#the second time sam blatantly made a pass at his brother right there on our screens but only the first time he was soulless

[alaynestone]

6.09 clap your hands if you believe

#the second time sam blatantly made a pass at his brother right there on our screens but only the first time he was soulless #samdeanedit #wincestedit #wincest #samdean #supernatural #whatever this is #soulless!sam #s6 #clap your hands if you believe #spnedit #*

[auriel187]

10 Things I Hate About You (Sam Winchester edition)

A/N: This is just an exert of what I have written so far...there will be more. Also, not specifically set in the 90’s or 2020’s.

Sam (POV)

“Well, Mr. Winchester. I see we’re making our visits a weekly matter.” The Guidance Counselor said with a snide smile. She spoke almost bitterly, causing the young brunette to roll his colour shifting eyes in reply. He honestly couldn’t be bothered by her at this point. “Only so we can have these moments together.” He bit back with a forced smile. He stole a glance at her open computer. It was a widely known fact amongst the seniors that Ms.Perky spent most of her time writing her “romance” novel instead of, well... doing her actual job. “Should we get down to it, or should I turn off the lights?” He asked snarkily, adjusting his hold on his backpack. The shorter woman sent a glare his way as she reached for his discipline sheet from her desk. “Very funny, cowboy. It says here that you exposed yourself in the cafeteria.” He then huffed humorlessly. Did he even need to explain himself, it’s not like he’d get into trouble, he’s been living alone for the past four months. “I was joking with the lunch lady. It was a bratwurst.” He said not really ashamed at his actions but weirded out. It seemed more like something his brother would do.

“Well, a bratwurst. Aren’t we the optimist.” She quipped, with her eyes leveled to his crotch through his baggy blue jeans. ‘Gross’ he thought as his face contorted in disgust. She was still looking, even after a few seconds of awkward and impenetrable silence. “Next time, stick to the saddle, Texas. Scoot!” I left the room with an eye roll, I could have corrected her, told her I was from Kansas but I kinda had a feeling she didn’t give a shit and honestly, neither did I.

I walked down the hallway, towards my English class. Nice class if I was in the mood to listen, sadly that was rarely the case. Too many things distracting me about that class. Mostly that fuck boy model making some off handed comment that would get his ass flattened if people actually had the balls to stand up to him. As I made my way to class one thing I noticed is the fact that everyone is either blatantly staring or flatly avoiding looking at me. I caught the eyes of some of my schoolmates standing outside the Ms. Perky’s office, watching as they all began whispering the rumors that somehow spread at the sound of my name. I turned to glare at one of the guys staring at me. Another trust fund kid who wore their cardigan as a necktie. Those idiots who think they’re brilliant just because their dads donate to the school and they can’t pass a class no matter how simple the shit we’re learning is.

I seriously despise his school.

y/n (POV)

As much as I loved English class, I really would rather shove pins into my eyes rather than sit here with these flaming imbeciles. Being one of the six girls in the class of almost thirty didn’t help. Our teacher walked in with a look on his face that told me he was already done with all our crap. It was honestly quite funny. I take my seat in the middle of the class, Mr. Morgan chose to separate the girls from one another. It mainly had to do with the fact that they were vapid slow witted brats who didn’t read anything without a steamy sex scene and a muscle bound long haired Adonis on the cover. It was stuff like that that made me glad I was nothing like them. All these girls sitting around with their ‘I’m-not-like-other-girls’ crap just to drop their pants at the first guy to give them attention. And then there’s me, avidly avoiding contact with most people or completely annihilating the rest, what does it say about me that I’d rather have everyone hate my guts rather than change everything about myself to have friends who’d just talk shit about me when my back was turned?

“Okay class. What did y’all think of ‘The Sun Also Rises’?” Mr. Morgan began the second the bell rang. I saw one of the girls raise her hand with a fanciful flare and flick of her hair. I promise I’m not gonna internally barf if she ever does that shit again. “Oh, I loved it. He’s so romantic.” She melted at the thought, what an idiot. “Romantic, Hemingway? He was an abusive, alcoholic misogynist who squandered his inheritance following Picasso trying to nail his leftovers.” I mumbled aloud as I knocked lightly on my desk. I really needed to stop doing that. I could almost feel the eyerolls of my classmates. This’ll be good. “As opposed to a bitter, self righteous hag who has no friends?” Joey chastised me from his seat a few desks away from mine. “Pipe down, Chachi!” Mr. Morgan bit back, in my defence. I knew it was just because Joey pissed him off as much as he did myself. I slouched in my seat as I practically growled “I guess in this society being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time.” I heard so chuckles from my classmates. Mr. Morgan just looked at me. “Can’t we read something different? What about Angie Thomas or Charlotte Bronte? Sylvia Plath?”

“What about them?” A voice echoed through the class, everyone turned their attention to the door, where two guys stood. The first one walked in and took a seat next to Joey, the other stood filling the doorway. “What did I miss?” He asked, taking a seat in the back of the class. He was wearing around four layers right now and all I could think of was how the hell has he not melted? “The whitewashed patriarchal values that dictate our education.” I said quickly, noticing the slight head tilt and small smile before I turned back around.

“Mr. Morgan, do you think it’s possible to get y/n to take her midol before she comes to class.” Joey and her douche brigade all laugh like that was the funniest shit on the planet. Mr. Morgan just deadpanned, looking Joey dead in the eye and saying “One day you’re gonna get bitch slapped, and I’m not gonna do a thing to stop it.” The class erupted in laughter and I just sunk in my seat knowing exactly what was coming. “And y/n, I wanted to thank you for your opinion. I must be tough growing up with the struggles of upper middle class suburban oppression. It must be tough. But before you storm the PTA for better...lunch meat or whatever you well off girls fuss about, ask why they can’t get books written by a black man.” He finished his rant, staring at me. Waiting for a rebuttal possibly, so I gave him one.

“Angie Thomas is a black woman. And I ask for curriculum adjustments for more diversity in the books we read. I’ll be sure to specify my wishes next time. Anything else?” I had a few chuckles at my reply, most likely due to my overabundance of sarcasm and smartass clap backs. I wanted to know who it was but before I could, Mr. Morgan kicked me out. “Yeah, go to the office. You’re pissing me off.” I groaned, grabbing my bag and heading to the door. As I walked, I felt a pinch on my ass. Before I could really think about it, my textbook was connected to the culprit’s face. I lost all sympathy when I saw Joey rubbing the side of his face and glaring at me from the ground. Mr. Morgan was laughing hysterically in the front of the class while some of my classmates were gasping for air in their seats.

@thinkinghardhardlythinking

[thesunshinebunny]

The incubi with an s/o that’s an Egyptian queen in their under realm

Uuuuuhhhh nice, I really like it. If I see you guys looooove it like I do, I’ll make a oneshot !!! Before starting, a little clarification. The S/O have their tattoos and skin in esmerald shade (sorry if it is not your favorite color) and can transformed into a snake of the same color, apart from being able to change the size depending on the situation; Aaaaand they can also transform into a black cat.

Let’s Goooooooo

_** **_

James

Both of tou met when The Demon Lord suggested that a marriage agreement between the two realms would facilitate the attainment of more power and strength.

James didn’t really like the idea of ​​marriage, and you less.

Buuut, keep a badasssss look you guys, no matter the circunstancies.

You and your parents traveled to his kingdom and let’s say the meeting between you five wasn’t the most pleasant.

Your parents accepting the offer, but only if you agreed to marry James, otherwise, there would be no agreement.

You on the other side, indifference to the whole situation, just wishing to get into the first library you saw and stay there until departure.

A shy and extremly nervous incubbaby James.

The Demon Lord angry AF, threatening to invade your kingdom if you didn’t accept marriage.

Aaaaanyway, bad first meetings to the side, you saw James again in the throne room when you were reading a huge book about war tactics.

“Who do you think you are, sittting comfortably on the king’s throne?”

That fucking imp, since you arrived he doesn’t leave you alone. Wherever you go, this bastard always has a criticism to make.

“It should be an action of treason, just waits until The Demon Lord knows about this, you’ll regr…”

“Leave her alone, NOW”

James to the rescue, anyone doubt it for a moment?

The imp left, cursing under his breath.

“Forgive his habits of meddling where they don’t call him, it’s quite irritating.”

“Yes, too much. It wasn’t necessary for you to came to defend me, if he had continued a little longer I would have injected my poison. He would have been paralyzed for a few days, damn spawn. ”

poison? James.exe stops working

You had to transform yourself so the poor baby could understand.

James.exe loves it

And when you stayed in a naga version, he may have discovered a new kink.

Leaving the “arranged” marriage, you really got along, even on the days you stayed in his kingdom, a little love story could’ve been born.

Heartbroken when you had to return to your kingdom.

The two of you gave each other a small memory to not forget.

You gave him a small jar with your poison to use in that unfortunate servant.

