#Ultimately Chris ends up finding peace and a home | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daydreamerdrew · 7 months ago

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Comics read this past week:

Marvel Comics:

Captain America (2017) #695-700

These issues were published across November 2017 to April 2018, according to the Marvel Wiki. All were written by Mark Waid, drawn by Chris Samnee, and colored by Matthew Wilson.

Issues #695-697 were all stand-alone stories, part of an arc called “Home of the Brave,” as Steve was road-tripping through the United States in search of a new place to settle down. He explains this in issue #696 as, “I’m tired of being a couch-surfer. I haven’t had my own place in years that wasn’t subsidized by S.H.I.E.L.D. or Tony Stark or whoever before all that went away. Which always tied me to the New York area.”

I found the Captain America event in issue #695 endearing. And I liked Steve’s ethos of “The strong protect the weak,” told to a child at one point as “You have to protect Jacob. [..] Because he’s smaller than you.” I was surprised by the depiction, in a flashback to back when Steve had only recently been unfrozen, that Captain America had been largely forgotten and people didn’t recognize him. I’ve elsewhere seen it portrayed that he was remembered as an important historical figure and him being discovered to still be alive was a big deal. In issue #696, when Steve’s encouraged to take steps to prevent being recognized so that he’s not bombarded by fans and reporters wherever he goes, he says, “It’s not something I give a lot of thought to, to be honest.” Steve’s relationship to media attention is something I find really interesting. This portrayal is simple, but it works for the character. Also, I liked how casual he was at the end of the issue about saving a town. And I enjoyed the opening scene of issue #697, where Steve is casually chatting with a woman in a bar.

Issue #698 is where things really kicked off for me as a reader, with the storyline “Out of Time,” which went from there to issue #700. In this story Steve is frozen in ice once again, only to be woken up in a dystopic America where almost all of the heroes he knew are dead. In issue #698 Steve learns about this new America he’s found himself in, and resolves to “take our country back.” Issue #699 is that overthrow of the corrupt elite. And then in issue #700 Steve struggles to rebuild America from there.

In issue #698 Steve says to Liang, the character who becomes his primary ally in this dystopian future, “‘Doesn’t it destroy you to find out your life’s work left no impact?’ Is that your question? Because I’m trying not to think about it. Right now, I have a job to do.”

In issue #699 she says, “I know you wish you were back home.” He responds, “‘Home’ is wherever my country needs me, Liang. But yes, I do. Still, I’ve made this sort of leap across time before. And like the last one… I need to make peace with the fact that it’s probably a one-way trip.”

Issue #700 is where things got emotional for me. 80 days into building “New America,” Steve is offered a way to go back in time for prevent the apocalypse from ever happening, which he turns down. He explains, “What if all that does is create an alternate timeline? How would that fix the here and now? Or what if I go back in time and somehow fail? That takes me off the board altogether, and then how many more of us die?” At this point in time Steve ultimately believes that, “Your reality is theoretical. Mine is concrete. Real lives versus hypotheticals. […] I can’t abandon this fight. I promised to make this right, and I can.”

But it’s not easy, and 349 days in they suffer a crushing blow, which causes Steve to have a change of heart. He dismisses his earlier mentality as “over-confident” and says he should, “think, not just act. I’ve been ordering my men not to waste energy dying on every hill, but that’s the problem- I don’t know how to stop. I never did.” He says, “Hope is not a plan,” which is called, “the least Captain America thing I ever heard.” And he says that at this point he can either give or accept the Hail Mary, and “I don’t know how to give up.”

Steve is sent back to right when he was frozen in ice, and right before the nuclear bombs were launched. He quickly attacks the villain’s base, but the bombs were still activated. It takes Steve sacrificing himself, with only seconds to spare, to save the world. His final words were him accepting, “I don’t know how to stop. I never did. Hope is not a plan. But you sure as hell can’t win without it.” I had already thought that the way Chris Samnee drew Steve going back in time was beautiful, but the way he drew Steve burning up to parallel that was so impactful. This Steve dies, but the frozen Steve is broken out of the ice by the explosion. And he goes on with his life having no idea about his other self’s sacrifice or experiences in the future. He does happen to come across Liang, but the meeting has no emotional significance to either of them.

The Avengers (1963) #39

This issue was published in February 1967, according to the Marvel Wiki. It was written by Roy Thomas, penciled by Don Heck, and inked by George Roussos.

In previous issues Hank was particularly suspicious of Natasha. In issue #38 he voiced that he wouldn’t stand for her being allowed to officially join the Avengers. She’d been hanging around for a while as Clint’s girlfriend. But Natasha, who’d previously expressed that she wanted to be an official Avenger, shocked them all by announcing that she was breaking up with Clint and leaving the country. She’d been recruited by Nick Fury for a spy mission and was specifically asked to not tell anyone the truth about what she was doing. She’d hoped that by hurting Clint’s feelings she’s stop him from following her, which would endanger him. Hank surprised me during this by saying, “There must be more to this than meets the eye! I may not be a charter member of your fan club, Widow- But I had never figured you for sellin’ out,” before accepting that she was probably telling the truth about her intentions.

In this issue it’s public knowledge that Natasha betrayed the country, and Hank surprised me again by not believing it, saying that, “there’s some reason for her acts! There must be!” The rest of the Avengers are skeptical, too, but Hank seems to me to be the most vocal one. Clint is the exception. He actually left the scene before this conversation, and when he speaks elsewhere on his own he’s expresses that he’s plotting to find Natasha, “Then, maybe- just maybe- I can talk some sense into her- Before it’s too late!”

There’s also a scene at S.H.I.E.L.D. with Nick Fury, Dum Dum Dugan, and Jasper Sitwell. Jasper questions, “But, Colonel- Are you positive she can be trusted?” Nick Fury responds, “We got no choice, Sitwell! We gotta trust her!” This is of particular interest to me because I’m already interested in Natasha and Nick’s relationship, and I like Jasper and it’s stated in Winter Soldier (2012) that Natasha particularly got along well with him.

DC Comics:

Batman (2016) #25-32

These issues were published across June 2017 to October 2017 according to the Grand Comics Database. I’m continuing working through rereading Tom King’s Batman run.

Issues #25-26 and #28-29 and #31-32 were “The War of Jokes and Riddles” storyline. All were drawn by Mikel Janín, except that Hugo Petrus also worked on the inking of issue #29. All were colored by June Chung. Issues #27 and #30 were ‘interlude’ stories, though still strongly related, titled “The Ballad of Kite-Man.” Both were penciled by Clay Mann. Issue #27 was inked by Danny Miki, John Livesay, and Clay Mann, and was colored by Gabe Eltaeb. And issue #30 was inked by Seth Mann, and was colored by Jordie Bellaire.

I remember not liking this arc the first time I read the book. It worked better for me this time, but I think that’s partially because there’s been a little bit of time since I read the first 24 issues of this book. Those first four storylines and what they meant for Bruce’s character were of more interest to me, but this time there was more distance for me as a reader from that more intriguing storytelling.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight (1989) #16-20

These issues were published across February 1991 to June 1991, according to the Grand Comics Database. All were written by Denny O’Neil. The layouts of all of the issues were drawn by Trevor Von Eeden, which were finished by Russ Braun, and then inked by José Luis García-López. This was the “Venom�� storyline, in which Bruce became addicted to and then recovered from an early version of the villain Bane’s fictional drug.

I wasn’t really that into this one. I’ll note that the previous storylines in this book have each followed chronologically near the start of Bruce’s career as Batman, including as part of the stories the creation of the Batcave, the Batmobile, ect. This arc is the first departure from that. Nothing indicates that this story takes place towards the beginning of Bruce’s career as Batman, and also the opening narration of the first issue refers to the story as being reflected upon from the future.

Action Comics (2016) #1064

This issue was published this month, April 2024. It was written by Joshua Williamson, drawn by Rafa Sandoval, and colored by Alejandro Sánchez.

I pretty much said everything I wanted to say about this issue here.

#comics read this past week #my posts

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mojwisungie · 3 years ago

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— love songs that reminds them of you

request: from none — n/a genre: fluff ! a/n: these songs are on my love playlist, hope you enjoy ･ᴗ･

✩ Mark – Best Part (H.E.R. ft. Daniel Caesar) For the past years, he’s been living his life fast. Moving from Canada to Korea, training during his younger years, debuting in different groups— it might be something that happens in films, but for him it's the real deal. His busy life never seemed to stop until he met you, the one who gives him the sweetest warmth he never felt before and makes his life a little bit slower. With you in his life, it is indeed a movie— and you're the best part.

✩ Renjun – How's Your Night (J_ust) Nights are spent sleeping early, but when you came into his life- it changed. It's past 11 pm, he's lying down on his bed and he can't seem to fall asleep no matter what he does. Every night, he's occupied— thinking of you. It dawns on him that spending comfortable time on bed at the dorms isn't the same as sitting on a bench with you at the park, with your hair flowing with the breeze and the sun shining down on your beauty. He wants to know if you're feeling the same, he wants to talk to you to assure himself. He misses you, he realizes. Without wasting anymore moment, he calls you up and tells you why aren't you sleeping yet— followed by a soft, "how's your night, love?"

✩ Jeno – At My Worst (Pink Sweat$) He has received so much love throughout his life, mostly because of his personality shown to the public. His sweet eye smile and soft voice are often mentioned on why he's liked, and so he would often wonder whether he'll find someone who'll look beyond his outer shell— and then he found you. At first he hesitated, because would it be better if he won't risk your friendship and not be lovers? He doesn't know how, but at some point he took the risk— and he doesn't regret anything. You are more than his lover and friend, as you became his treasure and peace. With you, he finally found someone who loves him at his best, and more at his worst.

✩ Haechan – Still Into You (Ashley Tisdale ft. Chris French) It's been long since you've been there for him, to the point that he knows you like the back of his hand. The time you've spent together as friends and partners had ups and downs, yet you two stood against all odds. In fact, here he is now: trying to count the many years that you've been together on one hand, and holding yours with the other. There are many evidence to prove how strong your relationship has been, but he can't believe that someone as perfect as you is with him. Words cannot describe what his thoughts really are, but to reduce what his verdict is, he tells you that some things just make sense like you and him. Ultimately, time won't change what he feels about you because after all this time, he's still into you.

✩ Jaemin – Can This Morning Never End (Davin Kingston) Every week, he looks forward to only one thing: waking up with you on a Sunday morning. You take up most of the bed, but he doesn't mind, because to him, nothing compares to seeing you peacefully sleeping as you're his favorite view. His attempts on waking you up fails, and yet he feels like he succeeded since he witnesses you smile in your sleep when he whispers your name. As you wake up, things become the opposite as he doesn't ever wanna leave the comfort of the bed with you in it, telling you to cancel plans you two have made. You agree with him with a small nod and a smile, lying down again to feel the warmth of his arms that you call home. He lips turn to give your forehead a kiss, as he quietly asks the universe, "can this morning never end?"

✩ Chenle – Paris in the Rain (Lauv) Ever since he was a child, he has gone to many places for different things. Now that he's older, there's only one thing that could make a trip memorable— it's being with you. He's been to numerous locations, but nothing beats the feeling of having you enjoy the time with him. You two could be eating ice cream in a local convenience store, or getting lost under the stars at midnight, but he'd never ask for anything more. Your presence feels like love, and he would always choose love. He looks at you often and thinks, he wants this forever. No matter where you two are, he wouldn't change anything, cause anywhere with feels like Paris in the rain.

✩ Jisung – SoulMate (Zico ft. Lauv)

For most of his life, he only had his members. It's true when they some say they're his kindred spirits, but during his moments alone, he wonders if there's someone out there for him, and it's you. Slowly, everything reminded him of you, even the smallest of things he sees while he's away. He makes sure to spend his free days being stuck with you— laying on the big sofa, playing on his switch and feeding each other ice cream. He still gets reality checks every now and then, as fights are inevitable in your relationship. They get resolved right away, and this proves him right when he thinks that nothing can come between the two of you. Different lives merging into one heck of a ride, but he won't let you leave this place, not even for a moment, because he knows he has finally found you— his soulmate.

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stripper-patrick · 4 years ago

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Speak to me 🤫 Chris Evans

Warnings: smut, language, daddy kink, straight up nastiness, choking, reverse cowgirl, spanking, dirty talk, silent treatment, dom!Chris, eating cat from da back, heel fetish, daddy kink

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl

Relationship: Chris Evans x black plus sized reader

“Hello” Chris pulls out his iPhone answering the incoming call “hey Scott what’s up” I’m laying on the bed on my phone when I perk up hearing Chris say “yea I’m free” this bastard

“No the hell you aren’t” I sit up crossing my legs

“Yea that sounds great I’ll meet you there” he looks at me, my face is painted with anger and frustration. I’ve been trying to plan this dinner with him at this new restaurant called Yard House but they’ve been booked since they first opened. Now tonight when I finally get us a reservation he makes plans with his brother. He got me fucked up.

Chris hangs up and I turn my head waiting for an explanation “honey I’m sorry but it’s Scott”

“Are you deadass? I told you I couldn’t get ahold of this restaurant for weeks and the second I make us a reservation you go and agree to plans with your brother” I’m furious at the moment “you know what go head”

“Y/N”

“Go” I yell. He sighs rubbing his eyes as I turn around going back on my phone. Chris leaves the room and I groan. I proceed to the shower turning it on rolling my eyes. The hot water runs down my back ultimately giving me time to think.

....

I’m woken up to the front door opening and shutting. I grab my phone seeing the picture of Chris flash on my lock screen and the time reads back 4am. I have 4 messages and 5 phone calls all from him. The door opens and I can see the tall figure moving around shimmying off his clothes.

“Hey babe” I roll my eyes turning on my stomach clutching the pillow. I hear a deep sigh come from Chris’ mouth “baby girl I’m sorry I know how important that dinner was to you” He slides in the bed next to me and his hand rests on my butt but I’m quick to move it “don’t touch me” I scoot closer to the edge closing my eyes hearing one last sigh before I drift to sleep.

....

The sun bleeds into the room brightening it up causing me to open my eyes. I get up and go to the bathroom doing my business and completing my morning facial routine. Washing my face, moisturizer, and toner. I walk out the bathroom and slip into some leggings, and a low cut crop top. I have a nail appointment today and I’m debating on making him pay just for fucking with me but I can’t allow myself to do that.

I step out of the room, the bright sun illuminating the hallway and I descend downstairs where I smell bacon and waffles cooking. I go into the kitchen crossing my arms watching him put strawberries in the batter. My favorite.

“Morning princess” I mumble sitting at the island and he sets a plate in front of me. His pretty blue eyes bore into mine just silently begging me to say something

“I’m sorry how many times do I have to say it?” He asks. I cut up my waffles and pour syrup on them without even glancing his way. I know this is torturing him. To go from talking and laughing one day to not speaking at all is destroying him especially when we live in the same household. I take a bite of the warm breakfast almost moaning at the taste. Damn he put his foot in these. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Nails” I huff

“Ah I’m going with you”

“No you’re not”

“I am and I’m paying for them and while we’re at it we can go to the mall” I roll my eyes and he smirks sitting next to me digging into his plate “what will it take for you to speak to me baby doll. I’ll do anything” a smirk appears on my lips but I keep quiet.

“You know what fine” the rest of the breakfast is filled with silence and he takes my plate cleaning it.

I sit on the couch flipping through channels as Chris disappears upstairs. Finally some peace and quiet. The tv gets boring so I turn it off and go on my phone. After about 20 minutes of scrolling I look at the time seeing I should bust a move if I wanna make it to the nail salon on time.

I stand up and walk to the door leaving. I get into my car turning on the air immediately. Chris jogs out and opens the driver door “what are you doing?” I question

“Get out”

“I don’t have time for this I’m gonna be late then I have to pay a late fee”

“Get. Out” I huff taking off my seatbelt and getting out the car. Chris gets in the drivers seat and nudges too the passenger seat “you aren’t going with me”

“Y/N I won’t tell you again” his deep voice sends a heartbeat to my core but I can’t fold like this. I groan stomping to the passenger side. He gets out opening the door for me and I swing my legs inside as he shuts it. Chris gets back in the drivers seat and putting his seatbelt on before pulling off.

...

After getting my NAILS done we ended up at the mall but I still haven’t said one word to him. I’ve kept to myself and haven’t touched him or even looked his way. This may seem extensive but he needs to understand that I deserve some time with him as well. “Babydoll lets go in here” swinging his bags in his hand he takes me in the Louis Vuitton store. I set my eyes on this beautiful bag and I see some shoes I adore.

“I’m gonna step out real fast here” he hands me his credit card and I snatch it. I’ll teach his ass a lesson. I grab the bag and the shoes in my size taking them to the register. I use his card to pay for the stuff then head across the way to Prada where I find another gorgeous purse. I grab that but I don’t see anything else I want so I just check that out. The next store I walk to is Dior where I see some cute blue and orange slides and a beautiful gold necklace. The problem is it’s 2,000 dollars and I’ve already spent at least a grand. I think about Chris and he would be somewhat upset but I’m upset at the moment so he’ll be fine.

