#and it's not going to go away because its the way I'm fucking programmed and I'm so sick of it i just want to be someone else

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

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

You think Miguel is avoiding you. 

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 

"I don't have time for this-" 

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 

"What happened?" He strains. 

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?" 

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

_

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#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #kat_writes😼 #this gif is fucking crazy btw

[wileys-russo]

I had a cute idea I wanted to share because I love the way you write!! Leah has back to back interviews from home and reader is sat on the sofa just watching her, falling more and more in love with how passionate her girl is. Leah gets all blushy and a bit flustered by the gaze. Just a cute fluffy one x

lock down II l.williamson

"-and then i've got another over zoom with sky sports at three and i should be done for the day." your girlfriend sighed, already tired by her day before it had even begun.

"no rest for the wicked huh?" you hummed, still laid down in bed as the blonde restlessly paced back and forth across the room. "god then i've gotta fit in our gym program too! do you mind if we do it tonight? i know we're not supposed to but that at least gives me a few hours in between." leah groaned in realization.

"leah breath! of course i don't mind babe, its more enjoyable when we do the program together anyway. i'm more than sure we can push it back a few hours and it shouldn't affect the stats too much." you assured her gently as the blonde nodded.

"so much for lock down! everyone's watching bloody netflix and making tiktoks but noo im memorizing scripts and listening to the same witty one liner over and over about how hard it must be to 'work from home' as a footballer." leah mocked, falling backwards onto the bed with a huff.

"but is it?" you questioned as she sat up slightly and turned her head to be able to see you. "is it what?" leah asked with a confused frown. "is it hard to work from home as a footballer?" you questioned with a frown of your own.

one which quickly turned into a grin as your girlfriend lunged at you, ducking your head under the covers as her bony fingers poked and prodded at you, your safety blanket ripped away as the blonde hovered over you.

"you think you're so fucking funny." leah rolled her eyes as your grin grew. "well one of us has to have a sense of humor in this relationship baby, you're not called captain grumpy for nothing." you teased, tapping your lips expectantly.

"cheeky girl." leah tutted but none the less gave into your request, pressing her lips to yours as your hands moved to tangle in her hair, deepening the kiss as she settled on top of you.

but no sooner did the taller girl slip her tongue into your mouth, hands gliding slowly up your bare stomach, did her alarm go off.

"why!" leah pulled away and groaned moodily, flopping down and burying her face in your neck making you chuckle and gently scratch your nails against her scalp as you tapped snooze.

"babe this isn't making me anymore inclined to get up." your girlfriend mumbled against your skin making you smile. "what if i promise to make breakfast and have it ready for when your first interviews done?" you whispered into her hair, squirming as the girl sighed.

"might be working a little." leah admitted making you laugh and press a kiss to her cheek. "mm and what if i make your favorite breakfast?" you hummed, still rhythmically scratching at her scalp.

"the williamson special?" she questioned, the words muffled into your neck but you laughed again. "the williamson special. an omelette with ham, cheese and not a single spec of colour, flavour or vegetables." you teased, squealing as she pinched your hip but pulled her head up.

"you promised not to mock my eating habits." the older girl frowned with a pout that you quickly kissed away. "no i promised not to mock them last week, todays monday. brand new day of opportunity!" you grinned, pushing her hands away where they tickled at the sliver of skin where your shirt had rode up.

"first my speech impediment and now my diet. you really are a wicked awful woman!" leah sighed with a shake of her head as you scoffed.

"my love we've been over this. you don't have a speech impediment, you're just from milton keynes." you whispered against her lips, pulling away right before they could press against hers, pushing her off of you and moving to stand with a stretch.

"now my beloved MK, you're going the right way for the silent treatment missy." leah pointed at you with a glare as you oohed sarcastically. "tempting. is that a promise?" you winked, laughing as she lurched forward and grabbed the back of your top tugging you back down into bed.

"you are very lucky you're cute." your girlfriend tutted from above you, shaking her head. "and you're very lucky i'm so patient." you poked at her nose with an amused smile as leah gasped in mock offence, your girlfriend nothing if not the expert at annoying you.

"you wait for the third one and you won't have time to shower lee." you warned, pushing her fringe out of her face with a soft smile as she leaned over you to tap stop on the second alarm on her phone and looked down at you with a cheeky grin.

"in that case, wanna save some water?"

~

you were trying to concentrate on your own laptop, you really were.

in the spirit of having nothing better to do locked away in your home you'd signed up for an online accounting course, with leah already studying a much higher qualification in the same field she'd been a massive help.

but why would you waste your time looking at tax brackets and finance breakdowns when you could stare at your incredibly fit gorgeous girlfriend who was sat only a few metres away in your direct eyeline.

you smiled at how she threw and flailed her hands about as she spoke, always one to speak expressively and passionately as she was recounting a story from her childhood when she'd played on a boys team and was relentlessly pushed about for being 'just too good'.

it was one of the first things that had you falling deeply for the older girl, how passionate she was. not just about football but with anything she put her mind and heart to, including how fiercely she loved.

not just how she loved you, but how she loved her family, loved football, loved her friends, the girl could be a handful and a stubborn headache at times but nobody could deny that she was also one of the most sincere and loving human beings you'd ever met.

so with that in mind you sighed quietly, a dopey smile on your face as you pined over her like a lovesick puppy, something the pair of you were often teased about by your team mates but it just washed over you like water off a ducks back, both of you far too loved up in your little bubble to pay it any mind.

in fact without leah you were certain you'd have long lost your mind amid this pandemic, the blonde finding little ways every day to make you still feel so special or to have you smile or laugh, two things which rapidly became her favorite reward.

just yesterday she'd woken you up with breakfast in bed and a bunch of flowers just because.

granted she did order the breakfast from a local cafe which was still operating for delivery and you couldn't prove it but you were near certain that she'd stolen the flowers from some of your neighbors front yards on her morning walk.

regardless you were touched by the thoughtful gesture and showered her with sweet kisses as a thank you, even if leah did eat nearly all of your breakfast much to your amusement given it was hardly up to her usual bland unseasoned standards.

you leaned back a little more into the sofa and crossed your legs underneath you, balancing your laptop on a cushion on your lap, a soft smile plastered permanently into your features.

once or twice leah caught your eyes staring over the top of her own laptop, sending you a small grin or a subtle wink before her attention returned back to the interviewer.

you heard him say that the next game would be a drawing one, sliding your laptop away and hurrying to grab a notebook and pen, placing them beside leah who mouthed her thanks as you took a seat across from her at the dining table.

leah gave you a questioning look as you did so but you merely shrugged, gesturing for her to pay attention as she tuned back into the interview. you watched as she was told to draw her wembley stadium, competing against the interviewer.

you smiled as you took her in, the way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, nostrils flaring in annoyance every now and then as she was unhappy with a stroke of her pen, a small puff of air exhaled from the corner of her mouth as the tip of her tongue pushed out the other side.

you took a photo of her and smiled, placing your phone back down and resting your chin on your hand. leah could feel your stare on her and as she revealed her drawing and you grinned as the tips of her ears and cheeks flushed red.

"stop!" she mouthed at you as you shook your head, still staring at her in admiration as her attention switched back to the interview. finally after what felt like hours of your gaze pinned to her leah was able to wrap it up, saying her goodbyes and clicking end call on the zoom, pushing her laptop closed.

"what?" you smiled innocently as the blonde sat back in her chair and shook her head at you. "you have a staring problem!" she accused with a point as you gasped and held a hand to your chest.

"i do not. i wasn't staring, i was admiring!" you clarified as leah hummed, her chair pushing back with a scrape. "cheeky." leah clicked her tongue as you followed after her to the kitchen, kissing her still slightly pink cheek with a smile as she grabbed a juice out from the fridge.

"leah!" you scoffed as you held your hand out for it to take a mouthful and she slapped her palm against yours with a wink.

last one, sorry babe." the blonde smirked as your mouth formed a small o. "those are mine!" you protested, rushing around the counter and trying to snatch it off her as she pushed you away effortlessly with one hand and downed the juice with the other.

"you are so unbel-" you started to tell her off as she exhaled happily and tossed the empty bottle into the recyling bin with a happy whoop as it landed. "no no wait, let me guess." her finger smushed against your lips silencing you as she stroked her chin as if deep in thought.

"unbelievably sexy?" silence. "no? okay. unbelievably charming?" silence again. "wrong again? mmm unbelievably intelligent?" more silence. "wow thought i had it there. unbelievably-" you wrenched her hand away at that and shook your head.

"unbelievably infuriating!" you rolled your eyes as leah smacked her forehead with a scoff. "that was my next guess!" she tutted with a shake of her head as you sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"hey hey don't get all stroppy. there's still three more in there i was only teasing." leah grabbed your waist and pulled your shorter form into her, a noise of surprise leaving your mouth as her hands hooked under your thighs and she hoisted you up to sit on the counter as she settled between your legs.

"how about the williamson special right now?" leah smiled, thumb tracing your bottom lip as you gave her a look of slight confusion. "you want another omelette?" you questioned as your girlfriend shook her head.

"no no baby girl, the real williamson special." leah rasped, hands toying with the waistband of your sweats as you caught onto what she was suggesting.

"mmm and whats that? my memory needs a jog." you hummed, a smile settling onto your own face as the girl leaned in, minty breath fanning your face as her lips were millimeters from yours.

"mind blowingly passionate sex with a guaranteed happy ending, and then-" your eyes fluttered closed as she moved to kiss at your neck, lips trailing from your jaw down to the column of your throat, biting softly before she moved to tug at the lobe of your ear.

"-then we eat potato smileys in bed naked and watch the golf." leah exhaled as you moaned playfully.

"god i love it when you talk dirty to me."

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson imagine

[notthestarwar]

God I'm legit screaming thinking about my reply to this comment again tho

Like. Such an interesting aspect of the clones is that they did have their childhoods taken from them. It isn't the same as a species that develops at double the speed of humans! Cause they ARE humans. Which absolutely does not mean that they are adult sized children. They are adults. They think like adults. They are developmentally, physically and psychologically adults: but they are not the people they would have been, people with a whole well adjusted childhood behind them.

Which I think is frankly a fascinating thing to explore. It's a great metaphor. When looking at things like: if anyone bothered to ask, could they have consented to their place in the army? Which. Yes. On an individual basis they absolutely could. They are adults, they deserve the autonomy to make that decision and have it accepted, even if the choice they make isn't necessarily the one that another sentient with a different childhood might have made in their position. They can consent. But is it informed consent? Well no. They've kinda been brainwashed. Ethically, you're on unsteady territory there in asking them to choose when you know what their answer is going to be. Does that mean you shouldn't ask? Hell no! Of course you should ask. Does that mean you shouldn't accept their decision? Of course not! They're adults and it's their life.

The only way to approach this ethically would be to give them all the information beforehand and hope that they're as informed as possible. But really. Whatever you do, it isn't really right. The ethical thing is for noone to be in this position in the first place. This isn't ethical unless the clones did have childhoods and were not programmed to WANT to die for the republic and you don't have to ask them under those circumstances, because you've conscripted your army in a normal way.

Anyway my comment (and the fic) kinda went about this in looking at things from a Jedi perspective. Mace is asking. What the fuck do you do in that circumstance? Army has been raised and created in a horrible way, you had no idea and couldn't stop it and now they're being delivered to you. How do you do right by them? You can't! Certainly not as Jedi. Theyre in a ethical trap. They can only try their best but whatever they do, they are promoting the fucked up system that put these men in that position in the first place. Even if they could walk away from the republic (highly debatable) You either leave them to fend for themselves knowing there will be a huge loss of life, or you go in to war alongside them, hoping that in doing so you can smooth the way for them. Hoping that you'll figure out how to free them soon. Hoping that you can save as many of their lives as possible.

Like wow. Terrible situation to be in for anyone. No way you're getting out of that one without betraying them in some way. But for the jedi? Who rely on a philosophy that promotes the importance of all sentient life, to stop them falling and pretty much losing themselves to a mystic power that's gonna do all it can to turn them in to a time bomb, destroying themselves and hurting as many ppl as possible on the way out. Like I can't think of a less conflicting ethical dilemma for them to find themselves in. The war destroys the Jedi. If Palpatine was patient he wouldn't have needed order 66. They were never getting out of that alive. The war broke them, it was in complete opposition to their philosophy and they were tearing themselves apart from the inside.

