annie interjects

“Or should I call the police?”

Without warning Beth pulled out her gun and pointed it at you

“What are you doing?” Ruby asked in horror 

“Alright Sit” she says motioning with the gun 

“Are you gonna tell me what you're doing here in my house Elizabeth?”

Instinctively the two women looked at her as she looked shocked as well “How did you?” 

“Elizabeth Boland, you have  5 children with your ex husband Dean right? Used to be a stay at home wife? Did I get that right?” 

“SIT!” she demands “No, what are you gonna do? shoot me?”

“SIT!” she turns to look at Annie and Ruby before turning her attention back to you “Who told you?” 

“Oh uh Mrs. Doubtfire...  Yea i was stopping by to give you that book i borrowed and she said there was no such thing as Krystal had no idea what i was talking about then she told me everything”

“That damn woman” 

“SIT!” 

“NO!  If you're gonna point a gun at me then I expect you to shoot.” 

Ruby tugs at her arm “Beth lets just go” “NO ITS HERE” she yells while yanking her arm back  “you think you are so special, that's what he does you know. Make you feel special then he just dumps you like you're nothing!”

“But I’m not you Beth, and i'm not Rio, so whatever you're looking for its not here and whatever beef you have take it up with him”

“I SAID SIT!” 

“I'm not deaf i don't know why you're yelling” 

“Beth” Annie tries to calm the situation Beth with a bewildered look turns to look at Annie “NO!”

“This is bad” Ruby comments 

“You can't just threaten her life because of some guy....Beth” Annie states  

“I am not all I need her to do is sit Annie!....I know that it’s here it just has to be...” 

As they argued within themselves you felt like it was the perfect opportunity to sneak away as you got close to the door. You turned abruptly to open it when you heard commotion followed by  sharp pain on your side, you looked down to see blood seeping through your clothes. You slowly fall to the floor back resting against the wall. 

“OH MY GOD BETH!” “SHE WAS GETTING AWAY” she defends “HE IS GOING TO KILL US” Annie states looking at her sister like she had 5 heads “I’M SO SORRY Y/N” she says rushing towards you 

“YOU BITCH” You kick her in the chest causing her to fall back, you groan and hold onto your side 

“This isn't good please don't kick me none of this was supposed to happen” Ruby says slowly crouching down next to you

“Put pressure on it” Annie instructs

“I need towels!” 

“It's gonna be okay” Ruby tries her best to sooth you “I can't believe you” 

“I didn't” Beth says while holding onto your wound

Annie rushed back with towels in hand

“Uh guys we have to take her to the hospital” You don’t know when it happens but you start to fade away “Y/N! Can you stand?” “Y/N!” Annie calls your name “she's not... Y/N stay awake 

“What's wrong with you?” Ruby scolds

“What? Ruby..” 

“Why are you trigger happy”

“It was an accident, help me get her in the car!” 

“Well we can't go out the front door”

“Then help me get her through the fucking back door Annie”

“Oh my god” Annie says throwing her hands up 

When 30 minutes pass Rio is beyond infuriated with you. You were not picking up his calls or answering his texts and from what he knew you were at home.He doesn’t  know why you flaked on him, he thinks you were in a drunken slumber wondering how you got back into it, you had shown signs of improvement. 

When he gets to your house however he opens the door, he hears Coconut’s barking and he immediately spots the pool of blood by the door

“Go find her is all he needs to say to Mick”  

He walks through your home, there were multiple holes cut in your walls, holes in the cushion seat on the couch, furniture overturned. When he walks into the bedroom everything is in disarray just like the living area. Carefully he walks down the steps and spots your bag. He thinks you were ambushed. His mind goes into overdrive and is thinking of who would have the gull to do such a thing as far as he was concerned everyone knew enemy wise especially in this line of business that children and wives/girlfriends were out of the question. So whoever had the gull to do such a thing was bold and he’s wondering who it could be. He makes a few calls before he’s sitting in front of your laptop trying to log in. another phone call and he’s given the password. When he looks through the security footage nothing but rage takes over. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After pacing the floor in silence Ruby explodes with emotion “He is going to kill us!” 

“He doesn't know where we are” Beth counters

“I have a child Beth and I need to call Stan and let him know what’s going on!” 

“So do I Ruby, I have 5 to be exact,  he wont do anything she's just a placeholder anyway”

Ruby looks at her in disbelief “Are you kidding me he broke up with YOU to be with HER she is no placeholder”

“She's not special he can find another woman  like her anytime soon” Beth states dismissively 

“Beth i don't like this you need to call him and tell him it was a  mistake” Annie jumps into the conversation 

“Relax he doesn't know where we are he’s not stupid plus Dean will throw his ass in jail”

Putting her hands up Ruby states “I can’t believe you” before she walks away A brief moment of silence before Beth’s phone starts ringing

When they all look at the phone only unknown flashes through the screen after the 5th time the screen is black for good

“Elizabeth please for our sake just tell him” Ruby pleads “we can’t be hidden forever” 

“NO! Now shut up and let me think!” 

“Or what you're gonna shoot me” Ruby expresses frustrated 

“It was an accident!” 

Ruby scoffs, “Like shooting him too? I'm starting to think you’re trigger happy”

“Don't start accusing me you shot someone in the foot!” 

“That was an accident! We all know it was, but you just can't let this life go huh. You can't let this power go so whoever stands in your way you're gonna get rid of them” 

Beth walked up to Ruby looking at her right in the eye “You're right so move out of my way” she didn't have time to be arguing with her so if that meant intimidating her she would. 

Annie quickly got between the two and separated them. “Guys i cant right now please not now, i can't deal with this, we just need to stick together” 

Beth was right Rio couldn't locate them at first but he had found you. You were in the surgical icu stabilizing after your surgery. Because you were considered a Jane Doe no one was really allowed to see you, but Rio had his connections and he walked in to see you fast asleep before walking out. He says nothing as Mick drives him over to Beth’s house. Nothing was out of the ordinary except Beth was missing. He also had other cars posted outside of Ruby’s house and Annie's. 

“Aii bet” he hangs up the phone irritated that no one could locate Beth, she had become a protégé, so good at hiding things from him now. 

"You gon’ have to get rid of her” Mick states before looking at Rio,  “She shot you, planned your assassination," he scoffs "stolen, sabotaged, lied, how much more you gon let her get away with"

“I cant get rid of her, if i do i gotta deal with the other 2, not to mention the stupid ass husbands that's almost 10 kids in foster care, too much heat its bad for business now anyway, plus I'm still under the microscope cuz of Turner” 

“Both can’t co exist  though, so you either with Beth or you with Y/N.”

“Fuck me”

“Gotta make a move boss”

“Ima figure something out” 

It takes 2 days but he finally locates them. Abruptly woken from their sleep and thrown in a van they find themselves in an unknown place, kneeling in front of him, with plastic bags underneath them. 

“Please i have children” Beth tries to plead her case 

Rio’s shoulders roll back before he speaks “Nah see you can’t keep doing that mama, you can't keep provoking me and asking for mercy cuz you got kids.”

“I'm a mother, they need their mother!”

“Please Rio” Ruby interjects 

“See that's the problem, I hoped you being a mother, you would actually be more careful but I get it now. You just wanna be reckless and use me as your cover. Shoot me 3 times it's my fault. Steal my fault, lie my fault, plot to kill me my fault" his shoulders roll "what was Y/N’s fault why you shoot her?" Already knowing the answer he wanted to see what she would  say 

"She knows my name I know you told her"

"She's my girl"

"Right just like I was but unlike her you can't replace me you need me!” 

"Humor me Beth, are you jealous?" 

Beth scoffs “of what?"  

"Y/N"

She scoffs again "you wish! You probably get off knowing 2 women want you" 

He licks his bottom lip and smiles. It takes a minute before he speaks “So what should i do with you, all of you? I know I’m tired of this game, we’ve been playing it for too long. Aint y’all tired of wondering if im gon kill you?” He asks addressing Annie and Ruby

“Please I promise to walk away” Annie offers 

“Annie shut up!” Beth scolds 

“NO! YOU SHUT UP BETH GOD YOU ARE SELFISH! ALWAYS HAVE BEEN!” 

“Annie I’m trying to....” Before she can finish she stops after she hears her phone ringing  

Rio looks down at the phone “Talk it out I gotta take this call” he says before walking away 

The girls don’t say anything but look at each other. When they see him return Beth comments “I got this let me speak.” waiting for him to sit down before she begins “You can’t kill us and you know it. So you can run back to your little girlfriend and kiss her wound and tell her she's special and I'll go back to doing my thing” she says snidely Both Annie and Ruby looked at her shocked.

“She is, it could have been you but the 3 bullets kinda changed my mind”

“OH MY GOD! Can you let that go!”

“I did then I found out you hired a hitman and some kid to shoot me. Things change all the time between us,  you know this”

“So what are you gonna do? Because we have work to do”

“I know.” He nods at the men behind them. The zip ties are cut before he walks away “I’ll see you around yea?”

When he leaves they all look at each other shocked that he even let them walk away. They remain in that position until all the men leave. 

“See I told you!”

“I can’t do this Beth you need some serious help and I’m not willing to wager my family as collateral for it”  Ruby states “It worked” “For you! Not for us, you think it's just a one woman show where you do everything? Like your actions don’t have any effect on our lives'' “Ruby it worked I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it” “Yea well better that than you” 

Annie interjects once again  before things get heated “Guys can we just figure out how to get home”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So what now?” Mick asks frustrated with the whole thing. “She still working for you?”  he knew the pattern all too well Beth would do something to get back at Rio 

“Nah we moving, leaving Michigan, getting new headquarters. She wanna run the business? Cool, but no protection, no muscle, no supply of weapons, no connections, yea she can print money but she can’t operate or deal, not without me. Make sure everyone knows if they entertain her they are dead. I don’t care what it is if I find out I’m putting a bounty on your head. She right though I can’t kill her but i can kill her business” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a few days but when you regain consciousness in the hospital you see one of Rio’s men at least you’re assuming he is sitting by you. You two don’t speak and you go back to sleep. The next day police stop by to question you about your shooting, you tell them the story Rio’s guy told you, a home invasion gone wrong. They leave satisfied with the explanation. Rio comes to visit a few days after  you have been moved to a step down unit that was more private.

The door opens and you watch as he walks in “Rio”

Hey mama he approaches you with hands behind his back and as he gets closer a cute teddy bear that has ‘get well soon on it’ 

“How you feeling?”  he asks taking a seat next to you on the bed 

“I got shot” you state factually

“You got shot” he says moving the hair from your face 

“Where have you been? The cops came to see me”

“I know they stopped by, I was handling something. Did you tell them what Honcho told you to say?”

“Yes” 

He smiles and looks at you with a face you can’t quite read

“So where is she?” 

You were hoping he would say dead in a ditch somewhere or something along the lines of ‘you never have to worry about her’ but what he said made you more angry

“At home”

“She's alive?”

“Yea” 

You roll your eyes, was she gonna be thorn on your side for the rest of your life with Rio? “But she won’t bother you” “Yea said that last time and now i have a bullet hole on my side that says otherwise” “Nah she won’t be able to reach you this time cuz we leaving, after you get discharged” 

“What? You want me to move?” 

“Yea,we can...”  You interrupt "There's no we anymore, you're like a bad omen. In less than a year since  i met you I get shot and now i have a bullet wound because of your unhinged ex that you couldn't keep in check and you still think there's a 'we' " 

“I told you,” he runs his hand down his chin “i asked you to be patient” he speaks softly 

“Be patient, meant with you! So you could change not ‘be patient, my crazy ex who i can't control will shoot you months from now but i still need you to understand” you say sarcasm laced in your tone 

“Y/N” “You told me to treat you like any other guy on the street, so I am. We are done!” 

“You can't stay here” he stresses “Why not?” “Beth isn’t my only enemy, and once she finds out my plans she will go to them for revenge” 

“So where are we going? I have a career here! Aunt Brenda and Mia, my parents, I visit their graves often”  

“They can come visit you, You can always get another job, it’s not safe for you here Y/N”

“Was it ever safe? Didn’t you have enemies before? Was I not in danger then” 

“This is different, Beth is vengeful I can’t risk it” 

“Where are we going?” 

“I can't tell you, not now I’m still figuring that out” 

“Typical” “Listen i'm packing up your house I’m gonna get you a new place in a new city you'll get a job” 

“Rio are you kidding me you want me to just up and leave?” “Yea,” he stands up and looks down at you  “it’s non negotiable, i gotta protect you, after you get discharged we leaving” 

“Protect me? From who? The only person I need protection from is you. Rein que le diable (nothing but the devil)” 

He stares at you for a moment  “get some rest” he says before kissing your forehead. He didn’t care about how you felt in the moment protecting you, Marcus, and Rhea were his top priority and he knew that always came with push back no matter who he was talking to.

A/N: as always tell me what you think. Not really a fan of this chapter didn’t know how to go around it. 

#Manny Montana #rio x you #Brio #rio x reader #good girls nbc #nbc rio good girls #nbc good girls fic #nbc good girls #rio good girls #rio x beth #beth boland

[stuckylibrary]

Group Ask 184

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Please send us an ask stating which group ask and which person you are replying to. Thank you so much in advance!

arosetintedem said:

I NEED HELP! I'm looking for a fic and you guys are the best at finding them. So it is a fic where bucky is like put in stark tower i think post -tws. at one point he is in the shower and JARVIS refuses to make the temp too high. He also comunicates that hydra is in SHIELD by using morse code! If you know it lmk!

Anon 1 said:

hi! I’m looking for a fic where Steve is Becca’s roommate and is Bucky’s sex friend, it’s ABO, and Steve is bottom and they go to a link party, Bucky calls Steve kitten and then Steve gets pregnant and beg Bucky to call their kid James ? Steve is diabetic and Bucky is really protective of him because of that. I really can’t find it anymore it’s annoying, thank you c:

Anon 2 said:

Hi, I for the life of me can not remember the name of a fic. It is super similar to Yours to Keep by nonsensicalbelle. The team is captured somewhere and separated from Steve and forced to watch as Steve reveals fears/secrets something along that line until he is then forced to admit he is in love with Bucky. Hopefully this ask is coherent enough. Thanks for any help in advance.

Anon sent in Always Afraid, Always Ashamed* by CaptainDean13 (complete | 11,052 | E) *graphic violence

Anon 3 said:

Hi I'm looking for a fic where Natasha and Tony are listening to a phone conv between Steve and Bucky flirting, then it becomes sexual and Bucky reveals he knew they were listening all along? Also Tony was surprised that steve got into it so easily and I think nat was kinda turned on? Thanks so much!

gayghostkid said:

hey!! i’m looking for a post-WS recovery fic. steve brings bucky in w/ the help of sam and nat. they end up in a safe house of sorts. details i remember: sam hoses bucky down to get him clean. steve and sam are shocked that he actually liked the feeling, describing how blissful he looks. i remember the end few chapters has the quartet living in a firehouse in texas, or another southern state. the chapter titles were similar to maslow’s hierarchy of needs : shelter, food, water, etc. merci!!

shadowobsidian said:

Hello! I'm looking for a fic that I read forever and a half ago. It's a post -winter soldier Stucky story with Bucky coming back to the tower, but still PTSD-y, and unable to really eat because he keeps throwing up and Bruce keeps trying to make him nutrition shakes and smoothies but they don't really help, and then they realize that it's all the chemicals in processed food so the whole tower goes organic and Tony buys a farm. Please help me!

Anon and drjezdzany sent in Thawed Out* by auburnnothenna (auburn), eretria (complete | 159,341 | E) *chose not to warn

Anon 4 said:

I'm looking for this fic where skinny Steve somehow ended up with the winter soldier and post serum Steve is with 1930s Bucky I think time traveling was involved? They were gonna go back to their correct timeline but feelings got involved so they stayed in the wrong time this is badly explained sorry

Anon 5 said:

You know the fic where is centered around the barnes family rebecca was a lesbian and married a gay guy to cover it up Bucky got into college but dropped out because Steve got sick

Anon sent in The History of a Family by boombangbing (complete | 225,954 | M)

slutforchrisevans said:

Hi! I’ve been trying to find this fic for the longest time and I can’t. I don’t remember much of it but it’s pre-serum Steve and before the war. Bucky comes home and he’s super horny because he took some medicine that’s supposed to give you energy i think? Steve is reluctant to do stuff though because bucky isn’t really in the right mind, but he’s not drunk it’s just the medicine. Sorry that was so vague but it’s literally all I remember :((

Anon sent in Up All Night by triedunture (oneshot | 3,598 | M)

idk-idc-idk said:

Hi! I’m looking for a modern AU I read. Steve is still captain america, and (I can’t remember if it’s hydra or shield) heavily controls his life. Bucky is secretly a modern winter soldier, and is sent to do surveillance on Steve. They meet at a boring gala, and Bucky decides to seduce Steve to get an upper hand. Bucky sees how much Steve’s life is controlled and it’s like Steve isn’t even his own person, like they want to bore him into obeying them. Steve switches sides but they come after him

deliveryisdelayed and stevenbirogers sent in Lessons in Normality by relenafanel (complete | 38,002 | E)

Anon 6 said:

Hello! I'm looking for a fic that featured Steve adjusting to the modern world's ideas about gender and sexuality, and him basically rejecting those ideas to be what people today would call genderqueer. I basically remember him wearing skirts and makeup, and it seemed to be heavily influenced by Gay New York by Chauncey.

Anon 7 said:

Hi!! There's this one fic where Bucky's this big mobster guy and Steve's in a gang and is always watching Bucky at this club. They meet up at this hotel and it has like a dom!bucky but top!steve. Thank you!

Anon 8 said:

Hi do you know of a fic where Natasha hires Steve to be an escort for Bucky at his family Christmas get together? I remember Nat was Bucky’s ex and Bucky’s cousin/relative was really homophobic. There was also a scene where Steve was shooting at beer cans and the cousin was impressed. Bucky and Steve ended up getting engaged like a year after. Thanks :)

Anon 9 said:

I read something a while back that I can’t find for the LIFE of me and I was wondering if you could help. Steve gets the serum and it shoots his libido through the roof and it he’s really out of hand and he needs shots and stuff to make his erection go away and bucky is a good friend and helps him out (I think, honestly I can’t remember a lot of details, it’s been a minute since I’ve read it) if you’d help I’d really appreciate it! Thank you!! Have a great day :)

Anon sent in you know I’d quench that thirst* by napricot (complete | 38,027 | E) */others

emilyshay said:

hi hi! i'm looking for a fic that i've read and i CANNOT put my finger on what it is. It has all these elements: - fury wants steve to pick some kind of companion, maybe a submissive of some sort, because he's been going rogue on missions and steve picks bucky out of a lineup because he looks "the worst" and would piss fury off - bucky is really down in he dumps and all he has to his name is his electric can opener  - bucky goes to some sort of intake interview thing, and he steals a lot of food from a buffet until someoen pities him and gives him a bag of food to take home - bucky is in steve's quarters right when he starts "working for" him and cooking for him and stuff, and steve completely ignores him and rejects him and bucky is really upset about it event hough he didn't want to be there - the payment for "working for" steve is getting a full ride to college and also a ton of cash. thank you!!!!

deliveryisdelayed and drjezdzany sent in Heart of Fools* by Claudia_flies (complete | 55,824 | E) *chose not to warn

#group asks

[cclementinee]

post-argument (booboo stewart)

“Fine! You know what, Booboo? You can take your stupid easel, your stupid canvas and fuck off!” You scream at your boyfriend, pushing him towards the door of your apartment. 

“Fine, you fucking psycho! All I wanted was some peace and quiet anyways!” He yells back, making you wince. Booboo never yelled at you, no matter how mad he was. He packs all of his supplies up quickly, which you’re thankful for so he doesn’t see the tears streaming silently down your face, and leaves. With a slam of the door, you’re alone. You sink down to the floor, sniffling as your cat saunters over, rubbing her body against you, almost like she knew what happened. One of your hands reaches down to pet her, the other wipes a stray tear from your cheek. You hated fighting with Booboo and he knew that, which is why his yelling and storming out both surprised and upset you even more. Was that the final straw? Did he not love you- want you- anymore? 

You sit, wallowing in your self pity for about an hour before you hear your phone ringing, you get up but miss it just before your hand grabs your phone. Your screensaver lights up with a notification from the man who’s smiling face was staring back at you. You call him back, he picks up on the first ring, “Y/N?” He asks, sounding hoarse, as if he’s also been crying for the last hour too. He asks you to come down to his studio and you agree, thinking it was a good sign that he didn’t want to break up, throwing on a sweatshirt and grabbing your keys. He hangs up without saying I love you and your heart drops. You can’t think of anything else the entire drive to his studio. This was it, this was his breaking point.