I grab the necklace and shoes taking them to the register. I use his card and the transaction completes. The woman hands me my bags and I smile thanking her. I walk out of the store and see Chris coming back. Poker face is on.

“I got a call from the bank saying my card was nearly shut off because they thought someone stole it. You spent about 10 grand”

“Oops” I stand up and he takes all my bags from me.

“It’s time to go let’s go” I stand my ground folding my arms again

“I wanna keep shopping”

“Any other day would’ve been a smooth yes, anything to get you to talk to me but today is not the day. Let’s. Go” he says sternly

“No” Chris adjusts the bags on his arms and grabs me by my arm pulling me along outside. I let my arm go once we get in the car. He sets the bags in the trunk and I get in.

....

We get home and I walk through the double doors. He sets the bags in the living room and I go upstairs not allowing another word to be said. I strip down bare and get under the navy blue fitted sheets and comforter taking a deep breath before I feel myself drift to sleep.

...

I hear feet shuffling into the room and I see Chris dressed in a fitted black button, dark jeans, and Stacey Adams paired with a gold bracelet and a watch on his wrist. I notice he decorated my choker.

“princess” I’m still mad at him for last night and haven’t talked to him the whole day. I groan pushing my arms above my head stretching my limbs before swinging my legs off the bed letting them dangle. “Y/N get dressed and ready” he speaks again this time more stern. I’ll admit it turned me on. I stare at him and huff “Do you really wanna test my patience darling? Get dressed now”

“I’m not going anywhere with you” I cross my arms in a fit of rage breaking my silent streak and turn away from him. Chris wraps his hand around the back of my neck with a smirk. A smile spreads across my face “did it sound like I was asking? I’ve had enough of your bratty ass today”

I roll my eyes earning a slap to my ass “don’t roll your eyes at me just do as I say” I go into the closet figuring out what to wear. The wet spot in my panties has me tempted to take them off and go commando today in the warm autumn air. Temptation gets the best of me and I pull them off grabbing a short DRESS and some HEELS. I grab a jacket just in case it’s cold wherever we’re going. “Christopher where are we going”

“Don’t worry about it” he looks up at me and his jaw drops when he sees my dress. I sit at my vanity and start on a simple makeup look not really wanting to get too much into it tonight. I keep my curls the way they are as I finish everything.

“Ready?”

“Mhmm” I follow Chris hearing him sigh. I walk downstairs and he extends his arm helping me downstairs. I walk past him into the car in the passenger seat where I just sit. At this point I’m completely over the situation but he needs to learn his lesson. Chris gets in and starts the car and I look at him “where are we going”

He ignores me and I roll my eyes huffing. He sets his hand on my thigh and I leave it there. His hand creeps higher but that’s when I stop him “if you think you can get any of this tonight you got me fucked up”

“We’ll see about that”

....

Chris makes a right and I see the restaurant. I’m very confused as to why we’re here. He pulls into a parking spot and gets out. Chris opens the door for me and at this point I’m curious as to what he’s got going on. I see a long ass line of people waiting outside.

“I’m not interested in waiting in line”

“That’s a good thing you don’t have to” he shuts and locks the car door walking up with me. We walk through the doors and immediately the host recognizes him “Mr. Evans right this way”

We walk through the crowd of people into our own little section with a dim light and a table for 2. “How did you do this?”

“I bought it. Now can you stop being mad at me it’s torturing”

“Maybe” he pulls out my chair for me and I sit watching him the seat in front of me.

“I’m sorry babydoll I was inconsiderate to how much effort you put into getting us a reservation” he says

“Truth he told I stopped being mad after I ran up your card but I kept my poker face”

“Well you’re pretty damn good at it” the waitress comes over and is star struck at the Chris Evans sitting right in front of her.

“Hello my name is Tiara what can I get you guys started off with?”

“Lemme get a coors and” he looks at me “a white wine?” I nod and she writes it down flashing him a big smile before leaving to put in our drinks. “Clearly you have a fan”

“I see but she’s not important right now. You are and if you think you can pull some shit on me like that again you’ve clearly got me fucked up”

“Oohhh the spicy white is coming out. I like it” the waitress comes back with our drinks and we order the food.

....

We’ve finished dinner and Chris pays the bill. The waitress is standing there and I’ve noticed her shirt is undone a little more than usual as in I can see her purple lace bra and I know Chris can see it too.

He fishes out a 20 from his pocket handing it to her and I watch her slip it in her bra. My jaw drops as she winks at him completely stepping over boundaries.

“Excuse me” she averts her attention to me and I’m start to shake. That’s how mad I am. “Try that shit again with my man and I promise you’ll be missing a couple teeth and a job”

Her eyes go wide and she leaves without saying anything else. Chris has his bottom lip tucked in between his perfect teeth with a smirk pulled against his lips.

“You’re so sexy when you’re mad”

“Yea whatever” I shake my head

“Do me a favor” I listen waiting for his request “take off your panties”

“It’s funny that you think I’m wearing any” his blue eyes turn dark as he nods

“That ass is mine” he laughs. The waitress comes back with a small white cake. Nothing special written on it or anything. I spin it around trying to find something then I look at Chris who had a cheeky smile on his face.

“Cut into it” I grab a knife and cut into the cake revealing a blue matte box. I look at him and grab the box opening it. I see a beautiful ring and engraved inside of the box is: ‘Will You Marry Me?’ A flood of emotions drowns me and now I’m sitting here crying.

“Stop playing Christopher” I say

“Y/N I want you to make me the happiest man alive” he takes the ring and slides it on my finger

“Is this why you left me today?” He nods smiling

“I can’t see myself without you” he whispers “so what do you say?”

“Yes yes yes a thousand times yes” I hug him and he holds me tight as more tears fall. I give him a nice kiss and he smiles holding me closer.

....

As soon as we hit the front door Chris’ hands are all over me. I open the door and he shuts it sliding my dress off my body to reveal I’m completely naked just as I said. I go to take off my heels but he stops me “leave them”

Chris picks me up with ease and something in the moment just told me to let him pick me up. In the year and a half we’ve been together I’ve never let him pick me up because of my size but tonight is different.

He takes me upstairs to our shared bedroom where he lays me down “I’m going to ruin you for what you put me through today”

I smile and he turns me around face down ass up “clearly you’re enjoying it more than I thought” he collects my wetness on the tip of his finger trailing it up to my clit rubbing torturously slow. I feel his large hands part my ass and his beard scratches me. I drop my face into the mattress feeling his tongue work inside of me while his fingers massage my clit. My arms stretch back and I pull on my heels holding my legs up and arching my back more. I hear Chris moan at my current position. I don’t know how much loner I can do this position cause I’m a big bitch and this shit hurts.

He stops eating me out and I hear his pants unzip then drop “keep that position baby doll” He pumps his dick and I feel his head push inside of me with ease. He fits the rest of his cock inside of me and replaces my hands on my heels with his. My hands extend above my head as he starts pounding me out making my body rock back and forth. My hands have a mind of their own gripping the sheets.

“You like that you little slut?” He spanks me and I cry out biting my lip “you’ve been such a bad girl” he keeps a tight grip on my hips holding me in place. I couldn’t run even if I really wanted to.

“Fuck daddy it’s too much” he chuckles maniacally

“Nah you keep playing with me” Chris pushes my back into a crazy arch pushing a little more of his weight on my butt. He continues pounding on me until my body is seizing and I’m crying out his name.

“That’s it you’re gonna be a mess by the time I’m finished with you” he moans still thrusting in me. He stops and pulls out leaving me empty and my cum dripping on my thighs.

“Ride me reverse” he lays next to me placing his hands behind his head and I grab his dick and swing my legs over his thick body. I guide him inside of me placing my hands on his calves bouncing my ass.

“Fuck” I moan. He smacks my behind and keeps a firm grip on my hips guiding me harder and faster. Chris wastes no time taking control pounding into me from below. His balls are slapping against my ass while he holds my wailing arms behind me keeping them steady. My jaw drops as he growls in an animalistic form. My breasts bounce as he continues torturing me.

“You’ve been a bad girl babydoll and I don’t appreciate it” he moans. I can see his piercing blue eyes through my hazy vision. I’m still sensitive from my last orgasm so I’m close already.

“Fuck daddy you’re gonna make me cum” I scream. My legs press together not sure whether to try to get away or sink further onto him.

He keeps going and just as I’m about to release Chris stops pumping altogether. He lifts me up putting me back on my hands and knees.

Chris enters me again but this time he grabs my hair pulls my back against his chest. Once he has me where he wants me, he envelops his hand around my throat squeezing the sides constricting air. He wraps his free arm around my breasts as he starts his fast rhythmic thrusting again. His moans are prominent in my ear as his hand on my breasts drop to my clit.

At this point I’m seeing stars and my moans are uncontrollable. My body trembles from being rocked into with each powerful thrust. My shaky hands hold onto his wrist leading to my clit as he kisses my cheek, shoulder, and neck. “You look like such a pretty slut taking my dick like this”

“Cum in me please” I beg. He lets go of my throat and grabs his belt nearby tying it around my hands. My hands are bound behind my back as he uses my arms to hold me as I’m leaned forward taking his dick.

“Cum with me Y/N I feel how close you are babydoll” he was right. I’m right on the edge when he gives me a good slap to my behind making my legs clamp together shaking tremendously. His name is all that I can call out making me see stars. “That’s my good girl oh shit” he lets out a string of curses and I feel my walls being painted in his children as he continues assaulting me in the best way possible.

Our juices collect around the base of his dick dripping on the sheets. As I drop my head completely spun. Chris extracts every drop inside of me before pulling out. He lays beside me with a smirk on his face pulling his belt off my hands “where the fuck did you learn how to tie me up with a belt”

“You’d be surprised what the Internet can teach you” he says “please don’t ignore me again” he lays on my bare chest

“Well don’t do any stupid shit again” I smile taking my fingers through his hair

#smut #fluff #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans and black girls #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine

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thecoleopterawithana · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there! Just discovered your blog and I love it. I appreciate your in-depth analyses. But I have a question: I saw in a previous post that you think the line "I'm in love with a friend of mine," from "Dear Friend," is Paul saying he loves John. But, couldn't this line apply to Linda? It seems to me Paul could be telling John either, "Let it go, you know I'm in love with you," or "Let it go, you know I'm in love with Linda." What do you think? I'd love the line to be for John of course. Thanks!

Hey there, dear anon! I’m so happy you’re having fun with the blog and my sporadic thoughts!

Ah, yes! The famous conundrum: who is the friend Paul’s in love with?

I want to start off by making it clear that I have no doubt in my mind that Paul was in love with Linda.

In the same way, I don’t see it as too far fetched to think that Paul was in love with John. They both used it to describe their relation often enough.

The question, as always, is what exactly Paul means and what we mean when using the term.

So the third point I’d like to make is that Paul being in love with John doesn’t necessarily entail him wanting to kiss him or be a typical romantic couple. It’s possible that this is simply the best term they found to describe the level of intensity and infatuation present in their relationship; how fascinated they were with each other, how interested in spending time together. Of course, we as a culture are very hung-up on the physical manifestations of these feelings, and often use this small constituent of very complex dynamics to categorize them into platonic, romantic, sexual, etc. But I think I’ve harped on enough about the illusion, limitation, and importance of language/concepts/categories in the previous post you referred to.

By all of this I just mean to say that maybe we shouldn’t decide who the line is about based on how plausible it would be for Paul to use “in love” in reference to John Lennon, as there are more instances him doing exactly so.

So, assuming that Paul is just as likely to use “in love” to refer to his relationship with Linda as to his relationship with John, let’s see what he says about the song:

“Dear Friend” was written about John, yes. I don’t like grief and arguments, they always bug me. Life is too precious, although we often find ourselves guilty of doing it. So after John had slagged me off in public I had to think of a response, and it was either going to be to slag him off in public — and some instinct stopped me, which I’m really glad about — or do something else. So I worked on my attitude and wrote “Dear Friend”, saying, in effect, let’s lay the guns down, let’s hang up our boxing gloves.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed for Club Sandwich (1994).

Dear Friend was to do with John, a bit of longing about John. Let’s have a glass of wine and forget about it. A making up song.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Paul Du Noyer for Mojo (July 2001).

[Dear Friend] was written for John, to John. It was like a letter. With the business pressures of the Beatles breaking up it’s like a marriage. One minute you’re in love, the next minute you hate each other’s guts. It’s a pity, because it’s very difficult to cut through all that. So you do what we all seemed to do, which was write it in songs. I wrote “Dear Friend” as a kind of peace gesture.

— Paul McCartney, in Bill Harry's The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia (2002).

And then with ‘Dear Friend’, that’s sort of me talking to John after we’d had all the sort of disputes about The Beatles break up. I find it very emotional when I listen to it now. I have to sort of choke it back. I’m not going to cry in front of all you lot though! […] But, for me, it is a bit like that. I remember when I heard the song recently, listening to the roughs [remastering works-in-progress] in the car. And I thought, ‘Oh God’. That lyric: ‘Really truly, young and newly wed’. Listening to that was like, ‘Oh my God, it’s true!’ I’m trying to say to John, ‘Look, you know, it’s all cool. Have a glass of wine. Let’s be cool.’ And luckily we did get it back together, which was like a great source of joy because it would have been terrible if he’d been killed as things were at that point and I’d never got to straighten it out with him. This was me reaching out. So, I think it’s very powerful in some very simple way. But it was certainly heartfelt.”

— Paul McCartney, You Gave Me The Answer - ‘Wild Life’ Special (29 October 2018).

So, starting by stating the obvious, Paul has made it clear that the ‘dear friend’ the song is addressed to is John. Now, is the ‘friend of mine’ a different subject or the same?

Conveniently, because they continue to mirror each other, both Paul and John are ‘really truly, young and newly wed.’ So the whole phrasing of the song is exactly the sort of “very non-specific way to say it” that Paul prefers.

Though, in 2018, Paul comments precisely on this line: “I find it very emotional when I listen to it now. [...] And I thought, ‘Oh God’. That lyric: ‘Really truly, young and newly wed’. Listening to that was like, ‘Oh my God, it’s true!’”

It’s worth to consider the context of the whole verse, as that specific lyric is the end of a sentence: ‘Dear friend, throw the wine, I'm in love with a friend of mine, really truly, young and newly wed.’

Paul tells us that this phrase in particular gets him choked up, but also almost awed in realization. I personally don’t feel like this kind of surprised amazement would be elicited by acknowledging that it’s him and Linda that were ‘in love’ and ‘really truly, young and newly wed’, unless out of a sense of nostalgia.

But the thing is, Paul doesn’t bring up Linda or Yoko or their respective marriages even once while discussing the song. If the point he’s trying to make is, ‘Look, I’m in love with Linda, you’re with Yoko, why are we fighting?’, why would he never bring them up while discussing the song? Or state something to the effect of “We are individuals— all different. John married Yoko, I married Linda. We didn't marry the same girl.” (Which he did say in the autumn of 1969, to Life magazine.)

In actuality, he only mentions his metaphorical matrimony to John, and how “one minute you’re in love, the next minute you hate each other’s guts.” So, when discussing a song written to, for and about his ‘dear friend’ John, in which he declares he’s ‘in love with a friend’ of his, Paul explains how it’s like they’d been “in love” with each other.

I think we might be making this needlessly complicated by bringing in his love for Linda, and so would like to invoque the law of parsimony.

But then, what does he mean?

Paul makes it abundantly clear that the ultimate goal of this ‘letter’ is an attempt at reconciliation, “a kind of peace gesture”, “let’s be cool”, “let’s lay the guns down, let’s hang up our boxing gloves”. It’s a “making up song.”

It pays to point out that while Dear Friend was first recorded at the beginning of the Wild Life sessions, on 24 July 1971, the demo tapes date back to a year prior, estimated to have been made at home in 1970. So it’s unlikely it was a response to How Do You Sleep?, recorded on 26 May 1971, and released on 9 September 1971. So Paul seems to be answering some other slagging off in public that John did.

But let’s look at the song:

Dear friend, what's the time? Is this really the borderline? Does it really mean so much to you?

Are you afraid, or is it true?

Dear friend, throw the wine I'm in love with a friend of mine Really truly, young and newly wed

Are you a fool, or is it true?

Are you afraid, or is it true?

The first line seems to be pretty self-explanatory, with the same sentiment Paul expressed in 1994, that “life is too precious”; after all, ‘Life is very short, and there's no time for fussing and fighting, my friend.’

In the second line, the question could mean, ‘Is this really where we’re at? Is this where we ended up?’ Or he could be using ‘borderline’ to mean a division, in the sense that he asks ‘Is this really where the line is drawn?’, which could help explain the end of the verse and his bafflement at how hurt John is by having that line crossed.