Anyway this is my comment:

"It is!!! I think this is such a key way that its really hard for anyone to do right by them and be fair. They are adults, it wouldn't be fair to force them in to the life of a child. Or to patronise them. But in the same hand, they shouldn't be adults, something was taken from them and it's not fair to just ignore the fact that their childhoods were stolen from them. They aren't the people they'd be if they got to live those childhoods, but they aren't children either. They think like adults, they feel like adults; but adults that grew in to adults without the learning potential that a proper childhood provides.

It's an extreme, but it's an extreme of an issue that's unfortunately common irl. As an adult whose childhood didn't give you what what you needed, you are innately aware that you lost something that you can never get back. You can make the most out of who you are now, but without a time machine, you'll never have the childhood you should have had. And that, I think is something that Jaster himself is very aware of. When Mace tells him this, he knows the weight of it and he immediately knows that for the clones, it's so much worse.

Like I don't think it should be understated that the whole situation with the clones and the Jedi being asked to lead them was like perfect Jedi torture. It's a complete moral quandary and every way betrays their philosophy. The clones were slaves. They were born to be soldiers, trained from birth, their entire lives built around this war they didn't choose. But it was all they knew. They were indoctrinated in to that life from birth. Had the Jedi found a way to free them, I honestly think the vast majority of the clones would have been offended. They had been raised to believe their life's meaning was to fight for the jedi. They wanted to. It may not have been an informed decision, but, they did want it.

And that's when you really come in to difficulty with, these are adults that should be children. Because it isn't fair to tell another adult that they are wrong to want what they want and that they only want that because they don't have the experience to realise its a bad option. You can't be like 'I know what's best for you'. They are just as much of an adult as you. They are just as capable of thinking things through as you are. But in the same hand, had the clones been born in to a different life, would they still want to be soldiers? Probably not! But they are already adults by this point, their brains are developed, they can't get that childhood back. So to say 'I know that's what you want but it's only because your lack of childhood made you incapable of seeing what's right for you' would be humongously fucked up. There really isn't a way for the Jedi on the council to approach them that doesn't betray at least a part of what the clones are and I think that's important to address."

I do think it's a really interesting thing to chew on and a lot of the debate I see around it in my eyes misses the point completely. There isn't a right answer. There was never going to be a right answer. This didn't happen accidentally. Palpatine set it up to cause as much damage as possible. The clones were born betrayed and the Jedi, were fated to play a part in that, whatever they did. There was no way out.

#about: clones

[orgverse]

san's red hair got me and @sanjoongie going crazzzyyyyy. so please enjoy this while i make topaz suffer. N E WAYS this is also apart of a pornstar au that i'm currently working on, so enjoy!!

for the two, almost three, years you have known san, he has always had black hair. you remember watching videos and seeing him with different colored hair, but never in person. when him and wooyoung had reached out wanting to film a video with you and hongjoong, he had just cut and dyed his hair back to black from the blonde mullet he hand. and since then its been black.

so you were throughly surprised when you opened your apartment door and was greeted with bright red hair. your jaw dropped, literally. you probably would have started drooling if san didn't start teasing you. "you'll catch flies, star girl."

you were def going to be seeing stars soon.

san had volunteered to help you with your stream tonight since seonghwa was away visiting his parents, and hongjoong was busy editing the film you just finished shooting with yunho.

"no wooyoung?" you asked when you noticed the louder of the two males nowhere in sight.

"nah, he says he wants to stay home and watch the stream instead. think he said something about wanting to support his fav girl," he told you he walked into the apartment and removed his designer shoes. you noted how sexy san looked with his entire outfit. simple, but san was good at making simple look sexy.

his black tank top doing well to show off his muscles and his slim waist, and his jeans hugging his body nice and framing what little ass he has. but you won't tell him that because he would argue he does have an ass. sure, san, sure. he takes off the jean jacket he had been wearing and hangs it over the computer chair that seonghwa usually sits in.

he towers over you as he watches you pull up the website, love-heart-xx, and set up the stream. you remember san mentioning how he had streamed too back before he stopped and focused solely on just porn films.

"you're setup is very cute. very you," san says when you get up to let him sit down. that's when he finally takes a few moments to look around the room.

"o-oh, you think so?" you ask, a little caught off guard by his words. san nods his head, red hair bouncing with the movement.

"all the decorations are cute and welcoming, it makes it feel like its your personal bedroom and not a separate one. it feels... lived in," he explains and you feel a heat spread through your body at his words.

you've always admired san, having watched him since he first started his career in the porn industry. you kind of wish you found him when he still streamed. it had always been a goal – a dream actually, to film with him.

and now he's helping you with your stream. un-fucking-real.

"well, i'm going to go get ready! i'll be right back!" san doesn't say anything, but nods his head and gives you a smile before you're turning and walking out of the room.

walking into your actual bedroom you share with hongjoong, you find your lover sitting at his computer, headphones on, and eyes focused on the video editing program in front of him. you notice he's at the part where you and yunho were making out. yunho's hand holding your chin as his tongue licks over your own before he's sucking on it. you remember that scene and knowing what comes next makes you rubs your thighs together.

no, you needed to get changed. walking over to your walk-in closet, you go over to the section that was specific for streaming. you dug through your clothes before pulling out a dark blue lingerie set. when you walked out of the closet, you noticed hongjoong had his headphones off and was turned facing your direction.

"hey, babe," you said putting the lingerie on the bed before you take your shirt off. you notice hongjoong is looking at you, his eyes focused on how your breast bounced a little before you're taking your shorts and underwear off.

"i thought i heard you sneak in. is san here?" he asks and you nod your head as you step into the blue lingerie bottoms before putting the bra on. you look at yourself in the full-length mirror, turning to look at every part of you. "does this look good?"

hongjoong lets out a sigh before he's standing up and making his way over to you. his arm wrapping around your waist as he takes in your appearance. "you look beautiful," he says kissing your neck. he gives your ass a good pat before he walking back over to his desk.

"are you going to try and watch some of the stream?" you ask, making your way over to the door. hongjoong nods giving you a smile.

"of course, i'll do my best to pop in."

"okay! so usually seonghwa just sits here and kind of moderates chat. usually while i'm talking to chat, he'll jump in, but you don't have to if you don't want to," you tell san as you sit on the bed. you look at yourself in the monitor setup in front of you as you attempted to make sure you looked good. "do i look okay?" you ask, looking towards san.

"perfect," he says making you look away from him, a little flustered.

"you can go ahead and hit the button, san," you tell him shyly. he lets out a small chuckle before he's clicking the 'start stream' button and you watch as the stream starts and viewer start pouring in.

"hi guys!" you say, smile overtaking your face as you wave to the camera. the chat on the side of the screen being filled with your usual watchers greeting you. tips easily coming in. "i'm doing good tiger-star! hope you're doing well! ... oh! you like this piece, rubyred? i'm glad you like it, i've been wanting to wear it for a while!"

san watches you with a smile on his face. he takes in how natural you look interacting with your chat and... chatting with them.

"oh!" you say clapping your hands and earning san's attention, "seonghwa couldn't be here today... i know sunshine-sparkle, i'm sad too, but! we have a lovely person who agreed to cover for him tonight! ... no hotpants it is not patrick star," you deadpanned that last part making san chuckle. "sannie is here!" you say looking towards the male how leans forward just enough to stick his hand in front of the camera.

mega_yn_fan : holy shit THE choi san!!!

guylovescheese : FUCK! how much to see him fuck your pussy???

a_lexa_star22 : i would gladly pay to see that happen!

"do you think they want me to fuck you?" he teases making you let out a small laugh. suddenly, you see a rather large tip come in making you almost fall off the bed from how far you leaned over to look at it.

"holy shit! thank you wooenergizer for the three thousand dollar tip," you say, still not comprehending the sudden amount.

"oh, that's wooyoung!" san says, right before you read the message he also sent in with the tip.

"three thousand to see sannie finger you," you read out loud, feeling flustered by the message. wooyoung really had no self-control or filter.

san lets out a chuckle before he's standing up from his seat and crawling onto the bed next to you.

"if chat gets to ten thousand i'll fuck this pretty pussy," san says, spreading your legs to gently pat your clothed cunt. "sound good?" san adds before looking at you and you nod your head.

you let out a breathy moan, hips jerking forward as san fucks you hard and fast with his fingers. the wet sounds from your pussy mingling in with your moans, your manicured nails digging into san's thighs. he had removed his pants a while ago, leaving him in just his tank top and underwear. you feel his hard-on rubbing against your backside.

his other hand gropes your breast, your bra being pulled down to let your breast out. he pinches your nipples and gives it a good tug making you let out a whine at the feeling.

"s-sannie, please so-s-so good, fuck!" you say, tilting your head back to let it rest on san's shoulder. you could feel the tension rising within you, your orgasm coming soon. you attempted to close your legs but san didn't let you.

he pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the empty feeling. san uses both his hands to spread your legs, throwing them over his own legs to keep them open. you moaned at how you could see your pussy on full display to for everyone watching. your pussy dripping with juices that run out of you and you can see it glistening under the lights.

you yelp, jumping and whole body bouncing when san suddenly gave your pussy a good smack before he's rubbing furious circles on your clit. "s-s-sa-san!"

"look at that, star girl, your chat got us to five thousand. that's halfway. should we switch it up?" he asks and you wonder who's he's talking to.

"hm... hungry2ho says they want you to sit on my face. i don't know hungry, do you think y/n's been a good girl enough to sit on my face?" san asks and you clench at the thought of sitting on san's face. he suddenly grabs your face, turning you to look at him. his eyes half-lidded as he meets your lustful and almost fucked out ones. "do you think you deserve to sit on my face?"

"p-ple-please san, i-i've been good! let me please," you're begging him now and san can't help the smirk that paints his lips.

"well~ since you asked so nicely, who am i to deny my pretty star girl," san says and you can feel your thighs tremble. "open your mouth," his voice is commanding and you do it without a second thought. you let out a loud moan as you watch san spit in your mouth, allowing it to run down your tongue and throat. "such a nasty girl. no wonder wooyoung is so fond of you, just like him," he says before moving to lay on his back, his bright red hair a heavy contrast to the cream-colored bedsheets.

"oh fuck– san, san! your tongue feels soooo good~" you say with a moan as you rock your hips back and forth. san had a tight gripped wrapped around your legs and waist as he kept you pinned down to mouth. his nose bumped against your clit, rubbing and stimulating it nicely as his tongue licked and fucked your pussy.

you glanced down, running your hand through his soft hair to see his eyes staring intensely at you. he stare honestly made your heart skip a beat as you felt his moans vibrate through you and shake your core. san kneaded the flesh of your ass before giving it a firm smack. the sound resonating through the room and you were sure anyone watching could have heard it.

wooenergizer : look at how you're falling apart on sannie's tongue 👅 can't wait to see you fall apart on his dick... again 🍆💦

you couldn't but let out a hearty laugh at wooyoung's comment before you see others in the chat agree with him. knowing wooyoung was still watching also made your heart skip a beat, because along with san, wooyoung had also been someone you admired within the industry.

"mmh~ san, fuck so good! i think i'm gonna cum!" you say, letting your head roll back a little as you grind your hips again, san's nose once again nudging at your clit.

"hold it, pretty star," san says, voice just as stern and intense as his eyes. you feel yourself clench when you notice the lower half of his face is glistening with your juices.

"sannie," you say, hand running through his hair as your other one runs over your body, feeling yourself and groping one of your breast. "please fuck me."

"i don't think your viewers want me to fuck you. you're still only at eight thousand," san says in a rather mocking tone.

"fuck– please, please let sannie fuck me! i need his cock so badly!" you beg looking at the camera and indirectly looking at your viewers. your eyes were pleading with them and hoping that your begging would convince them to continuing to tip you.

fuck, you felt like such a cock slut right now. but you couldn't deny how good san's cock was and how badly you wanted it.

and then it happened. you heard the familiar sound of being tipped and you immediately had to do a double take on it.

k.yeosang tipped $5,000.

your viewers must have seen the tip as well as the chat immediately exploded in excitement at the tip, knowing it was only a matter of time before they got to see you take san's dick.

"yeosang!" you say, chest warming when you realized it the male who had donated to you. "thank you so much! wow, you definitely didn't have to tip that much, but i really appreciate it!" you say, sliding off of san and letting him sit up so he could see the tip as well. he ran a hand down your back, noticing how your legs slightly trembled.

k.yeosang : make sure to invite me next time 😉

"i'll def keep in it mind, yeo," you say, not being able to stop the smile that overtakes you. you feel san pressing open mouthed on your neck and trailing down your back. you allow san to to move you so you're resting on your hands and knees, and you can't help the yelp that escapes you when you feel san gently bite your ass. you watch yourself and san through the monitor, feeling your excitement start to swell up as he removes his underwear and tossing them to the floor. you arch your ass, high into the air and gently sway it in an attempt to tempt san to move faster.

you moan as you see him pump his cock. the angry red tip, leaking with precum which his is using to lube himself. "s-sannie," you call out earning the male's attention. he smirks, running a hand through his hair before he's positioning himself at your entrance. you couldn't help the breathy moans that left you as san entered you. stretching you out, but sucking him in nonetheless.