The sound of Elvis’ velvety voice flowing through the hallway of your boyfriend’s art studio was literal music to your ears. This was a good sign. You open the door to the room he was in quietly, being sure not to disturb him; you loved watching him paint. When you walked in, his back was facing you, he was wearing a mustard yellow hoodie and beige sweatpants, no shoes and his long dark brown hair was up in a bun. You tip-toed over to the small burgundy couch in the corner of the room, sitting down and pulling your legs up to your chest, watching him work. A few minutes pass before he turns to dip his brush in a new color, your presence making him jump. You give him a smile and stand, walking towards him. “Is this where you dump me?” you ask, looking down at your hands, fiddling with the gold ring embezzled with a small moon, he made it for you for your 2nd anniversary and you’ve never taken it off. He looks at you in confusion, “No baby, no. No no.” he says, pulling you into a hug when he sees your bottom lip start to tremble. You collapse in his arms, “You yelled at me.” you say softly, looking up at him with a pout on your lips. He shakes his head, running his thumb over your bottom lip, pushing it back in place, something he’s always done when you pouted at him. 

“I know, and I regretted it the second I did it. I love you, I always love hearing you talk about every little thing that crosses your mind. And I am so sorry if I ever made it seem like I don’t.” he mumbles into your hair, squeezing you close a few times before releasing you. “I thought you hated me.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest, sniffling.

“I could never hate you.” he says, and he reaches for you. “Hey baby.” Booboo says in a low voice, still a little scratchy from crying. He really was so beautiful. “What are you thinking about, pretty girl?” he asks, kissing your nose and pulling you into a hug. 

“About how much I love you.” you say quietly, looking up at him and he gives you a toothy grin, leaning in and giving you a peck on the lips, “What about you, Boo?” you ask, running your hands from his shoulders, over his chest before wrapping your arms around his middle. 

“About my girl, always.” he says into your hair, kissing the top of your head and sighing in content. You hum, nuzzling your face into his chest as his hands slip under your sweater, grazing over your hips and rubbing up your back. You stop as you feel a squishy substance touch your nose, “There’s fresh paint on this sweatshirt.” you mumble, pulling away and he starts laughing at your paint covered face. “It’s not funny!” you say, pushing him away jokingly and laughing too. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Now we can shower together.” he says, waggling his eyebrows at you, still laughing and reaching for you again. You let him pull you close and look up at him, batting your eyelashes and puckering your lips. He leans down and closes the space between you, wasting no time and wiping his tongue over your bottom lip, you open your mouth and let his tongue massage yours as his hands trail from your hips to your backside, squeezing your ass and pulling you closer, if that was even possible. He starts to walk you backwards towards the couch, sitting down and pulling you down to straddle his lap. His hands ghost over your hips, up your sides and he separates your lips only to pull off your sweatshirt, grinning when he sees you were bare underneath it. His lips go to your neck, leaving hot, wet kisses down to your chest before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and then pulling away, kneading it with his thumb whilst blowing cool air on it. You bite your lip, sighing softly as you reach to take his sweatshirt off as well. He pulls it off, throwing it behind him and pulls you back in for another kiss, biting on your bottom lip as one of his hands dives below the waistband of your leggings, your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers brush against you. He looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You like that, baby?” he asks, one of his fingers circling your clit as he continues kissing down your neck. You nod, unable to get a word out before he inserts two fingers inside you without any warning. You moan out his name as he pumps them in and out. “That’s right, baby, who’s making you feel this good?” he breathes before capturing your lips in another kiss, swallowing every one of your moans selfishly. 

You break away, chest heaving, “Please fuck me.” you beg and before you could utter another sound, he flips your body so you’re underneath him. His hands work to get the rest of your clothes before he kicks off his sweats, he kisses you again and pumps himself in his hand a few times before sliding his tip between your soaked folds, teasing you before pushing in and bottoming out inside you. You both let out a moan before he starts a steady pace, one hand beside your head and the other on your hip. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping onto them tightly, nails digging in. One trails a line of fire up to his bun, letting his hair out and he smiles, “Gonna pull on it baby?” he asks rhetorically, he already knew the answer but you decide to show him by wrapping your fist around his hair in a makeshift ponytail and pulling, earning a low grunt from your boyfriend. Then you get an idea.

“Baby, baby, wait…” You start, whimpering softly in his ear as he starts hitting your spot with every thrust. “I want you to fuck me from behind and pull my hair.” you say, smiling shyly up at him. He all but has a conniption as he pulls out, helping you turn and get on all fours. He slowly slides back in, hands on your waist as he does. One of them gently glides up your body, tracing a line to the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair and he pulls your head back, his lips pressing back into your neck, “Call me daddy, baby.” he moans, setting the pace again, hitting every inch of you with every thrust.

“D-Daddy, please, holy shit-” you moan, a hand reaching behind you and tangling itself in his hair, he moans out as his thrusts start to get sloppy, and one of his hand cups one of your breasts, squeezing gently as he pushes you both to your orgasms. “Daddy, yes, fuck- I’m there!” you scream out, legs shaking as he pushed in deeper, if that was even possible. Within minutes you were cumming together, falling into a tangled heap on the small sofa. As you both caught your breath, he wrapped you in his arms, snuggling up to you. “I love you, Boo.” you breathe out, barely above a whisper, nuzzling your head into his neck.

“I love you.” He replies, kissing your forehead, “I promise I’ll never yell at you again.” He whispers, twirling a piece of your hair around one of his fingers. His lips ghosted over your fingers as he held your hand up to his mouth, kissing each finger gently, his lips pausing over your ring. “Do you remember when I gave this to you?” he asked, smiling down at you.

You nod, smiling back at him, “Of course I do, B. It was our 2 year anniversary, every plan we had made fell through but you were determined to give me this.” you say, laughing and he kisses you gently, deepening the kiss only after pulling you on top of him, his hands on your waist. You decided that spending every post-argument in his arms was exactly what you wanted to do for the rest of your life, and unbeknownst to you, so did he. 

#booboo stewart #booboo stewart imagine #booboo stewart smut #jatp #descendants #twilight

[secret-rendezvous1d]

“you have no idea what you do to me.”

hi, hello!

this is a part two to my spencer reid imagine ‘you owe me’, which is linked here, which hit well with a lot of people and this part was requested by a few of you who wanted to see where the next part would go. smut isn’t necessarily my strong suit and i deeply apologise for the horrific scenes you are about to read; i’m working on it, i promise. i guess we’ll still have to see where it goes. i tried to make it as good as possible, it probably seems like a fail (which i’d completely agree with), because smut is not my strong suit when it comes to writing and i do try my best but i can’t reassure it’ll always be good but i wanted to get a part out that people wanted and it felt like a good time to post it.

like, reblog and send in some feedback, please. it’s greatly appreciated and it helps me work out what you want to see and what you are after. if you want something specific then do let me know! i’d love to try and write something for you.

thank you. enjoy.

-

“you have no idea what you do to me” spencer reid x female reader (reader insert imagine) word count; 3.0k

summary; after they were interrupted, yn’s still horny and spencer enjoys teasing her after they arrive in another state for a new case.

-

As soon as YN stepped foot on the jet, ready for take off that took them off to the next kind of case they were investigating, nerves always managed to fill her stomach.

She wasn’t a nervous flyer; absolutely not, given the number of times the team had to fly to and from state capitals in a month to get to murder scenes and towns hit with sudden attacks from killers where the police chiefs had called with a need for their behavioural analytical help. The nerves that appeared and fluttered round her stomach in the form of butterflies came from the unexpected and the feeling of the unknown. In a meeting before they board the jet, which was held by a brightly spirited Garcia who had no reason to be as energeticas she was so early in the mornings, they were only given small snippets about a crime scene - the typical information like the victims names and whether they were in cahoots with another victim or unrelated to, say the least - and images of the victim in such horrific situations that you really didn't need to imagine anything because it was all there in print, and the name of a potential unsub they were asked to check out by higher authority. That was all. There was no expectations as to what they would see upon their first viewing nor were there any expectations about how they would feel upon arriving at a dump site or the ground someone had died upon.

This time around, she was full of all kinds of emotions. The typical amount of butterfly flutters that she was used to, the strange feeling of excitement for working on a new case that got them chaotically running around and using their brains for the good, a feeling of anticipation because she wanted to be there as quickly as possible so they could solve it as soon as they gathered all of the correct information but, deep down, there was some kind of frustration sitting deep in the bottom of her belly, that had been sat there ever since they stepped foot out of their front door just hours ago, because she couldn’t finish what she had started with Reid before they were called in.

As soon as the pilot had them at cruising level, hitting an altitude where they were then allowed to move about the aircraft, YN had moved from her place opposite Spencer, who had chosen to seat himself at the other end of the plane with his book and his case file set on the table before him, and found her way to the soft comfort of his lap. The blanket, that came with the jet (which she was sure Garcia had knitted because it was such a Penelope thing to do for her colleagues) and have been folded on her lap for the duration of take-off, was know draped over their legs and keeping them warm from the chilly atmosphere of the jet. His leather bag tucked under his chair and out of the way of tripping anyone up, her bag left behind on her seat but she didn’t care who moved it if they wanted to sit down because it wasn’t there to occupy it as hers, his phone was sat on the table beside the brown envelope whilst hers stayed in her bag because she had no reason to be contacted, and they felt like they were in their own world.

“I know we interrupted whatever you two were doing back home but,” Morgan sat opposite the two of them, moving YN’s bag to the floor beneath the table so he could perch down comfortable and lean back, looking at how they were all cosy and cuddled up in the singular chair toward the back end of the private jet with the woven blanket covering their laps, “you reckon you could pop the bubble you’re both in and, you know, include yourselves in the conversation we’re about to have on the case?”

“I didn’t know you were the jealous type, Derek,” YN teased, a laugh leaving her mouth when she saw him roll his eyes and fold his arms over his chest in disbelief, a grin on his face. Her body shuddering and jostling Spencer’s body beneath her as she let out a bellowing laugh, “alright, fine, mister Morgan. I’m going to go and catch up.”

She squeezed Spencer’s knee before she moved and stood to her feet, a little uneasy with the flight path being a rather bumpy one this time around, taking the woven blanket with her and taking the comfort from Spencer. Wrapping it tight around her shoulders, like she was wearing a cape, and letting it drag across the floor behind her as she took scuffed steps down the alley and perched down on the sofa beside Emily.

“You don’t hide it well, you know? Neither of you,” Morgan said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he stayed focused on Spencer’s face whose eyes were locked on the woman who had just left the warmth of his lap, the corners of his lips twitching a smile that he didn’t want anyone to see, adjusting his seated position so he could reach forward and grab the brown envelope holding the case information. Trying to ignore having the conversation, that seemed to hint and fish for details in his personal life that he didn’t wish to share, that Morgan seemingly wanted to have and hold in such a tight confinement. “YN never wears scarves because we’re usually going somewhere warm. And she’d have taken it off by now, and she definitely wouldn’t wear one with a blanket because she gots warm so easily, so she’s definitely hiding something from us. And you, Reid, anyone who isn’t a profiler can see that something happened before we all got called in and we all know what that something was.”

“What?”

Spencer tried to fix his face into a look of curiosity but… he just couldn’t. What was the point in hiding the truth when his friends knew him inside and out?

“You were about to hit home base and Hotch just had to be the cockblock,” he snorted, Spencer’s eyes never lifting from the page he was reading; and, for someone that could read 20,000 words a minute, he sure took a look time to read whatever was written on the page between his fingers. And, as much as he tried to hide the burning in his cheeks by ducking his head down to his chest and using the paper to cover half of his face, Derek could still see the pink hot-flush taking over his face. “I think that blush says I’m right. Play on, playa. Am I right?”

“I didn’t come to work to be profiled, Morgan,” Spencer stated, a stern voice dripping from his tongue but, to Derek, he could hear Spencer’s well hidden sense of humour begging to make an appearance; he’d been sussed so dodging the conversation was all he could try and do and Morgan wasn’t about to let that happen, “I advise you not to profile me because I can profile you ten times better. Now, are you going to fill me in on the case? Where who is going after we land, etcetera, etcetera?”

Derek smirked in accomplishment and pushed himself up from his seat, turning his back on Spencer as he carried on reading over the case file, walking towards the back of the plane to grab himself a bottle of water to quench his thirst and to click the coffee-maker on so everyone could have a coffee to wake themselves up. He squeezed YN’s shoulder on his way passed her and made her shyly look at him and smile; it wasn’t like the chat he had with Spencer was quiet enough not to be heard..

“Hotch is keeping you two separated,” JJ spoke from her seat amongst the seat of four near the middle of the plane, much to Hotch’s dismay because all eyes were now on him as they awaited why he had chosen to separate the two people who worked fairly well together when they were ordered to, surprisingly for them because of the distractions that could possibly keep them from , “you have a hotel room though. You can do all the catching up there, if you get what I mean.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at YN and YN just wanted the floor of the plane to swallow her whole so she could escape the embarrassment.

“We’ll all head to the hotel tonight, we’ll get some sleep, hopefully wake up with fresh heads and then we’ll head to the station before we assign roles on what we do,” Hotch said, reassurance in his voice, and YN was thankful he spoke up before the conversation went down a route she hadn’t planned to be involved with. She glanced at Spencer, who tried to suffice the smirk that was begging to show on his face, and she swore she could have taken strides down the alley of the plane to swipe him across the back of the head. “Phones on though. Anything can happen through the night and we might get called in.”

+

YN had never felt happier to be between the four walls of a hotel room.

There was something about being on a plane, sitting and sweating in the same seat and barely moving for hours, that made her always want to freshen up at any given chance. And any given chance she would take. Even if it was a tiny airport cubicle, which was one of four in a row and smelt appallingly like they had been cleaned for days, and she had nothing but toilet paper and wipes and sanitiser and a little spritz of deodorant from her handbag to work with, it was still a chance she would take it.

As soon as they’d said their goodbyes to the team and found that they had drawn the short straw on sharing an adjoining room with someone from the team, aggravatingly, they settled in for the night and went about their business like they normally would when staying overnight on a case. Trying to forget that they could be walked in on, at any point, from Rossi who had politely offered to take the room because the looks on everyone’s faces told him they were skeptical after catching hints from the gossiping mouth of Derek Morgan. Spencer disappeared for a quick shower whilst YN hung her blouses up in the wardrobe and paired her flared trousers with the correct top, the same pair of shoes she always wore - white and incredibly tattered Converse boots - left by the door so they were easily found and easy to slip on in a rush.

“Do you reckon Hotch will call to wake us up in the morning or-”

“I assume he’ll want us in the reception lobby by eight so we should probably sleep now,” Spencer claimed, patting the empty side of the bed beside him once she walked out of the en-suite bathroom, after she had finished freshening up and brushing her teeth and had turned the light off behind her. It wasn’t the biggest bed in the world that they had been given, and it made their double bed at home look like a queen-sized bed with the size of it, and YN was sure it was classed as a single room for one person just by the size of the mattress Hotch had expected the two of them to sleep comfortably on. It wouldn’t surprise her, in all honesty, that someone had given a tip to the bossman to give them the smallest room because they need not worry about being cuddled up so tightly together. “Come on. Stop flaunting your naked body around, please. Rossi is next door and I really don’t need him making tomorrow awkward if he walks in and sees breasts pushed in his face.”

“I’m wearing a towel, you goob. And I definitely wouldn’t push my tits in his face,” YN scoffed, hands running up and down the soft material of the towel given with the room, the white cotton bringing out the deep purple bruises around her neck and the red bite marks that still littered around her collarbone from earlier that evening. Something which Spencer felt pretty proud about when he let his eyes linger. “Besides, Rossi’s probably asleep so we can do whatever we want.”

“We can not,” he warned, shaking his head and slipping his glasses from his nose, folding them up and placing them on the bedside table, just like he’d do during his routine at home. Switching the lamp on, which barely added more light to the room, and using the switch adjacent to turn off the main lighting of the room so save having to move when they were comfortably tucked up under the covers. “We can wait till we get home. More privacy.”

YN grinned to herself and used the opportunity to strut across the floor with a swing to her hip movements, the carpet rough beneath the soles of her feet, her mind focused on walking to his side of the bed so he could gain some kind of understanding of what she wanted to happen. Being as seductive and as sexy as possible in an attempt to try anything to get him feeling horny for her. One leg lifted to straddle him, her other coming up and set the other side of his legs, feeling the cotton of his boxers against the insides of her thighs. His hands came to sit on her hips, fingers circling the cotton covering her body, a curious look on his face.

“They never said we couldn’t do it when we were alone,” she reminded him, forearms resting on his shoulders and her fingers sat in the damp hair at the back of his head. He smelt like his soap - a beautiful pinewood smell that always lingered on his skin and left the bathroom with a delicious aroma - and his shampoo and looked so fresh and soft and the curls atop of his head hadn’t quite curled into their typical wisps yet and they hung lowly around the sculpt of his face. “Can we? Since we didn’t get to do it back in Virginia?”

He pulled her closer, lips puckering as he pressed a litter of kisses to her forehead then the bridge of her nose then her left cheek before her right cheek until he landed on her lips, where he lingered and left behind a tingling sensation that had her reeling and begging on the inside for something more than that.

“Don’t,” she whined, eyes closing in frustration and her thighs tensing and holding him in one positon on the bed to keep him from going anywhere, her head rolling back on the ball of her neck with a frown on her face that soon dissipated when she felt his lips graze the base of her neck. Just below her collarbone, where she could feel his warmth breath escape his nose, yet just above her the blossoming curves of her breasts where she wished for his hands to sit. Dry lips dragging across her soft skin, hands holding her hips down upon his own, leaving a string of gentle kisses across her chest. “Spence-”

“Like that?” He hummed, his damp hair tickling at the underside of her chin, his head nestling into the space at the base of her neck, pecking and nibbling at the skin below her ear, “tell me you like that.”

“I like it,” she whispered, gently holding fistfuls of his hair in her hands and pulling his head away from her neck so she was able to look him in the eyes, a dark look behind his coloured orbs that had her tingling between the legs, “I love it, Spence.”

He smirked.

“That’s enough then,” she heard him say, her mind spinning, “come on, early start tomorrow.”

“No..”

“Yeah,” he grabbed her by the waist and rolled them onto their sides, her body colliding with the mattress and the springs coiled up before re-coiling loudly, a gentle ‘oof’ escaping her as she hit the bed and came free from his body which had now switched positions. Arms bracing his weight and hands pushed into the pillow behind her head, legs straddling her own as she laid flat beneath him, eyes focused on her. “Bedtime, now.”

“You can’t have me feeling like this and then end it,” she pouted, hands snaking up his chest and back to his shoulders, palms flat against the back of his head as she pulled his face a little closer to hers, “baby, please.”

“Think I might save it, go all out with you when we get back home,” he pondered, more to himself than for her to actually hear him but her heart skipped a beat, “yeah, I think I might just warm you up, get you ready, till we get home.”

“You wouldn’t,” she whispered, a hint of seduction in her words, lips touching his with every word she enunciated, “you would.”

He laughed maniacally and nudged his nose against hers; “you have no idea what you do to me.”

“You have no idea what you do to me,” she retorted, bringing a bent knee up to knee him up the bum in annoyance, “I hate you sometimes.”

“Rubbish. You love me so damn much,” he said, pressing one last kiss to her lips before he rolled back to his side of the bed and stretched out beside her, face turned in her direction, “besides, I’d much rather have our own room and not an adjoining one and I’d rather have the neighbours hear us rather than Rossi. Less awkwardness at work, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes playfully, “goodnight, you annoying human being.”

“Goodnight, you equally annoying human being.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader insert imagines #spencer reid x yn imagines #spencer reid x female insert imagines #spencer reid fics #spencer reid x reader insert fics #spencer reid x yn fics #spencer reid x female insert fics #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler x reader insert imagines #matthew gray gubler x yn imagines #matthew gray gubler x female insert imagines #matthew gray gubler fics #matthew gray gubler x reader inserts fics

[grave-avis]

Okay so, anyone who ever so slightly knows me knows I like birds. Like, really like birds. Like I’m organizing my life plan to hopefully be able to dedicate my life to ornithology levels of liking birds. One of my hobbies is birdwatching/ bird feeding and it’s really really fun! So I decided to make a little post about some of my FOs and birdwatching.