Now, what might be the action that meant so much to John? What might be Paul pinpointing as the source of John’s hurt? The sources could be multiple. John himself said no one hurt him as much as Paul did, and he was quick to point out Paul’s insensitivity. Paul would later continue to ponder this issue:

I always felt guilty. Always felt guilty. But looking back on it, I keep thinking, okay, let’s try and analyse this. Now John was hurt; what was he hurt by? What was the single biggest thing that we can find in all our research that hurt John? And the biggest thing that I can find is that I told the world that the Beatles were finished. And I don’t think that’s so hurtful. [...] I look at it now and really kind of shudder. At the time it was me trying to answer some questions that were being asked and I decided to not fudge that question. [Note: Where John’s hurt is concerned, Paul may or may not be referring specifically to his answering “Do you foresee a time when Lennon-McCartney becomes an active songwriting partnership again?” with a definitive “No.”] And I say, looking back on it, I don’t think… I mean, if that’s the most hurtful thing I did, I haven’t really heard much else beyond that.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Chris Salewicz for Musician (October 1986).

Of course, there’s nothing to say that Paul would be aware of all of this back in 1970. So we may never know what hurt Paul was referring to, if any. Remember this is just my present personal interpretation; which can be completely incorrect.

Now comes the part which I consider the most mysterious in the entire song: ‘Are you afraid, or is it true?’ and the variation, ‘Are you a fool, or is it true?’ The exact meaning for these inquires often eludes me. What is John afraid of and what is the alternative state that Paul wonders if it’s true?

One interpretation I’ve seen is made in the context of Dear Friend being an answer to How Do You Sleep? Here, the question ‘is it true?’ amounts to ‘did you really mean all those things you said, or were you just hurt?’ This seems a reasonable take and it works as a response to any attacks by John, not just necessarily How Do You Sleep?

Of course, Paul uses the word ‘afraid’. And although I can see a post-divorce John Lennon slagging of his ex out of hurt, I don’t understand how he’d do it out of fear. But maybe there was something to lose still.

Personally, clarity arrived when I was exposed to the song A Love For You. Part of the RAM demo tapes made between May and August 1970, this track recorded in 26 October 1970 would only be heard by the public in 2003, in the soundtrack for the movie “The In-Laws”.

The piece shares many motifs with other McCartney songs, as I’ve tried to explore before. But, to our discussion, I think the most relevant part of this contemporary of Dear Friend is the very last line of the second verse:

Is it true, are you coming through, or were you just leaving?

Here we have it; around the same time, precisely the same question: ‘Is it true?’

Though in the case of Dear Friend, it’s as if what he questions as “true” is reversed, asking instead: ‘Is it true you were just leaving? Or are you afraid of coming through? Or are you a fool for not seeing that I really am, I really can, I really do, I really have a love for you?’

This interpretation seems to match my current hypothesis that the breakup was but a disastrous series of miscommunications, which both created and were created by fear, distrust and insecurity in the other’s love.

If this is the case, the second verse seems to also make more sense. The first line is explained by Paul in 2001: “Let’s have a glass of wine and forget about it.” Assuming that the second line (the reason for this whole post) is referring to John, then it represents a clarification of Paul’s feelings. The verse culminates with a question that seems to reinforce the whole message: ‘Are you a fool for not seeing I’m in love with you, or is it true that you actually meant to leave and that you don’t feel the same anymore?’

I have to reinforce that, even with all of this, when Paul says ‘I’m in love with you’ to John, I don’t think it necessarily means ‘I’ll leave Linda, take me back!’ From my perspective, the way Paul’s in love with Linda doesn’t really infringe on the way he’s in love with John. He probably had totally different needs and expectations from the two relationships, which he doesn’t see as mutually exclusive.

So, in conclusion, for me Dear Friend is essentially Paul writing a letter to John saying, ‘Come on, are we really wasting time with this fighting nonsense? Let’s make up! I still feel the way I felt. Do you?’

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bewitchingbaker · 5 months ago

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📖: Describe your ideal character arc for them. How do you envision them changing by the end of the story?

I love love love love love this question. While I'm not the best writer, I have a general idea of Chris's overall story.

So...in a nutshell, Chris's main arc is finding a home and peace. Much like his family.

The Lunas ultimately left their home due to oscrazation and an attack on their home. Alone, desperate, and needing a home, hIs grandmother decided that she would provide a peaceful home for her kids, no matter what. Which lead to their various deals, thefts of magical objects and double crosses that gave them their hidden physical home in Arizona and the bakery they run their business out of. Unfortunately, this peace is not exactly ideal as they never exactly own up nor follow through on their mistakes.

To his older family members, peace is there but not really. They just haven't acknowledged the negative parts of what got them this peace(Angela's conscious is still in between dimensions from madness, Alice has ruined her relationship with a certain cosmic entity, Camillo can't settle down with a partner cause of his own deal with a demon, and Abuela has put a target on all their backs)

Now comes Chris.

Home for Chris isn't exactly a phsysical thing. It's more of a feeling. Our young Luna's home was just a place where he was cozy (his mom and dad, Jess, and the Richardson's). So when he lost his parents he lost part of his home and peace. Combine that with moving to Arizona, he sort of lost a feeling of home for a while.

While he somewhat gains that feeling through his life, it isn't until het become close friends with people like Acacia and Zora and his familars, that he began to seek his own place of home. So like the Lunas, he goes on his own journey of self discovery.

He meets friends, ends friendships, gets heartbrokne, has a few near death experiences and generally messed up.Yet...he keeps going.Even through the worst struggles and mistakes, Chris still keeps going and he even gets his own reputation along the way. But while the Lunas had a reputation of infamy, Chris's reputation is a bit more noble.

His story would end with him being a humble but still confident man who experienced the world. The best way I can describe it, he gets bruised and messed up on his journey to peace and home, but he wears them proudly as a sort of badge of making it through the rough times.

[ @realmyths ]

#realmyths #; ooc #; the mun speaks #//idk i want Chris's story to end with him bringing in a new slate for the Lunas

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jamielea81 · 5 years ago

Text

Conversations

Chapter 5

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing and drinking.

Word Count: 5,200

A/N: See note at the end of the chapter. Italics are internal thoughts.

Catch up with Chapter 4

The Minneapolis-St. Paul International airport was packed for your five o’clock flight on the twenty seventh. Apparently, everyone else was also saying goodbye to the Christmas holiday besides yourself. Vacation time is always great, but you had a story due on December twenty ninth that really needed to be finished. Technically, the article could have been written while staying in the frozen tundra that you once called home. The assignment is a piece covering various places to celebrate New Year’s Eve. All the information for the story could be found online and any questions could easily be answered via phone call, but after a week with your family, you needed the peace and quiet. You had grown accustomed to living alone. Home centered you, even if it was just a rental. You also thrived in an office setting; the beat of the busy newsroom also matching the beat of your heart.

Y/N: Getting ready to board. Just wanted to say goodnight in case I crash when I get home.

Grabbing your purse and duffle bag off the floor, you joined the massive crowd waiting to board the plane. This was the part of travel that gave you anxiety. The takeoff, landing, and overall length of a flight never bothered you. Nope, it was the crowd that stood directly in front of the gate. As if being on the plane longer than need be and stuffed next to two other people was enjoyable. But because everyone else stood around the gate, your anxiety made you join them.

After twenty minutes of waiting for boarding sections to be called, why they even had family boarding on a flight to Orlando was beyond you, you were seated somewhat comfortably in your window seat. The flight was full, so you did have two seat mates. Sisters from what you could tell with the bickering. The one in the middle seat explained they retired to Florida but made the trip home to see their brother for Christmas. So, you were right, sisters.

Chris didn’t send a text back, so you quickly typed one out before shutting it off for the flight.

Y/N: There are rumors that the flight has a wealthy oil baron on it. I’m pretty sure I am seated next to him. If you don’t hear from me, you know why.

You made it through the flight easy enough. All the seats were equipped with monitors loaded with various movies and television shows. Plugging in your earbuds, you settled on Toy Story 4 since you hadn’t seen it yet. After that finished, you mindlessly watched a couple of episodes of the Big Bang Theory.

As much fun as you had with your family, it was good to be home. Between the time spent at your mom’s house and then at your dad’s, plus your brother dragging you out nightly, to quote Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon, you were “getting too old for this shit.”

Walking in your house around ten that night, you were a little disappointed to see Chris hadn’t texted back. Knowing that him and Scott where in Boston to spend time with family and friends, you tried not to let it bother you too much. You were exhausted anyway. A long hot shower and your bed sounded like the ultimate plan. Emptying your suitcase into the washer could wait until tomorrow.

With a one load of clothes in the washer, a second in the dryer, and your article half done, you were feeling pretty proud of yourself. You even woke up before your alarm this morning. Maybe a trip back home was all you needed for a boost. Usually post vacation, you needed another vacation to cope with life.

Your phone vibrated on your desk indicating you had a message. Picking it up, you saw it was Chris, so you swiped the message open.

Chris: Oil barons are so overrated. You better be home in Orlando.

You smirked at his response.

Chris: I was out late last night. Hope you had a good trip home sweetheart.

Y/N: I’m sorry, me and Spencer (the oil baron) are picking out rings. Can I call you later?

Chris: OK smartass. Don’t make me fly out there.

Oh boy, did you wish he would deliver on that threat. In actuality, you had only spent five, maybe ten minutes at the most with Chris. And even though you’ve spent hours upon hours over the last couple of months talking to him on the phone and through text messaging, you were really hoping for some in person time.

Y/N: Oh no, the baron wouldn’t like that. I might though.

You bit your lip as soon as you hit send. While Chris flirted with you often, it was rare for you to come back with a comment of your own. When a few minutes had passed without a response, you got back to work on your article. Hours later and he still hadn’t responded, you worried that maybe you had taken the game to far. You knew your comment was totally innocent, but you couldn’t help but worry. You overthink everything, that’s just who you are.

Ugh! Why am I like this?

It wasn’t until the next day when you received a response from Chris where he completely ignored what you said.

Chris: Can you tell Scott that purple pants is not a good look.

Yep, you were not going to attempt to flirt again. You would leave all the flirting to him.

Y/N: I need context here.

Chris: For New Years Eve. He’s wearing purple pants.

Y/N: I stan Scott Evans. You can’t change my mind.

Chris: 😂

Chris: You do you sweetheart

The end of 2019 was here and it was a year you were happy with. You didn’t make any bad haircut decisions. All your potted plants were still alive. You had written a few articles you were very proud of. You spent time with family. You made some new friends. Overall, it was a year that you had no regrets in. You only hoped 2020 would be the same.

After finishing up at the office a little earlier than usual, you joined a group of your co-workers for a long dinner, opting not to join them bar hoping as the night went on. You were keeping your word on that whole not drinking for quite some time promise you made to yourself. Well, at least not hard alcohol. Wine doesn’t count.

By eight you were home and already in your pajamas. Brooks and Jana always went to Brooks’ brother’s house on New Year’s Eve. It was their tradition. The last few years they had invited you to come along, but you had always declined. It was their family thing and even though you loved Brooks like a brother, it felt like an intrusion to join them.

Even though Christmas was over last week, you had a pile of Hallmark Christmas movies you had stored on your DVR that you needed to get through. Write Before Christmas was the first on your list. The movie starred Chad Michael Murray who you had a crush on since his One Tree Hill days. DVR was really the way to go. Being able to fast forward through commercials meant you could get in almost three movies before midnight.

After you had thoroughly swooned over Chad, you moved on to Holiday Date. It was the whole fake dating plot with a predictable outcome, but it was cute so far nonetheless.

You hit pause because your phone was buzzing out of control. You could see from the preview screen that you had six messages from Scott.

Scott: Happy New Year!

Scott: Hope you’re out finding someone to kiss at midnight

Scott: You better be out

Followed by a picture of Scott and his boyfriend embracing. A picture of a few women standing on top of a bar pouring shots directly from bottles into the mouths of who you assumed were some of Scott’s friends. And a group shot of about ten that included Chris. The were all sitting in in chairs in front of a few tables, a few people crouched down in front and a pretty blonde sitting on Chris’ lap. So, there’s that.

“You can’t get jealous about someone who isn’t yours,” you said to yourself.

It was the truth. And you had no idea who she was. How many sisters did the boys have? You looked at the picture again, deciding for sure she wasn’t a sister. Not in the way she was sitting nor the way he was holding her.

Sighing out loud, you set the phone down on the cushion next to you. You moved from your comfy place on the couch, stomping your feet until you noticed you were doing so. You steady yourself and then walked calmly into the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of rosé from your refrigerator, you uncorked it and filled your large wine glass to the rim.

It’s New Year’s, I’m allowed a glass of wine. A large glass of wine.

You made your way back to your couch, inhaling a couple of large gulps before hitting the play button on the remote. Deciding you needed to formulate an appropriate response to Scott rather than saying something stupid, you delved back into the romance on the screen. Or at least you tried to.

When a half hour had passed, you picked up your phone, typing out a normal response to Scott. Normal meaning how a person who was not in any sort of relationship with Chris Evans should respond. Because you weren’t. In fact, you hoped he got laid. Well, maybe not that.

Y/N: Happy New Year!

Y/N: You and Zach look so cute! Have a great night.

There. That’s how a normal person who wasn’t living in a fantasy land would respond.

Your second movie ended but you honestly weren’t paying all that much attention. Rather than starting up a third movie, you switched it to cable, finding Ryan Seacrest hosting the annual countdown show.

Finishing your wine shortly before midnight, you washed out the glass and set it in the rack to dry. You found your way back to your couch, laying down to watch the ball drop. You fired off a text to Jana to tell her you loved her as that was your traditional greeting to each other. She sent one back almost right away asking for the two of you to get lunch on Friday. The ball dropped to a chorus of cheers followed by a rendition of Auld Lang Syne by the New York City crowd. The after show played on and you fell asleep while a band you hadn’t heard of played in the background.

In the too early hours of the morning, you woke from your place on the couch, neck aching from the odd angle you slept in. Deciding to leave your phone where it was, you crawled in to bed with no plans of waking any time soon.

Of course, you couldn’t sleep forever. You had to eat at some point as evident from your stomach loudly growling around eleven in the morning.

After eating, then showering, and getting dressed for the day, you finally took a peek at your phone. Nothing from Chris. Which is whatever because you didn’t reach out to him either. But of course, there was a message from Scott from around three in the morning.

Scott: How you doin’?

You could totally hear him saying it in a Joey Tribbiani accent.

Scott: Earth to Sassy

You typed out a reply, but you doubted he was out of bed if he was texting you so late.

Y/N: Sassy was sleeping, you late night partier you

Deciding that you didn’t want to be rude, you sent Chris a text. It was New Years after all, so it was only polite. Hopefully he was awake. And alone. No. That was none of your business. Keeping it simple was the way to go.

Y/N: Happy New Year

Almost immediately, Chris responded back.

Chris: Happy New Year

And that was it. He was probably hungover...or occupied.

Friday found you at Champs for lunch with Jana. The two of you chatting about New Year’s Eve. Brooks’ brother and wife had a little boy almost a year ago, so the party was a little different than it had been in previous years. This apparently ignited a fatherhood desire for Brooks over the last couple of days.

“And I want to have a little one too, but I’m so close to making partner. It’s just not the right time,” Jana sighed out.

You reached across the table grabbing her hand, rubbing it soothingly. “When it’s right, it’s right,” you replied.

She nodded her head, giving your hand a squeeze before pulling it away. “The thing is, I don’t know if I’ll be any less busy after I make partner. I kind of wish we would have started a family right after we got married. Coulda, shoulda, I guess.”

“Is there ever a right time though?” you asked. “Then there’s me who hasn’t dated in how long?” You let out a chuckle, quickly sticking a chicken finger in your mouth. You really didn’t want the sympathy, you’re not even sure why you said it.

“Whose fault is that? I don’t see you putting yourself out there. Oh! Maybe you should ask Chris out,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Dude. No,” you replied. “Number one, we don’t live in the same state. The same region even. Number two, he’s so not interested. If he were, he probably would have made something happen. Number three, he barely knows me. Number four, he’s him and I’m me.”

Jana put her hand over your mouth, giving you a warning glare. When she didn’t immediately remove it, you licked it, causing her to cringe and grab a napkin to wipe the spot you licked. You chuckled quietly to yourself.

“You’re a brat. Do you know that?” she questioned. “But you’re also amazing and I don’t want to hear anything different. If not Chris, just put yourself out there. It’s a start of a brand new year. Make some changes.”

Numbly, you nodded your head. Maybe you had been hiding away, in a way. It wasn’t like you were staying home all the time. You went out. Sometimes. Okay fine. When you weren’t working or out with your married couple friends, you mostly kept to the office and your house. You’d think about adding something more social to your schedule.