He gave you one of his favorite books.

More heartbroken to know he leaves with his brothers to the human world, leaving you behind, alone.

Erik

Both of you met in the gardens of your kingdom (strange thing, right?)

For some strange reason, which wasn’t an arranged marriage or an alliance, The Demon Lord decided to visit your parents’ kingdom, and with him he took James and Erik.

While The Demon Lord and his “favorite heir” had a private audience with your parents, Erik was allowed to roam the long, heated halls of the castle.

Your fucking kingdom is very veeeeeeeeeeery hot, what the hell !!

He found a large entrance with the rarest and most startling flowers he has ever seen and, out of simple and obvious curiosity, he passed the threshold, to end up up encountering an immense garden.

An incredible view if I say so myself.

And speaking of views … your emerald skin positioned in the middle of the garden could called the attention of any demon.

“Ah! Aren’t you a beautiful sight? I wouldn’t be bother to melt on your beautiful skin. ”

If looks could kill … your kingdom would already be at war with Erik’s.

“Is that how you generally introduce yourself? Without saying your name or bothering to know it of the other person with whom you blatantly try to flirt? ”

Matthew voice You’re going to need some cold water for that burn.

“I’m sorry, you’re totally right, it wasn’t my intention to disrespect you in that way. My sincere apologies ”

Okey-dokey, leaving bad impressions aside, let’s go to the good.

His stay in your castle made the free and boring time before your coronation more enjoyable.

Taking care of the garden.

Reading poems.

Allow Erik to participate in political meetings between the two kingdoms.

Long nights talking about everything and nothing.

You promised to see each other again on your coronation’s day.

Spend some time alone after so much stress.

Breakfast with the dawn.

Among many other sweet things.

But that meeting never happened.

Sam

First very bad impression.

At first he thought you were one of his damn father’s new wives. He received you with enough servers and put together a great banquet to introduce you to his sons.

With the cards on the table and Sam understanding you were actually going to be betrothed by one of the incubrothers, his angry face broke down.

Sam being Sam, he denied the option of being a suitor in that damn arranged marriage.

He tried to avoid you most of the time you were in the palace.

No speaking, No eye contact, nothing.

It started to be irritating.

He thought you were a silly princess who needed thousands of servants to survive and that your only goal in your pathetic life was to marry and be queen.

He had the audacity to say it in the throne room when you confronted him for being so rude.

He turned his back on you before you could even open your mouth and went to the door.

“I don’t think you know who you’re talking to”

You reached him in a second, like…how the fuck?

He then notice your esmerald naga form, with emerald snake eyes.

Fucking badass if he say so.

Maybe a little turn on.

He took his time to meditate and apologize. His pride didn’t let him looked at you in the eye.

He talks to you whenever he feels alone in this big fucking castle. He starts to enjoy your company too.

Loves when you become a snake to scare away his servants.

You may or may not let him get on your tail and take a quick and small walk in the … gardens? Back of the castle? Whatever

You are there when he need towreak his anger from a bad day.

He tried to take you with him and his brothers to the human world, but for you, it was impossible.

“I am the only heir to my parents’ kingdom, I am devoted to my people, I can’t abandon them”

You may have seen him shed a tear before he crossed the portal.

And that was the last time you see each other, for 10 long years.

Matthew

While walking through the palace inventing new toys, he saw a small black spot moving with the corner of his eye.

When he turned his head, that spot was gone.

Back to bussines then.

But before he could even think of a new design, he felt something brush his leg.

He looked down and a little black cat with big emerald eyes was stroking his leg with its head.

He have diessss for cutenes !!!

He’s stroking his head for a while when an imp of his father appeared inside the map.

“It’s amazing that The Demon Lord continues to let you live in his castle, you’re nothing more than an immature and childish demon”

Matthew was already used to this kind of comment and it was better to ignore them than to confront them.

But apparently a certain cat did not think the same.

What was once a small feline with black fur, was now a huge emerald snake two meters long.

The snake squeezed the damn imp until he goes violet and left him unconscious for a good while.

Matthew may have been scared a little.

BUT… low key sattisfac.

“What would you do without me, sweet cheeks?”

He was taken back by the previous transformation that didn’t realized that the snake was now a succubus of emerald eyes and tattoos.

He never knew that a succubus could look good with snake’s eyes.

Also, whe he knew you’re a QUEEN?!?!?!

Fuck yeah !! You’re even more hotter.

Loves to give you some of his toys, even the weird ones.

Absolutly LOVES when he cooks for you..oh, OH, no, delate that. HE REAAAALLLY LOVES when both of you go to the fucking kitchen and cook the fucking living shit for the both of us.

Every plate cames out more delicious than the previous one.

He give you a few recipes for you to try in your kingdom at the time of your departure.

Cooking is a way to remember the sweetness and love that Matthew managed to give you during the few days you were in his castle.

That habit becomes a nightmare when a servant entered the kitchen to warn you that the children from The Demon Lord went to the human world.

The cake you planned to send was scattered all over the floor.

Damien

He was being ridiculed by one of his “father’s” trusted servants when he met you.

“It’s only a matter of time before The Demon Lord throw you out of the castle like a malnourished dog.”

Do you know what is the worst? Not the heartbreaking comments, but Damien getting used to hearing them.

“It is a miracle that you are still alive despite the non-existent food that we are allowed to give you. You are nothing but a hindrance to everyone here, why don’t you do us a favor, including you, and leave before our lord … “

The servant was paralyzed and turned violet … apart from falling to the ground completely rigid.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt? Do you need something? ”

An angel sent from heaven.

Regain your composure Damien !!!!

His little knight to the rescue

Ok, I’m done.

Hidden readings in the library at the time he told you about his illiteracy.

Even once in a while you allow him to read your mind to continue learning to read and pronounce the letters.

Ancient and current Egyptian writing and reading classes.

Human language writing classes.

Talks in one of his brothers’ rooms.

“How can you become a snake?”

“Why doesn’t the color of your tattoos match the one of your eyes?”

“Do you spend a lot of energy transforming?”

“Can you avoid reading people’s minds?”

Oopss, delicate subject.

When you returned to your kingdom, you gave him a small mirror which had a twin in another part of the realm (more specifically your castle)

When he wanted, both of you could see each other from a distance and you could continue teaching him.

You broke the mirror the last time you saw Damien through it.

You saw him … in human clothes, in the human world, and he didn’t have the decency to warn you … or to take you with him.

#seduce me the otome #seduce me the otome 2 #seduce me #james anderson #erik anderson #sam anderson #matthew anderson #damien anderson #seduce me james #seduce me incubros #seduce me erik #seduce me sam #seduce me matthew #seduce me damien #james x reader #erik x reader #sam x reader #damien x reader #matthew x reader

[alippy711]

Falling Away With You-Ch.11

Wasn’t planning on posting tonight but the B’s loss has me thrown and I already need more pasta in my life so I need to get this filler chapter out of the way.

So chapter 12 will *possibly* be up tomorrow, I just have to edit.

#############

Chapter Eleven: In The Area

 I drummed nervously on my steering wheel as the phone rang three times before he finally picked up.

 “Hey Ash” His deep voice came through my speakers warming me through.

“Hey you, so im sorta in your area and was wondering what you were up to tonight?” The words spilled frantically from my lips and I gripped the steering wheel tighter as my hands began to shake waiting for his answer.  

 “In the area huh? What a coincidence. You trying to come see me?”

 Only Evan would answer my question with another question.

 “I asked a question first Mr. Mathews” I heard him chuckle on the other line making my heart skip a beat.

 “Currently im doing nothing, but Jared’s coming over in a bit. Now you can answer my question”

“Just had a late lunch with some cousins north of the city and I’ll be driving right through Boston so I figured I would see what you were up to, but it’s Saturday and you have plans-” He cut off my rambling before I could continue back tracking.

“But nothing I haven’t seen you since Monday and im sure Jared would love to see you, when should I expect you? Besides was hoping to see you this weekend but I didn’t want to seem too eager” I felt a blush go straight to my cheeks and I was thankful we were on the phone.

“So I get to look like the eager one?” I joked.

“Exactly, and I can hear that eye roll through the phone” He knew me too well.

“I’ll be there in twenty, goodbye Evan”  

I heard him laugh on the other end as I hung up the call before he could say anything. I did a little shimmy in my seat proud of myself for actually being the one to make a move for once. I had wanted to see him but didn’t really know the etiquette on hanging out after you have your first two dates in a 48-hour time span.

I was pulled from my excitement as David’s name popped up on my car screen signaling a text. I clicked the button on my control center letting the female voice read his message out loud.

“You coming to game tonight?”

“That’s a hard no” I spoke out loud, thankful that the car couldn’t respond to messages. I couldn’t help but feel that it was some weird omen that David texted minutes after I hung up with Evan.