Note: if you’re going to be rude about my hobby please leave, I’ve been bullied for liking bird watching before and I just don’t want to deal with that before school starts. Yes it’s an old person hobby, but I enjoy it :)

With Jester I feel like she’d be very enthusiastic to join me, happily sitting next to me to doodle the birds we see. After a bit I’d notice that I’m seeing fewer birds than usual and realize that she’s talking very loudly and making a lot of sudden movements and it’s scaring away all the birds. After a brief conversation about it I decide to take her to visit my less timid bird friends: I’ll introduce her to all the geese I’ve gained the trust of and tell her all their names and help her feed them out of her hand and I’ll take her to visit all my crows and seagulls. I think she’d really like seeing all my friends and would appreciate the beauty of them, she wouldn’t find my enthusiasm about them obnoxious because she’s able to match my energy.

Yasha and I have travelled separately from the nein together in the past, and she’s kind of joined me accidentally. Sometimes I accompany her to pick flowers and I’ll spot a family of sparrows and point them out to her. She’s not very talkative but she doesn’t mind sitting with me and watching them, usually taking the time to write in her notebook as they warble and play. She finds them fascinating and she appreciates cute animals much more than you’d expect from an intimidating woman like her. Sometimes she brings me feathers she finds on the ground, she understands collecting things from nature. When we’re with the nein Beau will sometimes join us just to see what we’re up to. She likes to tease me about it but she’s chill, she gets very into my hypotheticals about what birds would beat each other in a fight.

Caduceus is a member of the nein who I can see genuinely enjoying birdwatching, and he probably adopted the hobby long before we met. He enjoys my enthusiasm and although he doesn’t know much about birds on an ornithology level, he appreciates my info dumps. When my insomnia acts up and he’s up late as well, sometimes we’ll sneak off together and try to find owls. He finds them a bit annoying because of how loud they are but they’re some of my favourites and it’s fun to watch them hunt.

Fjord and Caleb are a bit indifferent to them, Caleb appreciates my bird facts and knowledge (He especially likes my information on vultures and how acidic they are) and was kind enough to buy me a bird guide from a bookstore after noticing a lot of my guides don’t cover the regions we travel to. If I ever invite him out with me he doesn’t pay much attention to them but takes the opportunity to read and study, I don’t mind. The most birdwatching I’ll get out of Fjord is pointing out the seagulls around the ship, he finds them annoying as hell but even he admits seagulls can be fucking hilarious.

Nott and Molly are a bit too chaotic to take out birdwatching, I am worried that either they will accidentally harm the birds (or well,,, intentionally in Nott’s case) or they will accidentally piss off a bird and get mauled. Although one time they wrestled a living seagull back to camp after misunderstanding me talking about how I didn’t have many seagull FEATHERS in my collection.

Percy sometimes comes down to the ocean with me, he’s well acquainted with my geese and seagull friends and even the one crow that lives down there. He mostly likes to feed them with me and laugh about their mannerisms. He’s one of the people who kind of makes me remember how fun this hobby is. It can be very boring when you’re alone or take it too seriously but it’s hard to take much of anything serious when Percy is goofing off and cracking jokes with you. Sometimes when I meet up with him he’ll tell me about the birds he’s seen around because he knows I’ll appreciate it.

What’s the point of birdwatching with Alex around? She gets enthusiastic when I ask her to turn into different types of bird and enjoys the challenge, she never wastes an opportunity to show off her shapeshifting talent. Of course if I ask her to, she’ll happily chase the ravens through the hotel’s halls, trying to get a better look at them. Sometimes they pity us and perch for a few seconds so we can get a better look. When we meet up to work on art together she teases me about the amount of birds I incorporate into my art but I know she doesn’t mean it. Sometimes we’ll even collaborate and she’ll ask me to paint ravens and other animals onto her pottery. One morning I woke up to a small statue of an owl in front of my door, she never mentioned it to me but I recognized her stamp at the bottom of the statue.

Halfborn also isn’t that into birdwatching but he’ll be sure to tell me when birds are mentioned in littérature and loves to discuss poetry with me and will show me any bird themed ones. He appreciates the symbolism behind them more than anything. Sometimes when we can’t sleep we’ll spend the night in each other’s room and tell stories of when we were alive, although he’s a bit tired of me harassing him for any stories about the seagulls in his old fishing village.

Aragorn and Legolas are both fairly into my bird obsession but most of all they like it when I explain falconry to them, they enjoy seeing my owl around the camp and find any facts about her interesting. They find nature and all its creatures simply delightful. Gimli’s a bit indifferent to it but sometimes he’ll point out any birds he sees to keep me entertained on the road (I don’t think he likes birds that much :/).

#raynards rambles #long post #fo: Beauregard Lionett #fo: Jester Lavorre #fo: Mollymuck Tealeaf #fo: fjord tusktooth #fo: Nott #fo: Veth Bernartto #fo: Caleb Widoghast #tea time 🍃 #fo: Percy Jackson #💫the boys💫 #fo: Alex Fierro #fo: Halfborn Gunderson #self ship blog #self ship #self shipping #source: critical role #platonic fo #familial fos #source: riordanverse #source: lord of the rings

[aheartstillbeating]

My Testimony

So I think it’s time for me to post my personal testimony on  my blog. I have to say, this might just be one of the hardest things I’ve had to write as I’ve done a lot of things I’m not quite proud of. God has brought me out of the darkness and into the Light. I am so very thankful for His sacrifice on the cross so that I can be forgiven. I’m posting this so that others can get a look into why my heart is still beating, and also hopefully it can show you that, no matter what you have done, God still loves you. Nothing can separate you from His great love.

It’s a bit long. I’m done hiding what I’ve been through. God has saved me from a lot and brought be through even more. Be blessed.

I was raised in church. From the time I was born till about the age of 11, I was in church every time the doors were open. My parents were actually the worship leaders, playing the music and singing the songs. It was so wonderful. Everything seemed perfect. My home life was very good at this point. However, my parents ended up getting a divorce when I was 11. I know there was a lot of unfaithfulness to each other but I didn’t ask many more questions. Needless to say, we all fell away from the Lord at this point. My mom went to be a bartender at this point (which she still is to this day) and my dad sunk himself in work. My parents had split custody so my 2 sisters and I went back and forth every few days. I’ve lived in over 40 different houses/apartments as the parents didn’t know if they wanted to be close to each other or not.It was quite rough. Anyway, when I was 12, I was introduced to pornography. I didn’t have anyone telling me it was wrong so I just stayed with it. I was even in a committed relationship with my “high school sweetheart” throughout this addiction. She ended up leaving me when I was about 17 because I wouldn’t give up this addiction.

My dad has now been divorced 3 different times. My older sister has a divorce in her records as well. Dad is still single and working on himself in the Lord. My older sister is married and has a house full of kids. They are great together, I just can’t wait until the Lord reaches down and takes hold of them.

Anyways, I got ahead of myself. When I was 18 and about to graduate High school, my little sister got saved. She started dating my best friend, whom was a preacher’s kid. She started going to church with him. She would beg me time and again to come with her on Sunday mornings. I was so terrified to go. I didn’t want to know what I would find if I’d asked God to come inside of me. I felt unworthy. I kept making up excuses and letting my sister down. It broke me to do that to her as we were really close. Finally, after a few months, she told me she was getting baptized. “Bub, will you please come” she asked with tears in her eyes. So I went to church with her that morning and say in the very back pew. Throughout the service, the preacher had asked if anyone wanted to be saved twice. Then he moved into the baptisms. My sister went down and back up again. She looked so new. I felt like I could relate to John the Baptist seeing the dove landing on Jesus. I wanted it. When the preacher asked again, I peeled my hands off the bottom of the pew (which still has my finger marks on it) and raced toward the front and gave my life to the Lord.I kicked my bad habit and focused only on Him.

That was right before I graduated High school. When I started college, I got heavily involved in a campus ministry. Everything I could do to reach out, i was there. I prayed for people on campus, I would walk and talk with anyone who was curious about Jesus. I even joined a church and taught Sunday school to middle schoolers. I kept myself busy so I wouldn’t get back into bad habits. It was amazing. So what happened?

Well, I met the woman I called my wife when I was 21. I pursued her and we grew in the Lord for about 2 years together before deciding to get married. Everything was perfect. I couldn’t have asked for more. Shortly after our marriage, I had to have a surgery. This put me down for 2 months. I couldn’t move or do anything. This meant that I had a lot of time to do nothing. So, sitting there at the house alone gave my mind time to wonder and I ended up falling back into that old sin again. Believe it or not, I kept it hidden for almost 2 years. I told my now ex wife that I was writing... It caused a lot of division between us and I did nothing to try and fix it. Still went to church and everything. I knew it was wrong. I knew I hurt her. So, finally I told her about it in year 2 of our marriage. Some of the things I stumbled upon online had ended up landing me behind bars. No, I did not go searching for what I’d found. I’ve learned the hard way that sin will take you further that you want to go and cost you way more than you want to pay. My ex wife stayed with me through my 11 months in jail. She said we could work it out and she forgave me. She challenged me to find out what it truly means to love someone. One of the best and hardest challenges that I’d ever been given. I read the Bible 3 times and any other books I could get my hands on about love and intimacy. I read Song of Solomon and Proverbs so many times they were falling out of my Bible. While I was in there, my hero, my mom’s mother passed away. This broke me even more than I already was. With this challenge my ex gave me, I was able to witness to several inside and lead them to the Lord. We ended up having Bible studies almost every day. It was incredible. That’s God taking a bad situation and using it for His good.

Anyways, the day I found out I was getting out was also the day I found out I was getting divorced. She still didn’t believe me that I didn’t go searching for what I had found. I left her the house, car, etc. I didn’t want anything. Moved back in with my mother. This is where I kind of fell away again. 8 years of relationships gone in the blink of an eye. The church I’d gone to and supported dumped me quick. I know what it feels to lose everything. Thankfully my family still supports me.

Good news: I am 4 years free of that addiction, I attend a church regularly and they seem interested in letting me play drums for the praise team. I’m still single and waiting on the kind-hearted, patient, loving individual that I know God has out there for me. If I’m to spend all my time alone, that’s fine too. I have Jesus. He is all that I need and I’m forever grateful that He has forgiven me.

#aheartstillbeating #mytestimony #past #thiswashard

[starshine583]

Le Paon Part 14

(Hey guys! So I’m going on a long trip tomorrow that might leak into Sunday so I’m posting this chapter two days early. Enjoy!)

Part 1 / Part 13 / Part 15

Le Paon spread his arms out, inviting the full force of the wind with a smile as he soared over the Paris streets. The evening was perfect- a cloudless sky, a warm breeze, and a bubbly feeling in his chest that threatened to burst at any moment. 

He never did end up talking to Marinette about their almost kiss, but the time he spent with her at home coming was just as great. They danced, they talked, and best of all, they were undisturbed. Not a single soul interrupted their time together, not even an akuma.

And now, Felix could only shout with joy as he ran to meet her as Le Paon. How he managed to escape Father’s new security was anyone’s guess, but he was out and that was all that mattered. 

Of course, after such a wonderful night, Le Paon needed to run off some of his excitement before visiting Marinette again. She might get suspicious if he suddenly appeared on her doorstep with a shining grin despite how their last rendezvous together ended.

Le Paon stopped on a small rooftop, watching a few people on the streets below. Sirens blared in the distance, but he didn’t pay it any attention until the flash of blue, white, and red caught the corner of his eye. There seemed to be a good few police cars gathering in one of the streets a few blocks away, which was odd. Le Paon didn’t hear any gunshots or alarms beforehand, so why would Police be called to that area? 

Curious, he took off across the rooftops again. It only took a minute for him to be right on top of them.

The sirens were still on when he got to the street with the police, so he could barely hear what anyone was saying, but they seemed to be talking about something rather important. 

Le Paon balanced himself on a chimney just above the cars and knelt down, hoping to get a better look. One police officer was talking to another officer that was slightly separated from the crowd. (perhaps that was the main officer?)

“What do we do if we find him?” The first officer asked, a tentative expression on his face.

“Take him into custody by any means necessary.” The main officer replied firmly. “That old lady’s sights may be nearly gone, but if she said he was here, we can’t risk ignoring it.”

“He”? Who’s he? Who were they looking for?

A few of the other officers glanced around the street, as if they were worried something might jump out to get them. Le Paon looked around too, but there was nothing. It was only them for the time being. Nevertheless, he’d like to know what had them so worried.

“Le Paon is dangerous. He hides in the shadows and attacks when you least expect it. Stay together and watch each other’s backs.” The main officer continued.

Le Paon’s eyes blew wide at the statement. Him? Attacking random citizens? That was ridiculous! He’d never hurt anyone if he could help it, and anytime he did hurt someone, it was during the akuma attacks and completely accidental. Did Paris really think that he prowled around as a bloodthirsty monster for no reason? (not that he was a bloodthirsty monster either. That’s just what the news media liked to paint him as)

Before Felix could fully register the fact that he was the one they were looking for and not some petty criminal, the main officer pointed upwards. “Watch the rooftops too. He’s been spotted up there the most.”

Le Paon’s blood ran cold as every single one of the officers’ eyes turned upwards, with quite a few landing on him directly. 

Guns were out and pointed at him in seconds, and Le Paon sprang to his feet from sheer panic. Unfortunately, that was enough for the police to start shooting. 

Bullets started flying past him, and Le Paon stumbled back. his foot slipped off the back of the chimney, causing him to flail his arms a bit for balance. This unfortunately allowed one of the bullets to graze his waist, pushing him back onto the rooftop below anyway. Le Paon hissed in pain, instinctively grabbing his side as his back hit the rooftop. The wound burned his skin with a sharpness that had him gritting his teeth. 

Bullets were still flying around him, but now they were hitting the chimney in front of him. The chimney wouldn’t last, though, and the police were bound to climb the building soon. He needed to escape, but how could he when his own blood was pooling around him and his vision was blurring from the pain?

Le Paon, through short breaths and groans, somehow managed to start pushing himself back. His strength was surprisingly intact, but he wasn’t sure if that was the adrenaline or the miraculous or both. 

He bit down hard on his lip as he forced himself to his feet, and the metallic taste of blood quickly started filling his mouth as well. Pain and agony overwhelmed his senses, but he drove it to the back of his mind as best he could. If he was taken now, he would never see Marinette again, and a life without Marinette.. well.. that was a life Felix didn’t care to live.

Le Paon threw himself into a sprint, despite his body screaming for him to stop, and jumped to the next rooftop. Then to the next. Marinette’s house was somewhere around here. He just needed to run far enough to get there.

~~~~~~

Marinette twirled around her room as she brushed her hair, remembering the way Felix held her as they danced. She never wanted to forget it.

“Oh, Tikki, I wish you could have seen it.” Marinette sighed wistfully. “He was so handsome in that tux, and the way he smiled at me just- ugh.” 

Tikki offered a sweet smile. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

Marinette chuckled. “I had the best time. He even complimented my dress-” She gestured to her dress that was now draped across the chaise “-and asked me to make his next suit! Felix really is wonderful.”

 Tikki chuckled, but before she could reply, a thud came from the balcony.

Marinette’s eyes snapped upward, her grin growing. First, she got to have a grand evening with Felix, and now, Le Paon’s finally come back to see her! That landing was a bit rougher than usually, but undoubtedly him. No one else visited her at night via balcony.

She scrambled up to open the trapdoor, briefly thinking over the fact that she was currently dressed in pajamas. He probably wouldn’t mind, though. It was late.

Marinette pushed open the trapdoor with a smile, but whatever banter she was about to use died in her throat when she saw him. 

Le Paon was curled on the ground, a hand to his side and a scowl of pain on his features. Something was soaked into his clothes, and she felt a wave of panic at the thought of what it might be.

“L-Le Paon!” She said, shocked and worried and confused. How did this happen? Wasn’t the miraculous supposed to protect them? Did Hawkmoth lash out at him somehow? “What- what happened? Are you okay? Who did this to you?”

Le Paon twitched slightly, his glazed eyes rolling up to get a glimpse of her. He seemed on the verge of being delirious. “Police… guns.. I didn’t..”

Marinette gripped her shirt over her heart. The police? Did he have a run in with the police? Wait- had he been shot?!

“I’m taking you inside.” She said sternly, even though her hands were shaking. If he truly was covered in blood, she needed to clean it up and patch up the wound as soon as possible. Who knew how long he’d had the injury now?

Marinette wrapped her arms around Le Paon’s waist and tried to ignore his pained gasps as she tugged him downwards. 

This is for his own good. She told herself. He’s going to be in pain no matter what you do.

As gently as possible, Marinette carried him to her bed- thank goodness for her Ladybug training -and carefully set him down across the sheets. Le Paon squirmed at first, but settled a few moments later.

“Stay right here.” Marinette instructed softly, even though it was clear that he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m gonna get you a towel to help with the bleeding and then get some bandages.”

Le Paon managed a nod, and Marinette spared him a quick glance before rushing downstairs to her bathroom. She briefly wondered how she was going to explain all of the blood to her parents later, but that was a question for later. Right now, the main problem was Le Paon’s gunshot wound.

A gunshot wound! For Pete’s sake, how did he even get it? She thought the miraculous suits were supposed to protect them from the brunt of those things, though she’d never really been shot with a bullet as Ladybug before either. How did he get here with that injury? Did he run all the way there?

“Gosh, Le Paon..” She muttered to herself, yanking a towel from her sink cabinet. Should she call an ambulance? What would they do? He was technically a convicted criminal. Wasn’t that similar to turning him in?

Marinette climbed back up to her bed with towel in hand and quickly pressed it to Le Paon’s wound. 

“Keep it here to help stop the bleeding.” She told him, putting his hand over the towel. “I need to get bandages now.”

Le Paon just closed his eyes, which fueled Marinette to quicken her pace. She scurried down the steps again, heading back to the bathroom. She grabbed a small, silver tray along the way and dumped out the sewing contents on it. Her parents had given it to her from the bakery to help keep her pins together, but it should work to hold the medical supplies as well.

Bandages.. Bandages.. She rummaged through the cabinets and drawers, finally finding a roll of bandages in the bottom left drawer. She then found a clean washrag and soaked it in water to clean the wound, along with another clean towel to dry the wound afterwards.

Once she had the necessary items, Marinette rushed back up the ladder to Le Paon. Panic spiked in her chest when she saw how limp he was, but a quick check of the pulse proved to simply be asleep.

“Probably passed out from blood loss.” She pondered aloud as she knelt beside him. 

The tray was set aside so she could pry away the bloodied towel. Thankfully, the bleeding had slowed, but she needed to work quickly so it wouldn’t get worse. Marinette lightly cleaned the bullet wound with the washrag, glancing at Le Paon every now and then to make sure he wasn’t in too much pain. Once the blood was cleared away and she could clearly see the wound, Marinette got to work wrapping the bandages around him. It was a bit difficult at first, since he was laying down, but with some coaxing, she got Le Paon to sit up in a near-asleep state so she could wrap the wound swiftly and efficiently. 

“Do you think that’s enough?” Marinette whispered to Tikki after a few minutes.

The kwami glanced over from her hiding spot behind a dresser and nodded. 

Marinette blew out a small, relieved sigh and cut the bandage strip before sticking it to the rest of the wrapping. “There. That should work for him until he can get back home.” 

If he can get back home.

Marinette gathered the medical supplies back onto the small tray she had and stood. He would probably be asleep for a while. She might need to get some extra blankets to sleep on the chaise tonight.

As she turned to go find some blankets and put up the tray, a frantic, high pitched beeping reached her ears. Marinette’s heart sank into her stomach when she realized what it was, all too late.

A flash of light illuminated the room, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Le Paon just detransformed. In her bedroom. Of all the places he could have detransformed, it just had to be her bedroom.

A squeal-ish groan came from what Marinette assumed was the kwami. 

“I.. I think I’m just gonna take a small nap.” It said groggily. 

Curiosity urged Marinette to open her eyes, but she ignored it. She couldn’t see who Le Paon was, not without his permission. She’d want him to do the same, after all.

Marinette felt around the room so she could find the ladder, wondering how on earth she would get around with her eyes closed the whole night. Should she really try to go down the ladder blinded? That didn’t seem like the best idea.. But could she trust herself not to look at Le Paon while her eyes were open?

A pained gasp sounded from behind her, and Marinette whirled around before she could think about what she was doing, eyes wide open to see what was wrong. 

And in all truth, there were way too many things wrong with what she saw.

Felix Agreste, the boy she’d been pining over for a good few weeks now, was lying on her bed. 

The tray slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor.

Felix Agreste, who she’d danced with that very night, who she almost kissed a week ago, was Le Paon, Paris’ most wanted villain, her most unusual house guest.

“I don’t..” Marinette put a hand to her head. “I don’t understand.”

Tikki was suddenly by her side, ancient eyes filled with worry. “Marinette-”

“How can-” Marinette stopped again to swallow down the lump in her throat. “-How can Felix be here? He can’t- He can’t really be Le Paon, right? That’s not- that’s not possible.”

Tikki tried to say something else, but Marinette couldn’t stand long enough for the kwami to do so. Her legs buckled, causing her to stumble onto the ground next to the spilled medical supplies. 

It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t.

But there Felix was, still sleeping somewhat peacefully, still holding patches of blood from his gunshot wound. 

Oh gosh, Felix got shot.

Marinette put a hand over her mouth, suddenly sick to her stomach. How did this happen? How did he get the peacock miraculous? How long has he had it? Has she been fighting him as Ladybug this whole time?

Tears burned in the corner of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. This was not the time for grieving. Or rage. Or whatever emotional was swirling inside her. Felix or not- he was still injured horribly. She needed to stay focused.

..But how could she? How could she help him with a clear mind when she knew that the man who had been terrorizing Paris and the man she’d so desperately fallen in love with were one and the same? For Pete’s sake, she’s fallen in love with Paris’ most wanted! What was she going to do? What was he going to do once he woke up? Would he try to get rid of her now that she knew his identity? No, no, Felix wouldn’t do that, right? He wasn’t that kind of person.. But does she really know what kind of person he is anymore? He’s been hiding this for months now. What else was he hiding?

Felix shuddered again, bringing her from her thoughts, and curled into himself with a grimace. 

The pain must have increased when he detransformed. Marinette thought with a slight frown. Should she help him? What could she do? If she tried to wake him up to take medicine, he would know that his identity’s been revealed, but if she left him alone, he might wake up from the pain anyway..

Tentatively, Marinette moved a bit closer to Felix’s side, watching. His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath, and he shifted to the side, causing his head to fall to the right towards her. It made her wish he were as innocent as he looked in that moment.

Marinette sighed and closed the distance between them to brush the pale, blonde wisps of hair out of his face. Felix might have been keeping his identity a secret, but she’d been keeping her identity a secret too. Besides, it’s not like he could just up and tell her that he was a super villain, now, could he?

Marinette brushed her hand over his, hoping he wouldn’t wake up from it, and gave him a light kiss on the forehead. “I don’t know how you got into this mess, but I’m going to get you out. I promise.”

She was about to pull her hand away- didn’t want him waking up on her -but something else caught her eye first.

Another light, this time pink, flickering around his bandages. 

Marinette frowned, because Le Paon’s magic was blue, not pink. Was something wrong? What was the light doing around the bandages?

The light grew brighter, slowly but surely shining through each bandage wrapping around Felix’s injury. 

Marinette, now panicking, let go of Felix’s hand to inspect the spontaneous source of light, but as soon as she drew back, the light faded away. 

She sat there for a moment, dumbfounded and staring, wondering what she should do next. “What.. what was that?” 

Tikki gave her a knowing smile. “That was a part of your miraculous magic.”

Marinette blinked. Her what? 

“What are you talking about?” 

Tikki settled in the covers next to Felix. “When a new miraculous holder is chosen, they are partly fused with their miraculous and their kwami’s magic. It’s a minor effect that is necessary for you to transform.”

Marinette furrowed her brows. “So.. that bright light just now.. That was me?” 

“Yep!” A chipper voice spoke up before Tikki could reply. “And that was some of the best magic I’ve ever seen from a holder! They usually can’t unlock their true potential so quickly.”

Tikki and Marinette turned to see a blue and pink kwami sitting up on Felix’s stomach with a bright smile.

“O-Oh..” Marinette faltered. In the whole “Felix being Le Paon” ordeal, she’d forgotten about the other kwami that had flown from Felix’s miraculous when he detransformed. “Um.. hello. You’re Felix’s kwami, right?”

The being nodded. “That’s me! You can call me Duusu.”

Marinette offered Duusu a smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Marinette.”

“I know who you are.” Duusu smiled. “My chosen never stops talking about you.”

A heavy blush bloomed across Marinette’s cheeks. “F-Felix talks about me?”

Duusu nodded. “Only when he’s alone, though. My chosen doesn’t like being overheard.” 

“Oh..” She replied dumbly, still reeling from the fact that Felix talks about her. “That makes sense.”

“I’m sorry for not introducing myself earlier. Sustaining that bullet wound drained more of my energy than I’m used to.” Duusu apologized.

Marinette glanced down at the miniature god. “Oh, don’t worry! Is your energy still low? Do you want me to get you some snacks?”

Duusu’s eyes lit up. “Would you? I’m famished.” 

Marinette giggled and stood up. “Of course. Is there anything specific you want?”

“Truffles! You’re guys’ truffles are the best!” Duusu answered eagerly.

The image of Felix nervously waiting in their bakery for the first time flicked through Marinette’s mind, and she nearly face palmed. That’s why he went to the bakery for truffles! 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Marinette smiled, before racing down the ladder again. She didn’t want to leave Felix alone for too long, even if he was in the care of two ancient gods.

By the time she returned with a small plate of truffles and chocolate chip cookies, Tikki was also sitting on Felix’s stomach, next to Duusu.

“So, Tikki,” Marinette began as she handed them the treats, “You said the glowing light was part of the magic I inherited from you, but what did the magic do?”

Tikki hummed. “It’s hard to say. The Ladybug miraculous is the miraculous of life and creation. It can create things, reinvent things.. But judging by the way you seemed to use it, I would say it probably healed some of his bullet wound, or at least got the process started.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “You think so?”

Tikki nodded.

Marinette turned to the bandages. “.. Should.. Do you think we should check?”

“Unwrapping the bandages now might cause more damage if the wound didn’t actually heal..” Tikki replied thoughtfully. “It’s probably best if we leave it alone.”

“But I’m sure he’ll be grateful to you later if it is healed!” Duusu said helpfully.

Marinette froze. “You’re not gonna tell him, are you?”

“He can’t know about this, Duusu.” Tikki added firmly.

Duusu glanced between them, a slight frown taking on her expression. “If my chosen asks me what happened, I cannot lie to him.”

“..And if he doesn’t ask you?” Marinette asked hopefully.

Duusu smiled again. “Then your secret’s safe with me. The fact that he’s detransformed will be a dead give away, though.”

Marinette bit her lip. Right.. That was another problem.

“I don’t suppose you can transform him without the magical incantation?” 

Duusu tilted her head back and forth. “It takes a bit more concentration, but sure!” 

Marinette’s shoulders slumped slightly from relief. She hadn’t realized how tense she was until that moment, but it was fine now. Everything would be fine.

As Tikki and Duusu continued catching up, Marinette found herself studying Felix’s bandages again. Stains of dried blood were on the wrappings from earlier, but not a trace of fresh blood seemed to be present. It was as if the bleeding had stopped all together. 

She hummed, brushing her fingertips against the stain.

Miraculous of Life, huh?