January dragged on as it usually did. You definitely were enjoying the cooler and sometimes cold temperatures, making use of the new sweaters you purchased around Christmas. Your relationship with Chris had started to fizzle. It was subtle at first. Texts not being responded to for hours. Phone calls not being answered from time to time. Okay, that one wasn’t a big deal. But most of those phone calls weren’t being returned. A lot less sweethearts being tossed your way. It was different. And because you had developed feelings or the at the very least, a crush on Chris, you were feeling down about it. Scott was still in your life and it felt like he would always be. Maybe it was safer that way. Maybe being close with both of the brothers would ruin the other friendship in the end. Especially if feelings weren’t returned.

It was near the end of January when you brought it up to Scott. You weren’t looking for drama or attention, so you just casually mentioned over the phone when he brought up Chris that you hadn’t been hearing from Chris quite as often.

“Did Chris tell you what he bought Shanna?” Scott chuckles out.

“No, he didn’t,” you said and then took a breath. “Actually, I haven’t really been hearing from Chris a whole lot lately.”

You hear Scott blow out a breath and then you hear him groan. “He does that sometimes. I’m sorry,” Scott sighs.

“Why are you sorry? Don’t be sorry. It’s fine. It’s totally fine. As long as we’re good,” you stifled out.

“Of course, you and I are good. Not even a question Sassy.”

The nickname instantly putting you at ease.

“Good.” You bit at your lip, wondering if you should push further. Why not, might as well make this a one and done conversation. “What did you mean by, he does this sometimes?” you asked.

“When he’s with someone, he kind of just gets wrapped up in that person. He’ll eventually gets better at talking to the outside world, it just takes him awhile.”

Welp. There it is. So, at least you can give up on this little crush. Definitely not feelings. Just a crush and you would be over it by tomorrow.

“Oh!” you exclaimed.

Get. It. Together.

“I didn’t know he was seeing anyone,” you said in a much calmer voice.

“Yeah…It’s with Courtney. And you have no idea who Courtney is, sorry. They’ve dated a bunch of times of the years. Just can never seem to make it work. She’s great and everyone loves her, they just never seem to work. And you better not tell him I told you that,” he warned.

“Geez, calm down Grumpy. Like I said, we aren’t exactly talking these days and I’m not exactly going to bring up a girlfriend I don’t know,” you replied.

Scott chuckled. “There’s the Sassy I know. Anyway, it’s still new again. They started to hangout right around Christmas.”

“Oh, is she that girl on his lap from the pictures you sent me on New Year’s?” you asked.

“Yeah, she was there that night. Long blonde hair?”

“Yep,” you replied.

“That would be Courtney. I wouldn’t worry, it won’t last. I mean, I want the best for him and if it’s her, the more power to them.”

Now you were confused.

“Wh-why would I worry?” you said and then promptly cleared your throat.

“Come on Y/N, it’s not hard to tell that you maybe have teeny-tiny crush on my brother. A little bit. Come on. Tell me I’m wrong,” he teased.

He couldn’t see you, but you were giving him the best bitch face you could muster. “Shuddup.”

It was a week a way from Valentines Day. Even though you were single for it again this year, you were never one of those people who hated the holiday. If you were with someone and the two of you decided to make the day special, great. If not, that was fine too. When your co-workers got flowers delivered to their desk, you always thought it was sweet. Brooks always went over the top for all holidays and you loved hearing about the special thing he did for Jana. What you didn’t love was your father calling you to wish you a happy Valentines Day that was really just a phone call prying into your relationship status. You loved your dad, you really did, you just wished he wouldn’t get on your case as much as he did.

You were up earlier than normal. Being the great friend that you were, you were bringing Jana breakfast since she was apparently going into the office earlier and earlier, surviving only on coffee. You stopped at your favorite coffee house, picking up two coffees, two apple cinnamon muffins, and a small bowl of oatmeal for Jana. You figured she could have the oatmeal now and snack on the muffin later.

Because she wasn’t pissed at you for any reason, she was already in the lobby, ready to sign you in.

“Good morning princess. I come baring gifts of a nutritional breakfast,” you greeted her after saying hello to Phil at the security desk.

“Why, thank you, bestie. Where would I be without you?” She puts her hand over her heart. The two of you were both smartasses and you often felt bad for Brooks.

You pass her the tray of coffees and wave your goodbye to Phil with your now free hand.

Jana’s apparently hungry as she scarfs down the oatmeal, only stopping to thank you for adding cinnamon for her. You’re still picking at your muffin because you ate a bowl of cereal before leaving your house. If you’re up early, your body wants to eat right away. Waiting was not an option.

“So, what does Brooks have planned for next week?” you asked.

“You know he doesn’t tell me. I’d bet money that you know and are just messing with me.” She smirks at you before picking up her own muffin, peeling back the wrapper.

Honestly, you don’t know. Brooks knows you well enough to know that you will squeal, especially if it’s something good.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you tease.

She sits up straight in her seat. “You know?! Tell me!”

You start to chuckle and shake your head. “I swear on your Chanel bag I don’t know. Just messing with you.”

After your short chat, Jana kicks you out of her office. The firm’s decision on who was making partner was going to be announced in a matter of days, so everyone was putting more time in. You checked your phone for any e-mails from the paper while you waited for the elevator. There were only two so far, just a couple of assignments for the week.

“Good morning, Y/N. What brings you here so early?” Ethan asks, bumping your shoulder slightly as he comes to stand next to you at the elevator. He’s dressed in another impeccable suit. Hair styled perfectly.

“Brought Jana a little breakfast. How are you Ethan?” you asked.

The elevator opens and a few people shuffle out. Ethan holds the elevator door for you to enter, and surprisingly he gets in. You press the button for the lobby, but he doesn’t push a button for any floor.

“I’m great. It’s going to be going to be a great week.”

He’s so sure of himself, but you can’t even fault him because he’s always so nice with a smile always present on his face. Jana’s said that he’s a bit of a know it all, but he’s a hard worker too.

The elevator doors open, the two of you walking out with Ethan walking next to you. He walks a little ahead, grabbing the door for you.

“Thank you,” you muttered as the two of you start to make your way across the parking lot.

“So, Y/N, are you seeing anyone?” he asked.

You stop in your tracks, right in the path of cars circling the lot. Deciding that’s not safe, you walk to an empty parking spot, Ethan trailing behind. The fact that he’d ask such a question surprises, but at the same time, it’s Ethan, you’re surprised he hasn’t asked sooner.

“I put the siiiiing in single,” you kind of speak and sing at the same time. Ethan in turn stares at you blankly. Apparently, he’s not a fan of Lizzo. “Ethan, we need to get you listening to popular music. I’m single.”

He gets the biggest grin on his face. Your cross your arms across your chest and lean on one leg, slightly amused. You know what’s coming, but you don’t want him to be so sure of your answer.

“Can I take you out sometime?” he asks, forest green eyes looking directly into yours.

You let him wait for your answer. Ethan is nice enough, he’s also easy on the eyes, and your dating life has also been lacking for quite some time. You’re actually slightly surprised it’s taken him this long to ask. Chewing on your bottom lip to really sell your indecision, he finally starts to squirm. He starts to brush his fingers through his perfectly jelled hair and you almost feel bad. A smile starts to form on your face and he instantly drops his hand, realizing what he was doing.

“I’d like that. Just not on Valentines Day. Not for a first date,” you tell him.

“Okay. Not on Valentines Day. Great. Okay,” he replies.

He’s such a dork, but it’s sweet. Ethan just stands there grinning at you and you’re really itching to get in your car rather than standing in a parking lot of a law firm.

“Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in it so you can call me,” you tell him.

Ethan passes you his phone, smile still bright on his face. You shake your head slightly but smile back, entering your number and passing him back the phone.

“I’ll call you,” he said.

“I look forward to it,” you reply, instantly cringing at your words.

I look forward to it? Who’s the dork now?

You offer him a slight wave before turning around and walking to your car. You’re kind of excited for the first time in a while. Getting in your car, you fire off a text to Jana.

Y/N: Ethan finally asked me out.

Jana: Oh, great. I’m going to have to see him even more now?

You chuckle at her response. You know she’s half teasing, but what a brat.

Y/N: You assume I said yes?

Y/N: OK, I said yes. But calm down, it’s one date. No one said anything about double dating.

Ethan waited two days before texting you. He asked to take you to dinner on Wednesday, which was two days before Valentines Day, so you said yes. The restaurant he chose was on the higher end, so wearing jeans was out of the question. Jana called you before you had the chance to call her. She was screaming in your ear and you could barely make out what she was saying.

“What? But say it slower with less yelling,” you said to her screeching.

“She made partner,” you hear Brooks shouting from the background.

“I made partner!” she yells, in a much lower tone than before.

“Oh my god, this is amazing! I knew you’d get it!”

“I can finally get some sleep,” she sighs out.

You know she’s exhausted, but all you want to do is go out and celebrate.

“Drinks tomorrow then?” you ask.

“Yeah. Yeah. But like, let’s go early,” she replied.

You chuckle at her response. “Early it is. I have news for your too. Ethan’s taking me to The Capital Grille on Wednesday.”

“Oh, fancy. Makes sense though since the two of us made partner,” she said.

“What?! I didn’t know that was even a thing.”

“Yeah, it happens. Rarely though. They couldn’t decide, so we both got it,” she said.

“Well, you get some rest, and call me tomorrow, love.”

“I will. Bye Y/N.”

You texted Scott a day later to tell him about your date. He told you he was excited for you and glad you had said yes. You laughed at the excited part because while you had been in a dry spell, it hadn’t been that long. Maybe six months. Maybe you should be more excited. Once you assigned a number to it, it sounded bad.

Scott asked if you’d heard from Chris. You had, but it was four days earlier. It was just a text saying hi, asking how I’ve been, but then the conversation fizzled out. That seemed to be the new norm in your relationship. A text every four days or five days. He had a girlfriend; he probably shouldn’t be talking to another girl daily and calling her sweetheart. You wouldn’t like that if it were the other way around.

Two days before your date, you sent Scott three pictures of dresses you were deciding between for your date with Ethan. He called you a few minutes later, wanting to go over your options.

“So, what kind of place is this?”

“It’s an expensive steakhouse in Orlando,” you replied.

“Okay, then option two is out. That’s way too casual. You should probably just throw it away. I don’t want to see that dress again.”

“Scott! Jerk. Leave my dress alone. It’s not that bad,” you complain.

“Want my help or not?”

“Fine. But I’m not throwing it out. I wear that to work a lot,” you replied.

“My point exactly. You don’t wear a work dress on a date Sassy.” Scott said.

“You takin’ to Sassy?” Chris says in the background.

Shit. He’s with Chris?

You’re not sure why you don’t want Chris to know about your date. You feel weird about him being there while this conversation is taking place.

“What about the first dress. The black one?”

It’s your attempt to move the conversation along. The sooner you get off the phone, the better.

“How slutty do you want to be on this date?” Scott asks.

Instantly you cringe, slapping your free hand against your forehead.

“Scoooott,” you whine.

“Slutty?” you hear Chris ask.

Jesus.

“It’s an honest question. Like a little slutty or a lot slutty?” Scott asked.

“Give me the phone,” Chris said. You hear Scott object in the background, but it’s too late, Chris has the phone. “What is Scott goin’ on about? You got a date or somethin’ sweetheart?”

There’s that nickname again and damnit if you stomach doesn’t flip. You really hoped you were over that.

“Yeah. Yeah, I have a date,” you practically whisper out.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he asked.

A part of you thinks he’s joking or teasing, but his tone isn’t coming off that way and it’s rubbing you the wrong way.

“Tell you?” you question.

“Well, yeah. You tell Scott all about it, but don’t mention it to me,” he replied.

“Chris, you and I haven’t been exactly talking a whole lot lately. When would I have told you?”

He scoffs at your response. “We talk.”

You’re shaking your head but he can’t see you which is annoying.

“Besides, you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone, let a lone had a girlfriend,” you replied.

There. You said it. It was none of your business, but you didn’t like this whole conversation and the attitude that was coming with it.

You hear breathing from his end but apparently the cat had caught his tongue because he wasn’t responding.

“I gotta go,” you said.

“Y/N, wait,” you hear him say, but your pushing the end call button before you can even stop yourself.

This was not a conversation you wanted to have. You were simply seeking a guy’s opinion on what to wear for a date. Your first in six freaking months and Chris who barely speaks to you needs to complain about not knowing about said date. You groaned out loud, picking up the work dress and sticking it back in your closest. Sending pictures of the two remaining dresses to Jana to make the final decision, you walked into your kitchen, opting for tea rather than wine.

You phone buzzed while the water simmered in the pot.

Scott: Hey, it’s Scott. I’ll call you later.

Scott was your friend. You just hoped that if your friendship with Chris was over, it wouldn’t cause any drama or stress for Scott.

Chapter 6

A/N: If you’ve read any of my past stories, you will know that I love a happy ending. Please don’t worry. I will fix this. I want this to be as realistic as it can be, so I don’t believe that Chris would put his life on hold for someone he has a phone relationship with. But have faith and know I love you all.

Tag List: @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob @patzammit @heartislubbingdubbing @collinsstanharbour @twittytelly @linki-locks11 @mywinterwolf @ab-baybay @rda1989 @impalaimages @jesseswartzwelder @rainbowkisses31 @xostephanie @panicfob @smoothdogsgirl @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xxloki81xx @thenormreedus @holywaterbucketchallenge @mustangshelby04 @bellaireland1981 @carolina-thiell @straightforwardly @torntaltos @denise1605 @mcuclintasha @southerngracela @iam-cj @trynnabeamultifandom @chrisevansforever-blog @kelbabyblue @broadwayandnetflix @kyjey @thevelvetseries @i-just-feel-like @daddieslittlefangirl @hista-girl @stankface @denisemarieangelina @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @whymalu @the-doctors-fallen-angel @mariswritingforfun @tessabb7 @chrisevansfanfic @lakamaa12 @thinkxlovexloud @deidrashouseofpain @nea90sweetie @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @greyeyedsmile14 @dangerouslovefanfic @ripvandrinkle @bitterstar88 @andymi3ntus @zestygingergirl @xstudiousslytherinx @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @cocomel0613 @onceuponathreetwoone @supraveng

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fan fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans reader insert #chris evans x y/n #chris evans imagine

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itsunclebucky · 5 years ago

Text

Nothing Else Matters

Pairing(s): Destroyer!Chris x Reader Warning(s): Language, Oral sex, semi NSFW. Word Count: A-N: This is for the @the-ss-horniest-book-club with the prompt: You’re undercover at the same location as destroyer!Chris, you give him a bad first impression and you think he hates you. When you are both left alone at the house, you’re drinking beers and having a slow casual conversation when he suddenly offers to eat your pussy.

This was not ideal. But when your boss, who didn’t ask, but demanded you went undercover at a junkyard to find as much information as you could about weapons, money laundering and the drugs the gang had possessed, you ultimately had no choice and were thrown in the deep end of it all.

Two other undercover cops were already at the hideout, unbeknown to you at that moment, Erin and Chris as they introduced themselves. To them, you were just someone interested in doing drugs and to you, they were just part of the gang. Your first introduction to Chris was cringing, to say the least.

“What’s the deal with the buzz cut and beard? Looks like a razor broke before you could finish.” You’d for some reason blurted out before you could control your mouth. A flicker of offense crossed his fears and you pursed your lips awkwardly and stepped away.

But you didn’t mean it to offend him, in all honesty, you really loved the look.

Since then, Chris never spoke to you. And if you were in the same room, he would find some bullshit excuse to leave or if he couldn’t, if Silas needed him, he would avoid your existence as best he could.

You didn’t know any different until a month into the mission, when you overheard a conversation between Chris and Erin, about getting out whilst they can, that they had enough evidence to make an arrest. And you wished you had that opportunity. But your boss needed more than you had reported back to him. You heard their footsteps approach the door and you quickly sprinted away to your room down the hall.

You took a nap, and when you woke up the house was eerily quiet. Usually, there is loud music thumping against the walls, or loud arguments brewing from the main living area, but when you woke there was nothing but peace. And you wondered for a moment if this whole ordeal had been a dream, and you were back in your own bed at home. But the nicotine-stained walls and dirty sheets said otherwise. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes as all you wanted to do was go home.

You slipped on a loose T-shirt and some shorts and quietly walked through the hallway. The air was cleared and it looked like the gang has been gone for a while. You froze when you stepped into the living room, Chris was sat in the chair drinking a beer.

“Where is everyone?” You asked quietly. Chris’s eyes flickered to your choice of outfit and averted his gaze to your face.

“They went out for the day. They’ll be back tomorrow.” Those were the first 10 words Chris has said to you since you came here. You just nodded and shifted awkwardly on your feet, not knowing what to do with yourself. “Take a seat, I don’t bite.” He grins and you opt to sit opposite him on the floor in front of the table that had an ashtray and beer bottles scattered around it.

Chris stretched his hand out and offered you a beer, you took it with a quiet thanks. You pursed your lips around the rim and took a generous swig.

“It’s not as good as tequila, but it’s alright,” Chris said taking a sip of his own. You smiled, agreeing with him, the longing to taste the deliciousness of red wine on your tongue again.