It had been two days since I stayed over David’s and while I didn’t regret having sex with him it definitely wasn’t helping me figure out my situation with Evan. I knew what I was getting with David, but I wasn’t sure how far along my feelings for Evan were and spending more time with him was the only way to find out.

I successfully navigated my way through the crazy streets of Boston and miraculously found street parking a few steps from Evan’s place. Before I got out of my car I sent a text to David telling him I was with Evan and wouldn’t be at the game. I realized Mel was right about me needing to be more transparent with David about Evan and probably vice versa but I wasn’t really ready for that yet. I put my phone on do not disturb and pushed all thoughts of David down as I made my way up the brownstone steps to Evan’s apartment.

“Hey you”

Evan’s bright smile met me as he opened the door and immediately reached for me pulling me into a hug.

“Hi Evan, how are you”

We stayed in our embrace a few more seconds before he pulled away stepping aside to allow me to walk inside.

“Im great, now that you’re here. Can I get you a drink? I don’t have any liquor and I know you’re not a big beer or wine fan but I do have some cider beer”

I smiled as he summed up my alcohol preferences to a T.

“That would be great” I put my purse on one of the barstools and leaned against the island as he handed me a beer.

“I hope I didn’t ambush your guy’s night”

“Of course not, it’s just Jared”

Jared was Evan’s older brother by about two years who had gone out with us a few times but it had been months since I saw him.

“Im really glad you called, four days was too long after two dates in like 48 hours”

I felt my face blush as I stared at my beer picking at the label. Evan reached out taking the bottle from my hands placing it on the counter before stepping towards me closing the distance between us. He put a hand under my chin tipping my head up so I was looking at him and I bit my bottom lip nervously as his eyes flicked down to my mouth stilling my nervous habit.

“I think I’ll be the eager one this time” His voice was soft and I nodded against his hand that cupped my cheek. I rose up on my toes as he leaned in, meeting his lips halfway letting myself melt into the kiss and his body. The hand that was on my cheek went to the back of my neck deepening our kiss as a soft moan escaped my lips. By the time we pulled away we were breathing heavy and I could feel the heat from my cheeks spread throughout my body.

“I think I like when you’re the eager one”

I said giving him a wink as I grabbed my beer and headed into the living room while he laughed behind me.

##

“Wait, so thatwas the night you got the nickname slippy? How did I miss that?” Jared managed to ask in between fits of laughter

“Because you weren’t on the party bus to witness her eat shit on the sidewalk”

Evan’s words only added fuel to Jared’s laughter and I playfully swatted at him from beside me.

“Those Quincy sidewalks were torn the fuck up from winter so it wasn’t totallymy fault” I attempted to defend myself, but knew it was a losing battle.

“Were you already drunk?” Jared asked finally getting control of his laughter.

“Nope. She was stone sober, making it even better”

Evan flashed me a smile which I returned with a hard glare.

“It was dark and I had heels on, so again not entirely my fault”

“Best part? She was in a dress so she cut up her knee and we had to make the driver stop at CVS so we could get band aids”

This had them both roaring with laughter while I sat cross armed and pouting.

“Aww don’t pout, it was embarrassing but it resulted in a great nickname”

I rolled my eyes at Evan’s futile attempt to make me feel better.

“Wow, what a night for you. Started out by falling then ended the night by blacking out and making out with random people”

Evan so kindly continued to remind me of my drunken antics during Kim’s birthday three years ago. For some reason I was always a shit show when we went out for her birthday.

“Shit I remember that, how exactly did that go down?” Jared looked between the two of us waiting for one us to fill in the blanks.

“Evan asked Kim what she wanted for her birthday, unfortunately I was right next to her, and she replied that her wish was to see me make out with a stranger and that’s really all I remember”

This time I joined the two as we laughed at my drunken expense.

“If im being honest, the same thing happened the year before. There’s proof of me making out with one of her college friends” I buried my head in my hands in embarrassment as the two brothers continued to heckle me.  

“Aww come here”

I felt Evan wrap his arm around my shoulder pulling me towards him. I went willingly nestling into his side laying my head in the crook of his neck. He kissed the top of my head and I felt my heart squeeze from the simple gesture.

 “Foods here!” Jared announced jumping up from his seat on the loveseat just as the doorbell rang.

 “Thank god, im starving”

 “Didn’t you say you had a late lunch?” Evan asked eyeing me.

 “Yeah but that was like 3 hours ago.” He shrugged with a chuckle.

 “I shouldn’t be surprised; I know how much you love food” I flashed him a grin pulling away from his grasp when Jared walked back into the living room carrying the massive bag of Chinese food.

 “Oh. My. God. It smells amazing” I swooned making my way over to the kitchen island.

The boys turned the Bruins game on while we ate which I was grateful for since I hated missing a game, but it definitely felt weird every time David was on the ice as I tried to not get too into how he was playing in front of Evan.

“Im actually surprised you aren’t at the game tonight” Evan pointed out not taking his eyes off the TV.

 “A better opportunity presented itself” I nudged his shoulder with mine and he sent a shy smile my way.

 “Do you go to every home game?” Jared’s question pulled my attention from his brother as I turned to look at him.

“Most of them, the weekday games get a little tricky because I enjoy sleep and hate waking up the next morning”

  “Do you go alone?”

“No, sometimes Sam will come or Addie but if they don’t go there’s usually at least one guys’ girlfriends or wives that I sit with”

I redirected my attention to the game just as David came over the boards for his shift. I watched as he buzzed around the ice working with his line mates to clear the puck out of their zone.

"Hrozný, pořád David! what was that?”

I threw my hands up in annoyance as David made a blatantly bad pass attempting to clear the puck resulting in a turnover and nearly a goal. I took my eyes off the TV and glanced to my left where Evan stared with wide eyes.

“Was that English?” I turned to Jared who gave me the same wide eyed confused look.

“No, that was Czech, sorry”

“What did you say?” Evan asked shaking off the confused look.

“Well Hrozný means horrible and pořád means come on. So I said horrible, come on David” I explained, Evan nodded while Jared still looked at me like I had three heads.

“So you can speak Czech now?”

“Not really I know a few phrases and im pretty good at swearing. I would get way too into the games so I made David teach me some stuff so I wasn’t yelling fuck every two seconds”

“That’s pretty cool, can you understand him when he speaks in Czech?”

“Only if he says the words I know” I laughed. “If he’s having a full on conversation with someone I usually can’t catch anything because he talks too fast and everything seems to just blend together.”

“That’s actually pretty cool, do you help him with English?”

“I try, it usually just ends up with me correcting his grammar when he talks and that always annoys him. But there are some words that don’t have Czech translations so it’s always cool to teach him a new word, especially when he uses them in interviews”

Jared nodded, showing interest in what I was saying while Evan kept his focus on the game seemingly stuck in his head. I should probably keep the Czech to a minimum while I was around him. I guess I didn’t realize how much I’ve integrated it into my daily life until now. Im sure it wasn’t fun for him to hear me talk about David.

“You ok?”

I placed my hand on his shoulder pulling him from his trance and the vacant look on his face turned into a smile when he looked over at me.

“Yeah, im good. C’mere.” He moved the plate on his lap setting it on the coffee table then turned into the arm of the couch nodding for me to join him. I scooted over laying down next to him with my head on his chest and my arm draped across his stomach. He pulled a blanket from the back of the couch spreading it over us with a sigh as he held me close.

“Now im great” He whispered kissing my forehead while I smiled up at him.

We stayed like that for the rest of the game and thankfully David didn’t have any sloppy turnovers and I kept my outbursts in check and Jared left after the game leaving Evan and I to ourselves. About thirty minutes after the game ended my phone vibrated from the coffee table signaling a call, or two as it kept going off. I didn’t have to look to know it was David so I did my best to ignore it. I forgot he was in my favorites, which essentially made Do not Disturb pointless in this case.

“You can get that if you need to”

“It’s nothing important, im here with you” I smiled up at Evan whose lips were set in a hard line.

“How do you know it’s not important?” Something in his voice threw me letting me know he knew exactly who was calling.

“Because I know its David” I untangled myself from him sitting up on the couch bringing my knees to my chest.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?” His eyes glued to the TV

“Is there something, or someone you want to talk about?” I pressed.

He closed his eyes and let out a frustrated groan before sitting up still ignoring eye contact.

“Yes and no. I want to ask about David but at the same time I don’t”

I nodded and placing my hand on his chin turning his face forcing him to look at me.

“I will tell you whatever you want to know. Im as transparent as you want me to be”

“Have you seen him since we went out last week?”

“Only once. I went to the game on Thursday then saw him after”

“Did you stay over?”

This time I looked away and began playing with the edge of the blanket trying to avoid his eyes as I answered. I told him I would be transparent so I couldn’t lie.

“I did. He wanted me to wait for him after the game so we could talk and by then I was exhausted so I just stayed”

He was nodding when I finally looked back at him.

