#and of course I said I can learn to do anything with time(true) and am available anytime (also true but morning shifts will suck at first)
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Jack and Joker - final thoughts
Since the takes in the tags are... quite all over, I just want to be open about how I approach watching QLs.
1. I'm here to have fun. Real life sucks immensely right now, and QLs are my happy place.
2. I'm very aware that I am a white woman from a Western country and that I am a guest in East Asian spaces. I have internalized biases because of my background, and I believe it's my responsibility to learn and grow and figure out how to be open to other cultures & experiences without jumping to assumption.
3. I love metaphorical storytelling. I love when people take risks and try something new. I don't care if there are some logical inconsistencies or issues with budget. I am here for how it makes me feel, and what I can learn from it.
So, all that being said...
I had such a good time with this show!
I'm still processing a lot about it, and I know I will be thinking about it for some time to come. But they did so much that I appreciated. I don't have the time to go into great detail, but in very broad terms - what I loved:
Of course Yin and War. What an incredible job they did. I know this was a really challenging project for them, and they took a lot of personal risks. They are so conscientious about harmful tropes and stereotypes, and deliberate in working to break those down. I'm so proud of them, and excited to see where they go from here.
The characters. From the leads to the sides, I just adored so many of them. Jack and Joke were both such imperfect and flawed characters, but that made them so interesting to me. I loved our little troupe of idiots. I loved Toi Ting. I loved Grandma. Everyone was so vividly portrayed. Hope and Save's devotion to one another. Tattoo and Arun gradually becoming boyfriends without either one noticing. The fanfics are gonna be fire.
The storytelling. Yin and War could have easily made a fluffy romance, and people would have eaten it all up (and probably complained a lot less, lol). But it wouldn't have really said anything. They wanted to do something more complex than that. They had a lot to say about being trapped in a political & economic system that is not of our choosing and that we have no control over, and what it means for individuals to try and live out their ethics and values while knowing the system is not going anywhere. Save being the new Boss isn't a perfect solution, it's not a "yay, it's all better now!". It's a "well at least this position that will be filled one way or another is filled by a slightly less shitty person now, so maybe we can live our lives without being beaten up this year". And the Four Horsemen don't go anywhere, because systems of power are fixed. We remain beholden to them. But we can still try to carve out our little pieces of a place to hold true to ourselves and those we love.
Overall, this show made me laugh, made me cry, and made me literally applaud alone in my apartment. It wasn't perfect, there were flaws, but damn was it an incredible experience.
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Astray, Kim Woon-hak !
synopsis : you catch yourself slowly but surely falling back in-love with your ex, the break up was mutual neither one of you was toxic or just flat out a horrible partner in the relationship. maybe rekindling that won’t hurt…
genre : exes to lovers, fluff, a little angst (lmk if i forgot something)
pairing : bf!woonhak x reader
𐙚 word count : 1.8k
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you and woonhak have been broken up for about 7 months now, you took it surprisingly well. no one cheated or anything the break up was mutual you both felt as though you were in two different places at the time.
over the course of 7 months you found some new hobbies and really started to learn to enjoy your own company. one hobby in particular you loved was skateboarding. you liked the thrill and excitement you got from putting the board on the ground and riding through the skate park with it.
anytime you had free time you spent it at the skate park, one day you really really wanted to try this new trick you saw on tiktok the fact it was on tiktok you knew you shouldn’t try it out, but you liked the thrill.
it was about 7pm the sun was setting and you’d been at the skate park all day. you finally decided to try out the trick, no one was around so if you fell no one would see you.
the trick was call a Grind. meaning you slide the board along a surface, not necessarily the board the trucks of the board.
you could already jump and spin the board and land perfectly, so you did that a few times to warm up. but then you heard someone clap whixh startled you and you lost your balance on your board falling but you caught the fall with your hands.
“are you okay? did i scare you?” a familiar voice spoke as they helped you up from the ground.
“woonhak?” you asked before looking up. and behold there was woonhak smiling at you, despite living in the same neighborhood you haven’t seen him in 7 months probably cause you spent your free time here.
“yea it’s me y/n” he helped you to your knees. you both stand there making direct eye contact, he looks away and scratch the back of his neck nervously chuckling.
“so uh, how have you been?” “what are you doing here?” you both spoke at the same time causing you both to laugh.
“well i’ve been good, it’s been awhile woonhak. surprised to see you here.” you said making him look back at you.
“are you really surprised to see me? this was my home for the longest.” he laughed.
and just like that you’re busted, you spent the last 7 months going to the skate park and any chance you got just so you could possibly run into woonhak. but of course he couldn’t know that.
“yea..” you let out an awkward laugh, he picks up on it and smiles at you. “you asked what i’m doing here,” he showed you his board “i haven’t been here since we broke up, something told me to come here today so here i am.” he spoke you caught a hint of genuine in his voice.
you knew the part about him not coming since you both broke up was somewhat true since you’d been coming here everyday since you both broke up. a part of you felt like he wasn’t necessarily telling the truth about why he actually came.
he placed his board on the ground and kicked off, “let’s see if you can keep up.” he laughed as he got further and further from you.
your board already being on the ground you placed your left foot on the board and kicked off, “hey! no fair” you said laughing.
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an hour passed by and you both are still at the skate park. “y/n,” woonhak said your name causing you to look up at him “genuinely what prompted you to start skating? was it another guy…?” he mumbled that last part and it caused your face to form a small smile.
“only if you tell me what you’re really doing here.” you replied, “fine, i’ll walk you home and we can catch up.” he said getting up off the ground reaching his hand out to help you up.
you missed this, you kind of forgot how much of a gentleman he was… you felt butterflies in your stomach. you took his hand and let him help you.
“you live closer do you really want to walk with me? we could just-“ he cut you off “i insist.” he said. you nodded and started dusting the dust and dirt off your pants.
“alright let’s go!” you said placing your left foot on your board and slightly kicking off with your right foot, he walked beside you as you slowly skate on your board.
“soo…” you said breaking the silence. “well what do you wanna know? the floor is yours.” he replied.
“i still want to know why you were at the park today, but i’ll save that for later.” you said.
“how have you been though? hopefully good.” you added. “actually i took the break up pretty hard which is why i stopped going to the skate park.” he says, you placed your right foot in the ground to stop your skating.
he noticed and he stopped walking, he turned around and slightly tilted his head at you.
“you took the break up hard?” you asked, “now i feel bad because i didn’t take it bad…” you added.
but i think you did take it bad without realizing, you went to the skate park almost everyday hoping you’d run into woonhak, the reason you learned to skate was so that you could impress him.
you looked down to the ground your foot fidgeting with your board.
“hey…” he walked back towards you, “don’t feel bad everyone takes things differently,” he explained. “i’m actually relieved you took it well, i would’ve stressed if you hadn’t.” he added.
“woonhak,” you spoke still looking at the ground, “did you think of me? at least once or twice…?” now you were fidgeting with your hands.
you don’t know why you were so nervous it’s just woonhak, you haven’t felt like this sense you and woonhak first met… i mean of course he made you shy when you were together but you soon got comfortable around him, felt like you were back at square one. you like this feeling.
“y/n, i thought of you everyday… still thinking of you now,” he expressed, “i missed you.”
you smile hearing his words suddenly you were so giddy, you didn’t want to make it obvious but it was already so obvious you missed him as well.
“i missed you too woonhak.” you whispered and smiled to yourself.
“i needed to hear that.” he spoke grabbing your board off the ground carrying it in his right arm with his board. he reached his left hand out to grab yours. you hesitated, but he grabbed it anyway.
you both walked hand in hand for a few minutes the silence wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable.
“what did you do for the last 7 months?” you spoke breaking the silence.
“school and that’s about it, you?” he asked, “school and in my free time the skate park, i see why you spent alot of time there. it’s peaceful just you and the sound of the board on the ground.” you trail off realizing how cringe that might’ve sounded.
he lets out a light chuckle before speaking “you know the real reason i went to the skate park today was because your mom told me you we’re there.”
“huh my mom? why’d she tell you that?” you asked sounding confused. he stopped walking, but you kept walking you stopped and turned around after realizing he stopped cause his arm pulled you back.
“because i went to your house in hopes of seeing you,” he trailed off.
you stood there for awhile then you walked up to him, he continued “i acted off impulse, i really wanted to see you but didn’t know if i should call or stop by… so i just stopped by. and that’s when your mom told me you were at the skate park.” he spoke, he looked in your eyes searching for an answer or something.
you look into his eyes seeing a hint of vulnerability, “woonhak…” you gently grabbed his face with your free hand.
“i have a confession, i only learned how to skate because i wanted to impress you… i thought that if maybe you saw me on my board you would think i’m cool.” you chuckled.
“i wanted us to have something in common i learned how to skate for you but ended up actually falling in love with it.” you added, he put his board on the ground upside down and did the same with yours.
“seeing you on your skate board only made me fall more inlove with you than i already am.” your eyes widen at his response.
“i-inlove..?” you stutter trying to process what you just heard.
he loves you? prior to breaking up you two were only together for 4 months you didn’t even hit the “i love you” stage yet. you were taken aback.
“yes y/n, i am inlove with you more than you know more than i can put into words.”
“i never wanted to break up, i wanted to stay together but because that was your choice i just agreed.” he trailed off “y/n you don’t understand how much i love you, and neither do i… which probably why i agreed to break up, all this is new to me and i was scared.” he confessed.
he grabbed your hand that was cuffed on his face holding onto it.
“woonhak, why wouldn’t you just communicate this with me you dummy!?” your eyes start watering. he notices and pulls you into a hug using the hand that was holding your hand.
he wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“i would’ve told you i love you more.” you confessed but it was muffled due to your head being buried in his chest, “everyday without you was dreadful, i missed your scent, your smile, your laugh. i just missed you as a whole.” he kissed your forehead.
“y/n,” he pulled away still holding onto your waist, before you could answer him he cupped your face looking directly into your eyes, this was it you were about to have your first kiss.
you pull away, analyzing his face before pulling him back into the kiss.
after the kiss he mumbled the words “i love you, always have y/n.” and your face goes red… “so cute.”
he put his arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him and you both continued to walk home.
until you realize you left your boards, “woonhak silly you left the boards.” he turned around and laughed, he jogged back and grabbed them before placing his arm around your shoulder again. and you both walked down the quiet neighborhood laughing.
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authors notes : i hope you all enjoyed this short woonhak story lol, i was up late last night and proof read it this morning. please excuse any errors if there are any. don’t know how i feel about this story but i definitely had fun writing it, i hope everyone has/had a great day !
perm taglist (open) : requests (open) !
#boynextdoor#woonhak#woonhak x reader#boynextdoor x reader#boynextdoor x y/n#woonhak x y/n#boynextdoor scenarios
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I did it…kind of 🧍🏻♀️
#shut up alli#I was not interviewed by the manager of the department I applied for which makes me believe he wasn’t there today idk#but the guy I did talk to was super super sweet#we only rlly talked about availability and what working there would look like#and of course I said I can learn to do anything with time(true) and am available anytime (also true but morning shifts will suck at first)#I was told I would be called back for the real deal with the bakery manager so uh…waiting game rn!#*if they considered me that is. not a guarantee but I’m hopeful!#i think he said I’d hear back by Friday I kinda blanked out a little I was nervous FKKSKDK#but hopefully I made a good enough impression for them to consider me idkkkkkk I’ll do my best!!#now that I know what the process is like though I’m now good and feel much better. I’m very relieved KDKDKSKKS
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this might be a hot take... but if you care about disavowing media made by bad people out of fear of looking like a bad person yourself more than you care about actually doing good things... you might have your priorities (and your morals) screwed up a bit :/
(see my tags for more of my thoughts on this topic! please try to avoid making make bad-faith assumptions about what i mean!)
#melonposting#there is a good case for not wanting to associate with something on account of the creator being harmful. sure whatever#but people have talked at length about the sort of moral ocd that it promotes when that idea is fervently preached and enforced#i don't know about you but i think there's a big difference between#a) not wanting people to associate with something because the media itself spouts harmful rhetoric#and because its bigoted creator both benefits from people engaging with the books and is idolized by many of the books' fans#and b) not wanting people to vocally enjoy ANYTHING made by ANYONE who's held any harmful ideology at any point#because doing so 'inherently' supports and spreads those harmful ideologies#it's true that you cannot separate the art from the artist#but good people can make bad art and bad people can make good art. artistic talent is not inherently correlated with the artist's morals#the goodness/badness of a person CAN seep into the art they make. and it often does. and that can affect one's enjoyment of it#but even then there's nuance to be had on how to deal with it#like my hero academia for example. when i started watching it in middle school i didn't know how misogynistic it would be#of course i ended up seeing it in the show (and god it's so misogynistic)#and i ended up learning that the 'joke' sexual-harasser character is a self-insert for the creator#which of course i could never get behind. the creator is undeniably a horrible guy#at the same time though the show means a lot to me and i've gained a lot from watching it#i won't elaborate here on how but believe me it isn't superficial. if you want to ask me about it i'd be happy to share#i can hold both in my mind. the disgust and the enjoyment. i don't think those have to be mutually exclusive#of course not everyone is like that; you could immediately stop liking the show on discovering the gross stuff. and that's your prerogative#i don't know... i agree with the values behind avoiding media made by people known to have moral failings#and in some cases (like harry potter and jkr) i fully endorse the values and the practice. but such cases are very specific#but in most cases i fear the practice is misguided and unnuanced and ultimately unhelpful in fulfilling one's values#it is largely a philosophical matter: about how an individual regards their moral standing in the context of themselves and other people#which is important to discuss - especially in our globalized internet age! speaking of which feel free to disagree with me#if you want to have a civil discussion i'm more than open to it#but no matter how important this matter... there are way more important ones in the world. especially right now#calling out people who watch a youtuber who said something bigoted 5 years ago does little to stop that bigotry overall#just have good morals and practice them! support oppressed people! be thoughtful and understanding and compassionate!#callouts and dni lists rarely make for impactful advocacy!!!
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Saw a tweet that said something around:
"cannot emphasize enough how horrid chatgpt is, y'all. it's depleting our global power & water supply, stopping us from thinking or writing critically, plagiarizing human artists. today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools. this isn't a world we deserve"
I've seen some of your AI posts and they seem nuanced, but how would you respond do this? Cause it seems fairly-on point and like the crux of most worries. Sorry if this is a troublesome ask, just trying to learn so any input would be appreciated.
i would simply respond that almost none of that is true.
'depleting the global power and water supply'
something i've seen making the roudns on tumblr is that chatgpt queries use 3 watt-hours per query. wow, that sounds like a lot, especially with all the articles emphasizing that this is ten times as much as google search. let's check some other very common power uses:
running a microwave for ten minutes is 133 watt-hours
gaming on your ps5 for an hour is 200 watt-hours
watching an hour of netflix is 800 watt-hours
and those are just domestic consumer electricty uses!
a single streetlight's typical operation 1.2 kilowatt-hours a day (or 1200 watt-hours)
a digital billboard being on for an hour is 4.7 kilowatt-hours (or 4700 watt-hours)
i think i've proved my point, so let's move on to the bigger picture: there are estimates that AI is going to cause datacenters to double or even triple in power consumption in the next year or two! damn that sounds scary. hey, how significant as a percentage of global power consumption are datecenters?