“I can’t wait to drink wine.” You chuckled shyly and looked around the living room. The sun shone through the partially boarded up windows, making the dust in the air known.

“Why are you here? You’re too innocent to be affiliated with Silas and his boys and I’ve never seen you touch any drugs.” Chris said, darting his tongue between his lips.

“Oh, I-” how was I going to explain this?

“You’re undercover.” stated and you sheepishly nodded your head. “So am I.” He smiled. You didn’t understand why he was being so nice to you when he ignored you since the day you made that comment.

About that! “I’m really sorry for what I said about... you know.” Your hands flailed to his face and he smirked.

“Don’t stress. I knew you were nervous.” He said and you chuckled, and rubbed the back of your neck, causing your shirt to tighten against your bare breasts and Chris’s breath hitched as he saw your nipple poke through. His jeans became tighter he could feel a sheen of sweat form on his neck and forehead.

You stop scratching your neck when you notice his eyes are fixed to your breasts and you awkwardly tug the shirt forward.

“So uh, where have they gone?” You ask, trying to ease the sudden tension. Chris is breathing heavily through his parted lips and he keeps licking his lips. “Chris?” He snaps out of his trance and shakes his head with a chuckle.

“They didn’t say. Just said they’ll be back tomorrow. Can I ask you something?” It was the dreaded question you’ve always hated, it was usually followed by a “Is it true you...”

“Uh, yes sure.” You clear the lump in the throat. Chris sits forward, resting his elbows on top of his thighs and his hands under his chin. You’re sat crisscrossed on the floor and your shirt is pulled up slightly.

“Can I eat your pussy out for you?” Your heart pounded in your chest and you weren’t sure if this was a test. “Please?” He asks as he stands up and steps to where you’re sat. His hand is stretched out and you take it, for what reason you didn’t know.

Chris sits you on the chair he sat just seconds again. He’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, his hands around your thighs as he pulls you closer to the edge of the chair. He kisses the insides of your thighs and looks up at you. “So?” He wants your permission. And you don’t trust your voice right now, so all you can do is nod your head.

His thumbs hook on either side of your shorts and swiftly pulls them down your thighs. He groans when he sees you weren’t wearing panties this whole time. Arousal covers your lips. A soft gasp leaves you when his slick finger circles your soft clit.

“Fuck, you’re way too innocent.” He whispers, lowering his face down. His lips encase your clit as his teeth gently gaze the flesh. Your hand rests on the back of his head as his tongue begins to circle you. Your feet are pressed firmly on the floor as you lift your hips to his face. Both hands are caressing your sensitive thighs.

Chris takes his time. Loving the way your taste explodes his taste buds, you’re the sweetest and innocent little thing he’s tasted in his entire life. The mewls and moans he pulls from you encourage him to keep at the same pace. His beard tickles the skin by your entrance and his stubble on his cheeks burn against your thighs. The slurping noises from the tongue are sinful and you pray he is right about everybody not be back until tomorrow.

Chris shakes his head back and forth and you almost scream by how good that felt. You can feel your insides leaking from the hole onto the chair but you couldn’t care. A warm feeling begins to circulate in your tummy.

“Oh, Chris! I’m gonna cum.” You pant. Chris removes his hands from your thighs and massages your pubic mound. Your body shakes and your head is thrown back as you grind your hips against his delicious tongue. A few more strokes of his tongue have euphoria washing through your trembling body.

Chris gives a couple more gentle and light strokes, helping you through the intense orgasm that has you seeing stars. Chris sits back and smirks. “You’re more delicious than I ever thought.” He said and you chuckle. Feeling uncomfortably wet but still not satisfied.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask, turning the question around to him. He nods his head and massages your foot. A sly smirk grows on your face, “Will you sleep with me? I kinda wanna feel all of you.” You grin, caressing his cum-soaked beard.

“I have a better idea. Let's get out of this while we still can. Go someplace safe. And I'll make love to you the entire night." He suggests.

"What about Erin?"

"She's with Arturo. Why do you think I'm here and not with them. Please, come with me."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Deadly serious. We can get new identities, leave California and live a quiet life with new jobs."

You knew it was crazy. But Chris wanted a way out too, and this was the only way he could. It was his suggestion to Silas to leave with everyone for the day, to go out and enjoy nature. With a moment to think about it, you made the decision. Both of you going back to your assigned bedrooms to pack your belongings and running for your lives.

Taglist: @sebbbystaaan @jobean12-blog @marvelgirl7 @criminal-cookies

#destroyer!chris #destroyer #HBC Drunk Drabbles #HBC #HBC drabbles #destroyer chris x reader #detective chris #chris x reader #smutty #silas #itsunclebucky

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lettingmydreamsspeak · 5 years ago

Text

The Heart Knows Best

Summary: While on a yearly trip to Manhattan, the reader follows her heart one early morning, leading her to an unexpected moment trying to escape the rain.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Female Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: approx. 2300

A/N: This is the first of my writings that I actually wanted to post. If this is a story that you want to see more of, let me know! This has the potential for a series. I’m also open to feedback, so message me if you have some.

***************************************************************************

It was early enough in the morning for you to contemplate whether or not you should turn over and go back to bed, or get up and tackle the day. For some, if they were on vacation like you were, sleep would be the first option. Not today though. You felt the urge to get up and seize the day. There was something deep down inside that was pushing you to get up. It was as if something was calling you go out and find something, but that something was hidden.

You are the type to make sure that your makeup and hair is perfect before heading out the door each day, but the intensity of this calling pushed you to quickly get ready. With your yoga pants and favourite band t-shirt on, you grab your notebook and pen, along with a sweater, phone and hotel room key. Standing in front of the mirror, you think to yourself that at 6am, who cares what they look like, especially when the rest of the world around you is sleeping.

This city gave you life. Even though your home was thousands of miles away at the current moment, it was okay. You felt more at home here in Manhattan than you did in your own hometown, and that is probably why you kept returning. When life permitted, you would visit the city to rejuvenate your soul and get back to feeling like yourself again. You were never really sure why this city did that for you, but never argued with your feelings, especially when it came to how that heart of yours was feeling.

This was the first time that you woke up at such an ungodly hour to take a walk and enjoy the silence that is so rare in the city. As you strolled down the street in a lazy manner, you knew that a coffee was needed to kick off the day. Your favourite café was a few blocks away. It was not open yet, so a small detour would help continue your early morning adventure.

You found the perfect spot…a concrete bench in the middle of Times Square, where you could sit cross legged and relax. Sitting quietly, you looked around to see that there was not a soul around. Strangely enough, you didn’t feel alone. The constant flashing of lights and images on the oversized billboards kept you company, as they seemed to be brighter than the sun that was slowly rising on the horizon you could not see. This view could be considered sensory overload, but for you, you loved it because it was always changing, just like your life. You could only take it in small doses though. As you sat there and took it all in, your hands gently opened up the notebook you carried with you.

The blank pages stared back at you. Those blank page did not scare you. It was everything that you were holding with you in, that scared you. It was also those blank pages that allowed for you to convey what scared you. The life you were given was beyond blessed. It was a life filled with endless opportunities to dream and the chance to live them out. There was one thing that you had always dreamed of though. It was love. Yes, you had the endless love of family and friends to fill your life. Even though you have been in and out of love a majority of your adult life, it was ultimately the soulmate kind of love that you were in search of. A love that, in a way, scared you.

The pages slowly filled up about the dreams you had for this kind of love. Line by line, you wondered if you were being unrealistic. But yet, the words kept flowing from the heart to the hand, and on to the pages, making it all seem a little more official. With the quickness to get all that you were feeling onto those pages, you could feel the return of what got you out to the middle of Times Square so early that morning.

“What are you trying to tell me?” you asked aloud, as if someone was going to answer.

The feelings grew stronger to the point that if you didn’t get up and start to walk again, you may be ill. You quickly closed up the book with an unfinished thought barely written down. This thought ended mid-sentence. You needed to go though, not to escape what you were feeling, but to dive in and understand why that feeling grew even more. The coffee you once needed, now slipped your mind as you were on a mission to get to Central Park. You were seeking refuge in the park. This is where your hair, like the leaves in the trees, would blow in the wind and the smell of fresh air would fill your lungs. It was the mix of the city life and the solitude of nature that had a place in your heart. You knew exactly where you wanted to sit. It was just beneath the trees near the Gapstow Bridge, looking towards the buildings that towered over 5th Avenue. What a view it was. You found such peace when you sat there.

As sun kissed clouds filled the sky with orange and pink hues, as if it were a painting, you met the entrance of the park with a great big sigh.

“So heart, you led me here, now reveal to me why.”

Your steps slowly took you to the spot you loved the most. Finding the tree you would frequently sit under when returning to the city, you took off her sweater and set it on the ground before sitting down.

“Alright, you got me to this spot. Why have you suddenly gone quiet? Are you at peace now that we are here?”

You realized that all those feelings that plagued you since you awoke, had disappeared. This clarity allowed for you to focus on the thoughts that filled the mind, the daydreams of the perfect life that you only imagined. As you drifted off into those daydreams, the world started to wake up. The beautiful morning songs of the birds still outweighed the sounds of the cars getting people where they needed to go. As your eyes remained closed, you could pick out the sounds of ducks on the pond, bicycle wheels speeding past, and the quick paced footsteps of the runners as they went by. Without even realizing, the smile on your face grew larger. You felt happy for the first time today.

“I guess I just needed to press pause, didn’t I? I am okay with that, if there is where I need to be.”

Taking another deep breath of the fresh air, your heart rate slowed. A sense of calm had come over you, causing you to drift off not into daydreams, but actual dreams. The tree was the perfect pillow, and the warm wind…a perfect blanket.

That warm wind slowly started to cool and gain some speed, bringing in what seemed to be a morning storm. Though there was not a single drop of rain falling from the sky yet, the painted sky turned dark. Yet, you were still asleep, complete unaware of what was happening around you. That was until a single drop of rain landed upon your nose. The shelter from the tree had stopped a majority of the rain from soaking you, but the water that had landed on the paved path was slowly starting to drain off into the grass, in the direction of where you sat.

Not fully awake and alert of what was going on, the rain started to come down even more. This change in weather scared you out of your slumber. In a daze, you scrambled to find the phone on the ground and your sweater, that seemingly started to soak up what little water that was streaming off the pathways. Not sure of which way to go to seek the closest shelter, you threw your hands into the sky in frustration.

“Seriously? You bring me out here, only to get soaked by the rain. If this is a joke or something, you don’t see me laughing!”

A couple running by looked at you as if you were going crazy. They even looked up to the sky, as if there was a giant you were talking to. Yelling at the sky was not going to help in that moment so you started to cross the bridge in search of a place for to stay dry. Suddenly your heart stopped. You had forgotten the notebook under the tree. The thought of this notebook being completely ruined by the stream of water flowing down the hill, broke your heart. Quickly turning around to run back to the tree, you were stopped in your tracks by a human, standing in the way.

Almost in tears, you kept your head down to keep the rain from your face and the embarrassment of being on the verge of crying.

“I am so sorry…I just…please excuse me. My life is written in that notebook. It’s slowly…. Becoming a soggy mess under that tree right there…I need to get to it before it is completely….ruined.”

“...You mean this notebook?”

The stranger slowly pulls out a notebook from under their sweater. Seeing that notebook in the hand of a stranger would have worried some individuals with the idea they read about your life’s greatest secrets. You knew better than that. This stranger didn’t have time to read the notebook. With a sense of relief, you sighed as your head still hung low. You couldn’t make eye contact with this stranger, as you still felt humiliated for treasuring that notebook so much.

“Thank you so much. I know it’s just a notebook and I shouldn’t be crying about it, but I’ve had that notebook for such a long time. There are lots of memories and dreams written on those pages.”

The stranger kept the notebook in their hands as they continued to protect it with their sweater.

“I understand. I can’t imagine losing something like this. When you got up to find shelter, I saw it fall from your lap. I couldn’t just leave it sitting there.”

His voice calmed you. It felt familiar. It felt safe.

You slowly started to look up at the hand that held the notebook, and the other hand that held the umbrella you weren’t even aware that you were standing under. He was no longer protecting himself from the rain that was coming down. He was more concerned that this notebook, and you, would stay a little drier than he now was. What kind of stranger would be so kind as to do this? You slowly started to raise your head, knowing you was protected from the rain by this stranger. As you stood staring straight into the eyes of this man, you became even calmer. You knew exactly who this was.

“Here, please take my umbrella to protect you and this notebook.” He slowly handed you the notebook, which appeared to be in near perfect condition, along with the umbrella.

A smile reappeared on your face as you slowly extended your hand to retrieve the notebook from his hand. Looking up into his eyes, and his friendly smile, you accidentally grabbed his hand instead of the book. You were quick to remove your hand from his. In that moment, your heart skipped a beat.

“Oh! I am so sorry!”

You felt your cheeks turned a little more red than they already were from the cool breeze now blowing on your face.

“Thank you for your kindness and the offering of the umbrella. How will I ever get this back to you? Maybe you should take it will you. My sweater will protect me.”

Looking down at the sweater, you realize it was soaking wet and muddy from being on the ground. He laughed a little when he probably shouldn’t have, but he knew you just wanted to get out of there, without inconveniencing anyone. There was something about you that put a smile on his face. Just then, his heart skipped a beat too.

“I’m wearing layers, and I have a hood. I’m staying close by, so I’m not worried about getting wet. Please keep it.”

He extended his hand that held the umbrella out towards her, now fully standing in the rain that appeared to be letting up for the time being. You were still lost in his eyes and smile. You didn’t want to argue with him as he showed such kindness in that moment.

“I will be forever grateful for you and what you have done for me this morning. Thank you.”

Unsure of what else to say and feeling overwhelmingly bad for making him stand there in the rain, you slowly turned to start walking away from him until his voice stopped you.

“What is your name?”

Without hesitation you replied. “It’s Y/n.”

“Well y/n, I hope your day turns around.”

“Thank you”

You smiled again as you turned to walk away. With only a few steps between the two of you on that bridge, his voice stops you yet again, causing you to turn your head to look back at him.

“By the way, I’m Chris.”

You knew exactly who he was, as your face lit up from beneath the umbrella he gave her.

“Bye Chris…and thank you again.” You pick up your pace as you walked away, waving goodbye with that precious notebook in hand.

The steps between the two of you grew bigger and bigger. The distance separated you both to the point you couldn’t see each other anymore. Your heart started calling to you again. Feeling compelled to stop at the entrance of the park before stepping foot back to reality, you realized why you were supposed to be in the park that morning.

“It was him. Chris was the reason for all of this. Wasn’t it?”

In that moment your heart skipped a beat again. You knew exactly what your heart was saying, clear than ever, probably for the first time ever in your life.

From under the gifted umbrella, you looked back at the park entrance, hoping for a brief moment that he would be standing behind you, but he wasn’t. The honking of a taxi’s horn brought you back down to Earth, as the crosswalk light changed and you ran across to find shelter from the growing storm.

To be continued: Part II

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans #agirlcandream #chris evans x y/n

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tcm · 5 years ago

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Finding Peace in the Odd and Obscure By Rowan Tucker-Meyer

TCM Underground, which shows movies every Friday night at 2am ET, is TCM’s home for odd, obscure and delightful films from outside the mainstream. This month, one of the films TCM Underground will present is THE PYRAMID (‘76), an exceedingly unusual and fascinating film from director Gary Kent. You only have to look at the film’s poster to know exactly what kind of movie you’re about to watch: A woman wearing a shirt with a pyramid on it meditates in front of a larger pyramid, surrounded by a number of captivating taglines: “What does THE PYRAMID have to do with you?”; “For this engagement the theatres have been energized with pyramid power.”; “A positive mystical experience.” The poster promises a wild ride and THE PYRAMID does not disappoint.

The film opens with a sequence that is every bit as bold and surprising as the film itself. We watch as a bus driver and a number of young children start their day. They wake up, eat breakfast and head off to the school bus. Then, just as quickly as we are introduced to these characters, they are suddenly killed in a school bus crash. It is a jaw-dropping opening scene that makes the audience wonder: Did that seriously just happen? Why was this necessary? What am I watching? It’s not integral to the plot, it’s needlessly gruesome, even manipulative. But that’s exactly the point. As we come to realize, this scene is actually a perfect introduction to the issues that the protagonist, Chris Lowe (Charley Brown), faces throughout the film.

Chris is a cameraman for a TV news station, and he arrives at the crash to film a segment about it. The station he works for focuses mainly on shocking tragedies and crime, and he is becoming frustrated about having to work on these stories. This scene is representative of the kind of ugly sensationalism that Chris is used to producing, and the audience, so upset by this scene, comes to empathize with his disillusionment. When considered within this context, the opening sequence is actually quite brilliant. Like the whole film, it is a bit over-the-top and strange, but it ultimately has something thought-provoking to say.