“How much of a chance do I have here, Ash?”

The defeated look in his eyes killed me. I reached for his hand taking it in mine noting how much softer his were than David’s. I set my eyes on him when I turned to answer, knowing he needed my full attention to believe my words.

“Evan, you have a damn good chance. Remember, you can give me the one thing im looking for that he can’t so don’t underestimate my feelings for you.”

He smiled and his lips found mine letting me know that validation was all he needed. Despite being wrapped up in Evan’s touch I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was failing miserably when it came to keeping David out of my relationship with Evan, yet I seemed to have no trouble keeping Evan off my mind when I was with David.

#david pastrnak #david pastrnak imagine #david pastrnak fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #falling away with you fic

[marvelous-heroimagines]

Open Up Your Eyes

Requested by: Anonymous (Here are the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Word Count: 4.1K Warnings: Angst, fluff, physical abuse, emotional abuse

A/N: Based off of Gemini Feed by BANKS

I guess this can be classified as a post-college AU

You can’t help but glance at your phone every few minutes, wondering where Bucky was, and why he was so late. Today was the third time you’d made plans to meet up, and you were hoping that he wouldn’t cancel last minute this time.

After 45 minutes of waiting at the coffee shop, you decide to give your friend a call - a little annoyed that he hadn’t contacted you to say he was running late, but more worried that something that had happened to him on his way.

The line rings for a little too long, but just as you’re about to hang up, he picks up. The first thing you hear is a female voice - his fiancée that you had yet to meet, you guess - yelling. You can’t quite make out what she’s yelling about, but the tone and volume of her shrieks make it obvious that she was angry and upset about something.

“Buck?” you finally say, hoping that he hadn’t answered the call by accident - her screaming made you think that it was a private argument and not something he’d want someone else listening to, “Buck, you-”

“Hey, hey Y/N,” he says suddenly. It was the first time you’d heard his voice since he’d picked up the phone, and you can instantly tell that something’s wrong. His voice is strangled and strained, “I’m sorry I can’t make it today,”

“Uh,” you aren’t quite sure what to say, a little worried that you were on loud speaker, “T-That’s okay. I just was starting to worry that something had happened to you on the way here,”

“No, no,” he reassures you between continues shrieks from his fiancée , “I just... Something’s come up. I’m so sorry,”

“That’s okay,” you barely finish your sentence before Bucky cuts you off,

“I’ve got to go, I’m sorry,”

The line goes dead and you’re left puzzled and a little worried. You’d known Bucky for years now; the two of you met in college and even though you’d briefly moved away, you’d never lost touch. Now that you’d moved back to New York, you were excited to meet up with your best friend again; and it seemed like he was excited for a catch-up too, but never followed through with plans.

Even though you hadn’t caught up with Bucky yet, you had seen your other college friends; Steve and Sam. You saw Steve and Sam fairly regularly now that you were living in New York again; and through their gossip, you had an idea of why Bucky was never showing up to plans that you made with him.

According to Steve and Sam, Bucky’s new fiancée wasn’t their favourite person. You didn’t want to judge her before you met her, but Steve and Sam’s opinions were starting to rub off on you. They thought that she was crazy, and ever since Bucky proposed to her she’d gotten worse. Apparently any time Bucky wanted to hang out with friends - especially female friends - he’d have to get permission. At first you’d figured that Steve and Sam were exaggerating, but the more that Bucky cancelled plans, the more you were starting to believe them.

Feeling pitiful stares from strangers in the cafe that clearly noticed that you’d been stood up, you hurriedly leave cash for your bill and a tip on the table and leave; resigning yourself to a night at home with your housemates.

~~Bucky’s POV~~

Bucky knew that answering your call was a bad idea, but he didn’t know how much worse he’d make things; he should’ve listened to his gut. Helena’s angry screams melted into a deafening white noise after 30 minutes, and Bucky was left with a thousand yard stare in his eyes and nodding every few seconds so that his fiancée didn’t realised he’d stopped listening.

This wasn’t a new place to be in, but her outbursts and outrageous reactions were becoming more and more routine now that his ring was on her finger. He tried so hard not to do anything to piss her off, to remember her rules and follow them so that he wasn’t put in a position just like this one. But it seemed like with each passing day, there were more and more things that she got angry at.

He used to bite back, used to argue with her until his face was blue; but he’s too tired now. Now he’s reserved to taking the screams and waiting it out. It wasn’t all bad with he and Helena - he tries to remind himself. Sure, when it got bad, it was bad. But when they were good... Bucky thinks that they used to be great, but he can hardly remember the last time he and Helena weren’t fighting or angry at one another for some stupid shit. He tried to remind himself of their good times, of why he fell in love with the woman that was screaming her lungs at him, but those memories were so old now - like faded polaroids that had been left in the sun for too long; the memories were faint, and he could hardly remember why he fell in love with Helena in the first place.

~~Reader’s POV~~

“Y/N!” you hear your roommate Natasha yell through your bedroom door, “Sam and Steve are here!”

“Coming!” you yell back as you rush around your room, cursing yourself for not keeping it more tidy. You finally locate your other earring and rip open your bedroom door.

You throw Sam and Steve a smile as they patiently wait just inside the apartment door, and frantically search for your phone. Clint, Natasha’s boyfriend, waves it at you from the couch. You let out a sigh of relief and give him a thankful smile as you shove it into your clutch.

“Have a great night guys,” you say to Natasha and Clint as you join the boys at the door,

“You too,” they both mumble in unison, cuddled up on the couch and attention already focused on their favourite tv show.

You still hadn’t seen Bucky since moving back to New York 2 years ago, but tonight you knew you’d definitely see him - at his engagement party. It wasn’t the ideal way to finally reconnect with your old best friend - you’d been hoping to hang out with him before you met his fiancée - but you didn’t have any choice now.

Sam, Steve and you climb into an Uber and the conversation quickly turns to Bucky and Helena. You stay quiet, not wanting to say anything against a woman you hadn’t even met yet; but as you listen, you grow more concerned for Bucky.

“God,” Sam groans, “I am getting so tired of them together,”

“You know that he accused me of not really being his friend the other day?” Steve adds, his glance landing on you across the backseat of the Uber,

“What?” you say, completely dumbfounded. Steve and Bucky had known each other for almost their entire lives, always had each other’s backs and considered each other brothers. There was a long running joke in college that the two of them were married; that’s how close they were.

“Yeah,” Steve scoffs, “He stormed into my place and started saying shit about how I didn’t actually care for him, and how I was trying to steal Helena from him,”

Sam lets out a dry chuckle, “Who would want to steal the Goddess of Death?” the boys often nicknamed her that,

“It took me 45 minutes to talk him down,” Steve continues, “Turns out that Helena thinks that I’ve been checking her out and been creepy,”

“Oh please,” you finally can’t keep quiet any longer, “You’ve been in love with Peggy Carter since freshman year,”

Steve’s cheeks flush a deep red, but he tries to act as if he didn’t hear you, “Helena put in his head that I wanted her. It was like she was trying to ruin our friendship,”

“Yeah...” Sam drawls out, “That bitch crazy, but we already know that,”

You thought about speaking up, for standing up for a fellow female; but by what you’d heard, she wasn’t crazy, she was abusive. Your concern for Bucky deepens as you consider the truth behind the boys’ words; if they were just exaggerating their stories, or if Bucky’s relationship really was as toxic as you were hearing.

“Why haven’t you said anything to him?” you ask. The boys fall silent, as if they hadn’t even thought of that,

“Well... It’s just- Uh,” Sam stammers,

“It’s not our place,” Steve covers for him, “Why don’t you say something?”

“I haven’t even met the woman,” you defend. You didn’t want to get involved in Bucky’s relationship, but if you decide that if Helena is abusive, then you’d do everything you could to help him.

~~Bucky’s POV~~

As guests steadily arrived, Bucky tried to make himself relax. Helena was close to his side at all times, hardly letting him have a spare second to catch up with old college friends; she always pulled him away to chat with her girl friends after 30 seconds. He was nervous, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.

But the moment the function room doors swung open, revealing his two best friends and you, he felt himself let out a breath and his muscles relax. He still hadn’t gotten to see you since you returned to New York, but you hadn’t changed a bit in 2 years. Your smile still lit up the room, and you still looked as gorgeous as ever.

Helena’s grip around his waist tightens, bringing him out of his trance. Glancing at her, his heart sinks as he notices she staring right at you - a look of bubbling anger already in her eyes. Helena rips him away from the party, ushering him into a small coat closet and he instinctively sharply inhales - not sure whether he was readying himself to start explaining, or bracing himself for the screams.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Helena’s voice is hushed - so that nobody outside could hear, but her tone was sharp,

“Who?” the word slip out before Bucky could stop himself,

“WHO?!” at least one person would have heard that, no doubt, “Y/N Y/L/N,” she spits your name as if it left a bad taste in her mouth,

“She’s one of my best friends,” Bucky defends, “Why wouldn’t I invite her here?”