~~~~~~

Felix shifted onto his back, letting his eyes crack open. It was hard to make out the pinks and whites from the blur of his vision and the dim lighting of the room, but he assumed it to be a wall and a small dresser. His hand dug into the covers that he was laying on. Was this a bed? It wasn’t his bed. How did he get here? Where was here?

Felix let his eyes slip closed again, trying to remember what happened. His side ached a tad.. Because he’d been shot, that’s right.. And then he ran to Marinette’s balcony before-

His eyes snapped open, and he bolts upright to look down at his waist. He then tensed, waiting for the pain from moving so quickly. Nothing happened.

Felix frowned at the bandages now wrapped around his waist- had Marinette done that? -and poked at the blood stain. It still gave him a dull ache, but no sharp pains. Was the gunshot less serious than he realized that it healed already? Or was it some sort of magic his miraculous had given him?

Speaking of magic.. 

Felix glanced around the rest of his outfit, relieved to see that he was still covered in blue and purples. He could only imagine what Marinette might have thought had he detransformed in her house. 

Where is Marinette? He hasn’t heard her yet. Come to think of it, he hasn’t heard anything yet.

Wait, what time is it? 

Le Paon turned to find some sort of clock and spotted a small, pink alarm clock on the dresser. 

His heart dropped when he made out the hot pink numbers. 

“3am?” He almost yelled. No wonder the house was so quiet! Everyone was asleep! Oh, how was he going to apologize to Marinette? Knowing her, she was probably sick with worry. He must have stained half of her bedroom with his own blood. (Because out of everything, he definitely remembered the blood.)

And Father. How was he going to react? Felix not only snuck out, but he also won't be returning until past three in the morning with a gunshot wound. Honestly, Felix might as well kiss his social life goodbye right now. (And who knew he’d started to treasure it so much?)

I need to get home. 

Le Paon shuffled on the bed to get up. He wasn’t sure how he would make this up to Marinette, but he definitely would. Maybe he could pay for a new comforter? Or simply pay her in general for the trouble of-

“Le Paon? Is that you?”

Le Paon froze at the sound of Marinette’s voice. Should he answer? Would she let him leave if he did?

Before he could decide, Marinette scaled the ladder, confirming that he was, in fact, the one making all the noise. 

“Oh, good. You’re up.” She said with a soft smile, as if this entire situation wasn’t completely jarring. “How’s your waist. Are you feeling okay?”

Le Paon, despite feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, nodded. “Much better thanks to you.”

Marinette breathed a small sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. You really had me worried.” 

Le Paon grimaced, guilt panging in his chest. It was three in the morning, and he had dragged blood and filth into her bedroom- she still had some stains on her shirt, to his horror -but she was still wide awake and checking on him with a smile. Had she stayed up this whole time to watch him?

“I’m sorry.” The words fell from his lips before he could finish wallowing in his guilt. “I shouldn’t have come to your house. You shouldn’t have had to take care of me. Now you have stains everywhere.”

Marinette waved off his apologies. Of course she did. It was who she was. “You probably should have been more careful, but don’t ever apologize for having me take care of you. We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m here for you.”

Le Paon stared at her, wondering how someone could possibly be so kind.

“Besides,” She continued with a teasing smile. “Did you think I was just going to let you die?”

Le Paon swallowed, lost in the sparkle of her eyes. “No.. No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” 

Marinette knelt down next to the bed, eyeing his bandages. “Do you remember what happens? You said something about the police and gunshots before you passed out.” 

Ah, so that’s why he didn’t remember getting to Marinette’s bed. “I was roaming around Paris and found a pack of police officers, but I sort of forgot I was a criminal, so.. I didn’t expect the rounds of gunfire that they started shooting at me.”

Marinette pressed her lips together in a thin line, obviously displeased. “They just started firing? That’s a bit rash.. I feel like there should have been other, less painful methods that came first.” 

Le Paon shrugged. “Well, I am a terrorist.”

Bad choice of words. Marinette frowned. “You don’t have to be.” 

He stares at her. She stares back. A silent pleading between the two.

“I have to get going.” Le Paon finally murmurs. “I’ve already been out too late.”

Another sigh left Marinette, but she obediently scooted back to give him some to get up. “Are you sure you’re well enough to move like that?”

Le Paon offered her a small smile as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll be fine.”

Marinette stood as well, following him to the other ladder that led to the balcony. “Okay.. just don’t push yourself.”

“No promises.” Le Paon joked as he grabbed the bar of the ladder. “Thank you, though. For everything.” 

He climbed up the ladder, noting the significant lack of pain coming from his injury. He’ll have to thank Duusu for that later.

Le Paon hoisted himself through the trapdoor and swung his feet upwards, onto the balcony, but before he could stand up again-

“W-Wait!” Marinette said, tugging on his wrist. She’d followed him right up the ladder too.

Le Paon looked down at her. “Yes?”

She pulled away, pressing her forefingers together with a nervous look. “I.. Um.. you…”

Marinette leaned forward before he could even blink and pressed a light, hesitant kiss to his cheek. “Be safe.” 

Le Paon exhaled at the touch of her lips, so soft and yet so burning on his skin. It infected his very being, poured into every bit of body as his mind slowly came to realize what happened. She’d kissed him. Marinette had kissed him on the cheek. It was a common thing to do in Paris usually, but this felt different. He felt different, and he couldn’t help wanting more. 

Le Paon reached forward and cupped her cheek. He’s not sure how a single emotion or urge can consume someone so wholly, but his lips find hers in an instant. 

Marinette stiffened, causing him to pull back slightly. He should’ve known she wouldn’t reciprocate it. Not when he’s dressed like a villain.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” 

Marinette tugged him forward, crashing her lips onto his and effectively cutting off his apology. 

Le Paon moaned, letting his arms slip around her to pull her closer. Any thoughts or guilts or worries were drowned out far too easily by the fireworks in his soul. Her hands raked through hair, igniting every part of his skin that she touched. How could a kiss be so sweet and so passionate at the same time? 

They broke apart for air, but Felix wasn’t certain he’d never need oxygen again if he only had her. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He panted, because it was the right thing to do. Even if a bigger part of him wanted to stay, Le paon needed to leave. For both their sakes.

Marinette’s eyes met his, and he was tempted to stay all over again. “.. Do you have to go?”

Oh, if that sentence didn’t burn him alive. 

He shifted to stand, but his hands remained on her, almost like he needed permission to leave. Or maybe he just didn’t want to let go until he had to. “Goodnight.”

Marinette pursed her lips and slowly untangled her hands from his hair. “Goodnight.”

And just like that, he was gone, bounding across rooftops, longing to taste Marinette one more time, and knowing full well that he wasn’t getting anymore sleep that night.

Tag List:  @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @starlit-winter @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @uwuteamleader @chocolatecustarddanish @iambi-thilla-meena @corabeth11 @asianfrustration13  @chrismarium @agumon1123 @luciferge @yue-caelum @persephonebutkore @constancetruggle @make-the-stars-stay @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @tinybrie @procrastinatingrightnow @bee-wrecker @dontcallmecedge @shadowhex99 @daminette-is-life @thethirdwheelfriend @myazael @sizzling-fairy-oil @sparkle9510 @chaosace @the-navistar-carol @sannsibarr @grumpy-vixen-kitten @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @utcaro @more-or-less-human-i-guess @mlbutatbspofsalt @dawn-the-rithmatist @artcart0n @mermaidreject @tori-mmm  @fifaanayd  @novicevoice  @dreamykitty25 

#Felinette #Le Paon AU #Marinette #Felix Agreste

[miss-noo-na]

As Friends ( San Smut)

Title: As Friends

Featuring: San (ATEEZ) x Reader

Rating: NC-17 for smut

Summary: An old friend shows up at a party and you realize you’re both in want of the same thing.

Note: I had to repost this because Tumblr is garbage and cut off a huge chunk of the story in the original post. This is the correct/full version!

“Do you think we have enough?” Your best friend posited as she stood in front of the kitchen island lined with wine bottles, hard liquor, and a couple cases of beer.

“I think it’s more than enough,” You said from your position on the opposite end, pouring candy into a dish.

Next, she dumped a box of condoms into another decorative bowl, and you let out a laugh in disbelief.

“What?” She asked innocently.

“This is a party, not an orgy.”

“You never know!” She shrugged, and you rolled your eyes.

With the kitchen stocked full of goodies, decorations and lights up and on, and music pumping out at a medium volume from the living room you had a feeling this was going to be one of the best years yet.

It was your annual get-together with close friends, that over the years had morphed into a party slash slumber party. The longer you knew one another, the further people tended to move and had to travel, and usually wanted to partake in drinking. It just became the natural thing for you all to crash there that night, followed by brunch in the morning before you all went your separate ways.

Still, there was a nagging at the bottom of your stomach about what you were going to do when you saw him. You had been close for awhile but with his career taking off in the last year or so there had been less of that lately. You had always had a thing for him, but it was something you could bury deep down and live with most of the time. Yet, with his recent absence you thought it might help squash those feelings, but instead you were horrified to find it had the opposite effect. You actually missed him terribly and it only heightened everything, turning an innocent crush into a deep yearning.

He had a small break before spring activities and he had managed to squeeze the get-together in, saying he wouldn't miss this rare opportunity to be with old friends for the world.

It wasn’t just him that was bothering you, either. You had been without a partner for some time and for the most part it didn’t bother you, you had a lot on your plate and a serious relationship was not on the forefront of your mind. However, it was that time of year, just before Valentine’s day, when your loneliness was made ever so much more apparent by what was going on around you. Plus, you just missed intimacy altogether. You didn’t need a boyfriend, but you also wouldn’t mind someone to fool around with.

You were lost in your train of thought as you unwrapped some mints and tossed them into a candy dish, staring straight ahead as the fairy lights blurred across your vision. You were taken out of it quite suddenly by the doorbell, as small clusters of friends started to arrive.

You got swept up in the spirit after that, with lots of hugs and laughter, getting reacquainted with people, making drinks. Dinner was an assortment of finger foods laid out on the table so people could serve themselves at their leisure. Everything was in full swing and it seemed like everyone was there, except him.

You started to worry, checking your phone for the time and any updates. You even asked a couple friends if they had heard from him, but they all brushed it off, a couple joking that maybe he was too famous to hang out with them now.  It was all in good fun, but the idea still made you feel uneasy.

Curiously, you wandered to the front window and peered out, not seeing much at first, until a car pulled up. There was a moment and then a figure emerged and the car drove away. As the figure came up the drive-way, the porch lights finally hit him and his face came into view. Your stomach shot up into your throat and you quickly left the window to go busy yourself in the kitchen. A moment later, the doorbell rang and someone else opened it.

There was a chorus of friendly greetings as everyone congregated near the door. You hung back, approaching sneakily from the rear. As your friends dispersed he came into vision in front of you, and smiled wide, his eyes creasing.

“Hey, you.”

He was always an affectionate sort, but you still hadn’t expected him to scoop you up into such a tight hug.

“Hi, San.” You said sheepishly into his shoulder before he let you go.

He looked a little different from the last time you saw him, but that wasn’t unusual given how often his appearance had to change these days. What remained the same was his cute smile and his warmth as he greeted his friends, and you knew you were in trouble.

You counted it as both a good and bad thing that he was the talk of the party, and that everyone was vying for his time, wanting to catch up and hear about his new life as an idol. Good because you were able to focus on your friends and get your mind off what seeing him again was doing to your head and heart. Bad because deep down you wanted his attention, you were secretly pleading for him to look your way, talk to you, anything.

It became easier to deal with after you had a few drinks and got lost in conversation with a small group. You were laughing so much your cheeks were starting to hurt, and you felt warm and cozy among your kindred spirits. You were so consumed in the stories and jokes you didn’t see or even feel San come to sit next to you on the crowded couch, squeezing between you and another friend.

Then you heard a joyful and distinct laugh echoing into your ear, and you swallowed hard noticing his thigh pressed into yours as he leaned forward to join the conversation. You peered at him from the corner of your eyes and oh boy, was he handsome, especially in this light and through your wavy, slightly tipsy vision.

You averted your eyes quickly and tried to get back into the conversation, but you were all too aware of how close he was and it was making it difficult to concentrate. You excused yourself to the bathroom to get a grip.

In the mirror you had a mental conversation with your reflection, chastising yourself for  acting this way.

“We’re not 16 anymore, get it together.”

After you exited you headed for the kitchen, happy to find yourself alone for a moment. After getting a water bottle from the fridge, you turned only to almost walk right into San. You gasped and stepped back, and he caught you by your arms.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, though he seemed a little amused by your reaction.

“It’s fine.” You said, glancing down at his hands, and he quickly let you go, sticking them into his pockets instead.  He seemed nervous, which further confused you.

“Hey, have you been avoiding me?” He asked suddenly, and you blinked at his observation. You didn’t think you had been so obvious.

“No, of course not,” You lied with a fake laugh. “Why would you think that?”

“It seems like every time I get near you, you run to the other side of the house,” He painted the comment in humor, but there was a hint of seriousness laced in his tone.

“Oh, well, it’s not intentional. Besides, a lot of people here wanna talk to you, I don’t wanna get in the way.” You looked down at your water bottle.

“You know, I thought about not coming.” He said, making you raise your head.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I knew things would be different, that some people I was just acquaintances with would suddenly want to know everything about me, I wasn’t looking forward to it at all.”

You felt bad for him, he just wanted to be normal for a little while and he was getting hounded even by his own friends.

“But I thought about seeing the people I was really close to, like you, and I decided to come anyway.”

Heat built up around the apples of your cheeks and you tried not to look at his face. “I’m glad you came.”

Awkward silence followed, and you were having a hard time avoiding his gaze, especially because he never stopped looking at you. He had a stare that could pierce right through you and you felt it more than ever now.

“I guess we should go back to the party, eh?” You offered, moving passed him, and he followed you back into the living room.

After a couple of raucous yet innocuous debates, drinking games, and reminiscing, things started to wind down. The ones who were already too far gone were being guided to the upstairs loft where air mattresses, blankets, and pillows waited for them. The more sober of the group did a half-clean up job, turned off the music, and started shuffling to find their places to sleep for the night. By the time you got done doing what you could with the kitchen, you found the loft full of drunk bodies all piled together.

You didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, so you gathered some blankets and pillows for yourself and patted downstairs. The couch was much too small, so you threw the cushions onto the floor and made yourself a bed. You took your bag into the bathroom to change into something comfy and remove your make-up.

When you came out, you found San  throwing a blanket over the now bigger makeshift bed, a few more added cushions and blankets.

“Oh, was this yours?” He asked, and you nodded.

“There isn’t anywhere else to sleep so I thought…”

“I don’t mind sharing.” You blurted out, then wondered if that sounded desperate.

It shouldn’t have, you thought realistic. There were plenty of times when the two of you were young that you had all fallen asleep on the floor at a friends house or in the backseat of a car. Although typically there were other people there; but those other people were right upstairs, so it wasn’t too weird, right?

The cushion-bed was big enough that when you came to sit on one side, there was a nice gap between you and San, who you noticed had also dressed down for the night.

You were fluffing your blankets and wondering if you should turn the string of fairy lights off, deciding that they gave the room a nice glow and you might just sleep with them on. Lost in these thoughts, you noticed San staring at you, and peered over at him.

“I’ve never seen you without make-up, I just realized.”

A swell of embarrassment started to wash over you, and he must have noticed.

“It’s not a bad thing. You look different but like, good different.”

He didn’t exactly have a way with words and the mortification was only increasing.

“You’re really pretty like this. I mean, you’re pretty with make-up too, it’s just-” He stopped and buried his head in his hands for a moment. “Sorry, I’ll stop talking.”

Now that embarrassment turned into a creeping blush you tried to ignore.

You finally got situated and fell onto your back, San following a moment after you. You both stared up at the ceiling, wide awake. A thought was brewing in your head and you were debating whether you should say it. Knowing he would have to leave again soon, you decided you might as well.

“Thanks for saying that.” You spoke into the quiet living room.

He let his head fall toward you. “Saying what?”

“That I was pretty, it was nice to hear.”

You stared straight up and swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering if it was lame to admit that to him.

“You’re welcome.” He spoke quietly, and gave it a moment. “What, there isn’t a line of boys telling you you’re pretty?” He smiled and you peered over at him and laughed at his cheeky expression.

“Not quite. It’s been a long time.”

“Well that’s disappointing,” He started, and seemed to think for a moment more. “But also I can relate.”

You were the one that laughed this time, louder than you should have. “Oh please. You literally have gaggles of fans that probably tell you how hot and amazing you are every day.”

His smile slowly curled into something more sinister. “Did you just say I was hot and amazing?”

You sank your teeth into your tongue, “I’m just saying..that’s what they’re...you know what i mean!”

He chuckled, always too good at teasing you.

“No, you’re right, and that’s nice. But it’s not a replacement for a real human connection, you know?”

You nodded. “True.”

“To be honest I think I’m touch-starved.” He looked back up and seemed to laugh at himself. “Hugs and pats from my members are fine but it’d be nice if it were someone I was actually attracted to.”

“I’m not even as busy as you are and I feel the same. I don’t know, it’s hard finding people you can trust that you actually like. It’s not even like I need them to stay with me forever, it would just be nice to be close to someone.”

You realized you were rambling but when you looked over at San he watched and listened with rapt attention.

“I get it.” He said in a near-whisper, and with his sleepy eyes and soft voice he really wasn’t helping your current situation.

“Do you ever think about..” He trailed off and cast his eyes down, “Nevermind, forget it.”

“Tell me,” You were too curious not to ask.

He waited before he spoke again. “Do you ever think about hooking up with one of your friends? Or just someone you know really well?”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened, that was the last thing you expected him to ask. Even if you were good friends, this was an area of personal you usually didn’t get with him.

“I mean, not really. There isn’t anyone I could see myself doing that with.”

You were, of course, lying through your teeth. That person was laying right next to you.

“Not even me?” He asked, and the way he grinned after made all the color drain from your face. You fumbled over your response and he laughed.

“I’m kidding, it’s okay.”

You clamped your mouth shut and tried to hide your disappointment.

“Unless you don’t want me to be kidding.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a little upset at how real he sounded now. “Stop playing with me.”

“I’m being serious.”

You swallowed hard. “What exactly are you saying?” You asked, needing to know what he was getting at so you didn’t make a fool of yourself.

He scooted himself closer to you, laying on his side facing you as he did so.

“I’m saying that we both need the same thing, and maybe we could help each other. You know, as friends.”

You could feel your breath pick up in your chest, wondering if you had actually heard him correctly. Was this actually happening? And was he actually asking you?

Your silence and bewildered eyes seemed to startle him. “Sorry, am I being weird? I’ll stop.”

You found yourself shaking your head. “No, you’re fine, I’m just a little surprised.”

“Really? I mean, we all have needs, right?” He laughed.

“I’m more surprised that you’re asking me.”

It was his turn to look confused. “It makes perfect sense to me. We’ve known each other for a long time, I trust you, and you’re really cute, so why not?”

Well, when he put it that way….

“So what like here? Now?” You asked, knowing your friends were right upstairs. Most of them were too drunk or fully passed out to know or care, yet the more you thought of it, the more it thrilled you.

“We could just see where it goes?” He offered, coming even closer to you now, gesturing for you to turn toward him. When you did, he reached out to touch your face and you sucked in a breath, wondering how you were going to get through this without exploding.

You avoided his eyes as he caressed down your cheek, until you were aware of him coming to kiss you. Your vision fell to his face just as he tipped your chin up with his fingertip and let his lips fall to yours. Your eyelashes fluttered for a moment before closing and taking in his scent and the feel of him soft and warm against your mouth. You kissed him back and that only pushed him deeper to you still, until his lips were parting ever so slightly. It was sensual and slow, and you felt a tingle rise up from the pit of your stomach.

When he pulled back he stayed close, and let out a small laugh as he trailed his finger across your nose.

“You’re blushing,” He said quietly, which only made it worse as you squeezed your eyes shut and scowled.

“It’s cute.” He uttered before he came down to kiss you again, more deliberate this time as he swiped the outside of your lips with his tongue searching for entrance, and you parted them breathlessly to grant it. He cradled your face, brought you closer.

You were content to lay here and kiss him all night, which after a couple minutes of intense making out it seemed like you just might. However, San clearly had more ideas, as the hand at your face now drifted down your neck, across your collarbone, and to the front of your shirt. It fell past the fabric, barely brushing it, but enough to send a chill through you. His hand hesitated at the hem, and he detached long enough to speak in a hushed tone.

“Is it okay if I…” He trailed, his fingertips slipping underneath just an inch to emphasize what he asked. You nodded, and before you could even verbalize it his mouth captured yours once more, more hungry than before. The hand moved up inside your shirt and you jolted a little when he came in contact with the skin on your stomach, but he continued upward to your chest, clad in a cloth tshirt bra for sleeping.

He flowed from one movement to the next so effortlessly, there was nothing awkward or stilted about him and it made you relax into him more and more. As his hand cupped one breast he broke from your mouth to trail kisses down your neck and you found yourself curling into him, burying your face in his to conceal the tiny sounds his touch forced out of you. It really had been too long since anyone had been this close to you, and it being San of all people made it almost impossible not to tremble at the slightest brush of his skin on yours.

The hand began a different journey, away from your chest and back down to the edge of your sweat pants, and he stopped again, running his fingers along it.

“Can I,” He managed through a shallow breath, barely getting it out. You reached up to hold onto his shoulder as you nodded and mumbled a “mhm” into the crook of his neck.

The hand slipped in to find the second barrier of your underwear, and only hesitated a moment before moving passed that, too. Your cheeks burned red hot as you tried to somehow bury yourself deeper into his skin, a mixture of wanting to be closer to him but also to hide how bashful you were. You felt silly for it, but it was a lot to take in at once.

He cupped his hand over you, feeling how hot you were against his palm and he pulled in a shaky breath as his fingers started to press their way between your folds, finding you already wet for him. He hummed in approval just before one finger went deeper, finding your entrance and stroking around it. You gripped his shoulder a little tighter and fought the urge to sink your teeth in him, both to stay quiet and also punish him for being such a tease.

He angled his head to the side and spoke against your ear. “You like this?”

This time your fingernails went into the fabric of his shirt as you nodded once more, knowing you had to stay quiet but also losing your grip on your sanity.

“Tell me, baby.”

His tone had turned from careful to devilish in a minute, and just hearing that pet name from his lips was enough.

“Y-yes,” You stammered. He chuckled low and pressed his finger past the threshold, just the tip of it.

“I didn’t realize you were so shy.” He commented, obviously loving it. “I know we have to be quiet, but every sound you make drives me crazy.”

In response, you pushed your hips toward him, making what you wanted obvious, and you could feel him smile against you.  In one motion, he pushed one finger inside you to the knuckle, elicited a gasp from you.

“Is that what you want?”

You raised your head and pushed back some. “Stop being annoying.” You said in a tone you had used with him before, which only amused him further. He seemed to be a little too delighted he had found a new way to torture you.

A second finger sneaked its way next to the first, and pressed into you a little slower this time, stretching you open with his digits. You gasped again, then quickly bit your lip to silence it. San pulled back so he could watch your face as he curled them up and in, stroking you from the inside.

You forced your eyes open and felt your entire body melt around his hand when you saw the way he looked at you, eyes dark and narrow, one side of his mouth curled, drinking in the sight, sound and feel of you.

Then his thumb came up to graze over your clit, and you shuddered hard, trying to swallow the whine that followed the feeling. He reveled in his control over your pleasure, and you would let him do almost anything he wanted right now.

“God, you’re so sensitive.” He licked his lips as he sped up the pace, eager to get more out of you.

As you rose higher and higher toward release, you suddenly felt him slow down, and you pouted at him for this.

“I want to-...” He stopped himself, looking like he was unsure of how to say what he was thinking. He opted to lean in and kiss you first, once on the lips before speaking near them. “I wanna be inside you.”

He was still languidly pressing his fingers in and out of you at an agonizing pace, which made it difficult to think straight, but you had definitely heard him right.

“There’s condoms on the counter,” You blurted out, and he gave you a confused look before laughing. “What?”

“On the kitchen counter, there’s a bowl of condoms. Don't ask me why, I didn’t put them there.”

San took this as a go-ahead and carefully pulled his hands out and away from you to get up and hop over to the kitchen. You heard a moment of rummaging before he came back and collapsed on the cushions next to you with a thump and a smile.

“Are you still alright with this?” He asked, and you appreciated that he checked in with you often.

“I am. Maybe a little nervous though.”

He reached out for you, pulling you toward him. “Why would you be nervous?”

“I haven’t been with anyone in a while and,” You shrugged, unable to come up with a better explanation.

“Hey, this is supposed to be fun, right?” He said, pushing some hair away from your face and making you look at him with his hand under your chin. “We’re friends, remember? You can trust me.”

You felt your stomach do something funny at his soft words. Suddenly, you were pushed back and he rolled himself on top of you, holding himself up and smiling down at you mischievously.

“Also I just want to make you feel good.” He lowered his voice as he said this, leaning down to trap you in a kiss. Feeling the weight of him on top of you was nice, and your hands sneaked up the sides to slither around his shoulders, one resting there while the other was at the base of his neck, the edges of your fingertips in his hair. He kissed you for another eternity and that alone was all the affection you had been craving. Yet, you were also aware of his growing arousal pressing into you and that created a whole new ache in you.

He made sure you were under the covers, mumbling something about having to be careful, you were out in the open after all, even if it was pretty dark in this room save for the fairy lights. He fumbled around with your clothing and his and you were too busy staring at his face to help, the warm glow casting shadows over his cheeks and eyes that only served to accentuate how handsome he was.

“Little help,” He said when you realized he was trying to roll your pants down. You picked your butt up and almost gasped when he pulled your underwear down with it. They came off your legs with some finessing and kicking, and once they were off he parted your knees with his hands. You gulped at the exposure, and how he wedged his body between them, pushing down the fabric of his pants enough to free himself of his cloth confines.

You chanced a glance down and quickly back up again, not sure if you wanted to focus on what he was doing with his hands or his face, both excited you in a nervous way. When he had finished with the condom, he tossed the paper away and came back down on his hands at your sides, nudging himself  closer, pressing your thighs apart with his hips.

“Ready?” He asked, and you could only rattle your head in response, bracing yourself as he started to push you open with his cock. It had been awhile, and you both felt the resistance, but he was easy and patient, waiting for you to yield to his persistence, stroking your hips and letting his eyes play across your body, clad only in your shirt  slightly pushed up and bare everywhere else.

Once passed the initial threshold he was able to sink himself inside you with ease, and you both bit back on the urge to make a noise, instead breathing out heavily. You felt full and his hands were sweltering when they pressed or grabbed at your skin. He started a steady rocking motion into you and his eyes fell shut, hair falling into his face as he concentrated on going slow.

You started to get lost in it, too, until a noise from the staircase startled you. Your eyes snapped open just as San dropped himself on top of you, pulling the blanket over his back.

“Shh,” He whispered into your ear, cradling himself over your body as someone came padding down the stairs. You were acutely aware that he was still inside you and you felt a strange mix of emotions, fear but also arousal, especially as you tried to hold your breath.

Luckily whoever it was didn’t turn on the lights as they stumbled their way into the kitchen, clearly one of the drunk ones.

You heard the fridge open, then close, then open again. You heard bare feet on the linoleum and a long yawn. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest and you could feel San’s blood pumping through him too as he held you close.

“Jesus, just leave already.” You said in a hushed tone, and you saw the hint of a smile on San’s lips as he fought not to laugh.

“Hey, who is in here?” The slurred voice yelled from the kitchen and your entire body clenched up, which unfortunately San could feel around him, and he buried his face in your neck to suppress a groan.

“Uhh, j-just me, trying to get some sleep.” You called out over his shoulder.

“Oh, sorry.”

The footsteps dragged back toward the staircase and you both waited with bated breath until it seemed like they were gone.

San moved again when he felt the coast was clear and it was your turn to laugh.

“I can’t believe you are still in the mood after that.” You giggled, knowing quite a few men who would have gone soft from the fear alone.

“I can’t help it!” He tried to say quietly but urgently, “You were the one tightening up around me.”

You felt some of your shyness slip away with his confession, knowing you were making him so turned on with just your motions. You held onto his shoulder and pressed yourself up into him, and he let out a panted “ah” sound against your neck.

“You feel so good.” He whined, and listening to the shift in his voice from joking to pitched with arousal only made you hotter.

The build up was gradual, and soon all laughter fell away, replaced with a lust expressed in small sounds and gestures. As he pulled his upper body up, his eyes burned right through you, and you never thought a stare alone could make you fall apart like this, but here you were, fighting to hold your moans and rational thoughts.

One of his hands trailed down your stomach and between your legs, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing in small circles. Your back arched up and you latched onto his forearm, trying to gain some control but feeling yourself tumbling toward release instead. He enjoyed the response, that sly little smile painted across his lips once more as he picked up the pace, driving you forward.

“I need you to come for me.” He said with a hint of desperation, not wanted but needed you to. He was wholly focused on pleasing you and wasn’t going to stop until you got there.

Your body seized up, nails digging into his wrist, teeth in your bottom lip, ready to fall over the edge. San leaned down, driving his hips into you harder as his barely-there voice rushed out against your lips.

“That’s it, baby.”

His pleas continued until you came undone underneath him, fighting hard not to make too much noise but a couple strained moans slipping by. San had already started before you could finish, your pulsing around his cock driving him over the edge unexpectedly as he bowed forward and muffled his yelp into your shoulder. His hips stuttered until they stopped, and he used the last of his strength to pull out of you.

“Um, i'll be back.”

He scurried away into the darkness to get cleaned up and you couldn’t help but laugh, pulling your sweats back on and heading to another guest bathroom to do the same. Once you were refreshed, you nearly ran into each other in the hall and both clutched at your chests thinking it was someone else, then dissolved into a fit of giggles.

You reached out for San’s arm, letting him guide you through the dark back into the living room, and you noticed the gentle smile he looked down at you with when you pulled him close to you.

“Was that okay?” He asked after you had crawled back into your bed.

“Uh, it was more than okay.” You replied truthfully, and he seemed satisfied with himself.

“You know what else I miss?” He asked, and you waited for the answer.

“Cuddling.”

Even after all you had just done, he could still make you blush.

“Do you want to? Like, as friends?” You half-joked, saying it in the same tone he had.

Without saying anything else he shifted toward you and pulled you back against his chest. “I have some bad news.” He whispered into your ear once you were settled back into his embrace.

“What’s that?” You asked through a yawn, your eyes drifting closed as the events of the day finally wore you down.

“I don’t think we’re just friends anymore.”

#ateez smut #san smut #ateez scenarios #san scenarios #ateez #choi san #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #kpop #fanfiction #repost

[jawritter]

Broken Me...

Ch. 4

Summery: The Dallas Convention couldn't have come at a worse time for Jensen. His world fell apart earlier that morning, but was expected to just act like everything was normal. You and a friend were at the convention for her birthday. Life hasn't been that great for you either, but a forced meeting on stage changes two worlds. Will you be able to put this broken man back together again...

Series Warings: Cheating, shitty marriage, Danneel is a bitch, I unfortunately have to put that as a warning because some people tend to get turnt up about it if you don’t... Smut, Crying, Suiside Attempt, brief discription of suicide attempt and recovery, depression, hints of self loathing, language. I think that’s it... Suicide Trigger warnings will be placed over each chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Language, sad Jensen, touch starved, angst, fluff if you squint.. I think that’s it for this chapter...

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2265

A/N: BINGE READ TIME!! As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is gold!! Hope you all enjoy this one!!

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****MASTERLIST****

“Jensen?” You hiss, looking up and down the hall, and then back at your sleeping friend before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind you..

Jensen stepped back a little in the narrow hallway, not wanting to crowd you, shifting his feet a little uncomfortably before looking back up at you with an almost a shy expression covering his face.. 

"Hey." 

You more than a little dumb founded, of all the people you expected to see standing in outside your motel room door in the middle of the night, Jensen was not one of those people...

You couldn't tell if he was angry or not. Personally you felt like everything was your fault. 

You didn't know why, but there it was... 

He and Danneel had obviously separated before he got here... 

Still you couldn't help the guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach... 

So you stood there examining your feet... Waiting for him to say something else...

"Hey." You echoed him.. Needing desperately to break the silence that had fallen between you. 

"Let's go grab a coffee down stairs, I think I owe you an explanation." He finally said after what felt like forever. 

You still couldn't look up at him for some reason, a strange feeling crossed between shame and confusion from all the drama making you feel more than a little stressed to even be seen with him in public right now..

"I'm a little underdressed." 

You were wearing an oversized, faded black shirt  that had Stewie from a Family Guy holding a bazooka on it that said 'I don't play well with others', and a pair of pink, purple, and black plaid pajama pants and ankle socks.

Jensen laughed slightly. 

"You look fine sweetheart, and besides, I'm not much better off."

Curiosity got the best of you at that point, making you really look at him for the first time since he knocked on your door..

He was wearing a plain white T-shirt, red and black pajama pants, and flip flops. His hair was sticking up at cute random angles, and his face was a little redder than normal, his eyes had an unnatural red tent to them, and looked as if he’d either had a little too much to drink earlier, or he had been crying.. It was hard to tell which...

"It's like 3 am, nobody is gonna be down there." He said, shifting his feet uncomfortably on the floor, and looking around the hall... 

He was a mess....but he still looked attractive as ever…

He hadn't shaved all day, so he had a nice five o'clock shadow going, and even though he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed after a long night out he still looked beautiful. 

There was a look in his deep green eyes… One you didn’t quite understand that just wouldn’t let you turn him away...

"Fine, let me grab my wallet." 

You turn to open the door to your room, but he quickly stops you as if you go into the room, you will just leave him hanging in the hallway... 

"I'll pay." He said, reaching out and grabbing your hand in his, then quickly letting it go as if he’d crossed some unseen line. 

"Okay." 

You silently followed him to the elevators and watched as he pushed the button to the bottom floor, both of you riding in silence, not saying anything until you both had your coffee ordered from the tired looking girl behind the counter, and found a booth in the very back of the kitchen/ eating area of the hotel..

There was nobody in sight. Just the desk clerk, and the girl working for the coffee shop. The hotel was almost eerie quiet compared to all the cayos and movement of earlier today with fans and vendors working throughout the hotel, now it was all but deserted...

"I'm sorry about what Danneel did." He finally said almost in a whisper, staring at his untouched coffee cup that was sitting in front of him. "You didn't do anything wrong, and you didn't deserve that. She was just pissed, and was attacking me. Still you shouldn't have been caught in the crossfire." 

He looked exhausted when he brought his hands up to his face, rubbing it harshly, and you just wanted to reach out and hug him..