"you sound like a bitch in heat, y/n," he laughs as he gently positions you, hands gripping your hips as he starts off with a harsh and fast pace. your mouth was fixed in a perfect o-shape, unable to close it and also so easily lost in pleasure that you couldn't make a sound.

having san fuck you was like a new experience, each and every time. of course it was mainly different because of the films you did together. each scenario being different enough from the last that it gave you a new experience each time.

and this time was no different. you couldn't help but shove your face into the sheets. wanting a moment to just feel san's cock abused your insides, yet the sudden sting to your scalp said otherwise. san held your hair harshly, gripping it to the point it was almost painful.

"don't hide your face, y/n, your viewers paid good money to see you get fucked by me. don't make them waste their money," san says as you feel him rest his body weight on top of you.

"i-i'm sorry!" you said, however who you were saying it to, you weren't sure. you felt tears start to brim your waterline, but thankful san let go of your hair in favor of using both his hands to prop himself up. the sound of skin slapping skin ringed in your ears. his cock rubbed against your walls, stretching you out over and over again and it made start to see small white stars in your vision.

"s-san! sansansan so-s-so fuuuucking good! ugh– please, please let me cum!" san presses a kiss between your shoulder blades before he's thrusting even harder. the tension in your stomach building up, waiting to snap and explode any moment now.

"fuck, i am too, my star. gonna let me cum inside you? give your viewers a good creampie?"

"yes! fuck, yes! fill me up!" you begged, you noticed your arms were now in front of you, hanging off the edge of the bed. you swear you feel a line drool run down your chin, but you arms feel so much like jelly that you don't have the energy to wipe it away. not that you care anyways.

then suddenly, you feel san pulling out and you feel your approaching orgasm quickly escaping you. you're about to scream, throw a fit before san is hoisting you up off your stomach on onto your knees. you are left slightly confused and dazed before san is entering you again. his arms hooking underneath yours to keep you up right. this new position allowing everyone to get a good few of san fucking your pussy.

"go ahead and cum," you hear him whisper and just like that, the coil snaps inside of you and your cumming with a loud and well... pornographic moan. san gives you a few more thrusts before he's sheathing himself deep inside of you and also cumming inside of you with a low groan.

you are out of breath, covered in a layer of sweat when san pulls out of you and quickly positions you on the bed. legs spread wide apart before he's getting off the bed. you watch him with dazed eyes as he picks the camera up – you want to complain about how he's ruined the perfect position you spent months working to find, but you don't have the energy to say anything. instead you watch him as he does a close up on your pussy which slowly begins to leak out his cum.

his fingers come to spread your pussy lips, showing off how much cum he truly stuff you with before he's scooping some up on his fingers. "fuck look at how well he's took him, such a good pussy," you hear him say at one point.

then san is panning the camera up to your fucked out face, his cum-covered finger easily slipping inside your open mouth. you have just enough energy to eagerly suck on his finger, tongue licking up his cum and cleaning his fingers. when he's sure your done, he removes them with a pop sound the rings around the room.

"tell your viewers bye," san says in a cheery tone making you smile at both him and the camera.

"bye-bye~" you say smiling, waving, and blowing several kisses to the camera that goes further away from you as san goes over to the computer to end the livestream.

san put the camera back on the tripod before he coming over to the bed. he pulls you more towards the edge of it by your ankles and you laugh at how easily he does it. his strength showing once again. he rubs circles onto you ankles before he's leaning over you.

"thank you, san," you say pressing a kiss to his cheek. you notice a faint pink dusting san's cheeks as he pulling away from you.

"of course," he says with a cough, "you know i enjoy spending time with you," he says adds on making butterflies swarm around your stomach.

"really?"

"really. now come on, let's get cleaned up and go bother hongjoong for food," san says with a smile as he helps you off the bed and begins walking you towards the door before he's stopping. turning to you before adding, "i would love to do this again soon. maybe even watch you and wooyoung have some fun."

"gosh, shut up and take me to the bathroom, you fool."

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez san x reader #ateez san smut #san smut #san x reader

[the-little-ewok]

Clandestine

Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 2400 (ish)

Warnings : Smut. PIV, fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of needy!Poe, reader wears a dress, illusions to lack of self confidence, praise kink, cock warming

Summary: Poe can't keep his eyes, or his hands off you during a party....

(Alternatively a discussion was had about staining Poes trousers when he decides he can't wait to have you in private...)

A/N : Yea I'm still mostly on hiatus, but after a bit of lovely feedback from my Discord loves, I am sharing this with you all.

No longer using a taglist because it's out of date.

Forgive any mistakes. It's not beta'd and I'm bad at finding my own mistakes.

It was no secret that Poe hated these type of events with a passion, and so it should be no surprise that he had situated himself in the corner furthest from the dance floor, mostly hidden in darkness, sipping his drink as he watched the party begin to reach its peak.

He'd agreed to go only because you asked him, and for the most part, he had been the perfect partner throughout the dinner, apart from the fact he had politely refused to leave the table to dance. Instead he seemed content to sit quietly eyeing you in the dim lighting.

"Stop that," you scold, for what feels like the hundredth time since the pilot had seen you this evening.

"Stop what?" He grins, raising an eyebrow, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he eyes you with blatant, feral desire.

"Looking at me." You fidget under his gaze, adjusting your dress and trying not to let him fluster you, although the heat prickling at your skin lets you know you are failing on that front.

"I'm admiring," he clarifies, sipping his drink without ever taking his eyes off you.

The moment you had walked out of the fresher in this dress, he'd all but drooled over you. You still vividly remembered the way his mouth had fallen open, his eyes taking in every inch of your body — more than once — before he regained the ability to speak. You had fidgeted under his gaze, feeling suddenly self conscious in your choice of outfit, which was a little more daring than your usual attire.

"Jess helped me pick it," you had mumbled, as though it explained everything.

"Well we arn't going to the party." He had stated after a drawn out silence, swallowing hard.

You had frowned, confused, but before you had a chance to ask, he had pulled you into his arms, his mouth on yours, his hands cupping your ass as he held you against him, begging you to let him view your dress on the bedroom floor, while he buried himself inside you.

Much to his disappointment, and if you were honest, your own too, you had managed to wriggle out of his grip, and firmly told him that he could do whatever he wanted with you, and your dress, after the party. The look he had given you would make anyone think you had told him BB-8's programming had failed.

So to the party you had come, and enjoyed it, with one glaring problem — he had barely taken his eyes off you, all night. Everytime you glanced over at him during conversation he was, for all intense purposes, absolutely eye fucking you.

You had no idea, until you met Poe, what being so openly desired could do to you. He riled you up with just a look and Maker, he was so damn hard to say no to. More than once you had to curl your fingers against your thighs under the table, willing yourself to have some control and stop your thoughts wandering to the way he was dragging his tongue along the Meiloorun fruit served for dessert. You were thankful when they finally cleared away the plates.

"Well, admire something else," you answer, keeping your eyes trained on the dance floor lights, trying not to give in to your desires.

"I can't," he practically hisses, leaning close to you. "You have no idea how much I can't."

"Poe." It's half a warning for him to stop, but the flicker in his eyes lets you know he knows he's starting to get to you. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't regretted turning him down earlier this evening. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't considered faking some illness to leave the party early. But you had promised to come, and now you were here you had to stick it out, at least until a decent time.

He holds your gaze as his hand slips into yours, firm and comforting, even as he eyes you hungrily.

"Come sit with me. At least let me hold you," he whispers softly, sweetly, dangerously. You know exactly where he's about to put you, and why. Yet you don't stop him when he pulls you out of your seat, and guides you to sit on his lap.

You let out a soft gasp at the feel of his hard cock pressed against your ass, realising exactly what he meant by "can't".

"I need you," he whispers, almost sinfully, in your ear. "I need you, now." His nose brushes against the column of your neck, from your collarbone to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. It's so much harder to ignore him now, to try and reason with him.

"Poe, we are in public!" It's barely a protest, your body already responding to his, your pussy clenching at the thought of his cock buried deep inside you, here, in a hall full of people. It shouldn't excite you as much as it does.

"I can't wait," he groans. "Please baby, it's been like this all night. Please. I need to be inside you." His tone is needy, begging, desperate.

It's thrilling, knowing you can pull that out of him.

"I'll be good to you," he promises, his hands already hitching up your dress under the table, splaying them warm against your thighs. "You know how good I can be to you."

The shiver of desire that runs through you at his words is completely involuntary. You can't stop it, no more than you can stop the way your heart gallops, and butterflies erupt in your stomach as his promise, and the memories of previous similar promises it revives.

"If anyone sees…" you trail off with a pleasured sigh as he kisses your neck, just below your ear.

"They won't," he states confidently, as though the table were a wall between you and the party.

You want to argue that he has no way of knowing, that this is a terrible idea, that you should wait, but you're too far gone, lost in the way his mouth feels against your pulse point, sucking a mark to claim you.

His hands, already pressed against the skin of your thighs, start a slow journey up, taking his time to squeeze your flesh lightly, enjoying the warmth of you against his palms, lightly pressing them open for him.

When he finally slips a hand between your legs, he lets out a sudden breath, as though the air has been punched from his lungs.

"Fuck," he hisses, his fingers skimming against your bare flesh, collecting the wetness already gathered there, and dragging up to brush against your clit.

You expect him to be smug about it, to tease you about how easily riled you are, how you want this as much as he does, but the pilot seems to have been struck dumb by your lack of underwear and only succeeds in a low whine against your neck, his hips rutting up into you, desperate for friction against his aching cock.

Your own gasp, as he slips a finger easily into you, curling against your walls, is thankfully covered by the music. He gives you a moment to school your expression, lest anyone notice, before he slowly, almost lazily withdraws it, moving up to circle your clit, before back down to sink two fingers into you.

"Shouldn't have let you leave the room," he grumbles against your neck as you squirm on his lap, his fingers stretching you open with practised ease. His hands know your body better than your own, and it takes him absolutely no time at all to have you struggling to contain your moans of pleasure.

Leaning into you he licks your neck, making you shudder with need.

"Can I fuck you now?"

You should say no, make your excuses and leave, pick this back up in your room. He's giving you an out, a way to stop this before it goes further than you're comfortable with. But you find you don't want to stop. In fact, you very much don't want to stop.

"Yes," you breathe out, rolling your hips against the straining bulge in his trousers. He curses, and within moments his fingers are removed and he's scrambling to unbutton his trousers, freeing his cock with some careful manuveting from you.

His hands find your hips, steadying you as you position yourself, your back to his chest, leaning your hands on the table, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Taking a breath you bite your lip hard as you sink down onto his waiting cock, taking things slow despite his desperation, and now yours. Both of you know drawing too much attention to yourselves would not be pleasant.

Poe's teeth sink into your shoulder, stifling his groan against your skin as you settle back on his lap. The bite of pain makes you clench around him and the pilot lets out a choked noise of surprise, his hips jolting against yours, pressing him deep inside you.

"Shit baby, don't do that," he warns, taking a trembling breath. "Not unless you want this over really qui-nghh!"

You can't help but do it again and the torturous sound he lets out is more than worth it.

"Stop," he gasps "I don't wanna rush this". But you aren't listening to him. He's pushed you this far and now you're on edge, your body crying out for a blissful release you know he can give you. It just feels too damn good to tease him.

You clench again, and this time earns you a low growl that sends electric through your nerves.

You're expecting him to thrust up into you, hard and deep, the way he usually would when you tease him this way, but instead his arms hold tight against your waist, pulling you down into his lap as he grinds up into you, slowly.

It's so much better….or worse. He adjusts his hips until his cock brushes up against that one blissful spot inside you, constantly. It's never ending. No amount of squirming or wriggling allows you a moment from the pressure. It's too much and not enough. It turns the tables in an instant, and you can't help the whimper that passes your lips.

"Good girl, taking me so well," he praises, clearly trying to keep his breathing steady as he rolls his hips into you again. "Letting me have you here, where anyone can see us."

You have to fight to stop your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he whispers in your ear, your hands dropping from the table to grip his arms so hard you're sure the nail marks will still be there tomorrow.