1-1.5%.
ah. well. nevertheless!
what about that water? yeah, datacenters use a lot of water for cooling. 1.7 billion gallons (microsoft's usage figure for 2021) is a lot of water! of course, when you look at those huge and scary numbers, there's some important context missing. it's not like that water is shipped to venus: some of it is evaporated and the rest is generally recycled in cooling towers. also, not all of the water used is potable--some datacenters cool themselves with filtered wastewater.
most importantly, this number is for all data centers. there's no good way to separate the 'AI' out for that, except to make educated guesses based on power consumption and percentage changes. that water figure isn't all attributable to AI, plenty of it is necessary to simply run regular web servers.
but sure, just taking that number in isolation, i think we can all broadly agree that it's bad that, for example, people are being asked to reduce their household water usage while google waltzes in and takes billions of gallons from those same public reservoirs.
but again, let's put this in perspective: in 2017, coca cola used 289 billion liters of water--that's 7 billion gallons! bayer (formerly monsanto) in 2018 used 124 million cubic meters--that's 32 billion gallons!
so, like. yeah, AI uses electricity, and water, to do a bunch of stuff that is basically silly and frivolous, and that is broadly speaking, as someone who likes living on a planet that is less than 30% on fire, bad. but if you look at the overall numbers involved it is a miniscule drop in the ocean! it is a functional irrelevance! it is not in any way 'depleting' anything!
'stopping us from thinking or writing critically'
this is the same old reactionary canard we hear over and over again in different forms. when was this mythic golden age when everyone was thinking and writing critically? surely we have all heard these same complaints about tiktok, about phones, about the internet itself? if we had been around a few hundred years earlier, we could have heard that "The free access which many young people have to romances, novels, and plays has poisoned the mind and corrupted the morals of many a promising youth."
it is a reactionary narrative of societal degeneration with no basis in anything. yes, it is very funny that laywers have lost the bar for trusting chatgpt to cite cases for them. but if you think that chatgpt somehow prevented them from thinking critically about its output, you're accusing the tail of wagging the dog.
nobody who says shit like "oh wow chatgpt can write every novel and movie now. yiou can just ask chatgpt to give you opinions and ideas and then use them its so great" was, like, sitting in the symposium debating the nature of the sublime before chatgpt released. there is no 'decay', there is no 'decline'. you should be suspicious of those narratives wherever you see them, especially if you are inclined to agree!
plagiarizing human artists
nah. i've been over this ad infinitum--nothing 'AI art' does could be considered plagiarism without a definition so preposterously expansive that it would curtail huge swathes of human creative expression.
AI art models do not contain or reproduce any images. the result of them being trained on images is a very very complex statistical model that contains a lot of large-scale statistical data about all those images put together (and no data about any of those individual images).
to draw a very tortured comparison, imagine you had a great idea for how to make the next Great American Painting. you loaded up a big file of every norman rockwell painting, and you made a gigantic excel spreadsheet. in this spreadsheet you noticed how regularly elements recurred: in each cell you would have something like "naturalistic lighting" or "sexually unawakened farmers" and the % of times it appears in his paintings. from this, you then drew links between these cells--what % of paintings containing sexually unawakened farmers also contained naturalistic lighting? what % also contained a white guy?
then, if you told someone else with moderately competent skill at painting to use your excel spreadsheet to generate a Great American Painting, you would likely end up with something that is recognizably similar to a Norman Rockwell painting: but any charge of 'plagiarism' would be absolutely fucking absurd!
this is a gross oversimplification, of course, but it is much closer to how AI art works than the 'collage machine' description most people who are all het up about plagiarism talk about--and if it were a collage machine, it would still not be plagiarising because collages aren't plagiarism.
(for a better and smarter explanation of the process from soneone who actually understands it check out this great twitter thread by @reachartwork)
today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools
i mean, this is true! AI tools are definitely going to destroy livelihoods. they will increase productivty for skilled writers and artists who learn to use them, which will immiserate those jobs--they will outright replace a lot of artists and writers for whom quality is not actually important to the work they do (this has already essentially happened to the SEO slop website industry and is in the process of happening to stock images).
jobs in, for example, product support are being cut for chatgpt. and that sucks for everyone involved. but this isn't some unique evil of chatgpt or machine learning, this is just the effect that technological innovation has on industries under capitalism!
there are plenty of innovations that wiped out other job sectors overnight. the camera was disastrous for portrait artists. the spinning jenny was famously disastrous for the hand-textile workers from which the luddites drew their ranks. retail work was hit hard by self-checkout machines. this is the shape of every single innovation that can increase productivity, as marx explains in wage labour and capital:
“The greater division of labour enables one labourer to accomplish the work of five, 10, or 20 labourers; it therefore increases competition among the labourers fivefold, tenfold, or twentyfold. The labourers compete not only by selling themselves one cheaper than the other, but also by one doing the work of five, 10, or 20; and they are forced to compete in this manner by the division of labour, which is introduced and steadily improved by capital. Furthermore, to the same degree in which the division of labour increases, is the labour simplified. The special skill of the labourer becomes worthless. He becomes transformed into a simple monotonous force of production, with neither physical nor mental elasticity. His work becomes accessible to all; therefore competitors press upon him from all sides. Moreover, it must be remembered that the more simple, the more easily learned the work is, so much the less is its cost to production, the expense of its acquisition, and so much the lower must the wages sink – for, like the price of any other commodity, they are determined by the cost of production. Therefore, in the same manner in which labour becomes more unsatisfactory, more repulsive, do competition increase and wages decrease”
this is the process by which every technological advancement is used to increase the domination of the owning class over the working class. not due to some inherent flaw or malice of the technology itself, but due to the material realtions of production.
so again the overarching point is that none of this is uniquely symptomatic of AI art or whatever ever most recent technological innovation. it is symptomatic of capitalism. we remember the luddites primarily for failing and not accomplishing anything of meaning.
if you think it's bad that this new technology is being used with no consideration for the planet, for social good, for the flourishing of human beings, then i agree with you! but then your problem shouldn't be with the technology--it should be with the economic system under which its use is controlled and dictated by the bourgeoisie.
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Gala Buddies
Sam Manson glares out across the sea of the rich, snobby ‘elite.’ The people mingling with one another, all fake smiles and false niceties slipping from their lips easily. Every face a mask they put on to hide their true selves from the view of the public. They made Sam sick. She hated Galas, particularly the ones that took her away from Amity.
So of course, her parents had insisted that they simply must attend the gala in Gotham being held by none other than Bruce Wayne. They couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to see their old pal again.
Though Sam thought it was more like they wanted to suck up to the man for some business venture.
Or try to set her up with one of his sons again.
At least she got to see Gotham’s architecture. That was a positive, she concluded. She’d get some cool photos out of the trip to show Danny and Tucker back home. And maybe she’d get to see one of Gotham’s infamous vigilantes up close, she could try to learn anything from gauging the way they handled themselves that might be useful for Danny.
Sam readjusted her stance, the fabric of the obnoxiously pink dress making her legs itch uncomfortably. Her mother had gone through her luggage before they left when Sam hadn’t been looking and slipped in the monstrosity she was currently wearing, and removing the dresses she had selected for this torturous night. She was becoming moodier, and ‘crabbier’ as Tucker and Danny might have put it, by the second.
Maybe she could ‘accidentally’ trip into the chocolate fountain and ruin the dress. At least then she’d be getting some form of retribution for being forced into the frilly cocoon of humiliation. And it’s not like her parents would be able to scold her too much in front of all the other rich schmuks attending the party. As Sam was eyeing the chocolate fountain she noticed in her peripheral vision a person approaching her.
“Not in a party mood I take it?” Asked whoever had walked up to her.
Sam turned to examine the guy in front of her. He looked to be roughly her age, dark skin and a fancy suit that he looked uncomfortable in. A nervous energy permitted off of him, Sam guessed he wasn’t used to these sorts of events and was unashamedly out of his depth.
“Nah, not particularly,” Sam offered with a shrug, “you seem like you want to be here as much as I do.”
“Ah yeah,” the guy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly, “I’m kinda only here because my brother didn’t want to be here alone and most of our other siblings were unavailable aside from my sister and I. But now he’s off talking to a friend of his that happened to be here, and my sister’s disappeared to who knows where.”
“That’s rough buddy,” Sam offers him a sympathetic smile.
The guy snorts before asking, “did you just quote Zuko?” And Sam grins. He holds out his hand to her, “Duke Thomas.”
Sam shakes his hand, “Sam Manson. Nice to meet you, Duke.”
Duke visibly appears to relax a little and the air of nervousness around his somewhat dissipates. He shifts of his feet for a moment before deciding on something. “So,” he starts, “if you weren’t stuck here what you normally be doing with your time?”
“Probably playing Doom with my two best friends back home,” Sam doesn’t mention anything about the ghosts. She hopes Danny and Tucker are alright in their own.
“Oh cool,” Duke smiles and Sam would be lying if she said she’d never seen someone so perfectly embody literal sunshine like he did. “I usually play videos games with my siblings. Mario Kart can get super competitive though.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. “How competitive?”
Duke grimaces slightly but looks amused at the same time, “well, tables have been flipped and expensive things broken. And everyone lost Alfred’s cookie privileges for a week.” He ground out that last part as though it physically pained him.
“Damn. They must be some good cookies if you’re that bummed about it.”
“Your have no idea. Alfred’s cookies are the best thing in the world. Fights have broken out over them.”
“Your family sound insane,” Sam chuckles and quickly adds, “in a good way.”
Duke grins at her, “yeah they’re kinda crazy sometimes, but they’re great. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
“It must be nice, having siblings like that.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“Nah,” Sam shakes her head, “only child.”
Before either of them know or Sam and Duke have been talking for nearly the entire gala. They remained glued to one another chatting even as one or both of them wanted to grab something to eat from the buffet table. Their interactions didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce and the others.
Sam couldn’t remember the last time she had such a normal and fun conversation with someone other than Danny or Tucker.
The end of the night came too soon, Sam felt. Things were winding down and people were bidding others farewell. She could see her parents speaking with Bruce Wayne, possibly thanking him for a wonderful night.
“Looks like I’ll probably be leaving soon,” Sam deflated a little.
Duke pondered something for a moment but seemed to reach a decision quickly. He pulled out his phone and offered it to Sam, “here, give me your number. We can keep talking later. If you want that is.”
And Sam couldn’t find any reason to say no, especially when Duke was smiling like that. “Sure,” he took the phone from his hand and added her number into his contacts. She pulled out her own phone and handed it to him to add his number in too.
“Well then,” Duke fighters with the end of his suit jacket.
“Sammikins!” Pamela Manson called out, “it’s time to go sweetie.”
“I’ll talk to you late?” Duke asked with a smile.
“Yeah,” Sam smiled back, “talk to you later Duke.”
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dpxdc#dcxdp#Danny phantom#Sam Manson#duke Thomas#the signal#batfamily#Danny phantom x dc#Sam x duke#I was thinking about ships I don’t see and Sam x Duke came to mind#grumpy x sunshine#ultraviolet#ultraviolet ship
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Date? Date!
Summary: Reader asks Spencer if he wants a date (the food item). Miscommunication ensues.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content Warnings: food mentions, miscommunication, awkwardness
Word count: 700
Masterlist
Early into your career at the FBI you learned how important it was to take good care of yourself. Long and irregular work hours made it difficult to nourish your body, so you made it a habit to always pack some healthy snacks.
Recently you discovered your love for dates - a fruit packed with fiber and potassium while satiating your sweet tooth.
You grabbed a small container from your bag while your eyes landed on your favorite coworker. Months ago you noticed that his main source of energy was coffee and refined sugar, so without thinking too much about it, you decided to offer him an alternative.
“Date?” You asked once Spencer found your eyes.
“Wh…what?” He muttered. “You’re asking me… just like that?”
His reaction was a little confusing but it wasn't the first time that the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid left you a bit puzzled.
"Yeah, of course! I think it’ll be good for you!” You chirped to encourage him.
“You think?” His mouth stayed agape after those words made it past his lips.
You raised your eyebrows at him and withdrew your offer, “You obviously don’t have to. You can just say no.”
“No, no, it’s not that! I just.. I have never been… I mean… I have never really… had a date?” He muttered.
“Really? That's hard to believe.” You couldn't hide the surprised tone in your voice. Dates were pretty popular, you had never met anyone who hadn’t tried one.
“It’s true…,” he mumbled.
“Maybe it’s time for you to try it!”
"I... have thought about it. A lot actually." Spencer whispered while his eyes dropped to the floor. "With you specifically"
At this point you definitely couldn't hide your confusion anymore. You took one date out of the plastic container to look at it before you said, "You have thought about eating dates with me?"
When your eyes met his again you noticed the color draining from his face. The already pale doctor suddenly looked like he had seen a ghost.
“You uhm… you… of course… you were talking about dates,” he stammered.
“Yes? What were you tal–” You stopped mid sentence when you realized.
Oh.
Oh.
Spencer must have thought you were asking him out.
Now his reaction made a lot more sense.
Before you could say anything, Spencer quickly got up to leave the room. You could only imagine how embarrassed he must have been right then. Your heart began aching at the thought of hurting the person you cared so deeply about.
The truth was that you were hoping for him to ask you out for months now. It was hard to tell if he actually liked you too, so you never had the courage to ask him yourself.
It seemed like the cat was out of the bag now and it was your chance to finally ask him out for real.
“Spencer!” You called out his name as you ran after him. “Wait, please!”
To your surprise he slowed down, coming to a halt right before he reached the elevators.
“I just want to go catch some air,” he explained with a fake smile on his face.
“Please don’t be embarrassed,” you said with a soft voice. “It was just a little misunderstanding.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s fine, really!” He lied while pressing the button of the elevators.
“It’s true that I was just offering you a date, but…” you paused for a moment, noticing his eyes getting bigger.
You almost got lost in the warm amber that were his irises. It was hard to actually speak the words you so clearly wanted to say. But you knew it was now or never.
“... But I would really like to go out with you. On an actual date,” you confessed.
The features of Spencer's face suddenly softened and it seemed like relief washed over him.
“You do?” He wanted to make sure.
“Yeah, I really do,” you confirmed.
A wide smile appeared on his face. “I would really like that, too. Maybe we could go out for dinner someday.”
“Dinner sounds a lot better than just eating dates together,” you laughed.
Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @luvley2k @bunnylovesani
#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fluff
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i think he knows | theodore nott x reader
song; i think he knows [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x ravenclaw!fem!reader genre; not actually unrequited love, s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, theo's lack of communication summary; you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move
masterlist
"wanna see what's under that attitude."
—————————————
Truth was, you knew you weren't special for having your attention caught by Theodore Nott. Despite his almost entirely anti-social personality and apparent grumpiness, many girls longed after him. You completely understood, of course; there was something enticing about a potentially misunderstood quiet boy, and the idea of becoming the one person they show affection to was self-indulging.
The fact of the matter, as your best friend, Cho, frequently pointed out, was that you had never even so much as spoken to him. You hoped he at least knew you existed, from the times you had been praised in class for your assignments, but you had no proof that he even recognised your face.
"Babe, it's sixth year now- that's over five years of you fancying Nott," Cho said as she caught your gaze lingering over to the Slytherin table again. It was your second day back after summer, so you had a lot of long-distance admiring to catch up on.