"You can't control what she does Jensen. Don't worry about it. It's not that big of a deal." You tell him, not wanting him to feel like he owed you anything.

You definitely didn’t want him to feel like he owed you any sort of apology or pity..

"I read the comments." He said, staring you down now, his eyes are cold and hard, emotionless, and that’s just not like him at all. From what you’ve seen online anyway.

"It is a big deal. She was trying to make me look bad. Like I was the one who did wrong, and I didn't do shit." He said flatly, clenching his fist on the table in front of him. 

"I came home early from Vancouver. I was going to surprise her. When I came through the door I found her fucking a cashier from our brewery in our living room." He said, still staring you down.. 

You didn't realize your mouth was hanging open until he smirked at you.

"Yeah that was pretty much my reaction too." He gave you a hollow laugh under his breath. "I stormed out and drove here. When I got here I called her and in so many words told her it was over. I was filing for divorce." 

He wasn't looking at you anymore, just rambling like he needed to get all this off his chest. 

"She said it was my fault she was cheating on me...... Said she was lonely, and I was never home...." He broke his sentence looking down at his lap taking deep breaths to steady himself. The unshed tears forming in his eyes was enough to make your heart want to stop beating.

Reflexively you reach across the table, and touch his hand, he stiffened, but didn't pull away. 

"None of that is your fault. You didn't do anything to deserve what she did. As far as the post to the internet... You're the one that has to get up there in front of a room full of people to answer their......question." You tell him, but he's still just staring you down coldly…

But he hasn't moved his hand... 

The man was hard as stone... 

You could tell this had cut him deep... 

It's not something he would just get over or be okay with in a month or two, this was going to take him some time to get past everything she’d done to him, and you had a feeling it didn’t start today with the cheating, but he had been manipulating him and using him for awhile now..

"You don't even know me.......why are you being nice to me right now........ Is it because I'm famous.... I have money..... What, what's the reason you didn't tell me to go fuck myself like you rightfully should have? I pulled you on stage. I'm the reason there was even a video for her to post." 

You hadn't noticed until he'd stopped speaking he had laced his fingers in yours. 

It shocked you.....

His words were hard, but it was like he was doing all he could to seek affection and comfort from someone..

"You didn't do anything wrong. She's the bitch that made a post out of a damn cell phone video." You tell him, becoming a little distracted by his thumb making little circles on the back of your hand. 

"I don't care about your money, you can keep it. I don't care about you being famous. If you were a UPS driver or somebody flipping burgers at Burger King you still deserve to have better than what she’s done to you. 'Cause you were gone a lot and they were lonely.' That's the biggest bullshit statement I've ever heard, and definitely not a valid excuse for someone to be unfaithful." 

He was looking down, jaw clenched, so you decided to stop talking. Not knowing if you were pissing him off, or if he was just tired of talking about it because it was still pretty fresh.

"She wasn't the only one that was lonely." He said, one hand spinning his untouched coffee on the table. "She at least had the kids. I had nobody." 

You sit watching as his walls slowly start to come down, walls you didn’t even know were there until they started to crumble.. 

"I came home a little early cause I wanted some time alone with her... You're not human if you don't crave intimacy from someone, and I’m not talking about sex... Just to have someone to hold while you sleep... Someone when you wake up in the middle of the night you can roll over, and wrap up with so you don't feel so alone......so empty...... I just wanted to be able to be in contact with another person... Just for a little while before I had to be alone again." He still had a grip on your hand, but he still wouldn’t look at you, not directly. Like he was a little ashamed of his own confession.

You were pretty pissed at Danneel before you got down here, but now, now you were even more pissed. 

It wasn't fair what she did to him, she didn’t deserve someone like Jensen.... You wished someone would crave you like that, just to be near you… Yet she threw it all away...Then tried to blame him for her fuck up... 

"I wish I didn't feel so alone." He said, taking his hand from yours. You already missed his warm hand wrapped around yours. Your skin is still tingling where he’d been touching you.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just dumped all that on you. Come on I'll walk you back to your room. It's 4:30 in the morning, we both need to get some sleep." He said abruptly, standing and waiting for you to do the same. Walls firmly back in place..

The elevator ride to the 5th floor was a quiet one, and the walk to your room was just as quiet. You both stop in front of the door, facing each other. 

There was a look on his face you didn't recognize, pain, fear, loneliness maybe…

"Well I'd say goodnight, but... It's kinda already morning." You say, putting your hand in the door. 

Without saying anything Jensen pulls you by your waist into his chest, and for a moment you were too shocked to move, until you hear him take a very unsteady breath. The both of you just stood there holding onto each other for the longest. 

Finally, when you looked up at him, his eyes were unfocused, his mind somewhere else. Reaching up in a moment of boldness you touch the side of his face, bringing him back down to reality...

"Where is your room?" You asked, he looks at you confused. 

"Very end of the hall." He said, jerking his head in that direction. 

You break away from him and grab his hand, you lead him that way. He followed alone behind you, quiet and confused.. When you stopped at the last room he unlocked the door, still confused, but he held it open for you to come in.

Stopping just inside the door he turns to face you, his face guilty, and pained. 

"I'm sorry I can't do this." He breathed out, but before he could get too carried away you reached up again touching the side of his face. He leans into your hand without realizing what he was doing.. Or maybe he did… He was a hard person to read when he was acting, and this was no different...

"We're not going to do anything." You tell him, grabbing his hand leading him to the side of the bed. 

"I just couldn't stand the thought of you alone again tonight." 

Understand hit him hard, and the walls around him broke again, this time like a dam, letting loose a flood of tears in their wake. 

Lifting the cover he crawled into the bed. Holding the cover up for you to climb in too..

You climbed in the bed next to him, and he wrapped his arms and legs light around you. Taking another deep shaking breath. 

"Thank you." He finally whispers once he gets control of his emotions some...

"Let's get some sleep. You got a lot of people waiting on you in a few hours." You say, running your fingers through his hair, hoping you weren’t pushing him too far.. He was so hurt.. So broken... 

You don't know what gave you the boldness to do this. 

You just could leave him alone. 

Not like that..

Not that hurt. 

Not that alone. 

He didn't deserve what she did. He deserves to be treated like a damn God as hard as he worked for his family. 

Not to be cheated on and lied to.

After only 10 minutes you felt him relax, and his breaths deepen, finally falling into a deep sleep. You drifting off to your own deep sleep wrapped up in the arms of someone you'd had a crush on for almost 15 years. It wasn't even about that at this point though. You Couldn't stand how broken he looked. 

You just wanted to put him back together.

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Tag List: @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ 

Binge Tag: @sarahbaker2010​

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanfition #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen x reader #jensen x you #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #dark fick #hurt!jensne #x reader inserts #jawritter

[mopeytropey]

Author’s note: This moodboard for chapter 3 was not a shameless excuse to post Lincoln glistening and shirtless ... OR WAS IT? 

a beer buds series: chapter 3

(available below & posted on AO3 here)

Timeline: this takes place during chapter 3 of 'apu' after Clarke has gone running with Lexa but before game night at Lexa + Costia's apartment

Beer: Whirlpool NEW ENGLAND PALE ALE

Soft and citrusy, Whirlpool is Night Shift's flagship New England pale ale. Pours hazy blonde with a nose of ripe peach and grapefruit. Sips juicy, fruity, and crisp, with minimal bitterness and big clementine notes. A bright, vibrant beer that’s wonderfully drinkable and remarkably refreshing.

ABV 4.5%

Whirlpool: Night Shift (Everett, MA) Lexa slows at the base of an incline, bracing her weight with her hands on her kneecaps while catching her breath. Lincoln extends his run by a few extra strides, resting his torso against the black metal railing of an overlook that juts above the harbor. They stand just six feet apart, regulating their breathing, while pedestrians, cyclists, and young children in strollers filter past. Although the sun wanes, arching towards the water, its heat has soaked Lexa’s shirt and shorts so that the material sticks to her skin in several places.

“Bit more intense than your last run?” Lincoln asks when he circles back to stand beside her.

Lexa stands to her full height, using the bottom of her shirt to wipe sweat from her face. “What do you mean?”

“Octavia tells me you managed to coerce Clarke into running with you the other day. Somehow I can’t imagine there were any interval sprints in that particular course.”

That jolt of nerves—of which she is now regretfully quite familiar—at the mention of Clarke has Lexa shrugging off a laugh and heading for the shade of the Memorial Bridge overpass. Her mind betrays her in the worst way as visions of Clarke in running gear, jogging beside her and cracking jokes, resurface yet again. She would kill for some ice cold water.

Either to drink or dump over her head.

She walks with her hands folded atop her head, triceps stretching pleasantly as she leans against the bridge piling. The cold stone presses into her skin through the material of her shirt, and Lexa focuses on the sensation. Lincoln follows her with an expectant smile.

“Clarke can be coerced by nothing, I assure you. She was the one who asked to come with me.” Lexa kicks lightly at Lincoln’s chiseled calf muscle. “Anyway, I sort of lost my running partner when he started getting laid, didn’t I?”  

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” Lincoln laughs, defensively holding up his palms towards Lexa. “You have not lost me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not as available.”

“Guilty,” Lincoln shrugs. “But, come on, you know how it is. You remember.”

She does remember. Lovedrunk and saturated by lust and desire—that overconsumption of physical touch that leaves no room for anything or anyone else. She remembers those first few reclusive weeks with Costia, both of them cancelling plans and shutting out the world.

It feels like someone else’s memories. A fading mirage from another life.

Lexa nods, conceding with a short exhale. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

She stands to stretch her limbs and suddenly feels like she could run another ten miles.

“Let’s grab a beer,” Lincoln suggests, and Lexa is grateful for the change in subject.

“What—now? Where would we go? I’m disgusting,” she says, plucking her shirt from where it sticks to the skin of her stomach.

Lincoln bobs his head up the sidewalk, and Lexa’s stomach clenches to see the bright white siding of Dockside. “Octavia’s working. Let’s go bother her.”

“I need to shower,” Lexa stalls.

“Nah, come on.” Lincoln strongarms her, quite literally, by wrapping his arm around her shoulders and walking farther beneath the shadowed overpass. “The girls won’t care. We’ll sit outside.”

“Linc, I—“

“Nope, no arguments. Anyway, it’s Wednesday so Clarke is probably there too. Don’t you want to see your new best friend?”

Yes. All of the time. She is both the best and worst thing in my life at the moment. It is exceedingly problematic.

Lexa admits to none of this and instead allows herself to be escorted down the short path towards Dockside’s sunny patio. She angles her head so that she can see Lincoln’s face of self-satisfaction and scowls at his ridiculous smile.

:::

“You might not want to hug me, I’m incredibly sweaty right now.”

“Like that’s gonna stop me,” Octavia says, practically jumping into Lincoln’s embrace and landing a soft kiss against his mouth.

It’s brief and chaste, but Lexa nevertheless averts her eyes and lets her gaze fall across the boats in the harbor. They’ve approached the bar from its rear side, closer to the delivery hatch, crunching through the gravel lot that separates Dockside from the bridge.

“You guys are staying for a drink, right?”

Lexa quickly wonders if she can still sneak away for a shower and meet up with Lincoln later now that he’s got Octavia in his arms. “Actually—“

“Oh, no, sorry,” Octavia smirks. “That wasn’t a question. You’re staying.”

Lexa fully surrenders after that, following Lincoln and Octavia towards the patio entrance with a short laugh. Things could be worse than having friends hellbent on spending time with her.

It is this misguided thought that precedes Lexa’s gaze landing on Clarke through the windows that line the water.

Oh no, things are actually the worst they could possibly be.

Clarke in a strapless, summery dress. Clarke with her hair twisted at the back of her head in a delicate bun so that Lexa’s vision narrows to the shape of her bare neck and shoulders. Clarke’s bright smile as she spins to collect empty glasses from a table of two college-aged girls.

Lexa’s smile drains from her face, and when Clarke looks up to see her on the patio, she feels it like a punch to her abdomen.

She had not been wearing this particularly offensive dress during Trikru’s delivery this morning, and Lexa wonders if she often goes home on her long Wednesdays to freshen up and change clothes between shifts.

Perhaps she has a favorite customer coming in later whom she wishes to impress. Perhaps Clarke has invited someone to come visit her specifically, to make the gruelling shift more bearable. Perhaps—

“Grab a seat out here.” Octavia’s direction interrupts Lexa’s inconsequential thoughts.

Perhaps Lexa should stop theorizing about Clarke and her goddamn dress and pull her life together.

“There’s this obnoxious group of guys at the bar who keep trying to flirt with Clarke about kayaking,” Octavia continues. “I have to go rescue her, but I’ll be back with drinks.”

She leaves them with a quick brush of her fingers down Lincoln’s chest, and Lexa struggles to push images from her mind of Clarke being hit on as she climbs onto a stool across from Lincoln. The patio hasn’t yet filled with a late afternoon crowd, and she and Lincoln enjoy a minute or two of relative quiet.

Lincoln hadn’t undersold the location: the views at Dockside are stunning. The harbor is aglow as boats slice its shimmering surface. Lexa allows herself to relax under a setting sun. The sound of gulls in chorus with a quiet, perpetual clanging of cars going over the bridge soothe her previously racing thoughts.

When Octavia returns, it is with glasses of ice water, two, dripping pints of beer, and Clarke at her heels.

Lexa’s relaxation vanishes in a blink.

“Night Shift. Whirlpool,” Octavia says by way of explanation of their beverages.

Greetings overlap as Octavia places coasters and pints on the table, but Clarke’s voice, most prominently, rings in Lexa’s ears. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t know you guys were coming by today.”

“Yeah, neither did I,” Lexa responds, avoiding Lincoln’s eye as he kicks her running shoe beneath the table.

She studiously ignores the swoop in her belly when she catches Clarke’s playful gaze instead.

“You two look properly gross and sweaty,” she comments with that unnecessarily striking smile of hers.

“Pretty sure our run was just a bit more intense than the casual little jaunt you and Lexa did the other day,” Lincoln teases.

“Hey!” Clarke reaches across Octavia for the sole purpose of pinching Lincoln’s bicep until he squirms. “I was remarkably athletic and agile, thank you very much.”

“Yes, we’re all incredibly proud of your fitness,” Octavia adds, condescendingly patting the top of Clarke’s head.

Clarke turns to Lexa. “Tell them!”

“Your endurance should be commended,” Lexa tells her entirely straight-faced.

“I hate all of you,” Clarke responds, narrowing her eyes at the three of them.

Lexa plucks at the strap of her damp tank top and represses a grin. The movement curbs Clarke’s teasing smile when she spies Lexa’s hand.

“How’s your hand?”

Lexa looks at the bandaging wrapping her right palm, almost as if she had forgotten it was there.

“Oh. It’s fine. It didn’t bother me at all during the rest of my deliveries. Stings a little now—probably from all of the gross sweat.”

Clarke rolls her eyes as Lincoln finishes a sip of beer and asks, “What happened?”

“I caught that sharp edge on the truck latch this morning.”

“Shit, I keep forgetting about having that looked at,” Lincoln says. “Did you let Indra know?”

“Yes. I had to fill out paperwork for the injury, and she said she’d have the latch replaced.”

“Why don’t you come inside and let me change the bandage.”

Having Clarke’s doting attention when it’s just the two of them is challenging. Withstanding her genuine care and concern in front of their friends is horrible.

“Oh, you don’t have to—it really doesn’t feel that bad, Clarke.”

“Hey listen, I’m not covering your deliveries tomorrow if that thing gets infected and gangrenous,” Lincoln tells her.

Lexa shoots him a look across the table for his ludicrous commentary.

“There’s no sense in you sitting there in pain just because you’re stubborn. I have all the supplies inside. Come on, it’ll just take a minute,” Clarke says and then hesitates as if she had briefly considered reaching out for Lexa’s upturned hand.

Lexa squeezes her fingers into a fist, sending a sharp, stinging pain against her injured palm. It does nothing to lessen the image of Clarke reaching out to her, but it curbs her own reckless impulses to run her fingers along the delicate curve of her shoulder just to see if—

She buries the thought and swallows hard.

“Okay,” she finally says, sliding from her stool so that she is stood beside Clarke. Eye-to-eye with Clarke’s stunning blue gaze. “Thanks.”

A tingling suspicion runs up the back of her neck as she trails behind Clarke off the patio. When they enter the cooler, darker interior of Dockside’s main room, Lexa turns to see Lincoln and Octavia huddled together and ignoring them completely.

Her paranoia—among other things—is really getting out of hand.

Clarke leads them behind the bar counter and through a swinging door into the kitchen. Lexa has never had such unfettered access to this section of Dockside, and she suddenly feels acutely aware of her damp hair and running clothes underneath the bright fluorescent lighting. Clarke grabs a plate of something from the salad line, says a quick thank you to the woman removing stems from baby spinach leaves, and they exit through another door into a dim hallway.

“My corner office with a view,” Clarke says upon approaching a heavy-looking wooden door. “Just kidding, there’s no windows in here.” She bangs open the door with her hip and steps inside, waiting for Lexa to follow her. “But, it’s where I keep the first aid kit.”

Lexa steps across the threshold with a timid smile. She’s never been inside Clarke’s office and already it feels like a line she should not have crossed. When Clarke had patched her hand that morning, they had stood in the drafty storage room with its high ceilings and spacious shelving lining the walls. It was a familiar space and vastly different atmosphere.

This room is cramped and dim. Intimate. Lexa feels out of her depth within seconds.

Clarke sets down her plate of food to fetch the box of medical supplies and is already stood too closely. Lexa thinks she can actually smell her shampoo because Clarke is just that much shorter and her head is angled to focus on removing the old bandaging from Lexa’s hand.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Clarke says.

Her words are felt in short puffs of breath against Lexa’s upturned wrist. Lexa’s other hand fiddles the hem of her running shorts while her breathing shallows and her heart hammers loudly in her ears.

She hopes the tremors building in her stomach don’t translate to her hands. Particularly while one of them is gently held by Clarke’s careful fingers.

“Your mom is a doctor so I can trust you know how to properly assess a wound, right?”

“God no,” Clarke laughs. “She would probably be horrified by my technique. Or lack thereof.”

“Great. I feel better already.”

Clarke looks up at her with a smile so utterly devastating, Lexa thinks she should have risked infection instead. “I’m pretty sure you’ll survive.”

She wishes she had a modicum of chill when it comes to Clarke, but truthfully, she does not.

Lexa tries to keep her eyes anywhere other than trailing down the slope of Clarke’s shoulder, which is unfairly close and appears soft and smooth under the low light. She skims over the minimal clutter of Clarke’s desk to stop herself from shamefully ogling a close friend doing her a favor.

There is an assortment of hodgepodge frames that hang on the dark wooden wall behind Clarke’s desk. She sees a picture of Clarke looking much younger with a boy around her age, arms wrapped around each other and stood in front of Dockside.

She hears herself asking, “Who’s that?” before she can silently advise herself to mind her business and get out of this room as quickly as possible.

“All set,” Clarke says, and then turns to face the wall behind her desk. “Who’s who?”

There’s finally some small distance between them, and Lexa breathes out slowly. She looks down to her hand, freshly wrapped in soft white gauze, and flexes it twice into a fist.

“Thanks.”

Clarke’s voice is as soft as she has ever heard it. “You’re welcome.”

For a beat, they hold a steady gaze. It passes quickly, but not before Lexa’s pulse accelerates and her palms begin to ache with nerves. She breaks eye contact first, as she often does. She can hear Clarke quietly exhale a second later because the room is remarkably compact, but also because Lexa has started to believe that her body is attuned to Clarke’s the more time they spend in the same place.

Or, she’s just being dramatic.

“The, uh, middle frame. The kid hugging you outside of the bar.”

“Oh! That’s Wells.” Clarke walks towards the frame and plucks it off the wall so that she can examine it more closely. “He’s one of my closest friends and the reason I get to play bar manager at this lovely establishment.”

That has Lexa’s attention instantly, and she forgets her nerves in favor of learning something new about Clarke. “Oh, really?”

Clarke often does this—unintentionally creating distractions from Lexa’s problematic internal narrative. She drops these little tidbits of information that snare Lexa’s curiosity. Each time, it becomes easier to just relax and enjoy Clarke’s company without overthinking the way the air condenses around them when they are stood too closely. Between that and her penchant for terrible jokes, it explains why Lexa has been able to maintain any semblance of friendship.

“Yeah, we became friends in high school—we were both into the arts, so total nerds—but he left for San Francisco right after graduation. His dad owned and ran this bar for ages, but when his memory got worse and he had to retire, Wells more or less inherited a business he never wanted to manage.”

“And he asked you to take it over,” Lexa supplies.

“Yeah, he sort of caught me at an opportune time when I had no idea what the hell I was doing with my life.” She replaces the picture to its nail on the wall, crosses her arms over her stomach, and exhales a humorless laugh.