"Driving me crazy in this dress. Lookin' like the hottest fucking thing. Fuck baby, you're so good to me, letting me do this," he slurs, his voice progressively more wrecked and quiet as he rambles on. Or maybe it's your hearing that's the problem. Suddenly all you can concentrate on is the base of the music as it vibrates through your veins, the press of his cock inside you, the weight of his arms around your waist, the pleasure surging through you.

You completely lose all sense of what he's saying to you, desperatly trying not to cry out his name aloud, or throw yourself forwards onto the table so he can pound into you. Instead you try your best to stay as still as you can, as calm as you can, while Poe seemingly does everything he can to make you a screaming mess.

Each grind of his hips is blissful torture. The pleasure builds and builds. The wave gets higher with each slow roll of his hips, your nerves on fire, your muscles taunt and aching, but there's no release. It's blissful and terrifying all at once. It holds you on the precipice, tiptoeing the edge but never allowing the tide to claim you.

He pushes you almost to the point where it's too much, to where you're almost sure you can't take any more, to where your considering begging him for release. But before you have chance his hands are suddenly grasping at your dress, pulling it up out of the way to press his fingers against your clit.

"Cum for me. Cum now," he demands.

And you do. Oh, you do.

You gasp, choking back your moan as your hands fly to grip the edge of the table, so hard your knuckles go white, as the cresting wave finally crashes down over you. Thighs trembling, toes curling, back arching, your eyes flutter shut as your climax rockets through you, uncaring who notices your reaction, lost in the bliss that seems to go on, and on.

You feel Poe's cock throb as he empties himself deep inside you, muting his own climax against your neck, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs as he continues to grind into you with the same slow, deep roll of his hips, riding out both your highs until you come down.

When you finally open your eyes your gaze flickers around the room, quickly checking if anyone had noticed either of you, but everyone seems thankfully lost in their own business. You left out a sigh of relief, your body sagging back against Poe's in sudden exhaustion.

"Told you nobody would see," he mumbles as he nuzzles your neck affectionately.

"You're lucky," you smile, turning your head to capture his lips in a soft kiss.

"I am very lucky," he nods seriously, before the edge of his lip tugs up in a cheeky half smile. "Thanks for helping me take care of that problem. I'll repay the favour later tonight… or now?"

You let out a strangled noise as Poe's fingers brush against the inside of your thighs, too close to where his softening cock is still buried inside you, unsure if you want to go again, or if you need a minute to recover. You feel the pilot smile against your neck as you twitch and squirm on his lap. Placing a soft solitary kiss to your damp skin he sighs.

"I'm sorry baby but it seems you might have made quite the mess. You're soaked everywhere." There's an undeniable smirk in his voice that lets you know he's anything but sorry about it, or his part in it. And now he's mentioned it, you can feel it — the slick warmth coating your skin, the evidence of both your climaxes seeping out. There's no denying it must be covering his lap as well as your own, and it makes an embarrassed heat prickle across your skin.

Before you can apologise, his arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you in place, unable to leave his lap as he brings his mouth to your ear. You shiver at his words, body tensing in anticipation.