"Okay, so?" you replied, not even bothering to move your eyes away from the object of your desires.
"So, it's time that you do something about it," she continued, shovelling scrambled eggs on to both her plate and yours, "Do you really want to leave Hogwarts without any dating experience?"
You finally prized your eyes away from Nott, opting instead to meet your concerned best friend's gaze, "I don't think it's the sort of time to be thinking about dating."
"It's especially the time to think about it," she said, "Our lives may be shorter than we think they are - don't die with regrets."
You sighed, unable to argue.
"Plus, it really wouldn't hurt to have some positivity around here. You can feel how much heavier the air is than before."
That, you had to agree with. People were still laughing in their friend groups throughout the hall, sure, but there was a lingering sense of dread that had stuck with everyone since the Triwizard Tournament and reign of Umbridge, and it was only getting worse.
"Maybe," you finally concluded, picking up your fork to dig into your breakfast.
"You have nothing to lose," she added, "Your social circles are completely separate, and, you're pretty as fuck."
You couldn't help but smile at her compliment, "Even if that's true, I'm completely inexperienced."
"It's not that hard."
"Yeah, says the girl who had both Hogwarts champions drooling over her. No offence, babe, but you're biased."
"That could just have easily been you if you'd ever spoken to either of them."
"Whatever you say."
Cho sighed, deciding to not argue any further with you on the matter - for now.
***
It was amazing how potions went from your least favourite subject to your favourite after Slughorn took over from Snape. The lessons were no longer a fear-inducing chore, but instead a time of laughter and enjoyable learning: the way it should be.
Harry Potter especially seemed to be flourishing in the subject, much to the dismay of Hermione Granger, who usually took the spot at the top of the class. You were glad to not be a part of their constantly hectic lifestyles, although you had almost been when Cho had a thing with Harry the year prior.
Regardless, your main focus during potions was the gorgeous Slytherin boy who sat across the classroom from you - another of the best students in the class. Your seat was stationed at the perfect angle to sneak glances at him without raising too much suspicion: you definitely hadn't ensured that a few weeks ago during the first lesson or anything.
"Shit, I forgot the anjelica," you muttered to yourself, gazing at the list of ingredients in front of you as you had been wondering why your potion was a navy blue when it was meant to be a royal blue.
You left your station to head over to the ingredients cupboard, where you gazed at the arrangement before you. It was organised alphabetically, so your eyes shifted to the top left hand corner where you spotted the jar that you were after.
You stood on your tiptoes in attempt to reach it, but after failing, you huffed, going to pull out your wand instead. That was when a hard chest pressed against your back and a large pale hand grasped the very jar that you were in dire need of. You turned around quickly only to spot the guy you had fancied for an unhealthy amount of time - and his face was shockingly close to yours. His scent swarmed your nostrils, making your knees weak.
He raised an eyebrow at you.
Coming to your senses, you cleared your throat, "Uh, I need some of that anjelica- please."
His eyes shifted down to the jar in his hand as he stepped back slightly. The added distance meant that you could finally breathe.
Nott presented the jar to you, and you gratefully took it, thanking him in the process. As you went to open it and take what you needed, he left the cupboard and went back to his station, which was in view of where you were. You remained shocked for a few moments: did he not need some of the herb? His eyes locked on to yours from where he now was, making you panic and quickly depart the cupboard with the jar still in your hand.
Rowena, how did Cho expect you to ask him out when you couldn't even make eye contact with him?
***
The following morning, you were sat at breakfast with Cho and your other fellow Ravenclaws, busy discussing the latest ancient runes essay that you had to complete. Just as you began to discuss the difficulties you had with writing the conclusion, you were interrupted by the sound of owls from above. The morning post had arrived.
Typically, you didn't get anything. Maybe the occasional letter from your mother, but that was about it. So, you were mildly surprised to see an envelope drop in front of you.
It was a very small envelope: that was the most confusing part. You couldn't think as to why your mother wouldn't send a normal-sized letter, but you opened it nonetheless. Only, the contents of the envelope made your stomach drop as dread filled your bones and veins.
A tiny note was enclosed, that wasn't addressed or signed, and it simply read "I see you staring at me". Instinctively, your eyes looked up and over to the Slytherin table, where Theodore Nott sat, evidently having been watching you this entire time. His face was completely blank, until he arched an eyebrow at you - clearly a favoured expression of his - which made you begin panicking.
"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Only Cho, who was sat next to you, heard your profanities, and turned to you with confusion adorning her face. "What is it?"
You passed the note over to her, still gazing at Nott who now had the slightest of amused smirks tugging on his lips.
"Oh, fuck," Cho mimicked you, finally making you prize your eyes away from the boy, "Yeah, I see why you're panicking."
"This is going to socially ruin me," you sighed, "He'll probably tell the other Slytherins and then they'll bully me until the end of my school career."
"Okay, catastrophising much?" she said, gently slapping you, "Nott like never talks, I highly doubt he divulges his friends with personal information."
"Yeah, his personal information!" you whisper-yelled.
"I mean, maybe he likes you back."
"What?"
"He doesn't indicate at all in that note that he's mad at you for staring at him."
"Yeah, but, don't you think he'd go about it in a different way if he returned the feelings?"
Cho paused to think for a moment, "No, actually. Maybe he was pretty sure that you were staring at him, but needed to confirm it. So, he wrote that note to you, intentionally not signing it, to see if you would immediately look to him after reading it."
Your eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, are you saying I could have still saved myself, but instead instantly looked in his direction like a fucking idiot?"
"Y/N," she hit your arm, "I think this is a good thing. Try and be more optimistic."
"Easy for you to say."
***
You felt sick to your stomach as you arrived at your potions lesson that day, keeping your head down as you took your usual seat. Normally, this would be when you'd steal your first glance at Theodore Nott, but the thought of seeing his face again paralysed you with fear.
"Y/N, relax," Cho whispered to you, but her words were futile. Relaxation seemed impossible in times like this.
"Today, class, I want you to pair up with someone you don't usually work with," Professor Slughorn announced, "By that I mean, someone who isn't from your house and doesn't sit on your table."
You mumbled a curse under your breath as people began to move around, looking up to try and locate the nice Hufflepuff girl you sat next to in history of magic. Only, Cho had already disappeared to her side, and they were chatting happily with each other. Rowena, this was bad. You didn't have the biggest social circle.
"Excellent, everyone seems to be in pairs," Slughorn spoke, making you furrow your eyebrows.
Looking to your side, you were shocked to see that Nott had silently sat next you, and was gazing at you intently.
"Hi," you squeaked, flashbacks of breakfast flooding back to you.
He gave you a curt nod, and turned back to face the front.
You didn't listen to a single instruction that Slughorn gave after that, as your brain was much too pre-occupied with concepts of social suicide and humiliation. Was Nott just trying to torture you?
"L/N," a deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. That was it. The first time you had ever heard Theodore Nott speak.
You turned to him, only to realise that everyone was standing up and getting ingredients - had you really been that spaced out?
It must have been evident in your facial expression that you had no idea what was going on, because Nott opened his potions book and pointed at the potion that you were making. You looked at the ingredient list, but you couldn't say that you were actually taking any of it in.
Clearly, Nott was aware of this fact, and let out a small sigh that made you feel exceptionally guilty. Regardless, he walked over to the ingredients cupboard himself without another word and soon returned with everything you needed. In the meantime, you had snapped out of your stupor and set up the cauldron and cutting board. You didn't want him to completely regret pairing up with you.
What potion were you even making? You finally processed the words on the page: amortentia. Your eyes widened.
This might not end well.
***
You had never thought being a remarkable potion maker - who was collaborating with a fellow remarkable potion maker - would be a bad thing. It turned out that it very much could be when the steam from your concoction wafted up your nose, overwhelming your senses with the smell of intertwined chestnut and paper money. As if the faint scent of Nott that you picked up on whenever he walked past didn't make you nervous enough, now it filled the entire room, since you certainly weren't the only capable potion makers in the class.
"Alright, class, it seems that we have all about finished," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "And, now, for my favourite part."
You had a feeling you knew what was coming.
"Miss Parkinson, what does the potion smell like to you?"
"Uh," the girl flushed a bit, her eyes flicking towards Draco Malfoy, "I don't know how to describe it - clean, expensive. Like a really fancy fragrance."
"Fascinating, most fascinating," Slughorn replied, his eyes gleaming, "Mr Nott, what about you?"
Were you already about to hear him speak for the second time? He hadn't spoke throughout the entire potion making process, which, to be honest, you were kind of glad for.
"Coconut," he said simply, "And vanilla."
Your breath hitched.
You used coconut shampoo.
Your favourite perfume was a vanilla scent.
"That is most interesting!" Slughorn grinned, "It is fascinating to hear what enraptures you all the most!"
You didn't realise that your eyes had glued on to Nott as Slughorn proceeded to ask other students what amortentia smelled of to them until the Slytherin boy turned to face you and raised a singular eyebrow.
You felt warm underneath his gaze.
He smirked.
***
You packed up at the end of the lesson, preparing to return to the Ravenclaw tower until dinner time along with Cho who was still across the room. Just as you were about to walk over to her, Nott grabbed your arm and jerked his head in the direction of the door. It was a silent invitation to walk with him somewhere, from what you could gather. You turned around to tell Cho where you were going, but she had already disappeared, much to your confusion.
The first few minutes of the walk were in silence, and the awkwardness was killing you. It was only once you had emerged from the dungeons that Nott finally said something.
"You aren't subtle."
A lightning bolt of shock and nerves shot up your spine and made you stiffen up as you walked. You managed to force out a mumble of, "I know."
He shrugged, "It's cute."
Had you heard him right? No, you couldn't have. You just weren't used to hearing his voice.
"I thought you were shy," you muttered, but he heard and chuckled a bit.
"No. Just quiet."
You clutched your books close to your chest.
"You're shy," he added.
You nodded.
He chuckled again, and silence ensued for another couple minutes.
"Hogsmeade," he said.
You hummed in surprise.
"This weekend. Me, you."
Your jaw dropped - did he mean a date? A Hogsmeade invitation had certain implications among Hogwarts students.
But he didn't clarify, not once on the way to the Ravenclaw tower.
***
"Relax, Y/N, you'll be great," Cho assured you, wrapping your scarf around your neck since the autumn breeze was nippy in Scotland.
"I don't even know if it's a date."
"Of course it's a date," she shook her head, "Everyone knows what inviting someone to Hogsmeade means."
You grimaced, "I don't know if Nott is the most up to date with social norms."
"Regardless, he's not a fucking idiot."
You gave your best friend a small smile.
"Now, he'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, so hurry!"
***
You had only ever seen Theodore Nott in casual clothing from afar before, catching a glimpse of him before he disappeared amongst the other Slytherins. But, Rowena, you had been missing out on quite an indulgent sight.
How could a man make such a simple outfit of a knitted jumper and baggy jeans look so good? You didn't understand it, unable to feel anything but self-conscious in your own ensemble.
He didn't smile at you as you approached, but instead gave you a curt nod. And, as you both began walking towards the carriage, the silence was truly beginning to suffocate you. So, you reached inside the crevices of your brain to talk about something - anything - and finally landed on informing him of every little thing that had happened to you that week. It wasn't particularly interesting, mainly because you were omitting the details about him, but it meant that the quietness was filled with your babbling.
Which was how it went the entire journey to Hogsmeade.
At first you weren't sure he was listening, but when you paused mid sentence for a moment, he raised his eyebrow at you and gestured for you to go on. So you did.
"...and honestly, I don't know why Cho thought that was a good idea," you sighed as you both stepped out of the carriage, "She nearly set her hair on fire!"
You heard a small chuckle erupt from the boy next to you, making you look over to him in surprise.
"What about you? How's your week been?" you asked cautiously, nervous to see his reaction to a question that required a wordy response.
He shrugged.
It was frustrating.
You chewed your lip for a few seconds, "Look- I get you find communication difficult. But, please, I need more to work with here."
He gave you a surprised expression, and stopped walking, making you halt too. Nott looked around pensively, completely unreadable.
"Nott?"
He looked at you and scowled, "Theo," he corrected.
"Theo- what are you doing?"
Letting out a loud exhale, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the main street of Hogsmeade and to a more hidden area behind some of the houses. When you turned around, you realised that he was right in front of you - to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.
"I'm not good with words," he mumbled.
You hummed in agreement.
"I don't like talking to people," he continued, "But I want to talk to you."
Your breath hitched, "Really?"
"I'm not an idiot- I've known that you've fancied me for years."
You felt your ears heat up.
"But this year, when we started back, I-" he paused, trying to piece together the words in his mind, "I saw you, and it was different than before. I wanted your attention."
A smile crept on to your face as you gazed up at him.
"So, I know I need to work on being open - but I want to try. For you."
You don't know where the wave of confidence came from, but you found yourself pressing your lips against his and combing your fingers through his hair. He gasped at the sudden contact, but quickly reciprocated the affection until you pulled apart.
"Rowena... I always thought you knew. I can't believe I was right."
"Horrifying?"
"A little," you nodded, "But it's obviously worked out."
————————————————
masterlist
written; 03/06/2023 —> 15/08/2023 published;17/08/2023 edited; —/—/——
#harry potter#hp oneshot#hp#hp fanfic#harry potter oneshot#harry potter fanfic#fluff#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theo nott#theo nott x reader#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#reader insert#not so unrequited love#strangers to lovers#classmates to lovers#ravenclaw reader#theodore nott oneshot
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Just finished it and i loved it so much! could i request a part 2 to Dream Of Me..?
Dream Come True
Sam Winchester x F!Reader
IT'S HERE!!!!! okay, so many of you asked for a p.2 and it's here, finally. Thank you to everyone who left comments under Dream Of Me and now you have the second part. By the way, I think this shows my slight (huge) obsession with Sam's muscles and my lack of knowledge in blowjobs
Read "Dream Of Me" here
Summary: Sam's avoiding you, he's weird ever since he woke up and you had to question him about it sometime.
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected piv (which is fake and i do not encourage), oral (m. and f. recieving), nipple sucking, fingering (sort of), marking, angsty??? maybe, kissing, cursing, use of y/n, dean is done with these two, english is not my first language, NOT PROOF READ, ALL MISTAKES ARE MINE
WC: 11.6K (shhh, don't talk about it)
You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here
enjoy!
As soon as Sam arrived in the library and saw you standing there in those jeans that did wonders for your legs he immediately felt the room grow hotter. He felt like a high school boy who had just hit puberty with the way he was feeling today or as if it was the first time he dreamed with a woman in his bed – or other places for that matter. He did have feelings for you for some time, but everytime he thought about you, he thought about the sweetness of your smile or the way your laugh sounded when you were slightly drunk. Not about how loud he could make you scream his name.
Sam wasn’t innocent, and neither were you. He knew that you weren’t – he had heard, when the motel walls were too thin, the bed hitting against it and some curses of pleasure out of your mouth. And you most definitely knew he wasn’t, telling you and Dean the history he had with Ruby in excruciating detail even made you feel tingly inside.