“Because it’s our engagement party,” Helena says as if the answer was writing on her forehead and blatantly obvious, “She is the last person that I want here tonight,”

Bucky frowns at her, unsure why you caused such an explosive reaction, “Helena,” Bucky says as a surge of confident washes over him, “I invited Y/N because she means a lot to me, and I’m not going to go out there and tell her to go home. So deal with it,”

Helena’s slap was so swift and unexpected that Bucky doesn’t realise it happened until his cheek starts to sting. He stares at his fiancée, wide-eyed and shocked that she’d just slapped him, and she’s no longer someone that he recognises. He woman in front of him, breathing heavily from rage and looking as if she could kill someone, is not the woman he’d fallen in love with; she wasn’t the woman he wanted to marry.

But before he can say a word, the door to the coat closet swings open and he whips around to see you staring at him, confused and awkward.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” you mumble, uncomfortably readjusting your coat over your arm. You look as though you’re about to turn on your heel and leave him and Helena in the closet, but then your eyes focus on the left side of his face - wear it still stung from his fiancée‘s slap - and your face practically drains of blood, “Buck, are you okay?” you ask in a low, concerned voice.

“He’s fine,” Helena spits at you before locking her arm around Bucky’s and pulling him along as she shoves past you.

Bucky was helplessly stumbling along, but he glanced over his shoulder to get one last look at you; looking terrified and worried.

~~Reader’s POV~~

You’re frozen in front of the now empty coat closet for a few minutes, trying to piece together what you’d just seen with how scared Bucky looked. You’d never seen look like that before, and it made your stomach churn.

You slowly move through the motion of hanging up your coat, your mind still preoccupied with what you’d walked in on. But someone pinching your waist pulls you back to reality with a jump. Whipping around, you immediately break into a grin as Wanda giggles at you.

“C’mere monkey,” you giggle with her as you bend down and lift her up, “Oof, you’ve grown since I saw you!”

“Wanda!” Gamora sternly says as she and her husband Peter hurry over to you, Wanda’s brother Pietro happily sitting on his fathers hip, “What did I say about running away?”

Gamora takes Wanda from you before her attention finally settles on you, “Oh my god! How’ve you been?” she gushes, clearly too preoccupied with parental responsibility to even notice that you were you.

You’d met Gamora in junior year of college, when you were finally forced to work a part time job. She bartended with you, but quietly became a part of the friendship group that was now scattered throughout Bucky’s engagement party. Her and Peter got married right after college, and had Wanda and Pietro soon after. Everyone always thought that Gamora and Peter were an odd couple, but they had something that you’d always dreamt of, and they made it work.

You go through the usual rundown of what you’d been up to for the last 2 years, how the work opportunity had been amazing but you’d always known that New York was where you were destined to be. Your speech about the last two years wasn’t nearly as long as theirs. So much had changed for the couple, but they truly looked more in love than ever.

Out the corner of your eye, you spot Bucky talking to Steve and Sam by the bar, so you quickly excuse yourself from the couple of the century and hurry over in hopes that you’d be able to finally talk to Bucky.

His eyes find you just before you’re within earshot, and before you can get out a single word he starts talking.

“Y/N,” he says hurriedly, “I’m so sorry about before... And all the times I’ve cancelled on you, it’s just... Helena and I are going through a rough patch at the moment,”

Steve and Sam silently excuse themselves and leave the two of you to talk, “Bucky, are you okay?” you say again, still concerned about what you’d witnessed earlier, “Did something happen in the coat cl-”

“It’s fine,” he dismisses, but he can’t stop his hand from rubbing his cheek, “It was just-”

“It’s not fine,” you cut him off. Even though Bucky didn’t say it, you knew what had happened, “How dare she?”

“Really, it’s nothing,” he tries to brush off, “That’s just Helena,”

You cock an eyebrow at your best friend, “Abusive?”

“What? No,” Bucky says, completely shocked that that was how you labelled it, “She just got a bit upset,”

“Bucky,” you say in a serious tone, “Look at me,” his eyes slide up to meet yours, “Now, I don’t know her, but what I’ve heard isn’t good. I don’t think what the two of you have is healthy, and I-”

“No, you don’t know me,” a strong, sharp female voice says from behind you. You don’t even need to look over your shoulder to know who’s talking,

“Helena,” Bucky starts but she holds up her hand to silence him,

“It’s time for you to leave,” she spits at you. Your taken-aback and just stare at her disbelievingly, “Now,”

“Bucky invited me,” you say with a strong tone, “So I’ll leave if he wants me to,”

Your sight immediately snaps to Bucky, but he can’t lift his from the floor. He looks uncomfortable and ashamed at the confrontation in front of him. The silence between the three of you stretches on for a little too long, and you start to feel let down by your best friend; he should be sticking up for you... Shouldn’t he?

Helena lets out a short, dry laugh, “Yeah... It’s time for you to go,”

You keep your gaze on Bucky, giving him one last chance to say something. But he doesn’t, he just keeps his eyes glued to his shoes and you have no choice but to leave.

You’re almost out the door when you swear you hear Bucky call your name. But the volume of the party is too loud to be sure, so you brush it off and don’t bother glancing over your shoulder.

Flicking through tv channels, you aren’t even paying attention to what you want to watch; your mind is still too preoccupied by the nights events. You were scared and concerned for Bucky, but it seemed that he didn’t want to realise how toxic Helena was. You bury your head in your hands and let out a frustrated sigh; nothing was worse than knowing the best for someone and them not wanting to see the truth.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes and you have to search through your sheets to find it. You’re frozen for just a moment when you see Bucky’s name on it. As soon as you answer, Bucky starts talking.

“Y/N,” his voice is weak and broken, making your stomach churn, “I’m sorry to do this, but I don’t know who else to call-”

“Bucky, are you okay?” you cut him off, a knot of worry forming in your chest,

“Can you come pick me up?” his voice breaks, and you can tell he feels bad even asking you to leave your apartment at 3am,

“Of course,” you reply without missing a beat, “Where are you?”

“My place,” he answers, “I’ll text you the address... Thank you, Y/N,”

“I’m always here for you, Buck,” you say before telling him that you’re leaving immediately.

Not even bothering to change out of your PJs, you grab Natasha’s car keys - knowing that she wouldn’t mind - and speed off to the address that Bucky had sent.

~~Bucky’s POV~~

Bucky stares at his bare feet, his rain soaked clothes making him shiver and the cut on his cheek stinging every time droplets of water from his hair dripped down his face. Car headlights illuminate his crouched figure, and as he realises that the car is slowing down, he glances up; just being able to spot you through the windshield.

Bucky pulls himself off the curb and trudges to the passenger side door. As Bucky slides into the seat, he can feel your worried look. The both of you sit in silence, Bucky not really wanting to say anything yet, and you obviously not wanting to intrude.

“Buck,” you finally break the silence, “What happened?”

Bucky wants to tell you, to say something, but his mouth can’t form the words. After you realise that he isn’t going to reply, you just nod to yourself and turn the car around. Bucky didn’t know where you were headed, but if it was away from Helena, he didn’t care.

The drive was filled with tension filled silence, but you still don’t try to push Bucky to tell you anything, which he appreciates. You’ve always been there for him, even when he didn’t want to say anything you’d just sit with him and keep him company. It’s not until you enter the underground parking lot of an apartment building that Bucky realising that you’ve driven back to your place.

You lead him into your room, the silence between the two of you still thick in the air. He sits down on your bed, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular and lost inside his own head. He jumps when you wrap a blanket around his shoulders, and he only just then realises how cold and tired he was.

“Buck,” your voice is soft and low. He glances up at you, and sees that you’re staring at the cut on his cheek with concern, “Do you want to talk?”

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes a few times, probably leaving him looking like a fish out of water, but he can’t think of what to say. You turn on your heel and disappear into your ensuite; returning a few moments later with a few first aid supplies. Silently, you tentatively prod at the cut with an alcohol swap - making Bucky involuntarily hiss. You mumble an apology but continue to clean his wound.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you mumble to him as your work, “I didn’t-”

“You were right,” he finally says, his voice weaker and gruffer than he’d like, “Helena... she-”

“Did she do this?” you ask, shocked,

“She, uh,” he clears his throat in the hopes that it’ll sound stronger, “After the party, we had a fight... another fight, and she threw a glass at me... It missed me - barely - and smashed on the wall...” Bucky trails off, not sure where to take the conversation next,

“Bucky,” you finish tending to his wound and just stare at the side of his face, “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but-”

“I called it off,” he cuts you off. Saying the words made it real to him; he expected to feel sad or regretful that he’d called off the engagement, but he’s only feeling relieved,

“I’m sorry,” you mumble and Bucky can see from his peripherals that you drop your eyes to your lap, clearly feeling awkward,

“I should have done it long ago,” he shifts around to face you and hooks his finger under your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes, “You were right, our relationship wasn’t healthy... I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. And it seems that you were the only one that was willing to tell me the truth,”

“I just want the best for you,” you say with a small smile, “Always have, always will,”

Yet another silence falls over the two of you, and Bucky looks at you as if it was the first time. You were your pyjamas, your hair tied up and no make-up, but Bucky swore that you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Do you remember the rumours about us in college?” Bucky says, changing the subject.