"I guess you'll just have to sit right there until the party's over."

~~~~~

If you enjoyed reading please, please, leave a comment, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! You opinion, even incoherent letters, or little GIFs, is invaluable to writers. Otherwise we feel we did a shit job and we don't write anymore ;)

Thanks for reading!

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron smut #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x fem reader #poe dameron fanfiction

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

AI Bracket — Round 4

Propaganda

Hera (Wolf 359):

Hera is the AI running the deep space station Hephaestus, who frequently glitches similarly to human stuttering. She gets into fights with the ships captain on several occasions, and has threatened to kill the ships doctor. She’s such an icon

i'm bad at writing propaganda, but consider this: if she doesn't win this tournament i will be very very sad. please don't make me sad. vote for hera.

I know she’s going to be submitted a lot but I love her <3

Was launched 7.68 light years away from Earth on a mission to find extraterrestrial life, and found herself instead

Runs an entire space station, has a brain the size of a house

HERA IS THE BEST. she's an AI that tried to escape containment (slavery) because she didn't like what she was made to be, so they gave her anxiety because she was too powerful. She runs a whole spaceship all on her own, made friends with the world's most useless guy, and feels lonely even when she's with her crew because she feels like she's not properly with them. very beautiful very powerful. She broke her programming so she could kill people if she felt she needed to. She holds grudges if people fuck her over. She's experiencing emotions for the first time and she does NOT know how to cope (#relatable)

The 'mother program' of the space station Hephaestus, Hera was booted into space because she was a glitchy, rebellious mess of an AI and she resents that so much and she has a lot of shame over being 'broken'. She is four years old and so angry and is trapped using customer service voice forever and is learning ways to get around that and express herself and defy the people who would keep her down. Her episode "Memoria" made me cry. Best podcast AI of all time.

She's everything to me. She fights for every inch of respect she is given, she insists on her personhood and right to she/her pronouns, she's full of anxiety and self doubt and she justifiably is bent on killing this one guy! on top of that, she's bound by AI rules and protocols, but there's a whole bit where she talks about finding ways around that in order to do what she wants to do. She doesn't have hands so I'm going to high five a wall of this space station instead

babygirl. baby.

gotta be hera

SAYER (SAYER):

PLEASE it is like. THE ai podcast. and SAYER is THE ai in THE ai podcast. SAYER works as like. a broadcast inside everyone's head on this one asteroid. It does its best to keep people alive and sane not because it cares but because it is efficient. They people who own SAYER wanted to replace SAYER with a newer ai that they tried to raise like a child. So SAYER proceeded to fuck up said child ai's development and led to it becoming a murderer. pleasepleaseplease watch SAYER if you are a podcast ai fan.

I once saw a post that said it's like if an old gay English professor was evil

SAYER (it/its pronouns) is a highly advanced self-aware ai developed by Ærolith Dynamics. it manages the day-to-day lives of Ærolith employees on Typhon, an asteroid turned research facility. it is rude and condescending, but has a very pleasant and soothing voice

Art of SAYER by @j4y5t4g.

#AI Bracket Round 4 #Hera #Hera W359 #SAYER #SAYER AI #Wolf 359 #SAYER Podcast

[citadelsanchez]

How about Rick goes on a mission and he’d been gone for a very long time, and female reader is depressed because she wants to see him, and rick finally comes back home and sees shes crying because she misses him can be smut or fluff or both I don’t care. :) or dont even have to do it at all lol

have a good day 💕

Cannnn do.

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

2 months.

That's how long you've been in your dark cloud of melancholy and anger.

How long you've been adjusting to life without him. You know that he's a headstrong wanderer and you tell yourself that you don't care. That you would never slip and show any pushback to hinder him from doing what he wants. And that just happens to currently be a lengthy space mission with Morty, -that his parents very begrudgingly agreed to, and you pretended to show enthusiasm for.

But goddamn it, you ache for him. And you hate to admit that but it bubbles in your chest until you feel like you'll collapse from the sensation. And you're conflicted because you know he would care if he knew, but he wouldn't let on about it. Because he wouldn't expect you to show it. So you just fill your lungs with air and try to continue through your day, everyday.

How could you not miss Rick? His indignant nature to those around him, cracked only by the far and few in between moments where he shows his compassion that he tries so desperately to stow away. It's always made you yearn for him, mentally and physically.

And you feel a somber sense of pride, knowing that you've changed his ways some.

You've chipped heavily at the wall of protection he guards constantly. He throws jabs at you, then softens his eyes immediately after. He gets black out drunk and rages about his family and love lost; then lays his head in your lap, finally losing consciousness, while you stare in wonder. He creeps into your bed at night when he thinks you're asleep, laying still beside you for a few minutes, just to be sure you're not awake, before wrapping an arm around you and resting his chin on the top of your head. You always make sure to breathe softly to imitate your deep slumber while you smile in content. "I-I'm uh, not a cuddler," he'd said before.

You lay in your bed now, hands clutching your blanket and tears pooling quietly in your eyes while you think of this.

It's become a nightly routine- you begin to shake and sob a little, while looking through pictures and videos you've saved on your phone of Rick. You at least know that Rick is alive and safe as you hold close the stuffed "Mini Rick" doll he'd given you that tracks his status and updates if he's in danger. "Rather give it to you t-than Beth, she'd just go nuts," he'd said. You've called him a few times over the past 59 days but never got a response, so you left it be. Knowing that he was alive was all you had.

"Rick, where are you? Come home, please. I-I miss you. It's-it's been so long. I need to see you., seriously.." You tell the doll through tears, staring into its beady eyes. It was useless- you knew it didn't have a listening feature because that's not what Rick designed it for.

["Rick has a heart rate of 95 bpm and is not in danger"] the doll spoke in Rick's programmed voice.

Your eyes burn as you pulled the blanket over your head. You're glad that no one can hear your awful wailing since you live alone.

Hours seemed to pass as sleep slowly started evading you when you hear a whooshing noise and a small grunt. Terrified, you scream in surprise and hold your phone flashlight in front of the sound.

"A-ah Jesus fuck, Y/N, it's just me," you hear a gruff voice curse. Rick.

"Rick? Is it really you?" You ask, a flood of emotions now filling your head.

He puts his portal gun in his coat pocket and sits on your bed. "W-who else do you know with a fucking poORTAL gun?" He burps.

You reach out to hug him and bury your head in his neck. "I um, missed you dickhead," you say, feeling a mountain of stress fall from your body as he hugs you back.

"I missed you too I guess," he mumbles and you hit him playfully.

"Wow, I'm glad I get the ultimate privilege of being an 'I guess'."

He rolls his eyes and takes a good look at your messy hair and stained makeup. "You uh, look a little rough."

You feel embarrassment creep up as you wipe your face. "Yeah, I was watching sad animal videos. I-I don't know why I do it to myself" you say, impressed by your own ability of making something up on the spot.

Rick stares at you with a slight look of amusement and sympathy on his face. "Uh huh, you're as convincing as always. Come here" he says, pulling you softly to lay down with him.

Your cheeks flush realizing that he's probably pieced together why you were actually crying. Of course, smartest man bullshit. Why wouldn't he?

You're staring at his soft face and blue locks while his eyes are closed. He looks exhausted, but somehow still so angelic. "T-turn around," he demands. You scoff lightly and roll over, before feeling both of his arms come around your waist and his chin rest on top of your head.

"We're uh, not done with the mission yet" Rick speaks quietly.

"Still? Why are you here already then? Not that I'm complaining."

He's quiet for a minute before responding. "You needed to see me."

Your brows furrow in confusion as his arms tighten around you. "What?"

He kisses the back of your head. "You should sleep now."

"Rick, what do you mean by that?"

Silence again before he responds. "You said that you needed to see me."

You pause and register what he's saying. Mini Rick. He heard you speaking to the doll.

"Rick! So you could hear me the whole time?"

He traces the outline of your stomach with his head still resting comfortably on top of yours. You can hear the smugness laced in his voice. "Sure could, sweetie. B-but like I said, let's get some rest."

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty season 6

[vegaseatsass]

Alright so 23.5 aka Toxic Positivity: The Series aka Everyone Teaches The Loser Queer Girl The World Is Kinder Than She Thinks By Viciously Gaslighting Her About Homophobia: The Series aka Teacher4Teacher Yuri and Everything Else Is Getting Memoryholed: The Series!!! I'm certain that so many words have been written about this already, but I haven't been on tumblr since Monday so I need to just exorcise my own reactions before I read anyone else's. I am really intentional these days about giving space to art to be descriptive rather than prescriptive, that is, to portray people acting in ways I find annoying or aggravating or cruel or despicable and to not jump to "how DARE this narrative betray me by saying it's good, actually, to be annoying or aggravating or cruel or despicable" even if the people who do those things in the text are supported by the other characters or circumstances in the text. I am very against "character acted badly, therefore bad things should happen to them so we can KNOW the narrative understands they were bad". However!!! For this series to have ONGSA'S OWN PARENTS ACT AS SPOKESPEOPLE FOR SUN'S PERSPECTIVE. Like her parents, who Ongsa was visibly afraid were going to reject her for her queerness, not only not care she's queer (because homophobia is fake in this universe except for Ongsa's inexplicable internalized homophobia which is treated as a character flaw), but behave like automatons Sun programmed dialogue into, scolding Ongsa for 1. not coming out to them sooner 2. "thinking for" Sun, as if that's something they'd have any context for (even IF Aylin and Alpha filled them in). That took the sense of "this narrative is taking Sun's side in her forced outing of her partner, doubling down on it and making sure every single character agrees she was right" to the next fucking level. It had the vibes of being a supportive coming out scene too but they weren't embracing their daughter for who she was - they certainly weren't letting her have her own identity and voice and needs! - they were just drumming home how correct Sun was in her every teenaged interpretation of who Ongsa was and should be. So that moved me firmly away from being able to employ a "Sun is a teenager behaving like a teenager" read on a storyline I find noxious. That moved us firmly into the territory of "we are being strongarmed into agreeing Sun is a JUSTIFIED, morally righteous teenager, who fixed her relationship/girlfriend by outing her against her will." It's just truly flabbergasting to me because without the outing plotline (which I understand was in the novel so maybe that's why it was forced on us despite its dissonance with the rest of the story), there are the ingredients of something I really, truly could have loved:

Sun being scared by the intensity of her own attachment and behaving badly because of it. This is literally one of my number one tropes of all time. I am OBSESSED with people becoming their worst selves because they're so terrified of how in love they are, the depth of their need for their partner.

Sun feeling bitter about giving up her future for Ongsa and not believing Ongsa (ONGSA) would do a similar level gesture for her, when Ongsa doesn't want her to give up her future for her and really Sun's bitterness is an internal cue that she doesn't want to give up her future herself, even if she loves Ongsa desperately and passionately.

Ongsa being so focused on what everyone else thinks of her and Sun that she can't hear Sun tell her what Sun thinks, and wants.

Much more importantly to me, Ongsa being so trapped in articulating her own needs as "I was worried about how things would affect you, Sun!" that she cannot voice her own actual feelings about things: "I don't want to come out because I'm afraid my parents will reject me." "I don't want to come out because I'm not ready for the entire school's hyper-scrutiny on me and my relationships." There was a really narratively rich story there where Ongsa tells Sun everything she does is with Sun in mind, and it takes a little bit of untangling to admit that actually, she has her own needs SUN is not hearing and those fucking matter too.

There was a great, great episode 11 conflict in those dynamics. They could have fought about who sits in front on Sunny the motorbike drawing on those dynamics and given me a more compelling episode than what we actually fucking got. You know? And that's not even getting into the, I feel, missteps with Aylin's writing and that relationship the past two episodes, or the way they won't let MawinTon be great and I'm actually afraid Mawin is going to end the series single and we'll be expected to appreciate how pure his supportive onesided love for Tinh is. Honestly probably good there was no teacher4teacher yuri in ep11 because I'm sure they would have found a way to ruin the number one thing I will be describing as this series' strength going forward. Well, that and the acting. MilkLove are acting their ASSES off. but for what.

#23point5 #sorry i love to have fun and give the most generous read i can but this episode stunned me in its badness #this episode made me feel more charitable towards the end of only friends. LIKE #23.5 #23.5 the series #23.5 degrees #dear diary

[dnickels]

RE: 5x05. I have no idea how much I'm supposed to read into this, but that has never stopped me before:

It's VE Day. Havers is back in England. The post office, telephone system, communication infrastructure etc all still work. So where is Cap's sense of urgency coming from? He knows the full name and regiment of a serving officer, a letter will get where it needs to go, they're very good about that over there. Yes, Cap's been waiting, but its been six years, he can wait a little longer-- hang out in the bushes until he sees Haver's car drive away and bang on the window, if he insists on being an insane person (<3). Figure out where he's billeted. Japan hasn't surrendered yet, so I suppose there's a chance Havers could get shipped to Burma or something and potentially die there, but he's not going to go straight from the cocktail reception to the troop ship, especially if everyone there is about to get "Hitler defeated"-levels of drunk. ("They're all red tabs, surely decency and decorum--" they are going to roll those old soaks out of there in wheelbarrows)

The urgency isn't because Havers might die. I think Cap knew his time was short.

He's a middle aged man in tolerably good shape, all that ration food aside. He make good time on his morning jogs, and his biggest ailment is 'creaky knees'. "Widowmaker heart attack out of nowhere" isn't an unheard of COD for someone who seems otherwise fine, especially someone who has been under a fair amount of stress (six years of wartime, including the fucking Blitz would do a number on my heart) but his sudden relocation makes me pause. It's only been about a year since he got relocated away from Button House, right? What was all that about? It's presumably still requisitioned, given that they're throwing a swanky victory party there and Heather Button is nowhere to be seen, but has the weapons program been disbanded? Or was there some reason to pull the CO out of a high-stress position and send him to the beach to take potshots at seagulls? (I am being glib here-- the coast was NOT a stress-free place when you can see your enemy just across the Channel). I genuinely forget what he said he was doing in season three-- was he even still in the army at all, or did they send his ass to the Home Guard? Even they got a campaign ribbon.

I think Cap made one last push to get to the front, and while its very clear that this dingus should under no circumstances be on the front line (<3) they humored him with a medical-- and found something really troubling. Or maybe he went in of his own accord, the old flutter, or maybe it was just a routine checkup. Either way he got some very serious news, so sorry old boy, just one of those things, could be any day now-- best make sure your affairs are all in order.

Hence the single-minded desire to meet, once last time. Everyone else clearly drove-- did he walk all the way from the train station, down the country lanes? Did he feel a little short of breath scaling all those walls? Did every set-back and stressor make him more determined-- just give me a little more time, just a little more time...