Sam tried, badly, to be nonchalant about it around you but it was so difficult. Your plump lips moving as you explained the case, sometimes your tongue darting out to wet it, were driving him insane. He paid much more attention to the way you spoke to him with your hand on his shoulder during the drive to the case, your breath lightly hitting his face and reminding him of the hot kiss you shared in his head, your hand practically burning on his skin through his flannel. And when you finally found a motel to crash in for the time you stayed there, you started loading the gun barrels inside the boys room while Sam attempted to research and Dean was reading lore books on the small table the room had. The way you worked your fingers with your gun was so erotic without you even wanting it to be. Sam was on the verge of breaking as he stared at you, who was oblivious to his looks.
But one person that wasn’t oblivious was Dean Winchester. When he looked up from his book to Sam, ready to ask him a question, he almost immediately closed his mouth when he noticed Sam was doing anything but research. He looked at the way his brother was sitting, with an elbow on the table, resting his head on his hand, torso slightly turned in your direction, eyes trained on your hands. Dean then looked at you and was shocked that you hadn’t even acknowledged Sam’s stare. He smirked to himself as he shook his head in disbelief.
Of course Dean knew about Sam’s feelings. He got him to admit to his crush on you one night where the brothers were in a bar alone and you were in a hunt by yourself. Sam had just hung up his phone after talking to you, his slightly slurred words made you chuckle in the other end of the line and, when Sam put his phone down on the table, he wrapped one hand in his beer and sighed dreamily, staring mindlessly at his thumb that brushed the bottle left to right.
“Her laugh is so beautiful, it matches her” He murmured and Dean almost choked on his own beer, eyes widening at his brother, eyebrows furrowed. As if Sam had realized he actually said it out loud and not just thought, he looked over at Dean, face to face with his brother’s amused look. Sam just sighed disappointedly, knowing that there was no way he was escaping this, not even giving the ‘I’m just drunk!’ excuse. So, he just accepted it “Don’t tell her…”
As if all dots connected, Dean leaned back on his chair, a grin on his face as he thought about the interactions you and Sam had with each other and how it was actually quite obvious. “You like her?” Dean asked the obvious and Sam just nodded. After that, as the amazing older brother he is, Dean promised he wouldn’t utter a word to you about this and he was keeping his promise up to this day, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease the youngest about it…
“Hey Sam, have you found anything?” Dean spoke up and that seemed to wake Sam up from his trance. He cleared his throat and desperately tried to make it seem like he was concentrated fully on his assigned task.
“Um, y-yeah, all the victims died of blood loss and.. and there are bite marks…” Sam said, making you look up at him too, throwing your hair back with a movement of your head. Your hands had stopped working on the guns and you got up from the bed you were sitting, leaving the weapon behind. You walked until you were behind Sam and, using his body for support, putting your left hand over his right shoulder, you leaned in to look at the screen, confirming the information yourself.
Sam stiffened up the moment you got closer to him. With the way you were leaning in – your hand on him again – made him take a deep breath to stay put. He had his eyes glued on the laptop screen because he feared that if he glanced at you in any way he wouldn’t be able to control his most primal needs – A.K.A. avoid his sinful thoughts to take over and a boner to rise. He could feel your warmth behind him and, as you nodded and walked away, completely oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions in his head, he finally felt like he could breathe.
“It’s clearly vampires. Thank God we didn’t have to turn libraries upside down to figure this one out” You said with a slight smile to Dean, your arms crossed in front of you. He closed his book with a thud, thankful for not having to do much more. You turned back to Sam who, at this point, had also closed his laptop and seemed lost in thought.
To get your suit in your bag – that you left over the other bed –, you had to go past Sam and, as you did, you brushed a hand over his arm and got closer to his face, snapping him out of his thoughts. You lowered your voice a little, for Dean not to hear what you were about to say, a worried frown in your face.
“Hey, are you doing okay? You seem off” You ask, slightly tilting your head, your eyes searching into his for any kind of discomfort, be it emotional or physical.
Alarms went off inside Sam’s head and, as soon as he could gather his thoughts together, he suddenly stood up, making you pull away from him and widen your eyes, startled. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and he swallowed deeply, trying to moist his dry throat.
“I’m fine” He mumbles before going to the bathroom, brushing past you in a hurry, his arm bumping against your shoulder. You stare at the shut door once he locks himself inside, mouth agape and an offended look on your face. You turn to face Dean again, questioning him with a look. Dean shrugs his shoulders and gets up from his chair.
At this point you felt kind of…hurt. You had done nothing to Sam, not that you were aware of, and your face dropped. Dean felt the need to guarantee you that it was probably nothing but even he was confused. Sam tended to long to be beside you, to touch you, or have any excuse for you to touch him. He swallowed his jealousy when you had asked Dean once to take his shirt off to care for his wounds. That day, as you stitched the gash on his brother's abdomen, Sam stared daggers at Dean, who felt the need to reassure him that you were all Sam’s, that Dean saw you as a little sister and nothing else.
This kind of avoidance towards you was weird to the point even you felt affected by it. You weren’t one to take things to the heart – you’re a hunter for fucks sake – but when it came to the boys, especially Sam, you felt worse than ever. They were often harsh, either with each other or with other people. Of course they had to be tough and mean when it came to it due to their line of work but, behind closed doors, they were the sweetest people you’ve ever met, always caring for you and one another and often sacrificing their own comfort – and sometimes their lives – so other people can sleep without worrying about what’s lurking in the night.
Still, it hurt when you became a victim of their temper and Sam being the one shutting you out this time was not only unexplainable but also like a punch to the gut. Let's say the tall, muscular and smart guy Sam Winchester was had you falling for him quickly – and, soon, harder – than you expected. He always tried to be as sweet as he could be and as understandable. He had a natural instinct to comfort the victims you guys often talked to, always the one to do the talking. You had noticed the way he approached the subject with care, especially if the victim was related to the interviewed in any way, and had taken that as a mental note. Hey, he’s good with words.
But, Sam could also be firm and assertive when it came to it. Once, while you and him were interrogating a guy who wasn’t cooperating at all with you, even when you both were disguised as FBI, Sam snapped. His big hand came with full force against the table, his palm facing down and a loud bang echoing through the small room. It startled you to the point where you jumped slightly, eyes wide as you looked at your ‘partner’. Sam was fuming. His nostrils were flared and his eyebrows were low, casting a shadow over his eyes. He slowly leaned in closer to the guy's face, a wicked grin emerging on his face.
“Look…” He started, voice low, raspy. He gently pulled his suit aside, secretly showing the man his shiny, silver gun safely resting against his hip. You watched as the dude swallowed harshly and his eyes stared at the weapon. “If you won’t cooperate with us…” Sam straightened up, holding both his hands behind his back as he started to walk until he stood beside the guy. He leaned towards his ear, the guy completely frozen. “We are going to rip the truth out of you” He whispered.
You had struggled to keep your composure. The way Sam showed his power over the man – who ended up telling both of you his side of the story after the threat – was distracting. It was safe to say you had discovered something about yourself that day. You had sat the whole ride back to the motel with your legs crossed to numb the throbbing between your thighs as you imagined Sam talking to you that way, in different settings. A cold shower was barely enough to calm you down.
The mix of all these things and other little stuff about the younger brother is what made him special to you. And, now, he was avoiding you.
You sighed and walked back to the bed, sitting beside the guns you’ve left scattered over it, facing Dean’s direction. You leaned on your knees with your elbows, holding your head with your hands, squishing your cheeks and making your pout more prominent than intended. Dean looked at you with pity.
“Did I do something? Say something?” You ask Dean, looking up at him. Dean shakes his head and sighs, getting up from the chair and walking to the mini bar. You knew exactly what he was reaching for and you stretched a hand out to grab the beer bottle once he handed it to you. You opened it easily with your hand and took three big gulps of it. Dean opened his as he sat down beside you this time, on the bed, and threw the lid over the bedside table, the material clinking against the wood.
“Nah, you didn’t do anything, he’s just in a mood” He said but it didn’t seem to help, your face still sad and your head far away, filled with the wrong thoughts. He sighed and gave you a side hug, your head laying against his shoulder. Dean rubbed his hand up and down your upper arm mindlessly to comfort you. “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, you did nothing wrong, he’s just…being Sam, I’m sure this has nothing to do with you, okay? I’ll make sure to kick his ass later” He smiled.
You smiled slightly at the last part, shaking your head at the older Winchester, the typical brotherly teasing something you grew fond of.
Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, Sam was trying to keep it together. He had never felt this way before and it was driving him crazy trying to stay away from you because, at the same time he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if anything he did or said showed his attraction – physical and emotional – towards you, he was dreading this. He longed for your closeness, for your touch, not necessarily in a sexual way, much like the one of concern you had just given him. But right now everything became sexual to him, just your hand over his arms was enough to drive goosebumps over his spine.
He washed his face with the cold water from the sink, brushing his wet hand through his hair. He breathed deeply and dried his face, ready to leave the bathroom and go back to acting as if he didn’t want to kick Dean out of the room and have you right here, right now.
Once he opened the door, he regretted it almost immediately. When he saw Dean so close he clenched his hand against the door handle, swallowing his jealousy. You weren’t his, he reminded himself, he didn’t have the right to be jealous of someone that wasn’t his. But, oh, he was. It was uncontrollable, but undeniable.
He watched Dean’s hand rub up and down your arm, your head laid over his shoulder so comfortably. He bit the inside of his cheek as he approached the both of you to place his laptop back into its case. You had noticed his presence, lifting off of Dean and looking at his side profile. He won’t even look at me. You glanced at Dean, who had also realized his brother’s behavior, and gave him a disappointed look.
You sighed through your nose and grabbed your gun to put in the waistband of your jeans. You also took your bag that you always had with you on hunts, separate from the one with your personal items, and threw it over your shoulder. Dean just stared as you got ready to leave, not stopping you. He needed some alone time with Sam to ask him what the fuck was going on.
“I’m going to the car, we can leave once you’re both ready” You said. Dean acknowledged it with an ‘Okay’ and Sam just hummed. You opened the door and left, angrily walking towards Baby.
As soon as the door closed behind you Dean got up from the bed and aggressively spun Sam around, grabbing at his shoulder.
“Hey–!”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean interrupted, and an angry scowl on his face. He whisper-yelled, still worried that you might hear them. Sam gave him a confused look and Dean rolled his eyes at the stupidity of his brother. “Why are you acting like this with her?”
“Acting like what?” Sam bit back, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Stop pretending like you don’t know Sammy! Why are you ignoring Y/N all of a sudden? Weren’t you the one all” Dean raised his hands, doing quotation marks with both his index and middle fingers “‘head over heels’ for her, hm?”
Now it was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. He crossed his arms in front of him, slightly looking down at his brother due to the height difference. “It’s nothing” He mumbled, looking away. Images of you roamed around his head at Dean’s question and it reminded him why he was doing this in the first place. He was avoiding you for your own good, you and your friendship with him.
“It’s not nothing, damn it, the girl thinks she did something. Did she? Because you sure make it look like you are angry with her” Dean kept poking at the subject, getting on Sam’s nerves. His face softened once his brother told him you felt bad. “What happened?” Dean asked again, this time a little more softly after he noticed Sam’s face drop at his words.
Sam sighed and looked around the room, nervous. He didn’t know if he should actually tell Dean about this – he’d definitely make fun of him endlessly. But still, he didn’t know if making you sad was worth it. He ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he was under pressure and mumbled “I had a dream”
“What?” Dean asked, not understanding whatever language his brother just spoke.
“A dream”
“Dream? What do you mean?”
“I had a dream…with Y/N”
“What do you mean a dream with–” Realization suddenly hits Dean “...Oh” and he relaxes his eyebrows, like he just made sense of everything that happened that day. Then he smirks. Smirks and starts to laugh his ass off as Sam just stands there, cheeks flushed, waiting for his brother to calm down. He knew it.
Sam started to smile slightly as his brother kept trying to talk over his laughter, his embarrassment almost gone. Once Dean finally took a few breaths, a hand on his chest as he dried his fake tears and his laughter died down with a sigh. He looked at Sam who stood there absolutely flushed.
“Man, that’s why you were taking longer in the shower than usual” Dean said with a fake disgust in his face. “Remember me to wash that bathroom twice before using”
“Shut up” Sam mumbled and looked away, suddenly deep in thought. Dean stopped joking and crossed his arms, giving Sam a silent questioning look. Sam glanced at his brother. “What?”
“This kind of still doesn’t answer my question. Why are you avoiding her?” Dean asked and Sam looked at him like he had three heads. “Shouldn’t this make you, and I can’t believe I’m saying this but, excited to be around her”
“Dean, come on, I don’t want her to think I’m a pervert and, besides, she doesn’t even like me that way” And when Sam said that, Dean’s eyeballs almost popped out of his head, his eyes widening at his brother. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, asking the Lord above – better yet, Chuck – to give him the strength to deal with Sam’s stupidity.
“Do you not see it?” He asks. Sam makes a face.
“See what?”
“Oh my God, are you blind Sammy? Or just severely oblivious?” Dean inquiries. “She’s so obviously into you it hurts to watch”
“Dean, please–”
“Don’t ‘please’ me! It’s so clear! She’s always near you when she has the chance, she always insists on helping you when you get hurt on hunts, she looks at you like you’re the last man on Earth, she always worries so much about you…”
“She does the same with you and…” Sam bit the inside of his cheek “...you guys seemed pretty cozy when I came out of the bathroom”
Dean almost hit Sam right then and there, or took one of the guns and shot him through his leg – as a warning. How could he even…?
“Are you fucking serious? That girl is like a sister to me. And why would I even flirt with her when I know you’re into the chick? I’m bad but not that bad, I ain’t stealing your girl” Dean reasures Sam.
His girl. Dean said. But you weren’t his. Sam sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, a million thoughts running through his head. He walked close to the bed and sat down, his and his brother’s guns slightly bouncing over the mattress with the added weight. He held his head in his hands, his hair falling beside his face, his elbows propped over his knees.
“What am I supposed to do?” Sam asks, helpless. Dean shakes his head.
“Talk to her, it’s as simple as that” Dean responded as if it truly was that easy. Sam thought about it. You weren’t gonna hate him for liking you and, maybe, Dean was right and you liked him too. It was a 50/50 chance between rejection and love. He weighed his options and decided in his mind.
Sam suddenly got up, startling Dean. He grabbed his gun and bag, walking around with a determined gaze. Dean accompanied his movements with his eyes, wanting to question the youngest about what conclusion he had gotten to but he was soon with a hand on the door handle and he looked back at his older brother, smiling.
“Let’s go, we have things to kill”
It was safe to say that seeing you in a suit didn’t help Sam’s mind as it roamed back to those thoughts. As said before, you looked good in absolutely anything, but boy could you absolutely tear a man apart with the way you looked. You styled your hair in a more professional way using Baby’s rear view mirror and it looked amazing, your strands glowing in the faint daylight the day had left.
You were both standing close enough so that Sam was able to smell your perfume and the scent of your hair products. It became harder to concentrate on whoever you were interviewing, his eyes wandering to stare at the back of your head, wanting to see inside your brain for any message that said ‘Hey Sam, I’m into you too!’
Dean had gone elsewhere to deal with other things regarding the case so that left you and Sam. Alone. You felt, for the first time in years that you knew Sam, awkward to be around him. On the ride to the witness’ house, you barely talked, something that rarely happened between the two of you. You thought about asking what was wrong but that didn’t work the first time so you hadn’t done it again.