Chris tries to break from the status quo by filming more interesting, hopeful stories. His subjects include a man who walks on fire and believes himself to have healing powers, an astronaut who discusses the possibility of intelligent extraterrestrial life and a man who constructs wooden pyramids that may “have an effect on our consciousness.” While his television station presents the bleakness and brutality of life, Chris looks for stories which suggest that perhaps people can transcend the grim reality and experience something beautiful and mysterious.

Everyone he works with has a cynical worldview, but his work is reflective of an abnormal optimism. One of these cynical colleagues is Chris’ best friend, reporter LaMoine Peabody aka L.A. Ray (a standout performance by Ira Hawkins). While Chris tries to improve or escape the TV news industry, LaMoine embraces it, becoming more successful and constantly watching himself on TV. As LaMoine becomes more deeply invested in his career and Chris searches for something better, we see their lives diverge: Chris eventually finds peace, but LaMoine’s story ends in tragedy.

There’s a lot to like about THE PYRAMID. It’s a very groovy movie, filled with a lovely 1970s atmosphere. It has a point of view and explores some unique themes that aren’t often depicted on film. It’s sometimes funny, sometimes disturbing, occasionally confusing, but always interesting. But ultimately, the best thing about THE PYRAMID might simply be its unabashed optimism. The message of the film seems to be that, in spite of all its sadness and horror, the world still has the potential to be wonderful and people still have the potential to be good. Is it a naïve message? Maybe. But the film is so beautifully made that this message ends up being quite convincing and uplifting. In troubling times, it can be refreshing to watch a movie where people sit in a wooden pyramid and sing together as the sun goes down.

There’s a scene late in the film where Chris shows his short films to the owner of a movie theater who angrily rejects them because they lack mass appeal, calling them “a waste of time.” TCM Underground is so valuable because it has the exact opposite attitude. It celebrates the weird, the independent, the overlooked. And for those of us who love those movies, THE PYRAMID is a real treat.

#The Pyramid #1970s #cult #underground #TCM Underground #TCM #Turner Classic Movies #Rowan Tucker-Meyer #positive #peace

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nahalism · 5 years ago

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Songs that make you want to experience love (of any kind) or remind you of it??

u just opened pandoras box.. like.. u think ur ready, but ur not ready. and i cant apologise for what im about to do because what song isnt a love song?.. you have proposed an existential question & for that i refuse to keep this uncompletable task concise. hold on 2 ur toupee, clutch ur peals 🤧

verdena // valvonauta

the nerves // hanging on the telephone

dionne warwick // walk on by

luther vandross // anyone who had a heart

stevie wonder // all in love is fair, never dreamed youd leave in summer, lately, superwoman (where were you when i needed you)

ms lauryn hill // i gotta find peace of mind

lenny williams // cause i love you

donny hathaway // ill love you more than you ever know (& the amy winehouse cover of this)

eva cassidy, autumn leaves

nina simone // you dont know what love is, just say i love him, you can have him, everything must change

chet baker // my funny valentine, almost blue, the autumn leaves

the police // roxanne

amy winehouse // take the box, wake up alone, you sent me flying, stronger than me

nat king cole // nature boy, smile, the very thought of you

etta james // id rather go blind

gladys knight & the pipps // midnight train to georgia

al green // how can you mend a broken heart, lets stay together

janis joplin // maybe

anita baker // angel

simply red // holding back the years, you make me feel brand new

luther vandross // a house is not a home

deniece williams // free, silly

boyz II men // i cant make you love me

michel’le // something in my heart

patrice rushen // remind me

toni braxton // another sad love song, breathe again

tamar braxton // all the way home, love and war

the delfonics // lala means i love you, hey love

bobby womack // if you think your lonely now

rick james ft teena marie // fire and desire

the gap band // yearning for your love

jahiem // ghetto love, could it be

mariah carey // anytime you need a friend, my all

tamia // stuck with me, so into you

shai // if i ever

new edition // can you stand the rain, if it isnt love

ATL // make it up with love

blackstreet // dont leave me

bow wow // let me hold you, my baby

jhene aiko // feel like a man, wait no more, my mine, you vs them

twenty88 // 2 minute warning

corrine bailey rae // the whole of her self titled album

yebba // my mind

neyo // do you, part of the list

erykah badu // green eyes, other side of the game, next lifetime, in love with you, out my mind just in time

keyshia cole // send from heaven, love, i should have cheated, trust and believe

whitney houston // i learned from the best, run to you, saving all my love, im your baby tonight

michael jackson // lady in my life, break of dawn, butterlies, baby be mine, keep it in the closet, who is it, give in to me, rock with you .. etc etc etc

abba // lay all your love on me

seal // kiss from a rose

patrick swayze // shes like the wind

phil collins // in the air tonight

the police // roxanne

tracy chapman // fast car, baby can i hold you

james blunt // 1973

chris isaak // wicked game

fleetwood mac // rihannon, dreams janis ian // at 17

googoo dolls // iris (duh)

oasis // wonderwall (duhh x2)

dido // white flag

joni mitchell // both sides now, a case of you

randy crawford // almaz, one day ill fly away

little dragon // never never, twice

lana del rey // video games, blue jeans

london grammar // hey i, wasting my young years

ellie goulding // starry eyes (acoustic), guns & horses (acoustic)

avril lavigne // when your gone, im with you

paramore // misguided ghosts, decode

hiatus kaiyote // the lung

jorja smith // wandering romance, goodbyes

kelsey lu // dreams

kelela // all the way down, turn to dust, enough, better, take me apart

king krule // slush puppy, many more

SiR ft masego // ooh nah nah

fka twigs // papi pacify

steve lacy // dark red

iamddb // more

abra // pride

sonder x brent faiyaz // lovely

pharoah sanders // harvest time

james blake // wilhelm scream

portico quartet // the visitor

kokoroko // ti de

funkadelic // maggot brain, ill stay

collard // everglade

feng suave // honey theres no time, by the poolside

mac demarco // still beating, my kind of woman, let her go, let my baby stay, one more love song

connan mockasin // do i make you feel shy

gas dapperton // prune, you talk funny

blood orange // saint, out of your league, best to you, never good enough

majid jordan // her, u, king city, warm

japanese breakfast // triple 7, the woman that loves you, everybody wants to love you

frank ocean // higgs *or just insert his whole discog*

daniel ceasar // japanese denim

xavier omar // speculate

sza // pretty little birds, caretaker ft dram, babylon, warm winds, 2 am, passport

jeremih // british headboards, worthy ft. jhene aiko, raindrops, & obvs bday sex

j cole // runaway, shes mine pt1 & 2

travis scott // astrothunder

drake // come winter, cameras/good ones go, doing it wrong, east district... anything ending in interlude .. *again, insert practically any of his songs*

tory lanez // 1 call

partynextdoor // tbh, wus good/curious, west district, rendezvous, wednesday night interlude, persian rugs, spiteful, cant let the summer pass, her way, thirsty, muse, the right way

serani // do you good (!!!)

miguel // girl with the dragon tattoo, pussy is mine

vybz kartel & gaza slim // anything a anything

movado // when yuh feel lonely

nicki minaj // save me, i lied, autobiography

tokio hotel // monsoon

my chemical romance // the ghost of you, helena

nickelback // how you remind me & someday

whilst she sleeps // seven hills, our courage our cancer

pierce the veil // stained glass eyes and colourful tears, i dont care if your contageous, im low on gas and you need a life jacket, southern constellations, the new national anthem, bulls in the bronx, caraphernalia, disasterology

(& lol dont roast me but id b lying if i didnt include dem)

vanessa ann hugends // say ok :)

lmnt // open your eyes

edward mccain // ill be

jesse mccartney // im leavin (lol dont roast me)

lindsay lohan freaky friday songz (?) // the ultimate, take me away

#ask #🖤

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rowanfoster · 4 years ago

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{ odeya rush ♔ twenty-three ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t rowan foster running around peach hollow. legend has it, she comes from tangerine towers and has lived here her entire life. if you’re wondering what she’s been up to, i hear she’s a make up artist / freelance musician for a living. she has been known to be impulsive yet insightful. a word of advice to her, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching.

why yes, it is i, admin kim, with another character that should’ve been kept in the drafts of my mind. if you’ve not met daysia or serenity, here’s a lil low down on me. i’m 26, i use she/her pronouns, and live on the east coast. i thrive on writing angst and my animal crossing villagers being happy. also caffeine. i luv chris klemens. most likely to have a mental breakdown on twitter. meet rowan! trigger warnings for mental illness, bipolar disorder specifically, and inpatient treatment

have a playlist and a pinterest board dedicated to her

rowan celeste foster was born may 27th, 1996. she’s the oldest of two, a baby sister coming to the scene in 1999.

her family is extremely close. they’ve been in peach hollow their whole lives. she grew up in a crowded house on blueberry boulevard, crammed in with her mother, father, sister, maternal grandmother and maternal grandfather. rowan never knew peace or privacy growing up – it just wasn’t possible with that many people which has really contributed to her somewhat isolated adulthood

her mother is a charge nurse at peach hollow general, working on the emergency room floor. her father is a retired car salesman. her grandparents moved into the house when her sister was born in order to help take care of the girls while their parents worked full time. rowan is especially grateful for their care, because she feels like she’d be a little more sour had she been raised by absent parents.

growing up, she shared a room with her younger sister. they told each other everything because they had no choice not to. they both developed an interest in make up and music at very young ages, but rowan particularly took to those things while maci took more interest in sports. when rowan was gifted her first ukulele at age 6, maci got her first basketball. they are polar opposites, but maci was the only person rowan really confided in as a child and an adolescent.

she’d always been rather moody. tantrums and fits were nearly unavoidable. her self esteem lacked before she even had a chance to develop any confidence. she was always the try hard, the girl who stood out because she was just a little different, the emotional one, the one the other kids didn’t want to mess with, not because she’d fight back, but because she would absolutely lose it. there were countless times where rowan ended up in the guidance counselor’s office, waiting on her grandmother to show up and bring her home. that was the beginning of their problems.

her mental health really started to decline in her mid teenage years. she spent hours upon hours in her room, writing songs, playing guitar, practicing make up looks – she’d go days without sleeping and snap at anyone who crossed her path. she got into screaming matches with everyone in the house, only to find herself crying in her bed for the next few days. she started missing days at a time from school, while her artistry thrive, the rest of her crumbled. her grades, all of it.

eventually, this resulted in her parents yanking her out of peach hollow high and putting her in counseling, which lead her to a psychiatrist and a diagnosis of bipolar disorder at the age of 17. while it made sense, she dreaded taking the medications. they numbed everything. her writing suffered, and while her moods weren’t swinging from the trees anymore, she feared that this empty feeling was worse.

she finished her high school diploma in homeschooling with her grandmother while maci went on to thrive in school. the attention shifted to her, and rowan couldn’t really blame them. she turned 18 and started performing in clubs, bars, and anywhere she could get in. ps her voice is a mix of bishop briggs & mary lambert. the thrill of performing to small crowds sucked her in. she began to gain an even smaller following on social media, mainly the locals following her. every once in a while she’ll book a show in atlanta and she’ll make the long drive just to sing in front of a bit of a larger crowd. she’ll gain a few followers from those shows, but this still isn’t her main source of income.

most of her money comes from the make up artistry she does through pop of peach. she doesn’t go in every day, but when someone has an event scheduled or needs their make up done for a dance or something, she’s there. she tries to spread things out bc she’s always late lmao and finds it hard to stick to a schedule

she was doing so well for a few years, even moved out of her parents’ house and into an apartment at the towers. that’s where she really found herself, made some real friends and built relationships that were good for her. however, she missed a few doctor’s appointments and was discharged from her psychiatrist’s office. she went off meds, and for a few weeks it was fine. when she ran out of meds, the next few weeks were okay as well. it was when every single drop of medication had drained from her body that things got bad.

rowan was missing appointments she scheduled at pop of peach. she was spending far too much time out at nights, giving in to alcohol for the most part. she tried not to touch any drugs, but drinking became a nightly thing. she’d perform, then spend the rest of the night partying with whoever she could find at the venue.

one night in atlanta after a particularly shaky performance, rowan found herself in a dark place and simply went into the women’s bathroom to calm down, but police say they found her laying flat on the ground, refusing to respond to anyone. she vaguely remembers the end of the manic episode, but it did land her in the emergency room for a change in mental status.

much to her chagrin, they admitted her overnight before transporting her to skyland trail, a mental health facility in atlanta. she spend about two and a half months there getting medications regulated and learning new coping mechanisms. she was discharged about two weeks ago and finally made it back to peach hollow and her apartment.

she’d lead everyone other than her family and maybe one or two other people that she was away on a musician’s retreat, but really, was in inpatient treatment.

she’s currently working full time as a make up artist at pop of peach and performing when she can, but doesn’t really go outside of peach hollow

fun facts & personality

rowan despises small talk. conversations about the weather or political climate don’t stimulate her and she gets snarky pretty easily. it isn’t that she wants to come off rude or unapproachable, but nine times out of ten, small talk is fake and she feels as though she doesn’t have the time or energy to indulge in it. ask her about the sky or some shit. she won’t shut up

she has a tendency to overshare, aside from what’s been going on in the past few months. her lips are sealed tight about that. however, she’s open to talking about her mental health and is a big advocate for erasing the stigma. this makes rowan a very good listener and a huge supportive presence for anyone struggling. she’s the mom friend, and no matter what time of day or night, if someone says they need an ear, she’ll go to them. she knows what it’s like to be alone.

despite her past and her demons, rowan finds a way to put on a smile. it might often be snarky or sarcastic, but rarely is it insincere. she’s an empath and feels everything so very deeply, but can easily put it away when necessarily.

her apartment is her safe haven. she rarely has company. it isn’t really her thing. she prefers to go to other people’s places. she has her record collection proudly displayed on her living room wall, all the plants you can imagine, incense burning whenever she’s home, and a scottish fold munchkin cat named loonette after her favorite childhood tv show, the big comfy couch. she has hopes to get another cat named molly to match. you know, because we’re all clowns !

she takes great pride in her instagram. it sounds superficial, but often times, rowan will post a good picture and then link to her next show in hopes that somebody will come based on that. while she does have a passion for make up and a second instagram for it, ultimately, she’d like for there to come a time where she can live solely on the money she makes through music

catch her driving her old ass ford focus blaring 00s alternative, mainly fuckin paramore bc she’s heart eyes for hayley williams

wanted connections if ya made it this far!!!!

childhood friends – those who she’s known since elementary school. they’ve most likely watched her go through her many trials and tribulations in class. these could be acquaintances, close friends, or even a ride or die or two.

bullies – people who fucked with her through school. it’s essential that they’re on bad terms currently, but perhaps an enemy turned friend or romantic could be fun??

group therapy pal – this would be super fun and might entail the person finding out about her secret…. msg me for deets

exes – there will be a couple of these, gender does not matter. i’d like to find one that she was dating when she went into treatment and maybe hasn’t seen/spoken to them since they’ve been back, first love, high school sweetheart?? omg possibilities are endless

flirtationship – self explanatory, gender doesn’t matter she’s pan

any other ideas literally lmk!! thanks for reading ♥

#ok.... one more time kngrdjsnh

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lycorogue · 5 years ago

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ML Secret Santa Story: The Great Debate

Holy smokes, it’s 2am! Uh, I wanted to have this done by Christmas Eve, but I guess an official Merry Christmas to my @mlsecretsanta giftee @mouserzwuzhere is now in order. So... Merry Christmas!

Sorry for the delay, it actually kept me most of this month to lock down what I wanted to write. In the end, I ended up going with something inspired by a Tumblr post. Of course, I can’t find the post now to link it, but it talked about the logistical fallacy of most Christmas movies where Santa is canonically real, but adults still don’t believe in him.

I went with mouserz preferences of fluff, friendship/family bonding, and LadyNoir. I hope this ends up being a pleasant surprise for you under your digital Christmas tree this morning. :D

UPDATE (12/25/19): You can now find the story on AO3, on FFN, and on DA as well as below.

The Great Debate

Summary: When Ladybug agreed to meet up later with Chat Noir, she never imagined they would end up discussing the validity of Santa being real. It’s funny the things you do for your loved ones.

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 4032

Status: Completed one-shot

Disclaimer: I’m ignoring the two-part season 3 finale with regards to Master Fu; pretend this takes place before that....

Ladybug breathed in the chilled, crisp night air. Her breath escaped in a thin fog. Her supersuit kept her warm, but her cheeks still flushed with the bite of wind as she swung through the city. Thankfully, the snow recently ceased, and the air was calm. Once she was at her destination she would be warmer.

Looking down the long roofs of the office buildings, she spotted a figure already perched six buildings down the street. He was there. He was waiting for her. She shifted the weight of the package nestled in the crook of her left arm, and sprinted towards her meet-up.

Chat Noir lazily kicked his legs as he leaned back on the tower roof's ledge, staring up at the sky; looking for stars he couldn't see. He hummed “Silent Night” to himself, and was on the third verse when Ladybug landed behind him.