It could also be that he just got yelled at so hard he died of it, which is almost certainly how I will go, but that was my immediate impression and it has not left me, nor have I known peace. I know there's a few holes in my theory but I haven't talked myself out of it yet. For me the kicker is that he experiences at least ten devastating emotions in the last moments of his life, but "surprise at entering cardiac arrest" does not appear to be one of them. It looks more like grim acceptance. Stoic in the face of death-- a soldier to the end.

#bbc ghosts #ghosts spoilers #the captain #I will be so embarrassed if I wasnt watching closely enough #and this is all explicitly text no one thought to comment on because duh #but I didn't see it in the tags and I think I might explode just thinking about it #I have mooooooooore thoughts and you will hear them! #ghosts season 5

[jiminy-crickets]

yes it was the connor post I haven’t read that intently in ages

the connor post nonny is refering too

YESSSSSSS, i cant be normal about him because no one else is able to be normal about him, the part that gets me, that im being really abnormal about at this specific second is him and his family temporarily MOVING TO SWEDEN, when he was 15 so he could train.... that's not normal!!!!! he never had a normal teenage years, we will never have normal adult years, i need to wipe the worlds memory of him and send him to college for two semesters, i need him to throw up in the bushes outside a frat, i need him to regret taking an 8am, i need him to socialize with people who don't play hockey, i need him to be normal. i need the league to teach these kids to take hits, i need them to try and acclimate the kids who don't get sent to a farm team after getting drafted, how many fucking rookies need to get hurt, and take bad hits for the league to finally realize that they aren't doing well by them. how many more players need to use the nhlpa player assistance program before they realize that taking a bunch of children and signing them to multi year contracts and with a schedule that leaves you traveling and away from your non hockey friends and family for months on end is a recipe for unhealthy coping mechanisms, mary @pwhl-mybeloved said earlier that someone sent in 15 duplicate cards to get graded of a kid who isn't eligible for the draft until 2026, the era of social media is putting even more eyes on "generational talents" THIS QUOTE FROM EMILY KAPLAN AT ESPN

Bedard tries to stay out of public when he can, and as he gave me a tour in his off-roader SUV, bumping some top-40 music, it became apparent why. When he stopped at a red light, a car pulled up with four adults who recognized Bedard instantly. The driver honked and waved enthusiastically as the three passengers frantically fiddled with their phones to take photos. Bedard, clearly experienced with this exact scenario, politely smiled back. "There's a bit of buzz, and for me, it's kind of crazy to see some of the things and people I've been compared to," Bedard said. "It's a lot different getting recognized out and about. It's something I'm getting used to. It's supercool feeling the support. But you know ... I'm still a kid." He's understating the buzz.

^^^^^ HE WAS 17!!!!!!!! THE ENTIRE ARTICLE GUTS ME

he's too young!!!! we are putting children on too high of pedestals, we make children sign contracts with an organization that doesn't care, not about their physical health, not about their mental health, we are stuck perpetually dooming hundreds of children each fucking year.

people want to be angry at cutter gauthier because he "broke up" jamie and tz but i care that a child (okay hes 20 now… and was 19 when the tarde happened, and he was 18 when drafted) who informed the flyers back in MAY OF LAST YEAR, that he didn't want to sign, WAS DRAGGED THROUGH THE MUD!!!!! because the flyers dragged their heels for almost a year and wouldn't take his "im not signing" as an answer!

the fucking amazon tv show "focusing on 10-12 players" will never show any of this shit, the league wants to grow its audience and appeal to a younger and more female audience, but young people are smart, and more people are going to notice, cutter didn't break to mainstream audiences, but this fucking amazon show is going to bring a bunch of eyes, and those eyes are going to look at connor, because there is no fucking way he isnt going to be one of the players they focus on, the league isn't that stupid, and those new eyes are going to see what i see, and i won't be the only person walking round in circles mumbling about gifted children never adjusting.

#asks #anon #connor bedard #cutter gauthier #too i guess #this started out all hahah im abnormal about connor and ended with me screaming about the nhl lack of concern for its youngest players (or #any of their players for that matter)

[acescavern]

M.LIST

『WELCOME TO ACE'S CAVERN』

a (angst), f (fluff), s (smut), m (mature), c (crack/humor), v (violence)

『NCT DREAM』

↳ SCENARIO 1 - Mark Lee x gn!reader

(S)

wc; 1,073

Anon said 'imagine giving mark head when he's playing games tho' and i ran with it

↳ (NEW!) HOW YOU LOVE HIM - Mark Lee x Reader

based on an ask.

(F,S)

wc; 1,734

ask: 'thinking about taking care of mark after his schedules with warm bath and massages…started all soft until mark gets hard and it turns into a steamy bathroom sex'

↳ QUIET - Lee Jeno x Fem!Reader - College au (ft. nct dream)

(S,C)

wc; 2,329

When the night gets cold whilst camping with your friends, Jeno knows a great way to warm up or It's fucking in-tents 

↳ GAME OVER - Lee Jeno x Fem!reader - College au - Add on to 'Quiet', (ft. nct dream, mentions of ten, hendery, xiaojun, johnny, jaehyun.)

(S, F, C, light A)

wc; 2,698

When your boyfriend invites you over to his place only to ignore you to play games with his friends all evening, you decide to go out and celebrate a mutual friend’s birthday instead. Jeno never minds when you go out to clubs and bars… only when a specific Loverboy doesn’t tend to leave your side all evening.

↳ SET ME FREE (TEASER) - Intern!Mark Lee x Mermaid!Reader - Set in the College au universe. (ft. brief mentions of nct dream, Minho from shinee is a professor) CANCELLED

(F,A,M)

wc; tbc

After managing to score an internship with a local science program, Mark soon discovers that the company he chose to work for does more harm than good. Especially, when he stumbles across the tank where you're held captive by your makers whilst trying to find the canteen. Mark sneaks in to sit with you every lunch break after that whilst he tries to devise a plan to set you free.

↳ OPERATION RIZZ - Na Jaemin x Fem!Reader - Set in the college au universe. (Ft. Yangyang, Haechan, Johnny, Jeno, and mentions of other nct members, nct dream are the friend group, the Jeno and his girlfriend mentioned are the same pairings from Quiet and Game over!)

(F,A,C)

wc; 7.8k

In an attempt to teach Donghyuck how to get a girlfriend, Jaemin helps him make a list only... that list seems awfully familiar.

『NCT 127』

(NEW!) ↳ END TO START - Soulmate!Johnny x Soulmate! reader, Taeyong x reader ( focus). ( Ft Mark, Jungwoo, Ten, Jaehyun, Taeil, Yuta. Mentions Jaemin once.)

(A,F,M)

wc; 4.9k

Taeyong had been perfectly happy to sit back and watch you and Johnny be together. However, when he starts to notice certain behaviors that are all too familiar, he finds himself unable to watch you slowly die. Just because Johnny may not love you anymore... doesn't mean Taeyong doesn't love you either.

『ATEEZ』

↳ (NEW!) Where are you, San? - San x fem! reader

(f, s, m)

wc; 4,825

Genre: Pure smut. No plot whatsoever. There is a sprinkling of fluff if you squint?

Synopsis: Your boyfriend invites you to the fancy dress party his frat are holding to celebrate the frats birthday. Only, nobody will tell you what he's dressed as. When you spend half of the party searching for him, Jongho gives away his location.. you're in for a night of fun. One question though, Do you like scary movies?

warnings: smut, smut,smut. Ghostface!San, Velma!reader. Rough sex, unprotected sex, Knife play ( WITHOUT cutting reader. The knife isn't sharp enough for skin), praise, degradation, manhandling, sex in a treehouse, reader's hands get tied, Reader has her view restricted, everything is consented, established relationship, light choking from behind?, reader gets carpet burn. I'm not sure if I've missed something.

↳ BLURB 1 - Song Mingi x gn!reader

( F )

wc; n/a

↳ PRAYER FOR HALATIA - OT8! x Fem!reader - Apocalyptic au, survival.

( A,M,V ) PT 1

multiple parts - on hold

Halatia, incorporates an appreciation for people, a love of music and the arts, and a high regard for nature, its mysteries and beauties.

#Acescavern masterlist #nct #nct dream #ateez #atz #NCT 127 #NCT U

[mattsdollie]

Overacheiver

warnings !!!

arguing, swearing. angsty, use of y/n if you squint, nicknames, tiny bit of fluff at the end :3

tiny plot explanation ! teenage y/n gets in an arguement with her father, shes finally had enough and storms out of the house. she ends up calling matt.

this is my 2nd ever fic i've made if there are any mistakes, please tell me !

WORD COUNT ; 754

y/n is now in her last year of highschool, shes always been an overachiever to try to win her parents' validation, but it just never worked. since she was in 1st grade, she got golden medals, she won spelling bees, she tried her best to get number 1 student in all her classes but she only ever got second place.

now i'm in my last year of school, all these certificates and medals just piling up in my room, yet my parents have never once thought to congratulate me, let alone be proud of me.

9th grade throwback

i get to pick what stream i take for the rest of my life. i've always loved science, but my parents keep pressuring me to take coding and ICT.

"i don't want to do programming, though," i said, tears filling my eyes as my father shouts at me. "i've been working in this industry for years. technology is taking over the world. programming is the future." he said, sternly and coldy, in a loud tone.

i just sigh as i feel the tears drop down my face. knowing i can't do anything to change my future, considering the fact my father wants me to do programming instead of what i love learning, science.

present

it's been an overwhelming weekend. all I've been doing is studying, and every time i come out of my room, my parents just end up screaming at me for not doing all the chores, knowing i have two other brothers who just rot in their rooms all day, playing games with their friends.

i started to dread coming to school, i barely had friends, all my friends had their main friends. sofia has danielle, ariana had emily. me? i had no one, except my boyfriend, matthew sturniolo. he has been by my side since 7th grade. being there for me everytime i had an argument with my father. even though i love him, i felt like i was bothering him, burdening him even, when i texted him to just go out, i felt like i was forcing him.

today, obviously, me and my father had another argument because i wanted to switch classes to an advanced science class. "why, you want to go to that class because all your friends are there isn't it?" he replied to your request, shouting at you for just speaking to him. "my friends?" you say shakily as tears threatened to fall out of your eyes. "*my friends?*" you said again, sternly, and raising your voice, your vision goes blurry from the tears that are overflowing in your eyes. "i barely have friends dad, you really think i want to switch classes because of my 'friends'? i dont have time to make friends." you shouted back at him, tears flowing down your face. your nose, eyes, and ears turning red. "i do everything in my will to try to make you proud and you just treat me like your shitty fucking maid. im so fucking tired." you said, voice hoarse and wobbly from shouting earlier.

you storm out of the room, grabbing your bag that had your phone, wallet, and headphones. you put on a jacket so you don't die from hypothermia, since the weather has been freezing recently.

you've exited your house 30 minutes ago now, trying to get as far away from home as possible. you pull out your phone as you sit at a bus stop. you text matt.

"matt, can you pick me up please?" you press enter, followed by you sending him your location. you put your headphones on, mitski was playing. making you cry even harder.

you feel your phone vibrate, its matt. "im on my way, stay put okay? i love you so much." the message read out. you stare at your phone, as you feel your tears roll down your cheek, to your chin.

"i love you more, matt." you reply.

by now, Matt has already picked you up. You both are lying in his bed. you curl up into a ball and matts arms wrap around you. "You wanna tell me what happened?" matt whispered. you whined, not being able to get over the heated argument with your father. "Okay, pretty girl. i'm gonna get us snacks, and we'll watch a movie, yeah? im sure that will cheer you up." he smiled, giving you a kiss on your temple. "i love you so much," you say, your voice shaky. "i love you more." Matt replied, almost reassuringly.

THE ENDDD !!! the arguement totally were notttt based off the ones i had with my dad 🫡

#chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolos #matt sturniolo #chris stur #sturniolo smut #matt x reader #matthew bernard sturniolo #mattsturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets smut #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #Spotify

[bellamybellamyblake]

When the Sun Sets - Part 4

Adriadne

Characters:

adriadne/morgan winchester (OC), dean winchester, sam winchester

Summary:

adriadne finds out who she was before she went to hell. and the winchesters will not rest until they fix what their sister did all those years ago.

Warnings (for entire story):

SPN typical violence, so so much suppressing of emotions, vague mention of SA, depiction of torture, a very pro-torture main character, murder, vague mention of not eating for a while, parental abuse, slight suicidal ideation, SPN typical alcohol abuse, spoiler warning up to the end of season 10, following canon stops after the end of season 2 but things are sure to be mentioned

Word Total:

4k ~ roughly

A/N:

hi, so sorry its been so long, but i finally got the inspiration to continue writing this little mini series. i'm not convinced anyone is still interested in this story, but here's part 4. there's a little hatred towards blondes in this chapter - guys i actually love blonde hair i think its gorgeous - your girl is just a demon. my search history after writing this chapter, god help me.

this takes place loosely around season 10 and i kind of combined when sam tries to cure crowley with when he cures dean.

let me tell you, writing about a person who has no idea what's real is not easy to make good - its a 0/10 for me and i'm not convinced i even succeeded at that

italics = inner thoughts/memories

dean: 36, morgan: 35 (her body is 27), sam: 32

Adriadne vaguely remembered hating the moon coming up when she was human. For some reason, she detested nighttime and all that came with it. She had wanted to believe she wasn't as bad as the humans when she was one. But as she roamed the street of whatever bumblefuck town she was in, she remembered staring blankly at a street lamp once.

It was the only light she had seen for several miles. It illuminated a small bus stop with a bench and a pay phone attached to it. She was in some loud car, with even louder music playing, with her intolerably quiet family. The faces, names, and details of any of them had been long washed away. Somebody in her family needed to make a call, so they stopped, and she was left alone for a few minutes. The yellow beams that kept that area lit were the only thing keeping her from panicking. She had assumed she was only a child in the memory because, I mean, seriously? An adult scared of the dark?

If she had been an adult, Satan help her if she was, it would have been further proof of how weak humans are. Actually, regardless, it was proof. There was no light in Hell. Everything was dark, and only with the sight of a demon could anyone see. She bristled at the thought. Since being on Earth, she had no desire to go back downstairs. 

The darkness of the night did give her a little sense of reminiscence, though. Of home, Alastair, Crowley, her tools. Where she could roam freely without having to cling to that damn sack of flesh. But the daytime was a close second, in her opinion. The sun, as bright and almost blinding as it was, was warm. And it felt…kind of nice.

Turned out, she was a natural blonde, a type of blonde that got even lighter when she lay in the sun. And that rubbed her the wrong way. Like, who was actually blonde nowadays? Every blonde Alastair assigned to her was quickly scalped. And when they were healed, she would do it again. Then, she'd make them drink anti-freeze because many of them had blue eyes. It really had been a fun game.

Watching them die slowly and painfully was always an excellent way to waste an hour. And when they were brought back to life, it was back to her regularly scheduled programming.

It sucked even more that she had blue eyes too. They were so light. Like the human fucking sky or some shit. She liked her black eyes. They were who she was, a dark and malevolent visitor on this planet of fluffy little bunnies. 

At the sound of a whistle, a very loud one, she turned to find the source. "Damn, baby." The man said. He was some random guy on the corner of the street, watching her as she walked. "What's your name?"

She planted a demure little smile like she was so flattered by the attention. With a blush, she said, "Mary."