Lexa raises her eyebrows and nods. “I can relate.”

“Right.” Clarke’s short laugh is the last lingering sound in the room.

The moment stretches, Clarke watching her as if trying to solve a riddle. Three rapid knocks at the open doorway interrupt the heavy silence, and Lexa is glad she isn’t forced to be the one to look away this time.

“Call for you on line one, Clarke.”

Lexa recognizes Mindy’s voice at her back and watches as Clarke smiles and nods. “Okay thanks, I’ll take it back here.”

“Okay, boss.”

Lexa can hear Mindy’s retreating footsteps a moment later and shifts on her feet to prepare her own exit.

“I should let you—”

“I’m just gonna—”

Words trip over one another until Clarke’s embarrassed smile matches her own.

“Thanks again for …” Lexa raises her right hand to show its fresh bandaging.

“Try not to be so clumsy next time, yeah?” Clarke sits at her desk with a smirk and Lexa takes one, measured step backwards.

“I’ll do my best,” she grins.

She thinks that if Clarke showed up to the delivery hatch wearing that dress next Wednesday, she may very well sever her entire hand from her body from sheer distraction.

“Okay, you should get out of here—Lincoln will think I’ve taken you hostage, and I’m very busy and important taking calls in my fancy office.”

Lexa laughs in response, backing her way towards the open doorway. If Octavia has stayed to keep Lincoln occupied at their table, there’s no way he’s even registered her prolonged absence. She mock salutes to Clarke once she is back in the hallway.

“I’m leaving, Madame President. Proceed with your executive responsibilities.”

Lexa exits the darkened hallway to the trailing sounds of Clarke’s laughter.

:::

#a beer bud series #apu #brewkru! #clexa fic

[spohkh]

miracle on cornelia street [dean/castiel]

so BASICALLY sarah @adanceinasnowglobe and i were talking about what everyone would be up to post-series -- yknow, like, now that theyre all safe and healthy n everythings cool and destiel is officially together. yknow. as happened in canon -- and we were like so obviously destiel get a house, and thats kind of the basis of this verse so !! this is the foundational fic for what i HOPE will be a series of fun lil day-in-the-life drabbles, from both me and sarah!! 

ehehehe :-) enjoy!

read on AO3

The house is a quaint thing, sitting low and snug under a pair of shady oak trees in a quiet suburb just outside of downtown Lawrence. Its brickwork face is weathered—definitely in need of a good power wash—and the roof is just as worn. The bottom step to the porch slants unevenly, and the porch itself has cracks in the concrete. There are chips in the paint on the window frames, the iron porch railing is rusting, and who knows when the gutters were last given a proper cleaning.

There’s a lot of work to be done, but standing there in the small front lawn, Dean Winchester can’t say if he’s ever seen anyplace else so perfect as the house at 3767 Cornelia Street. Dean’s house—his home. His home with Cas.

“Can you believe it?” he quietly says to Miracle, who has been sitting patiently by Dean’s leg. Miracle tilts her head and wags her tail. Dean looks back up at the house. “Yeah, me neither.”

The sound of a familiar car rumbling up the road snaps Dean out of his reverie. He rubs a knuckle at his eye and clears his throat and tries to look like he hadn’t been standing in his front yard about to cry while talking to his dog, christ.

The car rolls to a stop on the curb just in front of the house. The driver’s side door opens, and Sam slowly unfolds his ridiculous limbs as he gets out. It’s always a wonder how he can fit himself into a car at all. Sam gives a dorky little wave as he ambles over to where Dean is standing.

Dean peers behind Sam, trying to see into the car. “What, no Eileen?”

“Hello to you, too. Dick,” he replies snarkily. “She’s wrapping up a work thing. She’ll come over when she’s done.”

Dean sucks his teeth in disappointment. “Ah, well. Guess you can go home then.” Sam shoves at his shoulder. Dean just laughs and pulls Sam in for a proper hello hug.

“Why are you standing out here, anyway?” Sam asks when they part.

“Can’t a man just hang out in his own front yard? Accompanied by a dashing canine companion?” He leans down to pat Miracle on the head.

“I guess…” Sam looks down at Miracle. When she tips her head up and gazes back at him, Sam snorts.

“What?”

“Miracle on Cornelia Street,” Sam says with mirth.

Dean squints at him. “What?” he repeats, now more incredulous.

“You know—like Miracle on 34th Street. But we’re on Cornelia, so.” He nods down at the dog. “Miracle on Cornelia Street.”

“Dude.” Dean rolls his eyes at Sam’s goofy grin and starts walking up the path to the house, Miracle trotting behind him. “Shut up and come inside already.”

Sam follows after him, pausing just inside the threshold as he spots something on the doorframe. “Oh, classy,” he says, throwing a sardonic look to where D.W. and C.W. are scratched into the wood.

“Just wait,” Dean jokes with a toothy smile, “when I got the time I’m gonna draw a little heart around it.” He was joking, but now that he said it, he kind of wanted to.

Cas looks up from the stove when they walk into the dining room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s old AC/DC tees, the logo all but worn away from being washed so many times. He’s usually in some ratty tee or other when lounging around these days. But in honor of Sam’s visit today (Cas’ words) and to seem a little more dressy short of donning his usual button-downs (Dean’s private opinion), he’s also wearing the cable-knit cardigan Sam got him as a gift last Christmas. “Hi, Sam.”

Sam leans against the counter that separates the dining and kitchen areas, craning his giraffe neck to catch a glimpse at the stove. “Hey, Cas! What’cha cooking?”

“Nothing. Dean made it. I was just watching the pot so it didn’t boil over.” He locks eyes with Dean, his intent stare very clearly communicating I did not touch the chili I added nothing I did not touch the dial I was just watching it like you asked so don’t even start.

Dean just smiles as he walks past the counter and steps into Cas’ space. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, and busses Cas on the cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Cas replies warmly. He’s gazing up at Dean with those summer afternoon blue eyes, standing in one of Dean’s shirts and that dorky cardigan, and Dean starts to get full of that feeling from out in the front yard again. If they were alone, Dean would probably say something recklessly sappy like I am so stupid in love with you.

As it is, Dean clears his throat and turns back to Sam, slinging an arm around Cas’ shoulders, and says, “He did the salad.”

Cas sneaks him a knowing look before, thankfully, putting his attention on Sam without commenting on Dean’s hasty redirection. “I did the salad,” Cas agrees blithely, and places the salad bowl on the counter for Sam to see, seeming pleased with himself.

Sam looks between the two of them, an amused tilt to his eyebrow that Dean implicitly distrusts. He’s definitely thinking mocking thoughts about the two of them. But he just quirks a smile and says, “It looks great.” Shrewd little diplomat.

Cas shifts to the side to see past Sam’s shoulder. Sam glances behind himself before shooting Cas a confused look.

“She’s still at work,” Dean tells Cas, guessing who he’s looking for. “Sadly.”

“What, am I not good enough?”

“Of course you are,” Cas promises earnestly, just as Dean says, “Well…”

Sam’s opening his mouth to retort, probably something absolutely scathing, when his phone chimes. He pulls it out of his pocket, a smile spreading over his face. “Speak of the devil,” he says, then tips his head with a grimace, “as it were. That was Eileen. She’ll be here soon, so I’m gonna go wash up.”

“Bathroom’s down the hall—“

“Dude, I know where it is. I did help you guys move in.”

Dean spreads his hands in assent. “Fine, christ, I swear never to be a good host to you in my home ever again. Go ahead and go take your dump now.”

“I’m not gonna—ohmygodnevermind.” He turns on his heel and huffs down the hall, Miracle trotting after him, the tags on her collar clinking together jauntily.

Dean reaches past Cas to turn the burner off, then lands his hand on Cas’ hip. “Have I told you today how cute you are in that sweater?”

“Yes.” Cas brings his hands up to cradle Dean’s face. “Four times.”

“Make it five.” Dean kisses him. He pulls Cas into a hug, pressing his face against Castiel’s shoulder. They sway into each other. After a warm moment, Dean says in a low voice, “The first family dinner in our house.”

Cas hums a soft, contented sound in agreement. “The first of many,” he responds, just as quiet. Dean squeezes him tighter. He knows they’re both thinking about Jack and Claire, their bedrooms sitting empty and waiting for whenever they can find the time to visit—and Kaia and Alex and Jody with Claire, if they can, and Charlie and her girlfriend, and Bobby, and all the other wayward extensions of their sprawling family caught out in the wind. Their house isn’t big enough to host everyone, but with Sam and Eileen up the block and the bunker just a few miles out, there’s plenty of room to put up people who come out their way. Dean has the hope that 3767 Cornelia Street becomes a common pitstop for folks—a suburban Roadhouse, a tidier (much tidier) Singer Salvage.

Dean presses a kiss against Cas’ neck, and Cas breathes a sweet little sigh that pushes all thoughts about future dinners right out the window. Fuck, this dinner could go out the window, for all he cares. He kisses a little higher up, right under Cas’ jawline, before pulling back to catch Castiel’s darkened gaze. “How ‘bout we ditch the nag and go have a private party of our own?”

“Dean, no. I worked really hard on that salad.” He sounds perfectly serious, but the playful glint in his eye gives him away. Dean snorts, mumbling oh, forgive me, Chef Cas as he leans in again.

Just as they kiss, Sam walks back in. “Hey, I think something’s wrong with your sink–- oh, sorry.”

“Huh?” Dean reluctantly pulls away as Sam clears his throat, looking sheepish. “What’s wrong with what, Sammy?”

“Uh, with your bathroom.”

“The bathroom? Oh, what, you clogged the toilet?”

“Wha— N—  I DID NOT SHIT IN YOUR BATHROOM.”

“Then how did the toilet get messed up?”

“It’s the SINK, the SINK—”

“You took a shit in the sink?”

Cas pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dean…”

“What? He started it.”

“Started WHAT?”

Dean snaps his fingers. “The end of the world.”

“Oh! My god!”

“I guess technically, yeah, since god is our kid...” He turns to Cas. “Weird, weird lives we lead.”

Cas just shakes his head, clearly exasperated. Sam has given up on speaking completely and has fallen back on making a gesture like he’s one second away from grabbing Dean by the throat.

“I was there for all twelve years of it,” Sam says to Cas, “and I still can’t believe you stayed with this guy.”

“Well,” Cas muses serenely, “you’ve been here a lot longer than me.”

Sam grimaces when Dean throws him his best shit-eating grin. Nothing like his two favorite people bonding over how much of a pain he is.

The sound of the front door opening distracts them, and then a voice calls, “Knock knock! The life of the party has arrived!”

“Eileen!” Sam exclaims happily. Miracle takes off down the hall, Sam hot on her heels.

Dean chuckles at Sam’s unabashed excitement, then gives Castiel another peck on the cheek before moving away from him. “Can you put everything out on the table? I’ll go check out the bathroom sitch real quick.”

Cas catches his hand as he starts to leave, softly saying his name. When Dean looks back at him, Cas smiles and says, “I love you.”

Dean wonders if maybe three time’s the charm and he should just give in to what his body wants him to do. If a man has a right to stand around and cry messily anywhere in his own home, surely the kitchen would be the place to do it. The kitchen, after all, is the heart of any house.

But Dean doesn’t. He indulges in a little sniffle, Cas’ eyes glimmering with knowing in the soft light. Dean brings Cas’ hand to his mouth and kisses the neat gold band around his finger, and he kisses each peaked knuckle, and he turns Cas’ hand over and kisses his palm and his wrist. Then he lets go and puts his own hand against Cas’ cheek, and says his recklessly sappy thing: “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

And the glowing feeling inside him doesn’t settle, only grows brighter.

Whatever’s wrong with the sink will be just one more thing to a long list of shit to deal with. Their house needs work, no denying. But Dean knows they’ve got plenty of time.

#destiel #deancastiel #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural #my writing

[babygirl06301]

SPN S1 Review

I honestly have no idea if this post is about to be hella long or moderate, but I feel like a lot of my feelings got aired out when I was reviewing each individual episode, so I’m just gonna dump the rest of my thoughts that I’ve jotted down while watching this season here. This is basically gonna be me saying, “Wow, this was interesting,” or, “This is similar to/different from later seasons because…” These are all coming from notes on my computer, so they’re half-baked. Nothing too fancy or analytical, but I’ll be doing one of these for every season.

Random thoughts:

I don’t like the monster-of-the-week, episodic format that much, and a lot of those episodes this season felt average in quality for me. However, when you don’t have much else to focus on besides an arbitrary goal of the boys finding John to kill something they know nothing about, it isn’t so bad. Filler episodes suck more later because they’re often completely disconnected from the main story, which isn’t the case for most filler episodes in this season. Plus, the main stories later have more involved goals for the season than this one did, which made the filler episodes later more annoying. For example, if Sam and Dean want to hunt a Tulpa at a haunted house because John is off doing something somewhere, that’s fine. Kill the time. But if Sam and Dean really need to figure out a way to kill God, like, now before Chuck decimates every fleck of existence he’s ever created, maybe don’t waste my time with an episode about a wood nymph, you know? If the stakes are higher, then the quality episodes shouldn’t appear with less frequency. All I’m saying.

The tone, acting, and writing of these characters is so different. Like, when you know a show intimately, these kinds of differences between one season and the next are natural to you. It’s not like I wasn’t aware that the boys looking for their father feels a lot fucking different than the boys having a kid, but when you actually let yourself be aware of how much the show has changed, it’s kind of crazy. Like, if I just think about it offhand, I’m like, “Yeah, this is Supernatural.” But if I break the fourth wall a bit in my mind, it’s like, “Damn, I really did watch these characters and their actors mature for fifteen years, didn’t I?” Crazy.

There are so many episodes that end with the Impala driving down the road. Like, an aerial shot of it. And if the very last scene isn’t that, then it’s probably the scene right before the last scene. Until the last few episodes, that is.

I don’t know why I’ve written this down, but it’s easier to remember episode titles in season one because you can match it to the creature without having to remember the plot. Like, “Oh, the Wendigo episode.” I’ve also said in this same note that the folklore plots died out later on in the series, which is true.

A quote from my notes: “The show really does feel better with Cas, huh?” Look, I’m not gonna say that the S1 finale didn’t slap, because it did. However, I will say that Cas can brighten any episode up, so, had he been in the series from the beginning, the season finale may not have been the only S1 episode to slap. Not that there weren’t other episodes that were good, but you know. Also, this isn’t to say that Cas should’ve been around the whole time because him coming into Dean’s life when he did was exactly perfect.

They do this later, too, but a handful of episodes in the early seasons will be like, “Here’s a girl. Now, one of you Winchesters, go bond with her this instant.” And it’s weird? You don’t need to bring a girl in just to make googly eyes at one of the boys? You could just give her the story she was supposed to have but minus all the flirting?

So, Sam is meant to be the central character for the first five seasons, right? Yes, Dean is supposed to be his equal; yes, he went to Hell and had that whole storyline; yes, he’s Michael’s vessel, but it was always really about Sam, you know? Sam was the one who had the connection to the biggest, baddest thing imaginable (at the time), that being Lucifer. Sam was the one chosen for Lucifer. Sam was the one with the psychic abilities and the one to drink demon blood and the reason Dean sold his soul. Dean is obviously a main character with his own story, but Sam was meant to be the special one, yeah? But even so, Dean is such a beautifully complex character because he wasn’t special. You can see that, even in S1—that his specialness came from his lack of central focus. It’s almost like the plot was saying, “Sam,” and Dean went, “I’m gonna cause problems anyway,” and that’s awesome. I don’t know if that makes sense, but I just feel like Dean is the most interesting character in the entire series, and he wasn’t even the one S1 picked out as special.

Sam’s psychic abilities seemed a lot cooler when you didn’t know as much about them. Like, yes, Sam having those abilities for the purpose of housing Lucifer is cool and all, but it felt so much more mystical when it just seemed like something Sam could do for some reason. Not that that would’ve been a better payoff than what we get—it’d be stupid for the story to say, “I know a demon chose you to be the vessel of Lucifer himself, but the psychic thing you can do? Just a coincidence”—but it’s some food for thought.

John is barely fucking there even though his existence permeates the entire fucking season. I thought he was so much more present than he was in this series. They treated him like they treated Cas. “We said his name a few times, that’s good right?” No. No, it isn’t.

I hate the pattern the episodes have in S1. It goes: location name, bad thing happens in said location, Sam and Dean talk about said thing, they go to said location, they research and maybe flirt with some random girl, they fight, they drive away in the Impala. Like, nearly every episode is like that.

Without demons in the mix that often, the tone of S1 is really different when you compare it to every other season.

Dean is a lot more emotionally vulnerable in this season. I mean, he’s not sitting down with Sam to talk about his feelings all the time, but his emotions are definitely closer to the surface. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that he hasn’t had to emotionally shut down to protect Sam yet. Obviously, he represses things because of the way he was raised, and because he had to raise Sam; however, he still had John to lean on at this point. So, he hadn’t developed that habit of hiding his feelings and leaning on no one but himself yet as he did when he lost John. Because of that, he was able to be scared and tell Sam that he was afraid of losing his family and stuff like that. He becomes a way darker character in after John dies, and he more or less only leans fully on one other person for the rest of the series, albeit in a different way.

John saying in 1x21 that he wants Dean to have a home after Azazel is killed is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. For one, because John is aware that he deprived Dean of a real home, and by extension, is aware that Dean is damaged because of that. But also, it’s sad because Dean has lived 26 years of his life up until now without ever having a home he felt safe and loved in.

Dean running from a potential fight with Azazel in 1x22 is super interesting because he’s fighting to be a part of his family rather than simply fighting for them to be saved. Dean doesn’t want to die, isn’t willing to die. That’s something that definitely changes later. Big time.

Filler episode rate:

By my count, which admittedly might be wrong, there were 7 episodes that were primarily main story episodes this season and 15 monster-of-the-week/filler episodes. 

Now, in the early seasons, it isn’t as easy to separate the filler from the main story because almost every episode will deal with character conflict that’s tied to what’s going on with the main story. However, I called it a filler if the primary plot was just a random hunt. For example, I called “Scarecrow” a filler because, even though Meg was introduced after Sam and Dean have a big fight, the main plot is hunting a god.

My bottom 5 episodes in order:

These next two sections are based on my ratings of these episodes from my reviews of every episode. I’ve just ordered them, with one being my least favorite/favorite episode this season.

5.) 1x07: Hook Man

4.) 1x03: Dead in the Water

3.) 1x02: Wendigo

2.) 1x13: Route 666

1.) 1x08: Bugs

My top 5 episodes in order:

5.) 1x14: Nightmare

4.) 1x06: Skin

3.) 1x15: The Benders

2.) 1x21: Salvation

1.) 1x22: Devil’s Trap

My top episodes for Sam:

This section and the next will just be me bringing up some good points of development for Sam and Dean throughout this season. I mean, of course they develop almost all the time, but these episodes are some of the best/most interesting. At least, in my opinion. If you want to read more about my reasons, check out my reviews. Just search for “spn s1 reviews” on my blog.

1x05: Bloody Mary - Sam’s psychic abilities got alluded to for the first time during this episode, but it also told us how much Sam blamed himself for Jessica’s death.

1x10: Asylum - Sam’s resentment for Dean is voiced, and though he’s under the influence of a ghost while he talks about Dean, some of it is supported by development in other episodes this season.

1x14: Nightmare - Sam bonds with Max over their shared abilities and pasts. We also get to see that Sam initially related his own trauma when growing up to Max’s, even though he acknowledged that Max had it worse at the end. It’s an interesting point of development that Sam saw his upbringing that way.

1x19: Provenance - Through Sarah being a part of this episode, Sam reveals that he sees himself as dangerous because the abilities he has has put the people he loves in danger in the past.

1x21: Salvation - Sam reveals that he’s willing to die, and by extension, risk his family to get the job of killing Azazel done.

1x22: Devil’s Trap - Sam has to choose between losing his family through getting his revenge or losing his chance at revenge to save his family.

My top episodes for Dean:

1x06: Skin - Dean’s abandonment issues are touched on for the first time.

1x09: Home - Dean shows fear when faced with returning home and dealing with the trauma of what he went through the night Mary died.

1x12: Faith - This is the first episode that we see a serious internal conflict in Dean about the worth of his life, which is interesting, because we can see in later episodes that he doesn’t want to die. However, his attitude in this episode seems to suggest that he doesn’t see his life as valuable.

1x18: Something Wicked - Honestly, this isn’t my favorite episode in the world, but it’s the first flashback episode of the series; in it, you’ll see the reason behind Dean’s feelings of responsibility regarding Sam.

1x21: Salvation - Dean insists that nobody will die to kill Azazel, showing that he wants to be a part of his family rather than just saving them.