Right now, you sat on the passenger seat of the Impala, staring at Sam's hands gripping the steering wheel. He had hardly looked at you throughout the whole day — or so you thought.
Sam was in an intense battle inside his head and the way you kept looking at him wasn't helping. When he left the room after talking to Dean, he thought he felt brave enough to tell you everything he wanted to but, once he saw you sitting in the backseat in all your beauty, he was reminded of why he hadn't done it before.
He looked at you in secret everytime you were distracted. The way your hips moved when you walked, the way you crossed your legs in the seat every now and then. Oh what he wouldn't give to squeeze your thighs between his fingers right now. You had your arms crossed in front of your chest and — may Sam be forgiven — but the way it made your breasts look when you did that.
He gripped his fingers against the steering wheel even tighter, grounding himself from his thoughts, his knuckles turning white. He sped up the car, unconsciously trying to get back to the motel quicker.
You looked at his side profile then, a quizzical look on your face. He still didn’t look at you.
“Sam” You called. He didn't acknowledge it entirely, his head to focused on not getting a boner at the thought of fucking you in the backseat. You inch closer to him, a hand on his shoulder, “Sam!”
“What!” He answers, dryly. You brush it off, already used to his attitude for the day.
“You don't need to go that fast, we aren't in a hurry, God damn” You huff and pull your hand away from him, sinking back down in your seat angrily.
“Okay, sorry” He mumbles. You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. A message from Dean. You take your phone and read the message. “Found a bar, don’t wait for me to get back ;)”. You chuckle and send an answer back knowing you’d probably only see him next morning. You told him to be safe – in all ways – and not drink too much. Sam looked at you from the corner of his eye. “Who’s that?”
“Madonna” You reply, sarcastically. He doesn’t say anything so you look at his face, which has an annoyed expression over it. “It’s Dean, he found a bar, told us not to wait for him”
Sam hums in acknowledgement and silence settles again, letting your mind wander over the possibilities of why Sam was acting with you this way. You were usually pretty playful, talked a lot with each other, either in the car or before you both parted ways to sleep, each in your own room. This silence, this avoidance was driving you nuts trying to figure out what happened. You felt like crying, honestly, overwhelmed with this feeling inside you. These feelings, plural. Your feelings for Sam mixed with this sickness that downed on you when you would notice he could barely say a word to you.
Lost in your head, you almost didn’t notice when Sam parked Baby in the motel's parking lot, only realizing it when the comforting hum of the engine went away. You both got out of the car, getting your bags in the trunk. You weren’t in the same room as the boys but you felt the need to talk to Sam so, when you came up behind him to his door and got inside his room, stepping in and quickly closing the door behind you, he was confused.
“Aren’t you going to–”
“What’s going on?” You asked, throat tight and heart aching, but you refused to cry. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and you stepped closer to him, standing barely two feet away from the Winchester.
“You’ve been acting cold towards me all day! All damn day. And I have no idea why.” You pressed your index against his chest accusingly, pushing him back slightly, not because you were necessarily stronger, but because you caught him off guard, your outburst was unexpected.
“I didn’t–”
“I tried, okay? I tried to figure out what I did but I…I don’t know. I tried to talk to you earlier today and you brushed me off, you seem incapable of looking at me properly, you’re cold, you’re quiet and I have no idea why so, please tell me. What’s going on?”
Your eyes were glassy and your heart was racing. Sam was speechless, he didn’t know you were feeling this way. Dean had told him, of course, but he had no idea you were actually that affected by his distancing. And to think that he only stood away because he didn’t want to make you feel bad or creeped out about his nervousness, it had the exact opposite effect. He felt his heart sink as he saw you holding back tears and his first instinct was to wrap his arms around you.
You hugged him back, thankful for some reassurance that he at least didn’t hate you, your arms wrapped around his waist and your face pressed against his chest. Sam caressed your head, your hair feeling soft under his fingers.
“You didn’t do anything, Y/N, don’t say that” He told you.
You pulled away from his chest to look at him. “Then tell me what’s wrong”
Sam sighs and closes his eyes momentarily. He had imagined this moment thousands of times, where he told you about how he felt. He couldn’t believe it would be after he ignored you because you were too hot to handle. He looked at you again, drowning in your beautiful eye color, one that he could stare for hours at its beauty. He then looked up, asking for the strength to tell you all he wanted, his throat visible to you as he swallowed his nerves.
“Actually, yeah, you kind of did something” He says, moving his hands until he was holding your upper arms, a smirk on his lips as he eyes you down. You opened your mouth, shocked, but, before you could say anything, he continued. “You drive me crazy, Y/N”
You stood still, scared to move as he talked. You were confused, lost. Hadn’t he just said you had nothing to do with this? Meanwhile, Sam just looked at you for a few seconds, silent. He took you in completely, your body still hidden under the FBI suit but he felt like he already had it memorized. He wanted to touch you, to feel you and he felt like, if he held back any longer, he could lose you. Lose you to someone who wasn’t scared of loving you. “Sam, I don’t–”
“Just– Look at you. You are one of the most amazing women I know, you’re strong, you’re smart, you– God, there’s no words that can describe just how incredible you are. You care for people more than you do for yourself and, even if that makes me angry sometimes, it just shows how big of a heart you have” He takes a breath. “You can be dying but you’d still put a bandaid on someone's scraped knee just because they asked you to, because you care.”
Sam slowly moves his hands to hold you by your neck, his rough palms hot against your skin. You had no words, you just hoped that your eyes could talk for you as you stared into his hazel ones. You had so much to say but words refused to form in your mouth. You never thought Sam would be the one to confess, hell, you never thought he even liked you that way. Hearing him say those things was like getting hit by a train of happiness. You raised your hands to wrap around his wrists, gently holding them as you prayed for him to continue.
“You’re the girl I picture to be forever in my life, if not as a lover, please let it be as a friend. I can’t bear the thought of losing you, but, at the same time, I can’t keep these feelings to myself much longer. If you don’t want me that way, it’s fine, but I need you here with me, one way or another” Sam finishes and starts searching your face for any kind of reaction. He just put his heart in your hands and it was up to you to shatter it or not. He felt his nerves on fire. He rubbed his thumb against your jawline to keep himself grounded and hold onto the comforting thought that you hadn’t pulled away from his touch.
You suddenly smiled, wide and proud. Sam seemed to relax when he saw it, a breath he didn’t know he was holding coming out of his mouth. You felt a rush of happiness go through you as you realized he wasn’t avoiding you because he was mad at you, he was avoiding you because he wanted you so bad he felt like he could make you mad. And that was so Sam. It was exactly like him to tone down his own feelings because of other people and how they might feel, even if it eats him on the inside. What felt even better is that he managed to muster up the courage to come here and tell you about everything in the most Sam way possible, in a way that made shivers run through you.
“Sam Winchester, if you don’t kiss me right now I might just–” He didn’t even let you finish, his plump lips crashing against yours in earnest. He waited months for this and there was no way he was delaying this further. Your words are swallowed down by his mouth along with a surprised gasp you let out. One of his hands went further until it held you behind your neck, his thumb still caressing your jaw as relieved breaths came out of his nose, he was so nervous he would get dumped and his heart crushed that kissing you felt better than anything he ever imagined. The dream might’ve been good but actually kissing you felt so, so much better.
Your lips were sweet and your skin felt soft, a big contrast against his rough hands from handling weapons and burning bones. Those dreams of his came to mind yet again, the thought of exploring your whole body with his mouth made him groan, opening his mouth and teasing your lips with his tongue so you’d open them. You gladly did, letting one of your hands wrap around the base of his neck, pulling him in.
He lowered one of his hands to your waist through the inside of your black suit, pulling your body flush against his, squeezing your skin through the layers of clothing, eager to feel every inch of you. You groaned at his touch, a surge of heat polling into your belly. His hands took the opportunity to explore what he could – like dream Sam did – trailing his fingers up your back and you shivered, the light touch just making your need for him bigger.
His tongue explored your mouth, the kiss growing more heated within the moment. He starts to gently take the suit off your body, sliding it against your arms without breaking the kiss. Sam thinks for the first time in the last few seconds. He thinks about all the times he imagined being able to do this and, now that he had the chance and his feelings were reciprocated, he wanted to make it as good as possible for the both of you. He pulls away, wanting to make sure that you are on board with this.
His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are flushed as he looks at you, pupils dilated with desire – desire for you. Not once in your life have you thought that Sam would look at you that way – and God how much you dreamed of it. He was always much more secretive with his antics than Dean was, often keeping to himself instead of bragging about it, but you knew. You knew he was a passionate lover and the way he behaves just gives away how much of a gentleman he must be in bed.
“Is this okay? Are you okay with this?” He asked you, voice filled with lust and deeper than his usual. You could’ve melted right then and there as he looked between your eyes, searching for any discomfort. Instead of telling him, you decided to show Sam how bad you wanted him. You slowly walked back, dropping the suit he already had taken halfway off from your body to the ground. You didn’t take your eyes off of him and he stared intensely at you right back, attentive to what you were going to do.
Your hands slowly trailed up your body, roaming through your curves and you see Sam swallow, his fists clenching and unclenching beside him, his throat so deliciously biteable. Once your fingers arrived at the top button of your white shirt, you started to unbutton one by one, slowly. You took your time, eyes trained on his with a smirk on your lips. You were playing bold but the way he was looking at you made your knees weak. His eyes were analyzing every movement of your hands and he stood unbelievably still, like a hunter watching its prey, careful to not scare it away.
Once the last button was undone, you dropped the white clothing to the ground. You now stood in your bra, the cold of the room hitting your skin and making goosebumps rise over it. You got closer to the man again and he accompanied you with his hazel orbs, now a tone darker due to his dilated pupils and the poor lighting in the room. You took one of his hands and placed it against your bare skin, the hot touch making you sigh before grabbing him by the neck with the other hand, bringing his face closer but, instead of kissing him, you placed your mouth closer to his ear.
“I want you, Sam” You whisper in his ear and leave a kiss right below it. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, keeping as much control as he could, biting his lower lip. He groans and a ton of thoughts go through his head – you, naked below him, your attitude gone as he fucks it out of you, pleasurable moans of his name coming out of your mouth. I want you, you said. He strongly grips your hips with both hands, making you yelp, and pushes you towards the bed, manhandling you successfully. Once your back is against the mattress, Sam immediately attacks your neck, kisses and bites making you sigh his name and arch your back into him.
“You have no idea what you do to me” He mumbled against your skin. And, really, you had no clue. He had spent the whole day thinking about this exact moment. The whole day, more like the last 4 months. The months where he had the urge to smash whatever man’s head that flirted with you against a wall and kiss you right then and there, in front of everyone to show who you truly belonged to. “For ages I’ve been thinking about you like this, you are everything that I think about and it’s driving me insane. You drive me insane”
He bites you particularly harder and you moan, your hand flying to his head and tugging at his hair. “Sam!” Your plea came out pathetically needy and he pulled away from your neck to look you in the face, his strong arms caging you beneath him and making you focus solely on the grin he had displayed on his lips. He kisses your lips again, passionate and needy, a groan rippling deep in his throat.
With his lips still glued to yours, he tugged his own suit away from his body, fumbling with the clothing and throwing it away so quick you barely noticed it, loosening his tie and bringing his hands right back to your body, because now that he could touch you, there was nothing in the world that could take him away. He landed his hands on your ribs and trailed then behind your back, his fingers teasing against your bra.
He broke the kiss and with unsteady breaths close to your mouth he asked: “Can I?” as he teases his finger under the bra strap. You hummed in approval and grabbed both his cheeks, giving him a firm peck on the lips to emphasize it.
“Yes, you can, please” You say. It came out much needier than intended but Sam didn’t seem to mind. You thought he didn’t, but he did. He smiled at you, feeling pride in the thought of making you needy and, hearing your voice – that’s so assertive and strong on a daily basis – breathy and desperate, made him wonder why he hadn’t done this earlier. You looked stunning under him and no dream could ever picture what he was seeing. Your eyes hooded, mouth agape and thumbs caressing the stubble on his face, eager to touch him as much as he was to touch you. He was looking right through the gates of heaven.
He proceeded to unclasp your bra, gently taking it off of you. He does all that without taking his eyes off your face and only allows himself to look down once the undergarment was long forgotten, laying on the ground. You didn’t know what to do or where to look, turning your face from him and feeling your cheeks heat up. You, of course, had been with other men in bed and you never truly cared if they didn’t think of you above a one night stand – you didn’t think much of them either. But Sam made you feel nervous. He was being so caring up until now, contrasting against most men you’ve been with, the thought of not reciprocating it properly made you shy below him.
He was appreciating the perfection he had under him, his fingers trailing your sides affectionately when he noticed your face turning away. You were biting your lip and avoiding his piercing gaze and he raised a hand to hold your chin, slowly turning your face to look at him again. He kissed you to ease your nerves but, this time, it wasn’t lustful, it wasn’t simply a carnal need, he kissed you with love, with passion and you could feel it tearing through your soul, his feelings pouring out and painting your insides.
He pulled back again and his eyes traveled through your face as a smile painted his lips. “You’re beautiful” He says and you smile back at him widely, your heart racing in your chest. You didn’t know what to say to that so you grabbed at his loose tie that hung just below your jaw and pulled him in harshly, smashing your lips against his. The unexpected move made Sam lose his balance and you took the opportunity to change your positions, laying him back on the bed as you straddled his waist with your legs.
Sam gripped your hips as you made out, gently rolling you over him and you felt it. You felt him under you through the clothing you both still had on and a whine escaped your lips into the kisses. Sam leaves your lips to start attacking your neck, leaving hickeys and bites behind. He was holding onto the last ounce of control he had, you were just so much. Every little noise you made went straight to his cock and he couldn’t handle it anymore, you still had too much clothing on and he needed to do something about it.
Sam turned both of you over again and left your lips to stand straight in front of you. The sight of you half naked, splayed out over the bed, hair messed up, shiny spots from his saliva against your neck and collarbone was very close to the sight he’d dreamed about. But a hundred times better. Because this was real, he was touching you, kissing you, marking you and making you his.
He felt suffocated in his own clothes and he took the opportunity to take off his tie and his white shirt along the way, slowly revealing his defined body. You swallowed to try and not drool over the sight, his strong physique covered by a thin layer of sweat, the tattoo he had on his chest contrasting against his tanned torso and few scars he had here and there. Some were white, others were pink-ish – more recent – but he looked fabulous no matter what. You’d seen him shirtless before, while patching him up or when the bunker was too hot for either of the brothers but none of those situations were as intimate as this. He was half naked only for your eyes to see – as much as you were for his.
He noticed your stare and he smirked as he approached your lower belly with his mouth. You held your breath and closed your eyes as his mouth made contact with your skin. From then on, he kissed his way up, biting here and there in places only you would know if the mark was still there the next day. He kissed your own scars that were scattered through your torso softly, treating them with care because, as much as him, you had gotten hurt on hunts. Besides, he found it amazing how strong you were. He admired you and your scars were there to prove to everyone who saw you that you were a fighter.
His hands came up alongside his kisses, caressing your sides so lightly it was almost ticklish. When his mouth got to the valley of your breasts he looked up at you, a question in his eyes. He had his hands placed right below your boobs, not moving, not touching them, just there as he waited for your approval. You were burning up from the inside out, the sight was so much. His eyes pleading for you to let him touch you, his hair making a curtain around his face.