“You're late, Bugaboo.”

“Don't-” It was on reflex, but there was no akuma around now. She simply sighed, and shook her head. “Sorry. I wanted to get something for you first.” She held out her package: a box of Tom & Sabine Bakery macarons. It was risky to bring them to Chat Noir, but it was also a bit of an impromptu meet-up.

Earlier that day, for the second Christmas Eve in a row, Hawk Moth decided to not take a vacation, and akumatized a poor distraught person. As they were fighting, Chat Noir seemed more distracted than usual, exchanging his usual ill-timed flirting for requests that they hang out again later. The more the battle wore on, the more Ladybug picked up that perhaps this get-together was something Chat Noir truly needed.

Then they defeated the villain. Ladybug purified the akuma, and used her ultimate power to restore Paris. The duo fist-bumped in front of the rush of reporters capturing the latest attack on their beloved city. Ladybug's earrings chimed that she only had two minutes remaining, and soon after Chat Noir's ring beeped for the second time. She couldn't say anything to him in front of the reporters; couldn't let Hawk Moth potentially know where they would be. Instead, she gave him a silent plead to forgive her abruptness, and swung away. Once out of sight, she used the last few precious seconds of her transformation to text Chat Noir where to meet up. She prayed that he would get the message before de-transforming.

It seemed he did.

She didn't have much time to plan a Christmas gift for Chat Noir. She didn't imagine an opportunity to gift him anything. It would be far too inappropriate while they were actively attempting to protect Paris, and she didn't want Chat Noir to get the wrong idea if she asked him for a meet-up for a gift exchange. She didn't have the time to make anything, and she barely had the time to purchase anything; most stores were already closed for the holiday. She lucked out that her parents had anything left in their bakery.

“Huh. Great minds, it seems, M'lady.” Chat Noir smirked as he grabbed a matching pastry box he had hidden beside his right hip. His contained a pair of over-stuffed cream puffs. He brushed the snow off the ledge beside him and patted the now-bare roof.

Ladybug studied Chat Noir. She sprinted through the list of patrons she saw in her parents' bakery that day, trying to remember any young men with blonde hair. None came to mind. Perhaps he had bought the cream puffs while she was in her room. Maybe that was why he was so persistent with wanting a meet-up.

“Great minds indeed.” Ladybug hummed inquisitively, but still accepted the cleared-off seat. Holding out her box to Chat Noir, she traded peppermint macarons for her puff.

“Mmm.” Chat Noir popped the macaron in his mouth in one bite. “I guess it makes sense that we'd both pick pastries from the Tom & Sabine. It is the best bakery in all of Paris, after all.”

Ladybug lightly blushed, and hoped her cheeks were already red enough from the cold for Chat Noir to not notice. “I'm sure they'd appreciate hearing that, especially from a superhero.”

“You should tell them too, then.”

She had never thought of that. “Perhaps I'll take the time to do so.” She bit into her cream puff, and quickly licked up the filling oozing out of the opposite side.

Chat Noir popped another macaron in his mouth. “Thank you for meeting up with me tonight.”

Ladybug stilled, looking deeply at Chat Noir. “You sounded like you needed it. Is everything alright?”

“It is now.” He gave her a sad little smile, and then scraped some cream out of the center of his puff.

“It's Christmas Eve, Kitty. Wouldn't you rather spend it with loved ones?”

“I thought I was.”

“Come on, be serious, Chat Noir.”

He put down his treats, and instead scooped up Ladybug's right hand, keeping her gaze. “I am serious. Please tell me that you know by now that I'm always serious with every love confession.”

“Chat Noir-”

He dropped her hand and scooted further away from her. “I know, I know. You're in love with someone else. I understand that, but it doesn't lessen my feelings for you, and how dear you are to me.”

“Kitty.”

Clearing his throat, he tossed another macaron in the air, and caught it in his mouth. “Sorry I'm keeping you from your loved ones, though.”

Ladybug rested a hand on his shoulder. “You're not. You're dear to me too, remember?”

They finished their treats with small, simple, stupid conversation. They talked about nothing in particular, for fear of giving something away that would reveal themselves, and yet they said a lot with the way they each talked about being a superhero, or how they felt about the past year, or even about the weather.

“How could you not love the snow?” Ladybug gathered the empty pastry boxes, and tucked them beside her.

“It's lonely.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Most people stay inside; isolated in their homes. Paris isn't as bustling as normal. It's quiet.”

“See, that's one of the things I like about the snow.” Ladybug scooped some off the roof, and started packing it into a ball. “It absorbs sound, you know. That's why Paris seems so quiet and serene when it snows. The lights then reflect off the crisp white, and the city just seems clean and new. It seems safe.”

“It is safe, with you as its savior.”

“Yeah, well you're not too bad yourself there, Kitty.” They shared a smile. “Besides, snow isn't lonely. It's inviting. Families huddle together to drink cocoa as they watch the snow. Friends play together making snow angels or snowmen, or race on sleds, or build forts together, or have snowball fights.”

Chat Noir's face fell, so Ladybug threw her freshly formed snowball at his shoulder.

“Hey!” He quickly packed his own snowball, but Ladybug was faster and hit him with another one. “Okay! Okay, I submit!” He dropped his snowball, and held his hands over his head.

“Haven't you ever just played in the snow? How could you not feel the magic of it while you dance under a soft snow fall, or catch flakes on your tongue, or simply lay in the cold silence, just feeling at peace with the world?”

“I'll have to keep all of those in mind the next time it snows.”

“Good.”

Another soft, shared look as they each offered the other a gentle smile.

Church bells softly rang in the distance; breaking the spell as Chat Noir turned to the sound.

“It's getting late. Should we head home? Don't want to chance Santa passing us up since we aren't asleep.”

“Wait, Santa?”

“Yeah. You think he's in the area already? I mean, I really couldn't ask for a better gift than to spend time with you, M'lady, but I wouldn't want to push my luck with the Big Guy in Red.”

“Chat Noir, do you still believe in Santa Claus?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, and playfully smirked.

“I mean, are you telling me you don't?” His face scrunched up as he stared incredulously at her. “We literally saw him! Twice!”

“First of all, those were both during akuma attacks, so who truly knows what is and isn't real during those? Secondly, Santa Claws seemed to just be a friendly old man who dressed up as Santa; not Jolly Old Saint Nick himself, and his 'Santa' powers were because of the akumatization. So he doesn't count. Finally, I'd hate to break it to you, but the Santa we met when Paris was overwhelmed by giant attacking toys wasn't real. It was Chris Master's powers manifesting his interpretation of Santa: the Santa in his snow globe.” Ladybug rested a comforting hand on Chat Noir's arm.

“How do you know that wasn't the real Santa? He said he'd see us next Christmas Eve; tonight!”

“He said that because it was what Chris wanted Santa to say.”

“How do you know that, though?”

Ladybug's breath hitched, and she simply shrugged. “What? You can have Cat Intuition about how the Agreste mansion security works or the fact that Volpina had an illusion instead of the actual Adrien Agreste, but I can't have Ladybug Intuition about whether or not that was the real Santa?”

Chat Noir studied her for a tell, but eventually caved. “Okay, you got me on that second meet-up with Santa; that probably wasn't the real one. Although, you were the top of his Nice list, so maybe you should hope that your Ladybug Intuition was off, and that was really him.” He winked. She groaned. “Either way, he looked a lot like the man who got akumatized into Santa Claws, which means it could be possible that the man last Christmas was in fact the true Santa, but was posing as a regular citizen.”

“Why? Especially on Christmas Eve itself? Wouldn't he be too busy delivering gifts?” Ladybug tried to keep the smug look off her face, but Chat Noir's lips kept puckering more and more with each question. She could tell that he was trying to build up a rebuttal.

Chat Noir opened his mouth to respond, pointing at her in stunned silence. A second later he relented, shrugging in defeat instead. “Alright, so maybe we haven't met the actual Santa, but that doesn't mean he's not real.”

“He might have been, once. There could have been someone who spent Christmas Eve delivering gifts to the children of a very large area – so that it felt like it was the whole world to those people – and the legend of Santa came from that, but I don't know if I trust that he's still real.”

“Well, why not? I knew you could be pragmatic, but even this seems a bit much for you.”

“He'd be well over a millennium old, for starters.”

“Yeah, but what about Master Fu?”

“There's a bit of a difference between two-hundred and two-thousand years, Chat Noir.”

“Still, Master is as old as he is largely because of the magic of the Miraculouses, isn't he?”

“Possibly.”

“So why is it such a stretch that Santa has magic of his own, and part of it is the long life, or even immortality? The Miraculouses can't be the only form of magic within the whole world, can they?”

She gave it thought. “Alright, valid point. What about the gifts, though?”

Chat Noir lounged across the roof and dismissively waved his hand. “I already told you: magic. He probably has a bag with access to a pocket dimension or some-”

“No.”

Chat Noir rocked his head to the side. Ladybug pivoted to face him, folding her legs in front of her as she anchored her hands to her ankles.

“No,” she repeated, “I'm not even talking about the plausibility of him carrying all the gifts with him or getting in and out of people's homes. If I'm going to agree with him nearing two-thousand years old because of magic, I'll concede on those other magical parts.”

“Okay, so what's wrong with the presents then?”

Ladybug scooted closer to Chat Noir and leaned a little towards him, energy buzzing off of her. “If Santa Claus truly delivers presents every Christmas Eve, then why is it that most adults don't believe in him? Wouldn't him delivering gifts to their children convince the parents that he's real? Since a large portion – probably even a majority – of adults are also parents, wouldn't someone somewhere have factual evidence of his existence by now? Or, at least, wouldn't it be a much more widespread belief, even among adults, that he's alive?”

Chat Noir sat up, hugging one leg to his chest. His eyebrows furrowed, and he wouldn't look at Ladybug.

“I mean, think about it,” Ladybug continued, rolling onto her knees as she began to gesture wildly. “You and your wife wake up Christmas morning, and gather around the tree with your kid- You're picturing me as your wife, and imagining what our kid would look like, aren't you?”

Chat Noir sheepishly smiled and shrugged.

“Never mind that. Not the point.” Ladybug waved the thought away. “So your kid is opening up gifts, finds one that is labeled 'from Santa,' and unwraps it. You don't recognize this gift. You haven't purchased it for your kid. You may just think your wife must have gotten it and not told you, so you let it go. But this keeps happening every year, so you finally ask your wife, and she tells you she always thought you were the one who bought those gifts, because she certainly didn't. Isn't that suspicious? A random present from neither of you managed to make its way under your tree? Every year? Wouldn't you want to figure out who put it there? And you hear your friends – who are also parents – saying the same thing happened for each of their kids. Wouldn't that alone be enough evidence for most parents to believe that Santa must be real, because what other explanation is there for the mystery gifts?”

Chat Noir tapped his chin with two fingers, scanning the clouds for answers. “Yeah, I guess that's true.”

“On the flip-side, if Santa doesn't actually leave any presents - so that parents don't question where they came from - then why does it matter if he's real, because he still isn't going to be coming to everyone's houses unless it's to eat the cookies.”

“I got it!” Chat Noir snapped and turned back towards Ladybug, he was also up on his knees, waving excitedly. “Magic again.”

“How so?”

“Santa's magic is memory focused. He doesn't actually use chimneys – which really helps explain all those homes without fire places – instead, he arrives just before the parents lock up for the night, and he uses his magic to make them believe they already did. He then enters, leaves the present, and locks the door behind him as he goes on his merry way. His magic then makes the parents believe they had munched on the cookies to give the illusion of Santa, and that they were the ones who purchased the gift for little Julien. The question of 'who got him that present' never comes up, and Santa still remains a glorious holiday mystery.”

“What if the parents, still disbelieving of Santa, already bought little Mary a gift from 'Santa' and already ate the cookies before going to bed?”

“Then Santa saves on unneeded calories, and he switches up the 'Santa' for 'Mom and Dad'. Then his power works exactly the same way; except this time it also makes them think they didn't label the one gift as from 'Santa' at first.”

“It's still too many homes to leave presents for in one night.” Ladybug sat on her heels and crossed her arms.

“I thought you were going to concede on all of the 'other magic stuff'?”

Ladybug shrugged.

“Okay.” Chat Noir thought for a moment. “What if his powers also allows him to teleport? Or to slow time? Or to pause time? We have Miraculouses that could do some pretty crazy things, after all.” Chat Noir's ears perked and his belt-tail twitched as if it were real. “Wait a minute! What if Santa has a Miracle Box? That feast amuk was encased in stone before leaving Tibet, and we stopped it while it was still in Paris, so what if it didn't have a chance to make it to Santa to eat his Miraculous?”

“Master would have told me if Santa was one of the guardians.”

“What if he didn't know? What if there were Guardians secretly placed throughout the world, and for their safety, the monastery Master Fu trained at didn't have their names?”

“And he only uses the Miraculous once a year to provide extra Christmas gifts?”

Chat Noir started counting out his points on his fingers. “He's not using the Miraculous for his personal gain, so it's not breaking any rules. He's providing joy and wonderment to the world. He's making sure every kid gets at least one gift they'll love, regardless of the parents' financial or emotional standing. We don't know what he does with the rest of the year, so maybe he's protecting the world just like us, but with his memory-altering Miraculous powers, the world just never figures it out.”

Ladybug simply stared at Chat Noir. He held his ground and kept her gaze.

“Alright.” Ladybug pivoted on the roof ledge, and dangled her legs below her. “I relent that there's a possibility that Santa is real.”

“And a Miraculous Guardian?”

“It's a stretch, but I guess I can't argue against it. Not right now, anyway.”

“So does that mean you'll wait up for him?”

“No, that means there's no point. If he is real, and he does have a way of altering memories, then I doubt he'd let either of us remember seeing him. He's been doing this for over seventeen-hundred years, after all.” She gave Chat Noir a side smile.

“I guess that's true.” Chat Noir deflated a little and sat beside her.

“Besides, I thought you wanted to go to bed so you didn't chance missing out on your gift from him,” she teased.

Chat Noir curled into himself and blushed, again unable to look at Ladybug. She instantly knew she went too far. She couldn't say goodbye to him like that.

Ladybug detached her yo-yo, and looked intently at it. Chat Noir followed her out of the corner of his eye.

“Ladybug?”

She gave him the tiniest hint of a devilish grin while pressing a finger to her lips and shushing him. “Don't tell on me, okay?”

“Tell?”

Ladybug threw her yo-yo straight up, calling out “Lucky Charm!”

“What are you doing?” Chat Noir again hopped up onto his knees as he studied her. “What about no personal gain?”

The charm landed in Ladybug's hand, and she closed her fist around it before Chat Noir could make out the small red object with black spots.

“I think this one can be allowed.” Ladybug re-attached her yo-yo to her hip, and stood on the main portion of the roof. With Chat Noir still seated on the ledge, they were about eye-level.

He tried to spy her charm, but she kept her hand hidden behind her back. “So, what convoluted plan do you have for that?” He stood to try to look over her shoulder, but she blocked him with a stiff arm.

“Nothing too bad. Now sit back down.” She pushed gently on his chest, and he plopped his butt back onto the roof ledge. “Perfect.”

She then placed her hand in between them and unfolded her fingers. Resting on her palm was a tiny sprig of mistletoe, although, with the red coloring and black spots, it looked more like holly. With her spare hand, Ladybug held the Lucky Charm mistletoe sprig over their heads, then leaned in to kiss Chat Noir. Giddily, he rose to meet her, his hands reaching out for her waist as he puckered up and eyes fluttered closed.

She giggled, and used a finger to turn his head so she could kiss him on the cheek instead.

Chat Noir pouted and sunk back onto the roof. “You're supposed to kiss on the lips under a mistletoe.”

“Sorry, Kitty, but I do still love someone else.” She flicked his bell, and placed the sprig of mistletoe beside them. “I will give you one more gift though.” She cupped a hand on either side of his face, and pulled it towards her. Angling his head down a bit, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and then rested hers against it. “Merry Christmas, Kitty.”

Chat Noir wrapped his arms around Ladybug and squeezed her close to him; breathing her in. “Thank you, Ladybug. Merry Christmas to you, too.”

She let him hold her for a moment, and she held him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. With their eyes closed, and the normally bustling city quiet with snow, it didn't feel like there was anyone else in all of Paris but the two of them. It only lasted a moment, but it was calming for them both.

He's right here, Ladybug thought, he's not Chat Blanc, and I'll stop him from ever feeling that desperate and alone.

She's here, Chat Noir thought, she loves someone else, but for right now she's here and I can pretend for a few seconds that I'm the one she's in love with.

The thought didn't make Chat Noir purr, as it usually did; instead, a small whimper escaped his throat.

“Chat Noir?” Ladybug leaned away from him, breaking the illusion.

“Sorry. I had a moment, but I'm fine. Thank you again for spending time with me tonight.”