You let out a small chuckle, “That we were secretly together?”

“That’s the one,” he says with a small smile, “Do you ever think about that?”

“All the time,” your voice drops to a whisper, having felt the tension that Bucky was giving off with his intense stare,

“Me too,” he admits, and without realising it he’s inching closer to you, “I, uh, used to wish they were true,”

You blink a few times, clearly shocked by Bucky’s confession, “Now I think about it... Me too,” you admit in a shy voice.

Bucky doesn’t even think, he just acts. Before he knows it, he’s kissing you; his hand coming to grip a handful of your hair and the other holding your face. Neither of you had thought that you’d end up together - no matter what everyone else thought - but now that he was kissing you, he realised that a part of him had loved you all along, no matter how much he used to deny it.

Suddenly you break away from him, looking a little breathless and caught off guard, “Buck-” you start,

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” he rushes through his words, making them string together, “I just... I don’t know, but-”

“Bucky,” you say loudly, causing him to stop rambling and listen, “I’m not saying I didn’t like that... Because I did. It’s just... You just got out of something really damaging. I don’t want to be a rebound,”

“You’re not,” Bucky immediately defends, “It’s always been you, Y/N,” your eyes search his, and after you determine that he’s being truthful a small smile pulls at the corners of your mouth, “How about,” Bucky pauses for a second to think through his words carefully,

“We take this slow,” you finish his thought. He gives you a small smile and a nod. Picking up one of your hands, he kisses it tentatively, earning a cute giggle from you.

Tags: @bearded-bucky, @impala-moose, @caitsymichelle13, @heismyhunter, @klutzly, @redstarstan, @leahhavoc, @coffeeismylife28, @invisible2niall, @addictwithafandomblog, @hantu369mc, @festive-assassian, @stratmoxphere, @meep-meep22, @pleasefixthepain, @spn-worm, @strangermarvelthings, @specs15, @sebstanwassup, @wunnywho, @thedarknesswarrior, @girlwith100names, @addictionmarvel, @melconnor2007, @ipaintmelodies, @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked, @spookydoritos, @fanboyswhereare-you, @yoyolovesbucky, @tcmhollnd, @hamiljam-westwing, @lilya-petrichor, @hells-princess, @indecorousthoughts, @janellexox0, @geeksareunique, @courtneychicken, @nyoomiemaximoff, @mizzzpink, @lovely-geek, @bexboo616, @jeanneblanche, @hdthdthdt, @marvelite1998, @rosyfluffyprincess

Tags that didn’t work: @mo320, @sarahp879, @yoinkpeter, @mrs-stan-barnes, @xplumsceptrequeenx, @hesitant-poison

#open up your eyes #reader x bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky #imagine #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #mcu #avengers #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfic #mcu fanfic #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #avengers fanfiction #avengers imagine #avengers fic #post-college au

[hunterartemis]

Couch (Dean X Reader)

Prompt: Some people need to know what is the proper place to fall asleep. My inspiration is this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QxkbRPnYUAU

Read: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Rowena’s return was as unexpected as we thought it would be. So after she decided to snip back the page from the Grimoire we all were anxious to our cores, and spent two nights straight without a wink. 

This was my third insomniac night and I felt my head will burst if I don’t close my eyes for good twenty hours. I turned on the radio to drowse myself but with the 1970′s rock and roll playing at the late night shows, it made me feel the opposite of what I wanted to feel. When I finally thought I would have to see the sky brighten on my subterranean window, I found myself sleepy enough to give up any care I had for the world.

But suddenly my eyes shot open by a wheezy sound.

If there was any god I could pray for my sleep, I would go down on my knees to do it... oh yes, there is one-- but it’s in those Greek Myths.

I followed the wheezy sound through the corridor and saw the lights of the sitting room was still alight in all their glory, and the wheezy indistinguishable sound was coming from an old fashion transistor that blared with soft tune of oldie songs; it was accompanied by snores from the reckless Elder brother, who lolled on the couch like there is no tomorrow. 

The scenery was unfamiliar to me... Dean sleeping on a couch, with three books open on his side and one on his chest, balancing gracefully on his rising and falling chest. His head hanging on his shoulder, with mouth open and drooling. I stood there for some moment, without any clue what to do. Obviously I wanted to smack the living daylight out of him, but my conscious hindered me... There was so many things wrong with my picture: Dean sleeping on the sofa... Dean, the guy who fights for the best place to sleep, he had books laying stray around, one of them was definitely Jour et Nuit (and he doesn’t speak even a pinpoint worth of French), and most of all he was sleeping to songs that made him toss right off-- oh wait, perhaps that kinda makes sense.

 This is so wrong.

I counted my steps back to Dean’s room and found some blankets to lay around him. Placing that on the table, I went to the couch and started to pick the books up and close them before Sam sees them in the morning, neglected and bent-spined and freaks out. After placing them on the table, I climbed on the couch, and placing my knees at either sides of Dean’s thighs, I gently lifted his lolling head and placed it on the short pillows near the armrest.

 It was a tough job as he was heavier than me, but I had to make it do. I tried not to breath too hard as the rising and falling of my chest will make my breasts touch his jaw which was so dangerously near them. I placed one hand on his neck and other at the back of his crown to life him. His slow, deep breaths made my night-shift flutter and made me tickle slightly.I panicked as with this position change he flinched slightly, but his sleep was not disturbed as he automatically nuzzled with the pillow under his head. 

After his head was safely on the pillow, I went down and unlaced his boots and removed his socks and tucked them on the sofa horizontally. The sofa wasn’t long enough for his legs so I hoisted them on the armrest near his feet and saw his toes wiggling in the open air of the room. Finally when he looked comfortable, I placed the blanket over him. I tucked his toes, his sides and then his chin to make sure he wasn’t cold. 

With the inviting warmth and softness, a content expression grazed on his sleeping face. I observed his face closely as he slept: the slowly darkening freckles, the light stubble, the wrinkles under his purplish under eyes, the sleeping frowns that slowly loosened and tightened as he breathed, and his lips parted, to let the air in.

so this is love...mmhm mmhm... so this is love. 

(listen to the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mnxupEXxrTI)

I was so alarmed by the voice that I almost knocked myself out on Dean. I carefully got up and shut the transistor off. My ears were heating up and my heart was beating fast by comparing the timing of the song and what I was just doing. 

Suddenly he started to groan behind me. I panicked again and looked at Dean, who was stirring on the couch, with the sudden stopping of sound. I was so embarrassed that I wanted to run from the place as fast as lightning, but could not. Instead when he drowsily said ‘turn the damn records on,‘ I did a thing even more reckless. I went to him, and started to pat the side of his head to make him sleepy.  

‘Turn the records on...’ he again drawled in his sleep. I was enormously thankful of how he didn’t shot up like a crazy person when the records stopped, like he did when Jack tapped him to wake up at the Stampede Motel when we were in the Dodge City.

I didn’t move from my position: if that confounded Ilene Woods song plays again, I would definitely have a heart attack. So I improvised and did something to him I thought I will never do. I slowly uttered the first thing that came into my mind

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche                                                                        

To my surprise, he didn’t flinch again, so I picked up my courage and continued... 

Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

I never prided myself with my French and the pride subsided even more when I met Sam, who taught himself to speak French to read Occult resources and his formal curriculum in Stanford included Spanish. But I really enjoyed switching the French and English back and forth with this particular song, just like my mother did when she was trying to make me sleep.

Hold me close hold me fast, the magic spell you cast... This is La vie en rose.

The notes reminded me of the time when I was in my hometown, returning home in the late evening in a bus that passed through the brightest parts of the town. The flashing amber lights on the street sides looked like tiny patches of sun in the dark. 

when you kiss me heaven sighs, and though I close my eyes, I see La vie en rose.

Wherever I went I always missed the sound of the crickets in my backyard, they reminded me a security and comfort of home that was taken from me a long time ago. After years, when I thought I lost it, Sam and Dean brought me into the bunker... it felt I like was home again, they took me in and never let go.

When you press me to your heart, I am in a world apart, a world where roses bloom.

And when you speak angels sing from above, everyday word seemed to turn into love song.

Give your heart and soul to me , and life will always be La Vie En Rose

I felt my lids going heavy and heavy, and with Dean soundly asleep, I saw it as my cue to shut the hell up in my room and disintegrate into my bed for oblivion.

...