“Touch me, Sam” You whisper, knowing that even if it wasn’t loud, he could hear you. He grinned and went right into action, his hands filling themselves up with your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. You let out a low moan, the little stimulation you got from his fingers finally doing something to soothe the fire inside you.
He joined with his mouth, sucking and licking deliciously at it. You flew a hand to tangle into his hair, unconsciously tugging at his roots when he lightly bit at your nipple. Sam would groan against your skin every time you would tighten your fingers in his hair and he felt like he could cum just by hearing your faint pleas and breathless whines. He continued kissing up after that, his hands still squeezing your breasts lightly.
His mouth marked your collarbones with hickeys, painting your skin with reds and purples. He nipped at your neck, sucking at your pulse point and you bucked your hips against his, the pleasure too much and too little all at once. He was taking his time with you, appreciating every second that he could get and yet you felt his desperation when he tightened his hands around your boobs once your crotch hit his.
You tugged his hair harder to bring his face close to yours and Sam complied. You smashed your lips against his, the kiss all tongue and teeth, completely desperate. Your breathing was heavy and Sam brought his hands to your back, lifting it off the bed and making your chest glue against his, your sensitive nipples grinding against his skin. You clawed your nails on his shoulders to keep yourself together, markings that looked like half moons left behind in your desperation to remind you all this was real.
You dragged your hands down his arms, nails lightly scraping over his skin, and gently guided his forearms down, his hands going along. He proceeded to rest his palms over your covered ass, groaning in your mouth when he realized what you were insinuating. You wanted more, needed more.
You pulled back from his mouth just enough so you could talk. You opened your eyes to see one of the sexiest views you’ve ever encountered. Sam’s mouth was open, unsteady breaths hitting your mouth as his eyes stared down at you. You brought a hand to his cheek and just appreciated the sight for a moment before your mouth gave him an open mouthed kiss below his jaw. You felt goosebumps down your spine when he moaned lightly at your action, his hands squeezing at your ass. You placed your mouth close to his ear and Sam closed his eyes, waiting to see what you were going to do now.
“Fuck me, Sammy, don’t hold back” You whispered and Sam’s knees almost gave out, the nickname he usually hated hearing sounding so sweet coming out of your mouth. He pulled back to look at you.
“Are you sure?” He asked, looking between your mouth and your eyes. You nodded.
“Yes” Was all you had to say before he grabbed at the hem of your pants, dragging them down your legs. He distanced himself from you to kneel between your legs, face to face with your covered pussy, the only thing you were wearing now being your panties.
After discarding your pants, Sam roamed his hands slowly up your legs, from your ankles to where your hips connected to your thigh. You were clenching and unclenching your fists beside your body, holding your torso up with your elbows and looking down to see him hypnotized by your soaked underwear, his eyes glued. You were embarrassedly wet and, as Sam dragged a finger over it, grinding against your neglected clit, you bucked against his hand, whining.
“Sam…” You pleaded and he finally looked up at you. You were taking deep breaths, your chest going up and down, decorated by the marks left by his mouth and teeth. You looked stunning. “Do something”
And he does. He kisses right above your covered sex and you moan deep in your throat again, fingers gripping the sheets. Sam was feeling pride in himself. He was the one who got you like this, not any other man. He was the one you were begging for and he was the one who was going to give you everything you wanted. He wanted to worship you atom by atom of your being because that was what you deserved, he was going to treat you like the goddess you were.
He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and, like he was opening a present he long wished for, – which was kind of true – he takes it off so calmly you were close to combusting. When Sam finally sees you completely nude for the first time, only for his eyes to see and outside of his dirty dreams, he hums in delight. Fucking hums. He’s done for the moment he sees your cunt, wet and glistening just for him. Oh how badly he wanted this, for so, so long he wanted you like this and now he was finally fulfilling his deepest desire.
He squeezes your thighs in his hands before reaching for your sex, his middle finger collecting your wetness in his finger. You buck against his hand again, this time even more sensitive and neglected than before. And you cry out, not with tears, but a desperate sob for attention. Sam notices that and looks up at your face to see your eyebrows furrowed and a sheen of sweat in your forehead, you looked so fucked out without even him actively doing anything. He softened and caressed your sides with his hands, soothing your nerves – or trying to, at least.
“Shh, pretty girl, I’m gonna take care of you” He says “I’m just appreciating how perfect you are, taking my time with the girl of my dreams”
Your face softened and you felt your cheeks warm up even more than they already were. You bit back a smile. You felt unique at that moment, as if you were the only woman in the world as he said the sweetest words inches away from your pussy, it was almost laughable to think that one of the most romantic things you’ve ever heard was said between your legs.
Sam smiled at you and started kissing your inner thighs, so close yet so far from where you truly wanted him. He loved kissing your skin, he loved to feel you and you were keeping that in mind. He expressed his love physically rather than using words and you were just realizing it wasn’t just in bed he was like that. He always wanted to cook for you, he knew how you liked your drink, he would take care of you when you would get too drunk or when you were hurt or not feeling great. He hugged you, kissed the top of your head, pranked you. He gave you his jacket when you were cold or for you to use as a pillow when you were sleeping on a longer ride. He protected you, even if he knew you didn’t need it, either literally, putting his body in front of yours when someone or something threatened you, or not letting you go alone on hunts – including this one, where you had offered to go alone to questioning and, even if he was technically avoiding you, he wasn’t going to let you go solo.
Sam had loved you for so long and you were oblivious. Were. Because now he was digging his fingers in your thighs, mouth closing over your clit and you were arching your back. His stubble scratched your inner thighs, adding more to the building pleasure in your belly. He sucked at your cunt so skillfully that you wondered how long you would last like this and how much he had practiced to have a mouth that was able to do that. He moved his hands to your ass again, bringing your hips up and burying his face deeper into your heat.
He felt like he could die happy between your thighs because he wasn’t leaving there anytime soon. You were delicious and he was drinking in your noises like a drug, getting high off his lust and your taste. He hummed and groaned against your pussy, his cock pulsing so bad it practically hurt, almost cumming in his pants just from this.
“Sam– Oh God, please, please, plea–se” You cried out, the pleasure almost too much, the foreplay making you sensitive to a level you felt everything ten times harder. Sam knew exactly what he did to you, it was like he edged you consciously, knowing you’d beg for him louder once he finally got to touching you. And damn him because it worked, you were a moaning mess and he would be lying if it didn’t stroke his ego to hear you plead for him, submitting to his ministrations so quickly, it was adorable.
He was eating you out with everything he had, digging his nails on your skin. You were soon close to the edge, tightening your thighs around his head so he would not pull away. Everything around you consisted only of him, his scent, his noises, his body, him. It was overwhelming and, with a loud cry of his name, you came, hard.
The room went out of focus, your eyes rolling back in pure pleasure. You had trapped Sam’s head between your legs and he hadn’t stopped. He kept licking you clean, completely lost in your pussy. He could stay like that forever, until his jaw went sore, just so that he could hear you over and over again while he’s nose deep into your cunt. He only comes back to the real world – the one that doesn’t consist in an infinite loop of your voice moaning his name – when you pull at his hair and your thighs open space to let him get up.
“T’much Sammy'' You say, breathless. You bring him up from your cunt, and look at his face, glistening with your juices, a giddy smile on his lips – like a kid who just got a truckload of candy dumped at their house – and cheeks red from the heat. You smile back at him and giggle. Who would’ve thought that he would make you cry for him to touch you and, minutes later, you’d be laughing at his mischievous grin from making you cum.
You brought him back up with a hand behind his neck and he gladly crawled on the bed until he was face to face with you again, his hands supporting his upper body so he wouldn’t crush you. You looked at him for a few seconds, a look that you intended to fill with love and care and he reciprocated, his head angling 45° with a gentle smile that made him look absolutely adorable. You put a strand of his hair behind his ear, which proved useless as it fell right back to curtain his face, his hair being too straight and too soft to hold up like that. You chuckled lightly and pulled him in for a kiss.
You could taste yourself on his tongue, the saltiness making you hum in his mouth. The kiss grew heated fast and you started to roam your hands over his chest, his muscles tensing under your light palms. You explored his body as much as he did to yours, caressing over every visible muscle he had – which, honestly, was a lot. When you got to his abs, Sam broke the kiss to let out a shaky breath. He gently grabbed your wrists and kneeled on the bed, his body now in its full glory above you, the lightning in the room making his body even more defined.
With your wrists in his hand, Sam dragged your palms, that were flattened against his skin, lower. And lower. Until you were touching the hem of his pants that he still, incredibly, had on. You stared at the bulge he had right below, swallowing thickly and letting out a deep breath, your cunt clenching in response. He looked big. You should have an idea, Sam was 6’4, of course it would be proportional to his height but God if it didn’t make you think about swallowing him down, the tip hitting the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as he fucked your face.
“Want me to take them off?” You hear his voice, snapping you out of your fantasies. You looked up at him and down again. You hooked your fingers in the waistband and, on cue, Sam let go of your wrists. You slowly brought his pants and underwear down at the same time, too eager to keep up the foreplay and too desperate to tease.
When you finally see it, an audible groan reverbates in the back of your throat. Sam moans lowly, the pain from the constriction caused by his boxers and pants finally going away and making him even more aware of the neglect his dick got up til now. He watches your reaction carefully and, one of the first things you do is throw your legs back, standing on your knees, one hand supporting your body as the other stops midway to his dick. Sam felt his whole body burn with need. God what did he do to deserve you.
You were on all fours in front of him, head inches from his cock, eyes now looking up at him with a question. You felt like if you opened your mouth you would drool, you needed him inside it and you were silently asking him if it was okay.
Sam angled his torso to bring his face closer to yours, grabbing your chin with his hand and giving you a firm peck on the lips. “Do it, beautiful” He whispered against your mouth and straightened up again and you confirmed with a nod before wrapping your hand around his dick.
Sam breathed out when you started to pump him, your hand doing light movements. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of your name, a silent plea and you gladly listened. You wrapped your mouth around the tip, just the tip for now, and circled your tongue around it, the salty taste of precum invading your mouth. Sam’s hand instantly flew to your head, encouraging you to take him deeper, but not forcing you. Still, you started to relax your throat and took as much of him as you could, hollowing your cheeks.
“Y/N, baby, Jesus” Sam sighed and your insides tingled. You took what you couldn’t take in your mouth with your hand, squeezing and pumping using your spit as lube. You could feel Sam holding back, his hips stuttering every now and again. You braced yourself, deciding to give him more, and placed your hands on his thighs, tapping it twice with your index finger. Sam looked down at you, swallowing his breathy groans. He damn near came just by looking at you, those beautiful eyes staring up at him, your mouth wrapped around his dick. He concentrated, remembering the silent message you sent him.
“I don’t want to hurt you” He said and you did your best to shake your head no in your conditions. You won’t. And emphasized it by squeezing his thighs and pushing your head forward. Sam sighed and nodded. “Okay, but if it’s too much, tap three times, get it doll?” He asked. The nickname made you shiver, his voice sounding so sweet calling you that. Brushing it off you tapped his thigh three times, just for him to know you understood what he said.
Sam started to rock his hips back and forth slowly, using your mouth for his pleasure. All you did was relax your throat as much as you could and breathe through your nose. He started to quicken up within time, losing his control as his release came closer. He was grunting and moaning and all his noises went straight to your pussy. He let out sighs of your name, his head thrown back and his neck glistening with sweat, his Adam's apple bobbing everytime he swallowed.
Too enamored by his noises, you lost focus and gagged on his cock, tears stinging your eyes. Sam loudly moaned your name at that, hips faltering as he tugged at your head to take your mouth off his cock. His breathing was heavy and his mouth was dry and he stood face to face with you to kiss your lips again, moaning inside your mouth. You were a bit disappointed that he hadn’t cum but you swallowed his whines gladly with your mouth, clasping your hands on each one of his cheeks. He pulled away and caressed a thumb over your lips.
“What have you got in that mouth of yours sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk and you bit your lip.
“Says the one who was eating me out like a starved man” You replied, wrapping one arm around his neck as your index finger traced his lips before giving them a peck, smiling once you pulled away. He smiled at you before wrapping his arms around your waist, like he would in a hug, and throwing you back. You shrieked as you landed on your back and Sam laid practically on top of you, attacking your face with tiny kisses, making you laugh under him.
Once he stopped, he just stared down at you. “Hi” He said.
“Hi” You whispered back after your laugh died down.
“Did I already tell you you’re beautiful?”
“Once…twice”
“You’re beautiful” He said, again “I’ll never stop telling you that”
“I can deal with it” You teased and he chuckled, going right back to kissing you.
Sam was one of a kind. You had taken some time to truly understand why you had fallen in love with him in the first place but there was not just one thing that made Sam Winchester special, everything he did just added up. From the huge things to the tiny details, he just was so easy to fall in love with and these moments were definitely one of those in the list, in which, no matter the situation, good or bad, Sam could make you smile.
As he kissed you now, his hands roamed your body like he had done before until two of his fingers teased at your entrance and you rolled your hips against his hand. Blowing him had made you aroused again and you could feel your wetness coating his fingers. Sam smirked in your mouth before slowly inserting his middle and ring finger inside your wetness. Your mouth left his to let out a moan, your foreheads glued.
Sam opened his eyes to watch your expression as he hooked his fingers inside you. You whined, your eyebrows furrowed and your nails left angry red trails over his shoulders. He lowered his head to kiss your neck open mouthed. He started to scissor his fingers inside you, preparing for what you knew was coming and you gladly relaxed around his fingers, grinding your cunt on his digits.
“Sweetheart, I need to be inside you, I need you” He whispered in your ear and you whined at the thought, nodding in approval.
“Yes, Sammy, please” You breathlessly said. Sam took his fingers out from your hole and you held back a complaint from the emptiness once you saw him pumping his hardened cock with the hand he used his fingers to prepare you, lubricating himself with your juices. He lined himself up with your entrance and looked at you again.
He wanted to watch you as he sunk himself into your heat and that’s what he did. He slowly started to enter you and your mouth opened in a silent moan at the stretch. He was filling you up deliciously well, right in the division between pain and pleasure and, the deeper he went, the harder your nails dug on his shoulders.
Sam was also struggling. Your tightness enveloped him in a way no one had ever done before and it felt so fucking good to bury himself inside you. He started to distract you from the possible painful stretch with kisses over your collarbones and neck, focusing on relaxing your body so he could make love to you properly.
At last, you felt his pelvis connect with yours and you were so amazingly full. His dick hit places inside you you could never reach alone and it felt incredible.
Once you were used to his size and craving more, you rolled your hips against his, making Sam suck in a breath. He was trying to keep his composure but he was holding on his last ounces of control and when you moved he damn nearly lost it.
“You can move” You whisper and Sam wastes no time fulfilling your request, immediately starting to pump into you. He was euphoric, his mind was blurry as only images of you naked under him and begging for him to fuck you went through his head. You would tighten your walls around him from time to time and that would cause his breathing to falter and his hips to stutter.
You weren’t much different, every buck of his hips would hit you in a spot that made you see starts. You were already overstimulated from his previous ministrations so you knew you weren’t going to last long and, from the way Sam was twitching inside you, you knew he wasn’t going to either.