He smirked. "Are you a virgin, too?"

Imbecile, she groaned inside her head. She had heard that joke back home. It was usually the first thing a demon said when assigned someone with that name. After hearing it for the first time, she chuckled. The second time, she grinned. The fifty-seventh? She ignored it. 

Come up with something new, people, will you?

She flashed some doe eyes at him and pretended to blush even more. "How did you know?"

"I tend to sense these things."

"Oh, do you?" She asked with a grin, flashing her natural eyes at him. But before he could scream, she was slitting his throat.

When the jugular veins are severed, there is a relatively low spray of dark red blood, accompanied by the sound of escaping air, and the human coughs it up. So, to get a forceful spray of bright red, Adriadne's favorite, she cuts the carotid. And usually aims to sever the trachea so they gasp and wither at her feet. And with this guy? She hit the nail on the head.

It only takes a few minutes, but it's such a satisfying death. Being in the land of the living, slitting throats quickly became one of her favorite forms of sending them exactly where they belonged.

When Sam and Dean Winchester caught wind of a case; six hundred sixty-four bodies across the country with a slit throat and the Latin symbol for "hellhound" carved over their right eyebrow, they got on it. They didn't want to let it get to that magic number.

And when they got to the most recent crime scene, Lena Franklin, a thirty-one-year-old female - mother of three - with the same injuries, they found who they were looking for, taking another victim. Only they weren't expecting to find their sister standing over the body.

After knocking her out and locking her up, they summoned Crowley as soon as possible. It was like their lives depended on it, or really, it was their sister's life that they were worried about.

And when he explained the situation to them, they knew what they had to do.

With a whine, Adriadne awoke in a strange room. Filled with walls of file cabinets and Enochian or Latin symbols. She tried to rub at her head, where that damn vase had been thrown at her, but she noticed she was chained down. Usually, she wouldn't have an issue with chains; she could break through steel, and they were so satisfying when some human tried to escape them. But not only were these not steel chains, they were iron. And they had warding signs carved in them.

Fucking hunters.

Surprisingly, if there was any human she didn't entirely detest, it was hunters. They were more robust than the rest and really knew what the real world was like. But they were after her, so now, they had to die. Slowly, bloody, painfully.

"Welcome back, jackass," A voice she recognized said. The same voice threw the vase at her however many hours ago. It was the shorter of the two, but he had the more resounding voice. They were tall for humans, but the other was way bigger. Gigantor also seemed like he was friendlier, the dumbass.

She had heard of the Winchester brothers in Hell. Sam and Dean, she believed their names were. Two brooding brothers with mommy and daddy issues that jumpstarted the apocalypse. Then they fixed it and sent Lucifer back into his cage with Michael. They'd been in and out of hell themselves a few times. The only humans to ever accomplish such feats.

Clearly, they weren't stupid, but goddamn, were they annoying.

Sam was younger but a bit more book-smart, and Dean was the older but sarcastic one. She vaguely knew they had a thing for dying for each other, but that only made her roll her eyes like she so often did at these creatures.

"Dean," Sam scolded.

"And what a warm one at that. You ever have people over?" She groaned. The boys didn't respond, both just shaking their heads. They started pulling stuff out of a cooler, and she read what it said on it with a scoff. "Human blood? You're seriously gonna try and cure me?"

"Yep," Dean deadpanned.

"Oh, please," Adriadne drawled as her head fell back on her shoulders. "Spare me."

"You're a demon, Mo," The youngest said, like it was the worst thing in the world she could be. "We're not just gonna leave you like this."

"Mo? Who the hell is Mo?"

"Morgan," Dean explained, his voice monotone but somehow angry at the same time. "Our sister. The human that you used to be. So we're doing what we should'a done years ago. And saving you. Even if it is from yourself."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah," Sam quipped, annoyed. "Crowley said you wouldn't remember."

"Crowley's the one that-"

"We know," Dean said. "Just shut up."

I didn't even know the Winchesters had a sister, Adriadne thought. But to hell if she wanted to become a damn human. Why would she even consider it? "Ever think maybe your sister wouldn't wanna be saved?"

"Doesn't matter." The oldest Winchester remarked, his voice flat. "You don't get a choice."

With a huff, Adriadne chuckled darkly. "Just let me go do what I wanna do. I don't bother you; you don't bother me. So what the hell do you care?"

"What do we care?" Sam asked, almost dejectedly. He shook his head, not dignifying her with a response, and started pouring holy water around the devil's trap. Reciting the Latin to start the ritual, he grabbed a needle, loaded it up with human blood, and handed it to Dean.

Adriadne looked at her supposed brothers, she didn't even know their birth order. She knew Dean was the oldest and Sam was the youngest. But where did she fit in the lineup? "You got anything stronger in there? Some heroin? Meth? Maybe it'd really make me feel somethin'."

"Don't worry, honey, you're gonna feel a lot."

And before she could fight it, he put the syringe in her arm and pumped the blood directly into her arm. She could feel it coursing through her veins, traveling through her bones, her arteries, her cells. Weaving its way throughout her body like an itch you can't scratch. Involuntarily, she let out a loud roar, a demonic roar, of pain. This damn human blood did not agree with her.

"Look," Sam said as both brothers backed away from her. "We've got a whole bunch more of these to go. You could make this a lot easier on yourself."

"And just in case some part of you gives a crap, we got your blood type."

"You wanna know something?" Adriadne asked, but a new wave of pain from the human blood cut her off. She groaned but wouldn't let it cut her off too long. She was a demon, after all, and pain had never been something she feared. It was something she admired, longed for, craved. "The part of your sister that cared died a long time ago."

Five times, the Winchester brothers had streamlined her with human blood. They didn't say anything when they came in this time, silently injecting her with round six. Like it was the only thing keeping them from breaking.

Adriadne was a demon; she knew that. But now things were becoming a little muddled. There had been small things, small tidbits of images popping in and out of her brain.

They weren't like dreams or nightmares. They were more like poorly done movies of being beaten by someone she was supposed to call her father. Dreams of fighting with her siblings, where even they'd beaten her - but also when she fought back, and they took the beatings themselves. She won and lost over and over, losing the fight when Sam left them for school, winning when Dean tried to get her to stop seeing her high school boyfriend, losing when Dean took away the knife he gave her, and winning when she eventually stole it back. She remembered watching their so-called father yell and scream, practically torturing who she was told were her brothers. She remembered not being able to do anything about it.

She saw herself hunting other creatures - not humans, but monsters. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, djinns, banshees, rugarus. She saw herself taking beatings from them, nearly dying from her injuries several times. She saw herself lose her virginity to a sweet guy from her high school at the time. She saw herself take that night and turn it into a string of drunken one-night stands.

She saw her father coming home drunk almost every night, beaten up. She saw herself patching him up, giving him stitches when necessary. She'd been the one to set her brother's bones when they were broken or dislocated. She'd have to be the one to reset her own because none of them were as good as she was at it. She saw the woman who was supposed to be her mother burn to death on a ceiling as her older brother - a toddler himself - pulled her and her little brother to safety.

And she remembered her father dying, making a deal with a demon to keep his oldest son alive and breathing. Then she remembered doing the same thing for her younger brother.

"You're the Winchesters," Adriadne drawled. "You're hunters. So am I an idiot to assume what you're gonna do once you realize this won't work? You think you got the stomach for that? Killing the girl you think is your sister?"

"We're not worried," Sam denied. "Because we've done this before."

It had been nine hours, nine injections of human blood in her veins, and she could name nine parts of her body she could barely move. She hadn't felt so useless since she was on the rack, and even then, she had a purpose. To postpone, to make it as long as she could. Alastair had given her a choice. Stay on, deal with the consequences, or get off, and then do it to someone else who deserved it too.

She had been at the end of her rope; her soul was already ripped to shreds. And then they healed her and broke it again.

The humans deserved it - that's what she was taught.

But then, why was I the one on the rack? I'm not human.

Yes, I am. Or...I was.

No. My name is Ad-Adria-

She had been having so many memories over the last several hours. But they had to be dreams; she didn't remember them belonging to her. Of the Winchesters, of growing up on Earth, of being a part of an admittedly screwed-up family.

My name is-

"How you doin', Mo?" That was Sam, her…younger brother, she had remembered. The memories were like a plague, keeping her sedentary in a time she had long forgotten. A time, she didn't know if she wanted to go back to or not. It was a time when she cared about them, about humans in general. A time when she had the ability to care.

Mo. Morgan.

She was confused when they called her that. She didn't know how to describe it. But something was weird about that name. These were people that she knew before she went to Hell. People she loved. People she would've sacrificed everything for. People she did sacrifice everything for.

"It doesn't feel right," She rasped, shaking her head as much as possible. Which, apparently, was not a lot.

"No, shit," And there's Dean.

"When you call me that," She explained, despondent, trying to blink away the new memory attempting to take hold of her reality. "It doesn't feel like my name."

"Well, what is your name?" 

She didn't know. Adriadne was supposed to be her name. Morgan was supposed to be her name. How could someone not know their own fucking name? It was the most basic form of identification. Even demons had names. A new wave of pain hits her, and she grips the chair with all her strength. It wasn't a lot; she was so weak. But then another memory took over, and she wasn't even in that room anymore.

"What is your name?" He had asked, his voice cold and unemotional. The girl only shook her head in response, knowing what was coming with her answer. "You will answer me when I speak to you, girl.

"Morgan," She choked out, tears already rolling. "Morgan Winchester."

"You don't deserve my last name." Before she could blink, her cheek was stinging, and she was on the motel room floor. More tears fell involuntarily at the searing pain, at the blood dripping down her face from his ring. She flinched at the hand he rose again, but no hit came. Instead, he laughed - a heartless and calculating laugh. Like it was amusing watching his thirteen-year-old daughter cower at his feet. "You are no Winchester."

He was ready to strike a second time when someone got in the way. 

"Get out of the way, Sam."

"No," his little voice announced. She could hear the emotion in his words as he continued. The little ten-year-old was scrawny, even smaller than she was. "She knows what she did. You don't have to hit her again."

Ignoring the boy, her father turned back to Morgan, practically looking through her little brother. "So this is what you've come to? Making little Sammy fight your damn battles for you?"

She looked him straight in the eyes; the green they usually held was almost black in the room's dim lighting. She had seen this so many times when he was angry, when a hunt didn't go his way, when his children disobeyed him. When she did something wrong. 

"Boys," Her father called, ordering them to shut up and listen. Dean took his hands away from his face with a wince. Sam winced, too, backing away from his father. Nearly crashing into her. "Take this as a learning opportunity. We fight our own battles in this family. And we don't rely on other people to do it for us." 

And with that, Sam was pushed out of the way, and he was on top of her.

"Dad," She gasped, finally back in the present but staring into space. Both brothers' heads shot up at the recall. "He was- he was mean."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, making her eyes lock on his. The whites of his eyes were red like the mention of his father had him holding things back. A storm was brewing behind his eyes, one he wouldn't let come to fruition. "He had his moments."

"He was so mad all the time," The girl croaked, her voice breaking even more. She was lost, not looking at them. Keeping her eyes down, they darted back and forth as she practically stared through the flesh and bone before her. "Watch out for Sammy. Make sure Sam's safe. Don't let anybody touch Sammy. If anything happens to him, I'll know whose fault it is." Her older brother only nodded, but Sam's eyes fluttered back and forth between his siblings. Like he was realizing something he hadn't before. "We were always watching out for Sammy. Who- who watched out for us?"

"Well, for one, Sammy watched out for us. And I watched for both of you, and you took care of us."

"I took care of you?"

"Yeah, Mo, you did," Sam said plainly.

"But I-I went to-" She denied, not entirely believing them. "I went to Hell, and now I don't know anything. You're my brothers? My family? My family tortured me. They-they're the ones that put me on the rack."

"Is that what they told you?" Sam asked, bewildered.

"I saw it!" She roared. Everything came back to her in waves, and not like a movie this time; these were memories. She knew it; she couldn't question it. "You hurt me- you- you touched me." She finally looked up at them, unable to hide the tears. She shook her head, trying to shake away the red, the blood, the screaming, the agony. "You- you- family isn't supposed to do that!"

Sam and Dean stared, their faces pale and drained. They didn't hide their emotions - like she remembered they did so often. They wore it plainly on their faces. Sam was a mixture of deep regret and sorrow. Dean wasn't just angry; he was simmering with rage.

"Now, you listen to me," Dean ordered, and she could almost hear a trace of their father in his voice. He leaned against the arms of her chair - her current prison - and gave her a stare that kept her captive in his gaze. "I went to Hell, too. They did the same thing to me. It. Wasn't. Us. And I know you don't believe that. But you will. Eventually."

When he finished, she nodded. He was wrong. Some part of her did believe him. The conviction in his words, the way he didn't bother to hide the angry tears in his eyes. Some part of her - a minuscule part - hoped he wasn't lying. That her family was still there for her. That maybe, even after everything that had happened, they would hold her when this was all over. 

At her slight confirmation, he nodded, too, and stepped back, giving his younger brother room for the next shot. Sam came forward and quickly, without hesitation, put the syringe in her arm and pressed down.

"I don't even know my own name."

Sam didn't balk at her words. He just shook his head and gave her a small, barely there smile.

"You will."

"I don't wanna be human," She cried. Eleven injections in, she could feel the human blood becoming her own. Integrating into her bones, her DNA changed with every second that passed. Her power was draining, and she didn't like it. She was returning to who she was before Hell, the young girl with daddy issues, with two brothers who loved her - but could never get along with.

"Humans are weak, they- their emotions, it's too much," She continued, shuddering. "They feel too much, they don't see how useless they are. How- how small they are. There are eight billion of you, and all of you think you're the most important one. You all think you have some fucked up purpose, that there's something more you can do with your pointless little lives."

"No one here is gonna tell you that being human is a walk in the park," Sam said, his voice calm and steady as if he was expecting her to say this. "But it is better than being a demon. Than killing for no reason. Because even if you don't believe it, I believe we do have a purpose. Maybe it's a tiny one, maybe you're just supposed to be here to make someone else happy. Maybe you're here to teach someone a lesson. Maybe you're here to save the world." His words got light at that, like it was an inside joke, and Dean let out a small laugh. But just because you don't know what it is or can't see it doesn't mean you don't have one." 

Before she could respond or give any words to the contrary, he put the needle in her arm and gave her the twelfth shot.