“No problem, Kitty. As long as you don't want us to make a habit out of this.” She ruffled up his hair until he broke his hug in a giggling retreat. “You are a friend of mine, Chat Noir,” Ladybug continued in a serious tone. “I want to be here for you whenever you need me, and I do enjoy spending time with you, as long as you're not flirting.” She cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest.

Chat Noir meekly smiled back as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Is my flirting really that bad?”

She simply raised the second eyebrow and pursed her lips.

“In love with another guy,” Chat Noir sighed, “Right.”

She took his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “You'll find someone. I promise. She'll see the amazing Chat Noir that I do, but she'll get to know your actual name, and her heart will be only for you.”

Before Chat Noir could respond – and Ladybug knew he wanted to – she let go, and lassoed a nearby light post. “Merry Christmas again, Chat Noir.”

He gave her a genuine smile in return. “Merry Christmas, M'lady.” He said nothing else, and Ladybug was grateful. Her earrings started rapidly beeping. It had only been about three minutes, but Tikki always seemed to wear out faster if Ladybug used her Lucky Charm for personal reasons. She probably didn't have much time left.

“Let me know if you do catch Santa,” Ladybug teased. She then scooped up the empty pastry boxes, and loosened the tension on her yo-yo, sling-shotting her through the Paris skyline.

Chat Noir looked at the discarded Lucky Charm sprig of mistletoe, and brought it up to his lips. The trinket cut their evening together short, but it was worth it for those kisses, and that hug. A couple of seconds later, the sprig burst into pink glitter that vanished in the air; like a miniature firework. Ladybug must have de-transformed, and the Lucky Charm vanished with her other superpowers.

Chat Noir no longer had his keepsake from the night, but he had his memories. Those were enough, and he trusted he'd make many more with Ladybug over the years.

Now he had to figure out how to capture Santa so he could prove to his lady that he was right.

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hoshizoranoseirei-a · 4 years ago

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P. Hale | Teen Wolf

Muse Name: Peter Michaelis Hale

Other Names: N/A

Face Claim: Ian Bohen

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Age: 42

Birthday: October 27th

Species: Born Werewolf

Sexual Preference: Bisexual

Family: Tali Hale [sister, deceased], Derek Hale [nephew], Cora Hale [niece], Laura Hale [niece, deceased], Malia Hale [daughter]

Abilities: Shapeshifting [charcoal grey wolf], enhanced healing, reflexes and senses, pain transference, memory transference

History: Peter was born roughly ten years after his well beloved sister, Talia. There was a time when Peter thought perhaps there were other siblings between himself and his eldest sister, but the names and the like have since left him in the years since the fire. From a young age, he was often left out of the many activities despite his strength. A fast learner when it came to battle strategy and hunting, his role of appearance as just a normal kid when around the townfolk was a slightly harder destination for him. The pack took to those who adapted to both much more easily; wanting to keep hunters off their scent if possible. Peter, for all his understanding of why he needed to act human, felt a rift beginning to form. In his free time, he would explore the woods, finding little places no one had found on the vast Hale property, including a few places he would use later on in his life. His favorite place was a little hidden waterfall. It wasn’t vast or even very tall in comparison to others he had seen in pictures and books, but it was calm and peaceful and there was a fair amount of lush green to hide not only his scent but the very location of the fall. It became his biggest comfort when things went awry.

His father wasn’t kind by any stretch of the word. In fact, more often than not, the man’s frustrations with the other children, the “good kids”, would be unleashed on Peter as a stand in. Peter just took it, knowing no one in the pack would believe him anyway. They had done their best to shun him since he had learned a sense of control over his inner wolf that was uncanny because he wasn’t evolved, which was a hard trait in and of itself to receive. He spent many nights laying in his bathroom as wounds healed so he could clean without anyone’s notice. After a few years, Peter had a few young nieces and nephews he would tend to from time to time, but mostly he kept to himself. He continued to explore, eventually finding an old shack looking place that he began to rebuild in secret, eventually making a little house with working lights and keeping a path to the fall open from the little area around his home. Once it was complete, he often spent nights there, hidden from his family and buried in a mound of books about everything from old rituals to forgotten languages.

Academically, Peter excelled. By the time he was graduating Middle school, he was a star athlete, being recruited into the Beacon Hills High School basketball program with hardly a blink. He was the master of five languages by the time he met one Chris Argent; a young teen that Peter felt an instant connection to, drawn to the other male like a moth to flame. He found a good friend in Chris, someone who understood him and cared even when no one else did. Peter didn’t dare let anyone see he had a friend, let alone that he was falling for a human - he was already a disgrace in the family for his strange balance between human and wolf. So whenever they wanted to study, they would meet at a park or something of the sort. Eventually Peter showed Chris his little cabin, letting the other teen stay over, content to have Chris’ scent linger in a space only the two of them had. However, that content feeling began to vanish after a while, both human and wolf wanting more with Chris than just friends. With unsure reluctance, Peter found a way to tell Chris, stunned to find the other felt the same. The two knew it was something no one could ever know about, with Chris’ family being hunters and Peter’s family, although not violent or harmful, being werewolves.

Keeping their relationship hidden wasn’t hard; the pack Peter belonged to often didn’t realize he was gone as long as he was there for meals and Chris’ family wasn’t really talked about. Peter never pressed about them, knowing he really didn’t know anything about his family anymore aide from the fact that Talia was now alpha, and that he had more nephews and nieces around. Living separated from their respective worlds became a safe haven for Peter. Forgetting about the expectations of his pack, such as his supposedly new role as pack enforcer, gave Peter a kind of peace. He wanted to keep people safe, but not a t the cost of his own will should his alpha command it. He fell further for the younger male than he could have expected, not thinking that anyone could ever find out or even suspect how close he and Chris truly were. At least until he was ambushed after a practice and taken somewhere secluded, where he finally met the patriarch, Gerard. The meeting wasn’t warm, in fact, it was to give Peter one chance to keep Chris alive. He could leave and Chris’ life would be spared, or he could continue to see the young hunter and watch as Gerard himself cut the boy in two before he burned the entire pack. Fear for his mate took over, and Peter was petrified of watching Chris die in any way, let alone at the hands of his own father, so agreed to leave. He was young and stupid, and his worry for Chris kept him from realizing he could ask Chris to leave with him, cut all ties to both their families and just stay together. Leaving led him to the mountains for a while, where his balance wavered between which had more influence. When he returned, his oldest nephew had a human interest, and Peter longed to keep the pain he’d felt at losing Chris from happening to Derek, so he helped set up a way to make it happen, but it didn’t work, and in the end, Peter began trusting his wolf side more. And then Kate showed back up. Peter knew the scent, could see what was happening. Gerard wasn’t going to follow through with the entire agreement.

He immediately went to Talia, trying to explain what was going to happen without revealing his bond to Chris, but to no avail. Much like his childhood, he was merely a pawn under his sister. And when the fire occurred, the screams and smell of burning flesh surrounding him, Peter felt a sense of betrayal and sought to get out first before coming back for others. He managed to find a way out, but was trapped under a collapsing beam and although dragged out and kept alive, his body fell into a coma. The inner wolf had control, working to heal the burns so severe Peter should have died. Trapped, Peter was unable to do anything as what was left of his pack disbanded, disappearing until the only visits he got were from doctors and nurses to check his vitals and how well the burns were healing. Left to the silence of his own mind, the human side of Peter was lost more and more with each passing day until at last the wolf had full and unrestricted access to everything Peter was. And the results were not going to be pretty. Quite literally out of his mind, Peter began searching for a way to boost what little healing was left. He ended up killing his niece, Laura, who was also the pack alpha. The strength was such a surge that the side in control lost it’s grip and Peter ended up a cold, almost heartless monster. He killed anyone responsible that he could find, regardless of how close they were to the start of or the cover up of the blaze.

When the Argents returned to town, the monster Peter had become was aware time was almost up, and it was ready for the final battle. It found its way into having a pack; turning a young teen named Scott in the process [and entirely unaware of what was to become of his first beta]. He took away the will and had no problem shedding blood of all kinds. But a line was crossed when Derek went missing and Kate’s scent was everywhere. The bitch had finally returned. And now it was time to complete the circle of vendetta. Kate would be the last one of those involved and her blood would be what he enjoyed the most in taking. His move to kill the renegade met him face to face with Allison - who wore the Argent family crest around her neck and was coated in a scent Peter knew all too well…Chris. Unable to bring himself to kill the girl, he had every intention of letting her go and escaping, but was stopped, ultimately dying at his nephew’s hand. Good thing a backup plan was already in motion.

Peter had bitten Lydia on purpose, knowing full well what she was before she did and awakening the abilities. Using her, he cast a spell that brought him back and he moved to take a place in the pack his nephew had begun to make, only to watch it scatter all over again. That summer was spent searching mindlessly for Erica and Boyd along Isaac and Derek, and Peter grew restless, concerned that they couldn’t pick up the scent. Finding out why led to yet another war having been drawn in. The alpha pack wanted two of the rarest alphas, and Peter felt some pride in helping make Scott what he was. But it began to come to a head when Jennifer Blake manipulated his nephew to get what she wanted and nothing else. That kind of treatment left that gaping hole from the loss of his family seethe, and Peter made sure to rake his claws through Jennifer’s neck where Deucalion had already sliced through the woman.

Now, long after the deadpool, Kate’s coming back with berserkers at her bidding and Peter’s using her to try and get the power back he knew he could control, Peter has escaped the end result of Eichen House and has reclaimed the power of alpha from a rogue named Ashelina, who was out to gut everyone in Beacon Hills one ata time until she had the town on its knees for her. Having met Peter first, the she-wolf didn’t last long and was found torn up by authorities.

#bio;; Peter Hale #c; Peter #we live in shades of grey;; Peter Hale

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jo-ships · 4 years ago

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Of Free Will and Butterflies - chapter 5

Summary: Team Free Will finds themselves in another universe on a mountain with 9 teenagers and as the night goes on, they find that they need to make sure these teens survive.

Team Free Will followed the teens in after they finished talking, neither group really knowing what to say to each other. Sam seperated from the group along with Jay, both of which walking to Josh who was by the fireplace. "Hey," Sam started. "Would you mind if we stick around for a little while?"

Josh looked at the two, hesitant to say yes. "Why?"

"Well, we're kind of stuck since the rift disappeared. We need someplace to kill time until we can either open a new one or wait for one to open," Jay answered for him. "I mean, it's your choice, of course, and we'd hate to invade if, y'know, you guys don't want us here."

Josh didn't respond at first, giving enough time for Jo to insert herself into the conversation. "I think it would be fun, I mean, yeah, ultimately it's up to you since this is your family's lodge and all, but I'm all for them sticking around." After a moment, she added, "Especially if they're just gonna be stuck out in the cold otherwise." Jay looked at her thankfully.

"Yeah," the Sam of the teens' group spoke up. "I'd feel awful kicking them out into the cold, even if their story sounds unbelievable."

Josh shrugged. "Alright, you win, you win." He let out his awkward laugh again and waved his hands dismissively. "You guys can stick around, hang out for a while."

Jay turned around and gave an excited thumbs up to her friends as Sam thanked Josh. At the confirmation, the rest of Team Free Will branched out and started exploring the lodge. Jay rejoined Gabe and Sam started towards the stairs when some more people joined the groups in the lodge.

"What's up, party people?" Mike greeted.

"Heeey~!" Jess followed. The two halted upon seeing both Johannahs.

Mike blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. "Woah, am I seeing double?"

Jess shook her head, "See? I told you I saw Johannah earlier," she yelled at Mike and Josh who raised his defensively.

"Hey, hey, I know, I know, just calm down for a second," Josh began. "She's fine, she's safe. They all seem to be." Jo nodded, sitting back on the staircase with Sam, Chris, and Ash.

"You trust them?" Mike questioned. "We don't even know them. AND they lied to us."

"Okay, I'm sorry for lying earlier. Genuinely. I didn't like lying about who I was and I wish I didn't need to," Jay apologized. "But we needed a place to go and that was the only way we could get you guys to bring us this far."

Josh gestured at Jay with his hand and shrugged, nodding slightly. "She's got a point." He turned his attention back on the fireplace. "Don't worry, they're just staying until they can get back home."

"Alright," Mike surrendered. He and Jess started head to the couch to sit down when Matt suddenly spoke up.

"Mike, I saw you with Em."

Mike stopped, Jess sitting down without him. "What?" He turned to face Matt. "You saw us hug? 'Cause that's all that happened. It's been a while, so we hugged and visited a little. What, that a crime?"

Jay pressed her lips together awkwardly, watching the group already start falling apart. She leaned over to Gabriel next to her and whispered, "Damn, somehow I feel like they may be as dysfunctional as our group."

Gabe snorted. "Impossible. Those brothers are a whole new level." The two snickered between each other.

Matt thought about Mike's response and decided it wasn't worth it to argue. "Alright. Sorry, I overreacted."

"No worries, yeah, it's no problem." Mike turned back around and joined his girlfriend on the couch.

And then was the appearance of the last member of the group of teens: Emily. The moment she walked in, she decided to start shit with Mike and Jess. "Oh my god, that is so gross. Are you trying to swallow his face whole?" When Matt tried to cut in to ask her to stop, she continued. "Seriously, can she be any more obvious? No one wants in on your territory, honey." Instantly, Jay and Gabe side-eyed each other and held back laughter.

"Excuse me? Did you say something?" Jessica stood up, not about to let Emily roast her without a fight.

"Oh, did you not hear me? Was your sluttiness too loud?" Emily clapped back, earning some laughs from Jay, Gabe, and Dean, and some cringes from Jo, Chris, and Sam.

Jess seemed unphased, continuing her own insults. "Sounds like someone's bitter she didn't make the cut."

"Yeah," Emily said in the most sarcastic way she could. "It's all a big cattle call with that dreamboat. Congrats, you're top cow."

At this point, Jay and Gabe began muttering to each other making bets on who would win. "Emily is really going all in but I think my bet's on Jess."

"Really? I think Emily's got it in the bag. Guns blazing right from the get-go," Gabe disagreed.

They checked in with the roasting when Matt interrupted, attempting to keep the peace. "Em, come on-."

"Shut up, Matt," Emily interrupted.

"Stay out of it, you dumb oaf," Jess barked.

"Oh shit," Jay uttered, looking over at the group by the stairs who all seemed already sick of what was happening.

"Hey, watch it!" Emily warned.

Jess snarkily raised her hands. "Oh, I'm sorry, you're the only one who can put him down? No one else can play with your toys?"

"You're such a bitch!"

Jess turned around, walking back to the couch. "Whatever, I don't give a crap about what you think."

"At least I can think," retorted Emily. "4.0, bitch. Honor roll. Suck on that while you're trying to sleep your way into a job."

Jess turned back around to respond. "Who needs grades when you've got all the natural advantages you can think of? You couldn't buy a moldy loaf of bread with your skanky ass."

Jay considered intervening this time but Matt beat her to it. "Emily, both of you, stop. This is out of hand, there's no reason to fight like this."

"Yeah, Em," Jess continued. "Why are you picking fights over your ex boyfriend, huh?"

"Stop it!" Josh cut in. "This is not why we came up here. This isn't helping. It's not what I wanted." He stepped closer. "If we can't get along for ten minutes then maybe we need a little bit of a break, right?" His attention moved to Mike. "Mike, why don't you check out the guest cabin, the one I told you about."

Mike stood up. "Yeah... Yeah, alright." He walked closer to Jess and held out his hand. "You wanna go do that?"

"Anyplace without that whore," she responded, taking his hand and walking with him.

"It's right up the trail," Josh informed as they left.

Matt sighed, relieved the fighting was over before Em started going off again. "Hold on, who are they?" She pointed at the members of Team Free Will. "And why is there- Why is there a second Johannah?"

"Hi," Jay waved in response.

"They need a place to stay until they can get home," Josh replied, his attention back on the fireplace. "Don't worry about it."

"'Don't worry'?" Emily questioned. "Seriously, who are they?"

Jack piped in, "We're from another universe. We came here through a rift but it closed, so now we have to wait for a new one to open."

Emily looked even less convinced than she already was, if that was even possible, so Chris gave his two cents. "There are two Johannahs, both exactly the same in almost every way, an alternate universe isn't the craziest explanation."

Emily conceded, not wanting to go down this rabbit hole and instead inspected her luggage. "Where's my bag?"

The Team Free Will peanut gallery groaned, knowing she was about to start something again. The ones who were actually paying any attention were thankful when it didn't last long and ended with she and Matt leaving.

Blonde Sam got up from the step she was sitting on, brushing off her skirt. "Okay, now that that's done, I'm gonna go take a bath." She excused herself and walked upstairs, ready to leave behind all the drama of her friends - a feeling mutual with everyone who witnessed that.

"This is gonna be a long night," Jo muttered.

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#self shipping #romantic f/o #self insert #self insert community #self ship community #fictional other #self ship #self shipping community #sam tag #ofwab #supernatural self insert #until dawn self insert #my writing #♡Pour some sugar on me♡#♡Wish you were here♡

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