Extended Ending 

I was on my way to the kitchen to grab some bacon and eggs for breakfast. As I was passing through the corridor, I heard Sam and Dean talking... more like arguing over something. 

‘Dean, stop screwing with the transistor. It’s almost a hundred years old and they don’t make them anymore.’

‘Shut up Sammy... don’t make me smack you.’ I entered the room and saw Sam standing over the edge of the table, glaring at Dean who was turning the knob of the transistor up and down as the songs played for two seconds and whizzed away to the next.

‘qu’est-ce qu’il a?’ (what’s with him?) I asked Sam in French so that Dean won’t understand. Sam looked at me and smirked, ‘je ne sais quoi. Il est fou. Il y a quelque mauvais dans son tete’ (I don’t know, he is mad. There is something wrong in his head) 

‘What did you say to me?’ Dean said angrily, ‘Just because I don’t speak fancy, doesn’t mean I don’t know your tu gracia appellez vous.’

I burst out laughing and Dean’s ears reddened as Sam said ‘dude, you just asked us in Spanish and French... your grace, what is your name.’

‘See... I am already better than you...’ he said and smiled like he just got a gold star. As my laugh subsided I said ‘okay now, I’ll grab some breakfast and catch you later.’ and walked away from the place, but suddenly I heard the brother quarrel again.

‘Dean, what’s the matter with you...?’

‘Sammy, you don’t understand... I need to find it.’ Dean said again, as I heard him moving through the knobs. ‘That song, that song I heard last night in the records but now I can’t seem to find it...’

‘What song you’re looking for?’ Sam asked, ‘if you just tell me, I will find it before the transistor falls apart...’

Dean got up and started to hum the song, and chills ran down my spine as it sounded oddly familiar. Only I knew what was going on, and I felt my cheeks getting warm. Sam, quite nonchalantly answered ‘Oh... it’s La Vie En Rose, and it was right there, track 46: you passed it many times Dean...’ I discreetly peeked behind the wall as Sam knelt to turn the transistor and turned it on. ‘See... I told you.’ he stared at the record fondly as the song played.

‘But it sounded... different.’ Dean complained.

Sam slapped Dean’s shoulder and said ‘first of all you were asleep. Second of all, you dreamed while the song played and the song got distorted: Freudian empiricism of dreams, and thirdly that’s the furthest you were invested in a song genre that wasn’t rock and roll--’

‘but--’

‘If you continue, I will lose my appetite and start to worry if some witch hexed you...’ I hurried my pace towards the kitchen as I watched Sam walking towards the kitchen. But I failed miserably, as my relatively small legs could not compete with his long strides.

‘ _ , I thought you were in the kitchen’ Sam asked me, his brows furrowed in suspicion. ‘Um... I-uh, went to the bathroom and--’

‘The bathroom is right there...’ Sam pointed at the other direction, and then his furrow changed into amusement, ‘wait a minute... were you eavesdropping on us?’

Before I could defend myself Sam figured everything out, ‘that explains why Dean was so nicely tucked in the couch... you did that... did you even?’ Sam was blatantly smiling at me, ‘don’t tell me you sang Dean to sleep and that jerk doesn’t even remember that... oh my god!’ Sam practically bounced on his place, ‘you gotta tell him right now...’

I grabbed Sam’s palm and gathered them in my hands ‘please I beg you, that would be the death of me... please don’t do this to me...’

‘Okay okay fine... we won’t’ Sam added compassionately, ‘but someday, you gotta do that.’

Sorry I am a bit Frenchie here. Just started to learn it and I have nowhere to practice it. So feel free to correct me. Also I couldn’t uses les accents because my keyboard doesn’t support it. So forgive me for that. 

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean x reader #la vie en rose #lullaby #dean winchester fluff #spn songfic

[ivy72376]

TWO-NATION FRIENDSHIP DAY - July 4, 2020

When I was a child, I remember this day was supposed to be a holiday, in our case named the “Philippine-American Friendship Day”, to commemorate the U.S.’s giving the Philippines independence from their colonial rule.  It also was made to coincide with their Independence Day.  But as we went under several administrations, especially after EDSA Revolution, I observed that this day has ceased being named as such and hence became un-holidayed.  I wonder if there is any one today who remembers this day as once a holiday of our land.

 I am not a political person and so, I can only say how I understand about our current foreign relations in simple terms, particularly the love triangle we are now blatantly having with Uncle Sam and the Middle Kingdom (the Visiting Forces Agreement, a.k.a., EDCA for our ties to the east, and our leader’s deference to our populous big brother to the northwest).  However, there is much to be said about keeping our own values and culture, and recognizing our own histories and territorial and administrative jurisdictions, as of higher importance than foreign investments or economic aides.

 When the rest of the world too, are closing borders, but thankfully very cautiously opening them up the last few days to business travelers, one cannot help but wish that hopefully a few of our neighboring countries could include us in their “bubble” too.  As a developing nation, which is supposed to be progressing forward, but thanks to the pandemic we are now undoubtedly taking several steps back, we really need the help of those who are considered bigger and richer economies.  Thankfully too, some of them are extending a helping hand, but then, we must also be careful of the costs.  Our northwest big brother has been widely accused of its ‘debt-trap’ style, along with its heavy-handed handling of its Financial SAR, and its treacherous reclaiming of islands and atolls in our hotspot-disputed SCS/WPS.  Our northeast former conqueror during the second world war is very much willing to help us too, but then, I believe it too is undergoing some financial difficulties because of the pandemic, its economy has been in recession for a few years now, its labor force is slowly being depleted with the low birth rate, while social security seems to sap more and more of its funds due to its highest rate of elderlies who are beyond retirement age. So, we wonder how long will the help last, and would it be beneficial for both of us in the long run?

 These make one wonder if friendship, help and cooperation among nations are still highly relevant today, and will it still be feasible in the future.  When things get worse, what are we going to do? How are we going to lift ourselves up and move on, if the investments stop coming, the businesses fold up, many of us are thrown out of work, and we are left to fend for ourselves?

 Thankfully, as always, we have hope in GOD’s Word.  Today, we read in the book of Proverbs chapter 3 verses 5 to 10: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.  Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord and depart from evil. It shall be health to your belly, and marrow to your bones.  Honor the Lord with your substance, and with the first-fruits of all your increase.  So shall your barns be filled with plenty, and your presses shall burst out with new wine.”  

 When we trust Him, we can be assured that we will not be confused about what to do because He will lead us in the right path.  If our leaders would only stop thinking that they are the wisest persons, and stop believing themselves invincible and all-powerful, acknowledging and fearing GOD for the consequences of their actions, then He will bring health to our bodies (physically and spiritually), and like marrow that produces new blood in our bones and to our circulatory system, GOD will also restore our drive to work willingly and enthusiastically so we can get back to life and live better.

 Then, there is also the matter of giving.  In times of financial difficulties, the challenge to give to GOD and to honor Him with what we have earned, in the proportion He commanded, is difficult to comply with.  But that is a test of faith too.  If indeed we take Him up at His word and give rightly, He promised to always fill our storehouses with plenty and make us always produce new and fresh products, and these will be free from pests and decay.  There will never be a need He will not meet, there will never be a want for what is good in life that He will not grant, if we just give what we have and what we can. Because our agriculture industry then will flourish too, and it might be that our farmers will not go hungry anymore, our produce will be overflowing, and we need not make so much imports to the detriment of our local producers.

 But since no one is an island, and no nation (even an archipelago) operates in a vacuum, we also have to consider our responsibilities to our neighbors too.  We learn in verses 27 to 32: “Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it.  Do not say to your neighbor, Go, and come again, and tomorrow I will give, when you now have it with you.  Do not devise any evil against your neighbor, who lives securely alongside you.  Do not strive with a man without cause, if he has done you no harm.  Do not envy the oppressor, and do not choose any of his ways. For the disobedient person is abomination to the Lord, but His secret is with the righteous.”  

 These passages are applicable individually and even on a global level.  There may not be much we can offer in terms of financial aid because we are always the one being given to, but we can always do good willingly and voluntarily, be justifiably diplomatic and remain firm in our conviction not to cause harm and inconvenience to others.  On this note, I am also reminded about the cultural clash on the wearing of masks.  Many in the western world and those with liberal ideas detest the practice because they believe it is a mark of subservience or a violation to their right to free speech and breathing, but in the east, it is a mark of respect for others. As what doctors and health experts say, wearing masks do not protect us from sickness, but it protects others from any sickness we might have that we might unknowingly pass on to them when we speak, and our droplets so joyously spread from our mouths and the microscopic horde of bacteria-and-virus-laden mucus burst out of our nostrils when we exhale. (sound gross, right?) So when you mask up, cover BOTH your nose and mouth.  Have difficulty breathing and speaking? Trust me, we are all in this together.  This is the time for mumbling and difficulties in hearing.  That is why, we must all do our part: even if you are not, just think that you have the virus already, and disinfect obsessively and compulsively, and be religious in mask-wearing, so as not to make other people suffer.