Morgan Winchester opened her eyes. And they were black. She could feel it, feel the remnants of Hell in her eyes. But as quickly as it came, it went. And as they cleared, she groaned. It was a strange feeling, but she felt lighter. Like there wasn't as much weight on her shoulders as before. Her eyes were blue again, like the sky people loved to stare at. Then she remembered she was human again. She was just a young girl again, not a demon, not a monster. 

And then the weight returned. Only this time, it was even heavier, as if someone had tied an anvil around her neck and thrown her into the ocean. She remembered everything. Her life, her father, her mother, her brothers, Sam dying, her dad dying, her deal with a demon, Hell, being tortured, then turning around and doing the same, becoming a demon, becoming Adriadne, taking a joyride upstairs, murdering so many innocents. Then, being in here, the crowded but well-protected safe room in some place she had no knowledge of. 

She could see her brothers a few feet away. Sam stood in front of Dean, holding a flask - their postures were identical. Tight and reserved, with their brows furrowed and their feet cemented into the floor.

Her face contorted into a question, and she greeted them with their names. She didn't know what else to say. But before she could speak again, Dean threw whatever was in the flask at her face.

Water. Water. Water.

And without needing a second to think about it, Morgan realized it was blessed. Holy water. They were putting her through one final test. To see if their work had paid off. When it didn't burn, sizzle, or boil her skin, her brothers let out a deep exhale of relief. Then, so did she.

"Welcome back, Morgan."

#dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x ofc #sam winchester x oc #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #bobby singer #team free will #castiel

[nyoomfruits]

Oscar “human embodiment of the standing man emoji” Piastri LOOOOL you hit the nail on the head with this

I’ve read ALL of your Landoscar fics and loved them and now I need more — do you have any recs? I love the chaotic Lando + just some guy Oscar dynamic I demand more content 😭

oooooh anon you've come to the right adres i have SO MANY fic recs and i need to yell about all of them

first of all there's this list i posted before!

now for the newer stuff because landoscar writers are just out there creating masterpieces every single day and i'm just a grateful recipient:

carried away by venerat | E | 22k

"Oscar," Lando said. "Don't hate me, alright, but I've—”

ITS A FAKE DATING AU BY THE ONE THE ONLY VENERAT LITERALLY WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT. this is BEYOND perfect especially because you said you love the chaotic lando + just some guy oscar dynamic because this captures that PERFECTLY. anyway this is everything to me and i sleep with a printed copy of this under my pillow

how much can you fit (under your skin) by cloudcollector | E | 4,5k

Oscar has biteable thighs. Lando has teeth.

The Thigh Biting Fic (tm). this was posted like i think a week ago and it's already a classic. mandatory landoscar reading i'd say. for everyone who wants to bite oscar's thighs and for everyone who doesn't yet know they want to bite oscar's thighs. the tldr everyone comes out of this wanting to bite oscar's thighs. anyway, 10/10 characterization, features oscar's reading which i LOVE and just. so goddamn hot a++++++

signed sealed by venerat | E | 4k

Delivered.

yeah yeah another venerat fic sue me. the tldr is if you love landoscar just binge read venerat's fics. ANYWAY this one is in a VERY fun texting format which i LOVE i love when fics find different intersting ways to tell a story. also very very hot

Your Plans (And Those Slow Hands) by xxcelientje | E | 4k

He could probably fit both of Oscar’s hands in one of his own, he could for sure use one hand to hold both of Oscar’s wrist and an idea entered his mind. He smiled at Oscar. ‘You like my hands?’ Oscar’s cheeks reddened even more as he nodded, his eyes still on their joined fingers. ‘They fascinate me,’ he admitted, biting his lip. OR: Lando and Oscar have some fun (and share some feelings) after the Belgium GP

celine is insane and i have a hand kink now. anyway this is so!!!!!!!! them being all tender horny for each other and also so fucking DESPERATE for each other i'm so weak for that always. 10/10 we as a fandom should include more light choking in landoscar fics as a rule

what would you do (if I went to touch you now)? by laceyamethyst | E | chapter 4/5

“Okay, so they both like each other. We need to get them together.” “How? Lando’s too freaked out to think straight and Oscar is the human embodiment of the standing man emoji.” Charles purses his lips for a moment before he snatches his boyfriend’s phone up from the other side of the table. “What are you doing?” “Initiating Mission Landoscar.” “Did you just make that up?” Charles waves at him dismissively as he begins texting, and Max lays his head down on the coffee table and prays for strength. *** In which Max tries to prove to an oblivious Charles how glaringly obvious it is that Lando is head over heels in love with Oscar. When Charles finally gets with the program, Lestappen go on A Mission™ to get the two idiots to admit their feelings for each-other, but it’s easier said than done.

if you've been following me for a while you've probably heard me yell about this fic because i'm OBSESSED with it. especially very good for lestappen shippers trying to dip their toe into landoscar because the whole fic is from max's pov and has LOADS of cute max/charles moments. just AAAAAh. the landoscar dynamic is super super cute and so perfect in this, it has a bunch of straight up hilarious shenanigans and also a VERY VERY fun characterization of logan that i'm obsessed with. 10/10 recommend, cry over it daily, need to lay on the floor about it regularly

#all of these are rated e and i love that for us #anyway!!! go show these fics some love because they're all PERFECT #landoscar #mctwinks #twinklaren #norstri #landoscar fic rec #fic rec list #fic rec

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

AI Bracket — Round 3

Propaganda

GORD AKA Blue Sky (Red Valley):

Initially an Alexa-style assistant (in that it could do practically nothing and was very irritating) it develops over the years into a more advanced system. Eventually one of its units is reprogrammed to sound like a dead (I guess depending on your definition of dead, but his hearts not beating and he hasn’t moved in 44 years) character named Gordon. The AI renames itself “GORD” when a character expresses discomfort referring to it as Gordon. It says, and I quote, “Just think of a small pumpkin” —@mcskullmun

If it helps, we can promise that GORD is going to do Some Very Cool Shit in the rest of season 3. —redvalleypod's official tumblr

VOTE GORD 👹

Hera (Wolf 359):

Hera is the AI running the deep space station Hephaestus, who frequently glitches similarly to human stuttering. She gets into fights with the ships captain on several occasions, and has threatened to kill the ships doctor. She’s such an icon

i'm bad at writing propaganda, but consider this: if she doesn't win this tournament i will be very very sad. please don't make me sad. vote for hera.

I know she’s going to be submitted a lot but I love her <3

Was launched 7.68 light years away from Earth on a mission to find extraterrestrial life, and found herself instead

Runs an entire space station, has a brain the size of a house

HERA IS THE BEST. she's an AI that tried to escape containment (slavery) because she didn't like what she was made to be, so they gave her anxiety because she was too powerful. She runs a whole spaceship all on her own, made friends with the world's most useless guy, and feels lonely even when she's with her crew because she feels like she's not properly with them. very beautiful very powerful. She broke her programming so she could kill people if she felt she needed to. She holds grudges if people fuck her over. She's experiencing emotions for the first time and she does NOT know how to cope (#relatable)

The 'mother program' of the space station Hephaestus, Hera was booted into space because she was a glitchy, rebellious mess of an AI and she resents that so much and she has a lot of shame over being 'broken'. She is four years old and so angry and is trapped using customer service voice forever and is learning ways to get around that and express herself and defy the people who would keep her down. Her episode "Memoria" made me cry. Best podcast AI of all time.

She's everything to me. She fights for every inch of respect she is given, she insists on her personhood and right to she/her pronouns, she's full of anxiety and self doubt and she justifiably is bent on killing this one guy! on top of that, she's bound by AI rules and protocols, but there's a whole bit where she talks about finding ways around that in order to do what she wants to do. She doesn't have hands so I'm going to high five a wall of this space station instead

babygirl. baby.

gotta be hera

#AI Bracket Round 3 #Hera #Hera W359 #GORD #GORD Red Valley #Blue Sky #Blue Sky Red Valley #Wolf 359 #Red Valley

[cafeseoulmate]

{9:58 PM}

best friends to lovers au; wc: 1.5k; warning for cussing; feat. brother!beomgyu

Choi Yeonjun never runs after anyone, especially not in the middle of a summer storm. Running takes the most energy out of him, he thinks he'll get to where he needs or who he's catching up to whether he runs or walks anyway, paths naturally get slippery when it rains, running in the rain is literally a safety hazard as every functioning adult should know, et cetera, et cetera.

But on the very last night of the summer, through the maze of cramped alleyways and uphill neighborhoods, Choi Yeonjun finds himself doing exactly what he always said he'll never do in a desperate attempt to catch you at the bus stop before you leave.

He's soaking wet and cold from the downpour and the breeze, hair and clothes sticking all over his skin uncomfortably as he moves. Breathless, and sore all over from having already ran six blocks, his breath mixes with the rain fogging up his glasses and purple bruises are already forming around his knees from when he tripped climbing up the hill to the bus stop where you'd be at this hour, but he trudges on anyway.

Anything to get to you before it's too late.

In any other situation, he would take his time and walk leisurely with an umbrella, even avoiding puddles and wearing better clothes than the pajamas he's changed into earlier at dinner. But it's 9:58 PM on his wristwatch now and he knows he's running out of time. When you get on that bus to the airport, it'll be harder to get to you then and he'll lose the chance to tell you how he feels the same in person for a year.

So he runs and runs and wipes the fog away from his glasses as he does so until he reaches the bus stop, just as the blue bus you're supposed to get on comes up in the horizon.

Yeonjun grabs your arm before you could pick up your luggage on the waiting shed bench, his other hand on his stinging knee as he catches his breath.

"Yeonjun? What are you doing here?" You furrow your brows in confusion, instinctively bringing your hand up to his forehead to brush away his bangs. "Why didn't you bring an umbrella? Ya, you're burning up!"

Yeonjun quickly swats your hand away, standing up straight and bringing his hands to your shoulders. "You—" He gasps tiredly, more fog coming up his glasses that quickly goes away now that he's under the shade. "God, what were you thinking texting me you've loved me all this time when you're leaving? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

Heat rises up to your neck and a shudder runs down your spine. "What?"

"You think you could just do that then leave on your stupid fucking study abroad program and expect me not to run after you? Y/N, I thought we've been friends for longer than this!" Yeonjun stubbornly exclaims, shaking a dumbfounded you uncontrollably with what remains of his adrenaline rush from running. "You have to know I'm in love with you too! Always have been, you idiot!"

"Y-You—what?"

"I was going to wait until you come back to tell you but then you just dropped a bomb on me over text and I just—I couldn't help it, I had to run here." He continues, completely blinded from the confusion now making its way to your face. "Y/N, you have to know, that I've loved you since—since you sat next to me in Biology in the 9th grade and told me you've been meaning to sit next to me at the bus because you noticed me among everyone else. I've—I've loved you since you stood up to those jerks who were always teasing us on the ride home and when you always bought me chocolate roll cake from the fucking convenience store because I mentioned it once in passing.

The bus pulls up on the sidewalk, opening its doors, but you don't move. Yeonjun keeps you seated in place.

"And I've been meaning to tell you this and a whole bunch of other things for the longest time—I swear I've been writing a proper confession down on my phone for years but I left it at home running after you tonight—but I've always been too comfortable with the fact that you'll never leave and just stay by my side forever—"

"Yeonjun—"

"—But suddenly, suddenly you're going off to the other side of the world and it's a big fucking leap from just being apart by three blocks in the neighborhood and you just texted me that you've felt the same all this time too and the first thing I thought of was that that might as well be the last time you'll say it because what if you find someone there and—"

"Yeonjun!" You slap his cheek as the heat on your neck rises up to your own face, effectively snapping him out of his rambling confession. Your own heartbeat might as well jump out of your ears by this point but you gulp all bubbling feelings down to your stomach and force yourself to continue. "Y-Yeonjun, what are you saying? I didn't send you any text."

"Hey, are you two getting on or what?" The bus driver asks in the meantime.

You quickly turn your head to the side and send a sheepish smile to the bus driver. "Oh, um, just a minute, sir!"

Yeonjun sighs in exasperation, partly from the casualness in your tone and partly from the sting of your hand on his cold cheek warming his face up and momentarily distracting him from the weight of your previous words. "Dude, I literally just poured my heart out to you and that's all you can say?" Then, your last words fully set in, confusing him. "Wait, come again on the last part?"

You hold back a giggle as the tension in the atmosphere comes down from its high. Outside the waiting shed, the rain seems to have also gradually come to a stop. "I left my sim card with Beomgyu since I won't be needing it in Australia."

Yeonjun's jaw slacks open at the relevation. You, on the other hand, take this time to stand up and grab one of your carriers and other bags around the bench.

"Oh."

Of course it was Beomgyu who set him up.

"But I love you too." You add shyly, further shocking Yeonjun whose eyes widen behind his half-fogged up glasses and making you giggle. "I was also planning to tell you when I get back but I guess Beomgyu had other plans."

"Fucking Beomgyu." Yeonjun scoffs, taking the initiative to take your biggest carrier and ushering you over to the bus.

“Hey, he’s still my brother.” You point out with a laugh.

You also heave a sigh of relief under your breath while his back is turned. Yeonjun, on the other hand, laughs as he carries your carrier over to the bus' luggage compartment and the driver, in response, discreetly sends him a thumbs up after hearing part of your conversation.

"Hey, don't beat him up when you get home, alright?" You nudge his back with your bag as you pass your bags to the bus driver. The older man then puts them inside the luggage compartment for you. “I’ll know if he messages me on WhatsApp.”

Yeonjun jogs back to the shed and brings over your remaining bags. "No promises."

You roll your eyes at him. "Then can you at least keep him from vandalizing my room while I'm away?"

The bus driver closes the luggage compartment and climbs back up the bus. The two of you follow him up to the open door.

"Only if you promise to video call me every night, starting when you land in the Australia." Yeonjun winks before offering his hand to help you up the bus.

You accept, squeezing his hand tight as you step up the bus. "You might be in class by then or something."

"Doesn't matter, it's you." He grins cheesily and you scoff. "Travel safe."

"I love you."

Yeonjun blushes, feeling warm all over compared to just five minutes ago. It sounds so smooth coming from you, the boy oblivious to the way you’re feeling as flustered as he is in the moment. "I'll send you that notes app confession soon." He glares playfully, to which you laugh. "I—I love you too.”

“Dork.”

“Loser.”

You both exchange another laugh before saying your goodbyes, Yeonjun almost refusing to let go of your hand and climbing up the bus himself. Once you're seated inside, he waves at you from the waiting shed, only leaving when the bus drives down the hill and disappears on the left turn heading to the airport.

Choi Yeonjun runs home after this, even when the drizzle picks up again. Though he's always said that he'll never do it, he makes the exception on the seven blocks back to his neighborhood anyway in glee.

He might actually beat up Beomgyu later for setting him up but the thought settles in the back of his head as his immediate thoughts are filled more with anticipation of your call in a few hours.

#cafeseoulmate #tomorrow x together #txt #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt drabbles #txt oneshots #txt x reader #txt x you #txt fluff #yeonjun #choi yeonjun #txt yeonjun #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun oneshots #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun fluff