“Sam, I’m s’close” You moaned close to his ear.
“Me too, baby” He said as he brought his hand to press over your lower belly. You nearly screamed as he did that, you could feel him even better, his shape feeling like it was being permanently molded inside you. Along with it, he reached a thumb to rub over your clit – his big hands be damned – and at that you finally went over the edge with a desperate cry of his name.
Your vision blurred as the only thing you knew was real was the feeling of emptiness since Sam was chasing his own release after leaving your warmth. He pumped his cock a few times and proceeded to cum over your belly, painting your skin with his liquids. You were spread out on the bed for a while longer after that, Sam panting above you, his softening dick still in his hand and you completely fucked out with a lazy smile on your face.
Once that high passed, Sam took you to the bathroom – bridal style – and cleaned you up in the bathtub with warm water and gave you the privacy you needed after he sorted himself out too, leaving the bathroom on his boxers.
You took your time, using the toilet so as to not get any infections and leaving the bathroom completely naked, too lazy to actually put clothes on. You just wanted to sleep beside Sam and wake up happy in his arms.
He saw you coming out of the room and smiled, eyeing you up and down.
“No clothes?” He asked
“Unless you’re uncomfortable, I think we’re past that” You joked and he shook his head.
“I don’t mind, come here” He said, opening an arm to invite you to lay over his chest and you gladly did, jumping on the bed and wrapping your arms around his torso, laying your head on his firm chest. Sam covered both of you with the white sheets, hiding your exposed body under them. You laid silent for a moment, just drowning in each other's company as you listened to his steady heartbeat.
Sam caressed your upper arm, his mind running with a thousand thoughts in which a thousand and one consisted of you.
“Hey, want to know something?” Sam asked. He was taking advantage of the situation because now he was confident enough to do so, and he wasn’t delaying this any further if his mind would allow him. You lazily looked up at him, your chin now resting on him. Your eyes stared at him with so much appreciation that he felt even more encouraged to tell you what he wanted to.
“I think I love you” He blurted out. You felt your face warm up and smiled widely, but didn’t lose the opportunity to tease him for his choice of words.
“You think?” You raised an eyebrow. Sam panicked inside.
“No, I mean that–”
“I think I love you too” You interrupted before he could say anything else, your giddy smile never faltering. Sam relaxed and pulled you in for a kiss to seal this promise.
Who would’ve thought that Sam would have his dream come true at the end of everything. Yet, here you were, half-asleep in his arms after you admitted your love for each other.
A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading. XoXo
#supernatural#sam winchester#spn#writers on tumblr#supernatural fanfiction#jared padalecki#supernatural fic#spn smut#spn fic#spn fanfic#spn fanfiction#spn x you#spn x reader#spn x y/n#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester fanfic#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester smut#sam winchester x female reader#sam x reader#sam winchester fluff#smut#fluff#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#supernatural x reader#supernatural fandom#supernatural fanfic
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too good to be true || barcelona x teen!reader ||
you learn not to meet your hero the hard way.
all that you had ever wanted since you were old enough to have ambitions was to play for barcelona. every single day and night that you could spend on a field was spent there getting better. that hard work didn't go unnoticed by those around you, and your community rallied around you to get you to la maisa. and from there, you kept your head down and worked hard to make it to barcelona's senior team with your idol, alexia putellas.
the video package and media done when you were announced to the senior squad played heavily on the fact that you were playing with your idol. pictures of you dressed as alexia for halloween or hero days at school were all over barcelona's social media pages. the country seemed to fall in love with you, and they all rooted for the mentorship and possible friendship they hoped would blossom between you and alexia.
the bubble of happiness and excitement was quickly burst when you met alexia. the few interactions you had with before signing with the team were wildly different than the first time you met her as an official culer. the alexia from before had been warm and friendly, even if she was a bit awkward. this alexia was mean, and didn't try to hide the distaste she had for you one bit.
"hi pequena, what are you doing out here?" mapi asked you. the nickname had been bestowed upon you early on, despite you being one of the tallest members of the team. whenever you were little, your parents had teased you about having to buy a skyscraper if you continued to grow the way you had. you stopped around 13 or so, but by that time, you felt like a giant.
"practicing. they told me that i could start in the game against levante if i bring my conversion rate up a bit more at practice," you said proudly. mapi knew the way that you played well, so she knew who you'd be replacing in that game. alexia didn't want to sit games out for rest, not when she felt like she had finally come back from such a devastating injury. still, this was great news for you, so mapi would celebrate with you even if alexia would hate you for it.
"that's great, pequena. i'm so proud of you. i can't wait to see you walk out as a starter." mapi grabbed your head and pulled you down to press a kiss to your forehead. "don't hurt yourself. no pressure, but i'm counting on you."
"i've got this. i know i do. playing with alexia has made me the best version of myself that i can be."
…
"what is this bullshit! this is an easy win, why aren't you playing me?" alexia was on a rampage. several of the girls looked around the locker room until irene and marta stood up.
"alexia, you said it yourself, it's an easy win. you don't need to be out there for a game like this, so just take the rest day and relax. look, it's pequena's first game, let her have this," marta said. it was reasonable, and that only seemed to aggrevate alexia even more. she didn't want to be reasonable about this, she wanted to be angry. it was like she was being replaced by you, which she absolutely hated.
"of course it's about her! it's always about your precious pequena. she'll never amount to anything if you all continue to baby her," alexia huffed. you watched her storm off, unsure of what to do. alexia was your hero, and for her to speak or think so poorly of you was absolutely devastating.
"don't listen to her. you know what, don't even think of her. come on, let's talk strategy," pina said as she pulled you to sit down. you didn't want to talk strategy or do anything. all you wanted to do was run away and never come back. maybe your legendary barcelona run would have to wait until alexia had retired and wouldn't be there to bring you down on yourself.
"i feed you and caro the balls when i can, and if you're tied up and i have room, i run in myself. it's not rocket science, the same play we've been running all week," you said shortly. pina looked taken aback by your tone, but she didn't mention it. she understood what alexia meant to you, and a part of her felt guilty that alexia hadn't ever snapped at her like she had with you. you had done absolutely nothing to deserve alexia's wrath, and yet, the older midfielder seemed to absolutely despise you.
it was hard, but you didn't let alexia's feelings towards you completely ruin your excitement about the game. you could see your family in the stands, everybody cheering loudly for you when they called your name. the hugs from ingrid and pina definitely helped to lift your spirits, both women whispering how proud they were of you before you all took your positions.
you had the support of the majority of your team, but it was easy to get hung up on what you didn't have when it was constantly dangled right in front of your face. alexia was there for the other girls, but not you, never you. it always loomed over you, threatening to make you cry without a moment's notice. and yet, you still worked hard for her approval. extra training sessions, extra workouts, and more effort than you had thought possible all for nothing to show. you decided as you looked at alexia chatting happily with some of the younger subs that you'd give her a reason to hate you if she was so set on it.
…
"what a goal! i can't wait to see you in a spain jersey," cata said as she pulled you in for a hug. you blushed at the compliments that poured in from your teammates. despite the fact that you had just scored on cata during the scrimmage, she had come up to you to congratulate you.
"you might just have the best left foot in the game." you shrunk back as ona put her arm around you.
"careful, she might get cocky," frido teased. she knew better than anybody how unlikely that was. frido swore that she could give you a million compliments, but you never acted like you deserved any of them. you thought that you were just doing your job, even if your teammates thought it was amazing. you wanted a compliment from one person who was very unwilling to give it to you.
"can we get back to the game now? how do you expect to win a champions' league final if we're all just standing around talking all training?" alexia asked. her tone was harsher than normal. you immediately put your head down and started to walk away when cata spoke up.
"we'll win because we're the best. we have the best players in the world here, and despite what you think (y/n) is one of them. she's part of the squad, and you should act like it," cata said. mapi moved in between the two women as they shifted towards each other. it was very obvious that a fight was on the verge of breaking out, which you didn't want at all.
"it's fine. alexia is right, we should get back to practice," you mumbled.
"no, no it's not fine. pequena, how does the way that alexia treats you make you feel?" mapi asked as she shifted to hold alexia in front of her. she forced the midfielder to look at you as you answered her question.
"i don't understand it. she's nice and friendly with everyone else, but she's cordial at best with me. i try to work hard for an ounce of what she gives everyone else. i don't like it, and i don't think i want to play here with her," you admitted.
alexia looked incredibly guilty as mapi let go of her. still, she didn't even try to apologize. she just walked away with her head hung as mapi and a few of the others yelled at her. a part of you wanted to feel good about your teammates standing up for you, but instead you felt like you had caused a lot of useless tension in the team.
that guilty feeling followed you along for weeks. you let it absolutely exhaust you before you realized that it wasn't really your fault. most of your teammates loved and accepted you, and running from alexia wouldn't garner you anything close to respect. she had just walked away from you whenever the team brought up her behavior, and that seemed to be the last straw for you. it wouldn't be easy, but you had to make yourself stop caring about what alexia thought.
#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso imagine#teen!reader#barcelona femeni x reader#barcelona femeni imagine#barcelona x reader#barcelona imagine
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Hey Dove~
I was reading through the different headcannons and the mute reader really caught my attention. Could you possibly do the Vice Wardens (including Ruggie cuz he's basically second in command anyway) with Yuu that has a speech impediment? Basically they stutter/stumble on words, get them mixed up, pronounces them wrong, and maybe forgets certain words. And obviously with new arcana and magical words (and the weird ahh names some of these characters have) they can get pretty frusterated or embarressed.
You always have such good headcannons!! Feel free to throw in any other characters that you like to the mix as well!!
OH this hits close to home too. I stutter and mispronounce things when I do speak, so I'm using that for reference
twst x mute reader
*��✩‧₊˚ reader with a speech impediment
summary: as described type of post: headcanons characters: trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu
see, I don't think Trey would say anything about it
he's not one to criticize strangeness
that would be rude, first of all
second of all, there's no such thing as "normal" at NRC
(even so, some people may point it out, but he's not one of them)
he doesn't have any trouble understanding you, either
he grew up with younger siblings who pronounced owl as "awa" and kitty as "shishi" until they were six
he's certainly patient
and he knows how to use context
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
honestly? Ruggie didn't even... notice?
for a while, he just thought you talked fast
he knows how it goes; you get excited or nervous or whatever, and you end up stumbling all over yourself
no biggie
then one day you come up to him all sad and teary, apologizing for a speech impediment he didn't even know you had, and he's like...
...oh! no!
of course he's not annoyed!
Ruggie's an adaptive guy, after all. when he wants something, he'll bend backwards for it
you think a little stuttering is gonna stop him from being friends with you?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
much like Trey, Jade doesn't say anything
he just watches you talk
and smiles
like this -> :)
it's not that he's particularly concerned about being rude, he's just...
observing
humans are such fascinating creatures, he thinks
he learns all of your quirks just by listening to you
which words you have trouble with, which ones you mix up and forget, which consonants you stumble over...
he teaches himself your language
and he becomes a sort of translator for you
any time someone is rude to you, he'll come out of nowhere and tell them everything you said in the exact order you said it
weird, but nice
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
to put it plainly, Jamil has bigger problems
whether or not he can understand you doesn't really matter to him
it's not his job to worry over you
then, you come to him asking for help, and...
...well, he's flattered
he can't deny he likes that you come to him for guidance before anyone else
because of this, (and because he had to learn how to control his own tongue when he was little), he takes pity on you
whether your goal is to work on your speech, or to simply feel less anxiety about it, he's there
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
is it cliche to say that Rook already knows exactly what you're thinking?
perhaps, but it's true
he's mastered the art of observation
he can read your thoughts in your expression, your body language, even the slightest twitch in your lips gives you away
he just knows
you don't have to be a good speaker, or a speaker at all, to communicate with Rook
(and he can do all the talking for you if you'd like, he'd probably enjoy that)
and, of course, he is of the opinion that there is beauty in everything
you don't need to be perfectly clear and concise for him to like you
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
now, I can't guarantee that Lilia won't tease a little
only in good fun, of course
and only if you respond in kind
but he does find it rather cute when you mispronounce something, or mix up your words
he won't correct you or interrupt you, either
he'll step in to help if you're really struggling, of course, but he thinks of you as capable
he does remind you to take breathers when you're getting too anxious about it, though
he cares <3
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#queued#trey clover x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jade leech x reader#jamil viper x reader#rook hunt x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader
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Moments in Time - Quinn Hughes Edition
Word Count - 2300
Summary - The eight times Quinn Hughes showed his love through the ring camera that he didn’t even want in the first place.
Warnings - none pure fluff I know a true shocker if you aren't new here
Author's Note: Hello everyone as always thank you for reading. This is apart of a "Moments in Time" series that I wrote eight moments each of the Hughes brothers. The fics are individual stand alone pieces, they can be read in any order, or you could only read the one brother you want.
Jack Hughes Edition. Luke Hughes Edition.
I have to give credit to my girl Kay @icebound-imagination for not only helping come up with the original idea! But literally stayed up late one night to help me detail plan all three Hughes brothers fics because I didn't want any repeated ideas. Kay also wrote some of the concepts and hers are noted as "Kendra's Version."
Main Masterlist
When you mentioned to Quinn the first time that you wanted to get a ring doorbell he gave you that famous “what the fuck” Quinn Hughes look. But then when you told him about how you really just wanted it in Vancouver because of how much time you spent completely alone in the apartment. To this day, you swear you’ve never heard Quinn agree to anything so fast. Truthfully you just wanted to watch your neighbor’s new puppy growth. But you knew that if there is anyone who hates you having to be completely alone for so long with no family around it’s Quinn. So really it was best of both worlds, Quinn felt more at ease with the ring camera and you got to watch the next door neighbor be ridiculously cute everyday on the way to their walks.
Early Morning Goodbyes
Quinn had to leave early many times throughout the season. Although he always kissed you goodbye on the cheek, because you were still deep in sleep you both knew you wouldn’t remember it. Learning this after the first time he did kiss you goodbye before leaving for a roadie and you didn’t remember it at all. To say you were mad at Quinn for not saying goodbye, you gave him the silent treatment for two whole days, only to discover you were the one in the wrong.
So the next time he had to leave home early due to an early flight for a roadie or hell, even an early morning skate. Of course he still kissed your cheek and whispered his goodbyes. But he started saying bye on the ring because he knew that way you’d see it when you were actually a functionable human being to society and would remember it.
2. Getting a notification
The main reason that Quinn agreed to getting a ring was because of how you said that you would feel safer when he was on long roadies. The first time that you came home from work and he was on a roadie, he was waiting for the notification to come on his phone. As soon as it popped up he clicked on it quickly, ignoring his teammates and the movie they had playing in the background. “Hi baby.” he said softly he didn’t wanna startle you. After a long day all you wanted to do was crawl into bed, “hi Quinny” immediately hearing his voice and feeling better.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be doing some team bonding?” Resting your forehead against your doorbell but looking directly at the camera.
“Oh I am Barbie is playing right now it was Brock’s turn to pick.” A soft laugh leaves both your lips at Quinn’s comment, your laugh continues when you hear Brock in the background telling him to “fuck off.” Quickly Quinn tells you that he’s gotta go but he will text you.