 Truly, we may have forgotten international friendship days, but may we not forget that being a good neighbor starts from one to meters away.  And just as we are religious and full of faith not on our goodness but on the grace of GOD, may we be fitting instruments of His grace and be more gracious to those around us, not only physically, but even virtually and with those who may be separated from us continents away, but always just within a six-degree of separation.

[eng251unvoicedthoughts]

To all the seculars:

Marcus Aurelius, Roman emperor, wrote Meditations, thoughts on stoic philosophy between 161- 180AD. Although this book tends to be more popular amongst seculars than the Bible, the amount of similarities between the two books is unexpected.

“You entered the world as a part, and you will vanish back into that which brought you to birth; or rather, you will be received back into its generative reason through a process of change” (Aurelius 26). This strikes similarity with John: 3 in The Bible when Jesus is speaking to Nicodemus, ruler of the Jews. “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” to which Nicodemus answers, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter the second time into his mother’s womb, and be born?” (p. 1328).

“Rarely is a person seen to be in a bad way because he has failed to attend to what is happening in someone else’s soul, but those who fail to pay careful attention to the motions of their own souls are bound to be in a wretched state” (Aurelius 12). When Jesus is preaching the Sermon on the Mount St. Mathew 7: 3, the same concept is taught, “And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?” (p. 1197).

Another comparison between the two accords can be made regarding Aurelius’s description of Maximus in his last days, “How he behaved to the tax-collector at Tusculum who asked for his forgiveness, and his general conduct in such matters. He was never harsh, or implacable, or overbearing-” (Aurelius 8). This is similar to the forgiveness shown in The Bible when Jesus is giving the parable of the self- righteous pharisee and the humbled publican. Within St Luke 18: 12-14 it reads, “I fast twice in the week I give tithes of all that I possess. And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner” (p. 1308). Both stories hold the emphasized motif of being kind to someone that debt is owed to.

At this point throughout Aurelius’s writings I begin thinking that Meditations, to me, reads as a characterless version of The Bible and in doing so, provides a stripped version of religion down to the basic beliefs of spirituality. Sam Harris, author of Waking Up: A Guide to Spirituality Without Religion explains the taboo structure behind defining or even comparing spirituality to religion, “They don’t always point to the same underlying reality- and when they do, they don’t do it equally well. Nor are all these teachings equally suited for export beyond the cultures that first conceived them… In one sense, all religions and spiritual practices must address the same reality- because people of all faiths have glimpsed many of the same truths” (Harris 20). Harris goes on to explain that the fact that many religions have quoted from or adopted other religion’s beliefs, testifies that human interconnections outweigh the strength of religion. I find the ties between these two blatantly different accounts beautiful and a witness of the similarities between all human hearts and intellect.

 To all the religious Netflix lovers:

Waking Up: A Guide to Spirituality Without Religion by Sam Harris offers the audience methods of meditation to serve as proxy of religion. As the title of the book would suggest, spirituality is brought to the forefront, allowing the reader to delve into their own spirituality while questioning the methods of religion. Referenced in the annotation for Educated: A Memoir, Harris explains the perceived deception that can happen within hierarchies of religion, “A relationship with a guru, or indeed with any expert, tends to run along authoritarian lines. You don’t know what you need to know, and the expert presumably does; that’s why you are sitting in front of him in the first place (Harris 159).

I recently was able to watch a couple episodes of Tiger King. Although I don’t fully understand the hype it’s generated, I couldn’t help but draw comparisons between the show, religion, and spirituality.

The staff working on these cat farms are paid $100 an hour, so other than working with exotic animals, why would they stay?

On Carole Baskin’s farm, she has organized a hierarchy through her employees through the color of shirts they wear. The longer they’ve worked there, the higher ranking of shirt they’re given, and the more attention received from Carole Baskin. This reminded me of the levels of priesthood within the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Similar levels are given to the young women within the church as they progress through their teenage years. By being recognized through these levels, people are more likely to stay in particular organizations or cults.

Another element that stood out was the admittance to luring in those that only have that job as their last resort. They are in desperate need financially, emotionally or both. How many religious members are using their beliefs or their religious community as a refuge from what they’re dealing with and sometimes, because of this, refuse to believe anything else?

Within Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations, it reads, “Let this saying of Epicurus come to your aid, that ‘pain is neither unendurable nor everlasting, if you keep its limits in mind and do not add to it through your own imagination’. And remember this too, that many disagreeable feelings are really just the same as pain although we do not perceive them to be so-” (Aurelius 67). Harris writes about pain and the customary quality of pain being perceived as negative until it is suddenly associated to growth, such as after a workout. Harris goes on to write about the emotional difference it would make if people regularly associated all pain with progression.

One of Joe Exotic’s employees ends up losing their arm due to a tiger attack. Although her arm ends up needing to be amputated, she jumps right back into work after her surgery. She did this so that Joe Exotic’s business wouldn’t face the repercussions of her injury. How many times do people subconsciously force themselves to believe in a prayer or a blessing given to them because brief disappointment is better than no longer having something to believe in?

 To all members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints:

Within Educated: A Memoir by Tara Westover, Westover outlines some of her earliest memories growing up in Idaho as a Latter-Day-Saint. Emphasis is placed on the eccentrics of her family due to a self-inflicted sheltered life and unconventional religious views. Although Westover disclaims her experiences to have any affiliation with the church itself, being a Mormon that grew up in rural Idaho as well, I recognized similarities between our lives that should be addressed. To preface these similarities, I’ll first shed some light on the parallels that can be drawn between Waking Up: A Guide to Spirituality Without Religion by Sam Harris and Educated: A Memoir. Harris unveils an authoritative manipulation approach within religion. The “self-deception” and “exploited trust” one is susceptible to when being taught by a spiritual teacher can be due merely to the setup of them being the intellectual superior in that given situation. “The bishop and I met every Sunday until that spring. To me he was a patriarch with authority over me, but he seemed to surrender that authority the moment I passed through his door” (Westover 200). Although Westover paints her bishop in a more forgiving light, the fact that he had authority over her is not shied away from, it is written barefaced to help explain the gaping hierarchy. The hierarchy within the Bishop’s office followed her into her own home. Westover was abused mentally and physically by her older brother and mentally by her father. Nobody within the household would stand up to either male figure, even Westover’s mother was described many times to back down to the will of her father due to it being “a man’s house”. Although my family is very loving now and I am very fortunate, my household was once abusive as well, leaving my mother, my two older brothers, and me running from my father, staying with different friends of my mother’s to avoid my father finding us.  Maybe this is a coincidence and has nothing to do with the religion of my father, but I’ve always wondered if the hierarchy of males within the Mormon church has swayed the treatment of the women. Westover explains some of the teachings within the Latter-Day Saint church, “As a child I’d been taught-by my father but also in Sunday school that in the fullness of time God would restore polygamy, and in the afterlife, I would be a plural wife” (Westover 245). I, as well as most women within the church I’m sure, have always taken issue with this. Once, my sophomore year of college I asked my Bishop if it were reversed, and the men were told that in heaven they would be plural husbands to their wives, if he would still believe in the faith, to which he replied along the lines of, “Yes, if that were God’s will”. If the doctrine were changed, I honestly don’t see as many men being members of the church and I also don’t think sexism- against women, would be as prevalent. Harris writes of the account of Tibetan lama Chogyam Trungpa where he orders a young girl to be stripped of her clothing and paraded around. While this is sexual assault, Harris writes that Trungpa’s followers viewed this occurrence as “a spiritual teaching meant to subdue their egos” (Harris 160). Within The Last Podcast On the Left with Ben Kissel, Henry Zebrowski, and Marcus Parks also tackle a time when Latter-Day Saint prophet, Joseph Smith safeguarded his way through illegal, degrading actions. According to their findings, Joseph had an affair on his wife and was caught doing so, before announcing his revelation for polygamy. However, members of the Latter-Day Saint faith are told his reasons for polygamy were to ensure celestial glories for the women of that time since there were more women than men and the women would need to be sealed. How many other teachings of the church have subtly quieted women into uncomfortable acceptance? If not careful, will certain hierarchies within religions translate to feelings of superiority within the home?

Sources:

Aurelius, Marcus, et al. Meditations: Oxford University Press, 2011.

Bible: King James Version. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, 1979.

Harris, Sam. Waking up: a Guide to Spirituality without Religion. Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2015.

Kissel, Ben, et al. “Episode 378: Mormonism Part I - When You're Here You're Family.” Castbox, The Last Podcast on the Left, 2019, castbox.fm/episode/Episode-378%3A-Mormonism-Part-I---When-You%E2%80%99re-Here-You%E2%80%99re-Family-id1383024-id177828673.

Westover, Tara. Educated: a Memoir. Random House, 2018.