1x22: Devil’s Trap - Dean shows a darker side of himself in an attempt to get John back, and his fears of being unneeded by his family are revealed as well as his fears of losing his family.

Well, that’s all I’ve got for this season’s review. I’ll rate this season in my series review that I’ll write once all this is over, but my impressions right now are that the first season of Supernatural was all right. It didn’t necessarily walk in a straight line, but it still felt like there was a definite destination. And, on top of that, the season ended in one of the most banger ways an SPN season has ever ended. The monster-of-the-week stuff has made most of the episodes this season ones I would probably not revisit, but S1 is definitely still special. 

We’ll see if this changes later, but for now, my rating (and average, based on my ratings in my reviews) for S1 is ★★★☆☆.

#spn season reviews #spn s1 reviews #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #mary winchester #jessica moore #castiel #azazel #meg masters #destiel #spn s1 #spn s15

[masc-reader-insertss]

Relax- Michael Langdon/Mr. Gallant

Smut!! The whole thing. This is set post apocalypse, in the sanctuary, with reader being in a poly relationship with Michael and Gallant.

Warnings: Switch Michael, power bottom Gallant, top reader, threesomes, choking, riding

———

Y/N had never expected to survive the apocalypse, let alone be chosen to go to the sanctuary. He was grateful for it though, he always would be, he'd met the two loves of his life because of it, and that made this whole apocalypse thing worth it. Right now Gallant was underneath him, thighs wrapped around his waist as the made out vigorously. There was a mess of hands as they tried to rid each other of their clothes, a loud slam coming from the direction of the door snapping them out of their heated frenzy. It was Michael, and Y/N didn't think he'd ever seen him look this upset before. "Baby, what's wrong?" He frowned gently as he looked over at him, not tearing his gaze away even as he pinned down Gallant's hands when they moved to try and grope him.

"No one ever listens to me" Michael huffed as he sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm the goddamn Antichrist, and they all think they're better than me because they had money before all of this" Y/N cooed gently, reaching a hand out to hold Michael's jaw gently. "Sounds to me like they need to be reminded just who they're dealing with.." he murmured as Michael turned his head to face him, both of them ignoring Gallant's attempts to grab their attention.

Gallant tried to sit himself up, letting out a quiet huff when Y/N kept him pinned down. "Why don’t you just use your Satan powers or something, can't you like, send them to hell?" Gallant looked up at Michael, biting his lip a little. Michael just sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "I wanna forget about them now, I'm sick of the cooperative" he muttered, opening his eyes again to look at Y/N.

Y/N just nodded, pulling back to free Gallant from the temporary prison between his thighs where he'd trapped him. "Lay down, baby, you need to relax" he smiled, and Michael knew just what he meant by the glint in his eyes. Even so, he did as he said, sliding off his suit jacket and shoes as he moved to lay down on the bed. Quickly Y/N slid in between his thighs and Gallant moved to his side, Y/N moving his hands to unbutton Michael's shirt while Gallant captured his lips in a soft loving kiss. This was a normal occurrence for the three of them, Michael would come back from another meeting, upset and stressed out, and Y/N and Gallant would spend the rest of the night taking care of him and making him feel loved.

By the time Y/N had managed to get him down to just his boxers, Michael was already half hard, the gentle kisses having quickly turned into an intense make out session. Y/N say back for a moment and watched the two, Gallant already taking his spot sitting on Michael's hips, letting him grind his hard on against his clothed ass. Y/N brung his hands to Gallant's hips, kissing at his neck. "Gotta move so I can finish getting him undressed, baby.." he mumbled, and Gallant whined at that, obeying none the less. He took the time while Y/N stripped Michael of his boxers to rid himself of his own clothes, pouncing on Michael again as soon as he had the space. Michael moaned out, hands gripping at Gallant's ass as he brought a finger to tease his waiting hole. "He doesn't need prep.." Y/N interrupted, slowly taking off his own clothes. "Had him ride my face right when you went off to the meeting" the mental image that those words gave Michael made him moan pathetically, squeezing his eyes shut. "All he could talk about was how good it felt, and how bad he wanted to feel your mouth around his cock while I ate him out" Y/N was always extremely verbal when it came to sex, he knew how much the other two men enjoyed it too. "Maybe if you're both good, we can try it again tomorrow.."

"Fuck- please.." Gallant moaned out before he spat into his palm, wrapping his hand around Michael's cock to slick him up, and Michael nearly cried out at the feeling. He was so hard that it hurt, and once Gallant began to lower himself down onto his cock, Michael was sure he felt a few tears rolling down his face. Y/N just watched, a hand wrapped around his cock as he discarded his boxers. He was quick to join the two, gripping Michael's thighs just the way he knew he liked as he lent in to whisper in his ear, making sure it was loud enough for Michael to hear. "You think he's been good enough for you to choke him?" He asked, and Michael could have cried, fuck, he was crying.

Gallant smirked, turning his head to look at Y/N. "I dunno.. I think he should beg for it" an evil grin spread across his face at that, and Y/N pulled him into a kiss, nipping at his bottom lip. Y/N didn't even have to say anything before Michael began to plead, eyed half lidded from the pleasure that came from Gallant bouncing on his cock. "Please- I need it, I've been so good.." he breathed, looking up at the two men above him with a desperate expression that made both of them moan. It was enough for Gallant, and he brought a hand forward to wrap around Michael's throat, the heel of his palm pressing down just enough to limit the airflow. Michael bucked his hips up, and Gallant cried out as he rammed into his prostate head on, and Y/N decided it was time for him to finally step in. Michael was so caught up in Gallant that he hadn't expected to feel Y/N's finger pressing up against his neglected hole, and he instantly spread his legs, desperate for any touch he could get. Y/N grinned at that, not hesitating to slide his middle finger into him, wiggling it around till he found that spot that always turned Michael into a desperate whore.

"Look at you" Y/N tutted, quickly adding a second finger. "I bet you've just been dying for this, haven't you" Michael nodded, bucking his hips up into Gallant while he simultaneously tried to push back against Y/N's fingers. He couldn't even speak with Gallant's hand wrapped around him, but Y/N didn't need to hear him say it to know. His fingers were gone just as quick as they came, Michael loved the burn that came with the stretch of Y/N pushing in to him, it made him feel even more full, and Y/N knew that. After slicking himself up with his own spit, he moved in between Michael's thighs more, positioning his cock right against his hole. "Add another hand, he's been so good.." he murmured to Gallant, and Gallant was quick to obey, clenching around Michael for a moment while he added the second hand.

Michael cried out as Y/N began to drag the head of his cock against his hole, clenching around nothing as he waited desperately. He needed to feel Y/N, and he was going to go insane if his didn't get it soon. Y/N wasn't going to make him wait any longer, he'd been so good, he deserved it. Finally, Y/N began to push into Michael slowly, making sure he felt each and every inch of him as he stretched him open, and Michael sobbed. His body was on fire, every single part of his mind not dedicated to thinking about how incredibly full he felt shutting off completely. Y/N laid his chin on Gallant's shoulder, wrapping a hand around his cock while the other moved to rub at Michael's lower stomach. "Can you feel me in there baby?" He asked, and Michael could only nod, his eyes wide and filled with tears from the stretch.

Y/N gave Michael a few moments to adjust before he began thrusting, and both Michael and Gallant let out the most arousing moans he'd ever heard. "Fuck- keep doing that, you're making him fuck me so good" Gallant pleaded, bucking into Y/N's fist as he rutted himself down onto Michael's cock. Michael could no longer communicate, only able to spread his legs as wide as humanly possible to try and get Y/N even deeper. Each thrust made him buck up into Gallant' the feeling of Y/N stretching him open was heavenly, and he never wanted it to stop. All of a sudden Michael jolted like he'd been shocked, and the scream of pleasure he let out was just about enough to push Gallant over the edge, the harsh thrust that Michael gave as he moved giving him that final nudge that had him cumming all over his thighs and Michael's stomach. Y/N knew that he'd hit his prostate, and he grinned at that, his pace of thrust becoming brutal as he drove his cock into the same spot over and over, Michael crying out like his was being whipped, which would have no doubt been alarming to anyone who heard from outside.

"C'mon baby" Y/N encouraged, gripping Michael's hips while he thrust. "Cum for us, Gallant wants you to fill him up so bad, he's been talking about it all day" he cooed, Gallant nodding feverishly. Michael let out one last loud squeal of pleasure before he finally came, Gallant moaning pathetically at the warm feeling that spread through his lower region before he slid off to cuddle up to Michael. Y/N wasn't finished though, and as soon as Gallant was off Michael he pounced, grabbing his thighs and pushing them towards his chest as he drove his cock into him at such a brutal angle and pace that in a minuet Michael has already cum again, his release mixing with Gallant's that was left on his stomach. Y/N moaned at the sight, giving a few more harsh thrusts before he finally dumped his load into Michael, hunching over him while he came down from his high.

Once he pulled out, he pressed a gentle kiss to both Michael and Gallant's foreheads, stroking their cheeks and disappearing to the bathroom to grab a wash cloth. When he returned, both of them were cuddled up, not caring about the slowly drying cum sticking them together. Y/N had a hard time separating them as he wiped them down, pressing gentle kisses to their stomachs as he wiped down the cum slowly dripping from them. "You both did so good.." Y/N praised the two as he slid in between them, both of them cuddling up to him. It was times like this, watching the two loves of his life fall asleep cuddled up to him, that Y/N didn't feel so guilty for being happy about the apocalypse bringing them together, he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

#cody fern #mr gallant #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x male!reader #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x male reader #gallant x male!reader #michael x gallant #evan peters x male reader #ahs

[greatfay]

controversial opinions?

Cold pizza actually not good. Tastes like angry bacteria.

There’s a completely separate class of gay men who are in a different, rainbow-tinted plane of reality from the rest of us and I don’t like them. They push for “acceptance” via commercialization of the Pride movement, assimilation through over-exposure, and focus on sexualizing the movement to be “provocative” and writing annoying articles that reek of class privilege instead of something actually important like lgbtqa youth homelessness, job discrimination, and mental health awareness.

Coleslaw is good. You guys just suck in the kitchen.

Generational divides ARE real: a 16-year-old and a 60-year-old right now in 2021 could agree on every hot button sociopolitical topic and yet not even realize it because they communicate in entirely different ways.

Sam Wilson is a power bottom. No I will not elaborate.

Allison’s makeover in The Breakfast Club good, not bad. She kept literally and metaphorically dumping her trash out onto the table and it’s clearly a cry for help. Having the attention and affection of a smart, pretty girl doing her makeup for her was sweet and helped her open up to new experiences. Not every loner wants to BE a loner (see: Bender, who is fine being a lone wolf).

Movie/show recommendations that start with a detailed “representation” list read like status-effecting gear in an RPG and it’s actually a turn-off for me. I have to force myself to give something a try in spite of it.

Yelling at people to just “learn a new language” because clearly everyone who isn’t you and your immediate vicinity of friends must be a lazy ignorant white American is so fucking stupid, like I get it, you’re mad someone doesn’t immediately know how to pronounce your name or what something means. But I know 2 languages and am struggling with a 3rd when I can between 2 jobs and quite frankly, I don’t have the time to just absorb the entire kanji system into my brain to learn Japanese by tomorrow night, or suddenly learn Arabic or Welsh. There are 6500 recorded languages in the world, what’s the chance that one of 3 I’ve learn(ed?) is the one you’re yelling at me about. Yes this is referring to that post yelling at people for not knowing how to pronounce obscure Irish names and words. Sometimes just explaining something instead of admonishing people for not knowing something inherently in the belief that everyone must be lazy entitled privileged people is uh... better?

Stop fucking yelling at people. I despise feeling like someone is yelling at me or scolding me, it triggers my Violence Mode, you don’t run me, you are not God, fuck off. Worst fucking way to "educate” people, it just feels good in the moment to say or write and doesn’t help. Yes I’ve done it before.

Violence is good actually.

Characters doing bad things ≠ an endorsement of bad things. Characters doing bad things that are unquestioned by the entire rest of the cast = endorsement of bad things, or at the least, a power fantasy by the creator. See: Glee, in which Sue’s awfulness is constantly called out, while Mr. Shue’s awfulness rarely is because he’s “the hero.” See also: the Lightbringer series, in which the protagonist is a violent manipulator who is praised as clever, charming, diplomatic, and genius by every supporting character (enemies included), despite the text never demonstrating such.

Euphoria is good, actually. It falls into this niche of the past decade of “dark gritty teen shows” but actually has substance behind it, but the general vibe I get from passive-aggressive tumblr posts from casual viewers is that this show is The Devil, and the criticism of its racier content screams pearl-clutching “what about the children??” to me.

Describing all diagnosed psychopaths as violent criminals is a damaging slippery slope, sure. But I won’t be mad at anyone for inherently distrusting another human who does not have the ability to feel guilt and remorse, empathy, is a pathological liar, or proves to be cunning and manipulative.

It’s actually not easy to unconditionally support and love everyone everywhere when you’ve actually experienced the World. Your perspective and values will be challenged as you encounter difficult people, experience hardship, are torn between conflicting ideas and commitments, and fail. My vow to never ever call the cops on another black person was challenged when an employee’s boyfriend marched into the kitchen OF AN ESTABLISHMENT to scream at her, in a BUSINESS I MANAGED, and threaten to BEAT the SHIT out of her. Turns out I can hate cops and hate that motherfucker equally, I am more than capable of both.

Defending makeup culture bad, actually. Enjoy it, experiment, master it, but don’t paint it as something other than upholding exactly what they want from you. Even using makeup to “defy the heteropatriarchal oppressors!” is still putting cash in their pockets, no matter how camp...

Not every villain needs to be redeemed, some of you just never outgrew projecting yourself onto monsters and killers.

Writing teams and networks queerbaiting is not the same as individuals queerbaiting. Nick Jonas performing exclusively at gay clubs to generate an audience really isn’t criminal; if they paid to go see him, that’s on them, he didn’t promise anyone anything other than music and a show. Do not paint this as similar to wealthy, bigoted executives and writing teams trying to snatch up the LGBTQA demographic with vague ass marketing and manipulative screenplays, only to cop out so as not to alienate their conservative audiences. And ESPECIALLY when the artists/actors/creators accused of queerbaiting or lezploitation then come out as queer in some form later on.

Queer is not a bad word, and I’ve no clue how that remains one of few words hurled at LGBTQA people that can’t be reclaimed. It’s so archaic and underused at this point that I don’t get the reaction to it compared to others.

People who defend grown-woman Lorelai Gilmore’s childish actions and in the same breath heavily criticize teenage religious abuse victim Lane Kim’s actions are not to be trusted. Also Lane deserved better.

Keep your realism out of my media, or at least make it tonally consistent. Tired of shows and movies and books where some gritty, dark shit comes out of nowhere when the narrative was relatively Romantic beforehand.

Actually people should be writing characters different from themselves, this new wave in the past year of “If you aren’t [X] you shouldn’t be writing [X]” is a complete leap backward from the 2010s media diversity movement. And if [X] has to do with an invisible minority status (not immediately visible disabilities, or diverse sexual orientations and gender identities, persecuted religious affiliations, mental illness) it’s actually quite fucked up to assume the creator can’t be whatever [X] is or to demand receipts or details of someone’s personal life to then grant them “permission” to create something. I know, we’re upset an actual gay actor wasn’t casted to play this gay character, so let’s give them shit about it: and not lose a wink of sleep when 2 years later, this very actor comes out and gives a detailed account of the pressure to stay closeted if they wanted success in Hollywood.

Projecting an actor’s personal romantic life and gender identity onto the characters they play is actually many levels of fucked up, and not cute or funny. See: reinterpreting every character Elliot Page has played through a sapphic lens, and insulting his ability to play straight characters while straight actors play actual caricatures of us (See also: Jared Leto. Fuck him).

I’m fucking sick of DaBaby, he sucks. “I shot somebody, she suck my peepee” that’s 90% of whatever he raps about.

“Political Correctness” is not new. It was, at one point, unacceptable to walk into a fine establishment and inform the proprietor that you love a nice firm pair of tits in your face. 60 years ago, such a statement would get you throw out and possibly arrested under suspicion of public intoxication. But then something happened and I blame Woodstock and Nixon. And now I have to explain to a man 40 years my senior that no, you can’t casually mention to the staff here, many of whom are children, how you haven’t had a good fuck in a while. And then rant about the “Chinese who gave us the virus.” Can’t be that upset with them if you then refused to wear your mask for 20 minutes.

Triggering content should not have a blanket ban; trigger warnings are enough, and those who campaign otherwise need to understand the difference between helping people and taking away their agency. 13 Reasons Why inspired this one. Absolutely shitty show, sure, but it’s a choice to watch it knowing exactly what it contains.

Sasuke’s not a fucking INTJ, he’s an ISFP whose every decision is based off in-the-moment feelings and proves incapable of detailed and logical planning to accomplish his larger goals.

MCU critique manages to be both spot-on and pointless. Amazing stories have been told with these characters over the course of decades; but most of it is toilet paper. Expecting a Marvel movie to be a deeply detailed examination of American nationalism and imperialism painted with a colorful gauze of avant-garde film technique is like expecting filet mignon from McDonalds. Scarf down your quarter pounder or gtfo.

Disparagingly comparing the popularity and (marginal) success of BLM to another movement is anti-black. It is not only possible but also easy to ask for people’s support without throwing in “you all supported BLM for black people but won’t show support for [insert group]” how about you keep our name out your mouth? Black people owe the rest of the world nothing tbh until yall root out the anti-blackness in your own communities.

It is the personal demon/tragic flaw of every cis gay/bi/pan man to externalize and exorcize Shame: I’m talking about the innate compulsion to Shame, especially in the name of Pride and Progress. Shame for socioeconomic “success,” shame for status of outness, shame for fitness and health, shame for looks, shame for style and dress, shame for how one fits into the gender binary, shame for sexual positions and intimacy preferences, shame for fucking music tastes. Put down the weapon that They used to beat you. Becoming the Beater is not growth, it’s the worst-case scenario.

Works by minorities do not have to be focused on their marginalized identities. Some ladies want to ride dragons AND other ladies. The pressure on minorities to create the Next Great Minority Character Study that will inevitably get snuffed at the Oscars/Peabody Awards is some bullshit when straight white dudes walk around shitting out mediocre screenplays and books.

Canadians can stfu about how the US is handling COVID-19 actually. Love most of yall, but the number of Canadian snowbirds on vacation (VACATION??? VA.CAT.ION.) in the supposed “hotbed” of my region that I’ve had to inform our mask policies and social distancing to is ASTOUNDING. Incroyable! I guess your country has a sizable population of entitled, privileged, inconsiderate, wealthy, and ignorant people making things difficult for everyone, just like mine :)

No trick to eliminate glasses fog while wearing my mask has worked, not a single one, it actually has affected my job and work speed and is incredibly frustrating, and I have to deal with it and pretend it’s not a problem while still encouraging others to follow the rules for everyone’s safety and the cognitive dissonance is driving me insane.

It’s really really really not anti-Japanese... to be uncomfortable with the rampant pedophilia in manga and anime, and voice this. I really can’t compare western animation’s sneakier bullshit with pantyshots of a 12-year-old girl.

Most of the people in the cottagecore aesthetic/tag have zero interest in all the hard work that comes with maintaining an isolated property in the countryside, milking cows and tending crops before sunrise, etc. And that’s okay? They just like flowers and pretty pottery and homemade pastries. Idk where discourse about this came from.

You think mint chip ice-cream tastes like toothpaste because you’re missing a receptor that can distinguish the flavors, and that sucks for you. It’s a sort of “taste-blindness” that can make gum spicy to some while others can eat a ghost pepper without crying.

Being a spectacle for the oppressive class doesn’t make them respect us, it makes them unafraid of us. This means they continue to devour us, but without fear of our retaliation.

Only like 4 people on tumblr dot com are actually prepared for the full ramifications of an actual revolution. The rest of you just really imprinted onto Katniss, or grew up in the suburbs.

Straight crushes are normal. They’re people first, sexual orientation second. Can’t always know.

The road to body positivity is not easy, especially if what you desire is what you aren’t.

You’re actually personally responsible for not voluntarily bringing yourself into an environment that you know is not fit for you unless you have the resolve to manage it. Can’t break a glass ceiling without getting a few cuts. This one’s a shoutout to my homophobic temp coworkers who decided working a venue with a drag show would be a good idea. This is also is a shoutout to people who want to make waves but are surprised when the boat tips. And also a shoutout to people who—wait that’s it’s own controversial opinion hold up.

Straight people can and should stay the fuck out of gay bars and queer spaces. “yoUrE bEInG diVisiVe” go fuck yourself.