That was the first night you guys had a full blown conversation through your ring camera when he was on a roadie. But it became a little tradition every night when you got home if Quinn was out of town. Even if at the time he was in the middle of a game or an interview, everyday you would ring the doorbell and say “Quinny I’m home.”
3. Drop the attitude
Quinn and you didn’t fight often but when you did it was usually something serious. Today was not one of those cases, it was just one of those days where you were in a bad mood all day and you couldn’t pin point why. But every little thing Quinn was doing was getting on your nerves, to the point of you wanting to scream. From procrastinating on unloading the dishwasher, to being indecisive about what he wanted for breakfast. By the time you were trying to take a nap and he was yelling on Facetime with Jack and Luke you had hit your breaking point.
Storming into the living room and telling Quinn that he needed to leave the apartment because you needed time alone before you went insane. Quinn told his brothers he’d call them back and hung up. He tried to ask you what was wrong but you insisted that you needed him to leave. So he left but not without leaving a message on the ring camera.
“I don’t know where this attitude is coming from, baby. But what do you need for it to go away? Like do we need food? Are you hangry? Do you need cuddles and some quiet time? Cause whatever you need imma give it to you if you drop the attitude. Cause I don’t like when you want to kill me.”
4. Celebrating
Every home game that you went to it wasn’t unusual for you to uber from the apartment to the stadium. But you would always wait until Quinn was ready to leave to go home to the game. Tonight there was a home game and you were planning on going. But this week has been so long at work, you were debating on just watching it on T.V, ultimately you did decide to take an uber to the game. Never have you been so happy to not miss out on a game live. It was an insane game that turned out to be a shutout with no other than baby goalie as starter.
Quinn and you both decided to go to the local bar to celebrate with the team and other wags. After Quinn had 2 beers, and you lost track of the amount of rum and cokes Petey was giving you. Quinn decided it was time to call it a night. Once you got home, your not sure if it was the alcohol you both consumed or just still on a high from the game. But Quinn insisted on practically sprinting down the hallway to your apartment while you cheered about the game. Quinn has never felt so lucky the night when the ring camera was able to catch such an intimate private moment that neither of you would have remembered that morning without the video proof.
5. Playing pranks - Kendra’s Version
You had just settled onto the couch, a warm bowl of popcorn balanced in your lap as your phone screen lit up. You picked it up and checked to see you had a notification from the front door’s security camera. It was Friday night, which meant you weren’t getting any deliveries and your husband, Quinn, was home in the shower.
Curiously you click into the app, seeing what the footage showed. And it wasn’t much. But what you could see was some blonde hair and a toque. You knew exactly who that hair and that hat belonged to. What on earth was he doing?
Your finger hovered over the screen as you decided what to do about your husband’s teammate when the camera showed a flash of a stylish jacket, one that was definitely not the style of the blond hair and toque wearing teammate. Which meant his literal partner in crime was with him. And then it was like someone smashed their finger onto a fast forward button.
You were getting ready to use the two way microphone to ask what was going on when you heard a crashing noise. Your finger hit the button quickly as you yelled out “What on earth are you two blond himbos doing out there? Brock I swear to god if you’re leaving your laundry for me to do again I’m throwing it in the Pacific!”
You were too busy screaming to notice you weren’t the only one who heard the ruckus Dumb and Dumber had made. Quinn must have seen the security notification when he got out of the shower, heard your screaming, and now he was angrily stomping towards the front door and opening it up to figure out what was going on.
Brock, who must have tried to hide from the camera, was leaning against the door. Except the door was ripped open by your angry husband and Brock came tumbling backwards into the foyer. His signature smirk and deep voice trying to play innocent. “Hey Huggy.”
You decided it was time to get off the couch and look for yourself. As you pushed past Quinn and Brock you leaned against the door frame. This was when you noticed the white stuff all over and that Petey was doubled over in laughter.
This left Brock to be the one to fess up their master plan, “Well we figured it would be Quinn that would see the camera not you. He’s ALWAYS checking it in the locker room. After me and the Swede had too many tonight we wanted to have some fun. And what’s more fun than pranking the captain? We wanted him to open the door to pie him. Get glitter stuck in his playoff beard. You weren’t supposed to catch us, Y/N.”
You looked back at Petey, now understanding why he was sparkling under your porch lights.
“Sorry about the plant,” he wheezed.
You could feel Quinn’s glare get darker. Brock however was unaffected by the quiet brooding man. “Petey will pay for it because he makes more money.”
6. “Where the fuck you going in that dress?”
Quinn wasn’t as overprotective over you as people assumed he would be with his girlfriend. He trusted you and he also knew that you knew how to keep yourself safe when you were out with friends for a girls night. But at the same time he didn’t like it when you went out when he was on a roadie. Quinn made the comment about how when he’s a plane ride away it gives him anxiety when you're out with friends drinking. He said that he would feel terrible if something bad happened or even if you needed a ride home and he couldn’t come to you because he was on the other side of the continent. Since you weren’t a big partier anyway, from that night on you did tend to only go out if Quinn was in town. Never wanting to be the reason you brought your boyfriend to the breaking point with his anxiety.
But it was your best friend having her birthday and you couldn’t not go. It had completely slipped your mind about your new ring camera and how Quinn was basically addicted to checking it especially when he was on the road. After coming over to get ready at your place. Finally you were ready to order the uber and as you were locking the door, you heard Quinn’s voice “Where the hell are going in that dress?” You could tell from his voice that he was definitely a little annoyed. It was probably because he knew even from the shitty ring camera quality that this was your go to clubbing dress.
“Hi bubs. It’s Y/B/F birthday tonight.I know your out on a roadie which is why I didn’t tell you.” You said as you bent down so that your face was lined up with the camera. “I am realizing now that wasn’t my smartest idea. I promise I won’t be out long okay? I’ll text you as soon as I get home, Quinny.” Quinn could hear the guilt in your voice and it made his heart break a little.
“It’s okay baby girl. Just be safe okay. I love you. Also your making me miss you even more cause you look really really fucking beautiful in that dress.” As much as you tried to hide your blush you knew that you were failing miserably.
“Thanks Quinn. I love you.” as you stood up and blew a kiss to the camera.
7. Fidgety Hughes
Sometimes Quinn’s fidgeting was out of this world insane even for him. Whether it was that he sometimes let himself get lost in his head and didn’t realize how bad it had gotten. Or if shaking his leg or tapping his fingers on thighs calmed his anxiety. But sometimes his fidgeting was just adorable and this was no difference. Quinn was trying to unlock the door but his hands kept fidgeting probably due to the rough practice or maybe it was just from being tired. But after dropping his keys the fourth time you couldn’t help but chirp him through the camera.
“I hope you can handle a puck better than those keys Hughes.” Quinn couldn’t help but smile at your voice through the camera.
“Oh I can name a lot of things you tell me all the time I handle better than these keys.” playing along with your antics but with a flirty tone. But then of course he dropped his keys on the floor for the fifth time.
“Come on get it together bro.” you chirp.
“Don’t be such a brat, unless you need a reminder of who you beg to help you when you have an itch.”
8. Long Week
Quinn knows that you’ve had a long week and been very stressed because of it. So he stops at the store on his way home and grabs all your favorite snacks that he knows you will want later when you come home from work. He decides to ring the camera to tell you that he got all your favorite snacks and will be ready when you get home for a movie night or whatever you want. Even if it’s The Office which he never even saw a single episode until he met you and you forced him to. He also tells you that he already placed an order to your favorite restaurant for takeout.
#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes#qh43#vancouver canucks fic#vancouver canucks#vancouver canucks fanfiction#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#hughes imagine#quinn hughes x reader#schwritingsqh43
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Aventurine with an innocent darling who's very vulnerable to his schemes and doesn't understand his motives for gifting her a ring, necklaces, expensive perfumes, and dresses that match his preference, finds it hard to believe that he's doing all this for her without a reason.
Doesn't say anything whenever he puts his hand around her waist and drags her along with him anywhere and everywhere he goes, when he leans close she doesn't move back, in a way Aventurine would find her daring and bold, which he would like. A lot.
Seeing as she never declines or rejects him, his advances, his gifts, his messages, their intimacy, and his touch, he considers her his best friend.
Which in time would soften his heart, they would play games that were to her liking (because he would always have her lose to his bets and wagers) but if you look at it from a stranger's point of view, she's playing a dangerous game and she's falling right into his trap, wearing his gifts, following him around, it wouldn't end well.
So of course, someone would eventually warn her and tell her to stay as far away as possible from the IPC executive, which to Aventurine's dismay, works. She's playing distance with him and doesn't laugh or smile as much as she would have before everything she was told messed up her mind, runs home after he keeps insisting that she stay the night and they could have a sleepover, however, they keep drifting apart every time he gets too overbearing.
Everything she does hurts his feelings and drags him further down.
Losing someone who didn't have ulterior motives, who didn't want him to be their friend for his money, influence, his looks, his luck, makes him all the more clingy and desperate.
He wants her back, so the first thing he does is make sure everyone keeps their mouths shut and never thinks about influencing his best friend. Which works, at least for a while.
He's attached to her, he can't consider losing her after everything they've been through, so even if she doesn't realize it, the damage has been done, and she can never look at Aventurine the same. Surely, he will learn about it soon enough.
He could try manipulating her, but what's the use? They've lost their genuine friendship, and it drives him crazy, makes him bitter, and makes him want to do things to whoever dragged his darling away.
He might resort to desperate measures.
So now, he's doing everything he used to do but ten times worse, giving her endless rows of gifts, and spending an unimaginable amount of money on her in hopes they can rekindle their friendship.
But something is still holding her back.
"You should stay the night," he said in his usual light tone, taking a glance to gauge her response. She smiled nervously, and he knew she would decline.
"No, I gotta get home but next time surely," promising him her next time had gotten old, even though she had only stated it twice. He looked away for a moment, trying his best not to squeeze her shoulder.
"You know, you've promised me that twice already and it still hasn't come true."
"I know, I'm sorry. It's just... I don't want to bother you." she looked down.
"I wonder if it is because of those people. You can easily be manipulated, I've already told you that so many times, so why can't you try to form your own opinion?" he didn't say it in a belittling manner, nor was his tone heavy in malice but anyone could tell something was wrong.
Aventurine has never been passive-aggressive, at least not with her.
"That's... Kinda mean." she tried to pull his arm, trying to shrug off his touch but that didn't stop nor discourage him because he just laughed and pulled her back to him.
"I was just kidding! Surely you would have known that by now sweetheart." he also never called her 'sweetheart'.
She looked at him, his wide grin and beautiful eyes peering down at her had always consoled her but now it was telling her to run away.
But with how tight he was holding onto her, she feared it would be impossible to get away now.
#yandere#yandere imagines#yan yan#yandere honkai star rail#aventurine x reader#yandere aventurine#hsr aventurine#aventurine honkai star rail#star rail aventurine#aventurine x you#aventurine x y/n#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail aventurine#hsr imagines#hsr x reader#yandere hsr#hsr x y/n
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How Do I Do Stuff
The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.
I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.
Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.
I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.
I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.
This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.
I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.
This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.
But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.
He's pretty, too.
If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.
Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.
Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.
Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.
However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.
Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.
The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.
Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.
I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.
While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.
So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.
If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.
Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.
Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.
So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.
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I had just gotten the cutest fluffiest tooth rotting sweet idea for a fanfic I've ever gotten.
You know how there is a type of color blindness called red green color blind? It's basically green turns to yellow and red to brown and well fellow and blue stay the same.
So what if reader is red green color blind and her favorite color is blue since it's the only special color she can see and since Theo's eyes are blue when she sees his eyes she gets really excited, wi excited that she just grabs Theo's face so she can get a better look.
I feel like the reader need to have a cherry and bubbly personality because she needs to be very very clueless to just grab someone's face because of how exited she would get.
i've quite literally been obsessed with this ask since you've sent it, and i've gone back and forth on how to write it completely, then went through a little bit of writers block altogether so hopefully i do this justice and close to how you might have envisioned it.
You were really young when it happened, the accident that caused it. Mum was proficient in potions, and you just wanted to be just like her. But a four year old really shouldn't have been messing with her things. It all happened so fast, your little mind just thought you were playing, copying what you've seen her do. Throwing a little of this and a little of that in the cauldron, pouring the pretty blue liquid inside. You had picked it because it was your favorite color, which, looking back seems incredibly ironic.
The explosion was quick but it shook your entire house. Your parents had come rushing in, only to find you sitting up against the far wall, eyebrows gone and lower lip quivering. It has taken about six months before anyone was aware of what it did to you. You were so young and the experience was, well, pretty traumatic so you never really said anything about the changes.
Everyone thought you consistently picked the blue things because it was your favorite color. And while that was slightly true, it was also the only color you were able to see completely. You could occasionally see very dull shades of other colors, extremely muted or like you were seeing them through a layer of grey tissue paper.
Your parents never made too big of a deal out of the situation, instead just teaching you how to by hyper vigilant for specific details you could notice to help you out. Like the difference in how a ruby felt to an emerald, or how gum root smelled versus hickory drip. So overall you had learned to manage. And truly you didn't think you were missing out on much.
In your opinion all of the best things were blue. The ocean on a bright summers day, the sky on a crisp fall morning, the shine on a sapphire, and of course, your Ravenclaw robes. Your 'condition' was spread throughout the school by Christmas holiday your first year. It wasn't something you kept a secret, but it also wasn't something you spread around like you'd won the quidditch world cup.
It didn't bother you that people knew, but it did change how some people saw you. When you were younger, they tried to tease you, tried to call you a freak, tell you that you wouldn't amount to much as "you'd never be successful with such a limitation." It's a wonder what a loving family and supportive friends can do to keep one grounded and happy. As despite all those negative words in your early years, you were still so bright and bubbly.
You had gotten used to how you viewed things a long time ago, but that didn't stop you from being marveled at new discoveries. Which is what had you following a very tall and lanky Slytherin boy down the hall. You had noticed it by accident, as he passed you in the hall. You knew who he was, were well aware of his and his little gang's reputation. But you liked to form your own opinions from experience, and you hadn't quite interacted with this particular member yet.
Your friends had called after you, but after seeing the determined pep in your step had just settled for following. When you had finally caught up to him you wrapped your arms around his bicep, spinning him round to face you. "What the-," he was cut off by your hands grabbing hold of either side of his face, delicate thumbs resting on his sharp cheek bones to hold him still.
"Merlin, Theo, your eyes they're...gods they're like water colors." Theo was thoroughly caught off guard. Not only by the pretty girl holding his face but by the words coming from her mouth. "Oh sweet Rowena, they've just shifted, what are you thinking about?" He did his best not to stutter, "Erm, I...," you could feel his cheeks heat beneath your palm and your smile was instant, "I've not heard that description before. Usually they just say like the ocean or the sky or whatever."
Your thumbs rubbed gently on the apples of his cheeks. "Oh, they're much more than that. They're like...when you first dip your brush into the prettiest pallet after a dip in the water, then when you make the first brushstroke, and the color spreads so perfectly, shifting hues of blue. That's them...your eyes."
No sooner had you finished your explanation were his lips on yours. It was unexpected, catching you off guard but not unpleasantly. His mouth slotted against yours seemingly effortlessly, your hands slipping form his cheeks to loop around his neck and his hands found solace on your waist. His eyes are what drew you in but his lips, merlin you could get used to those.
"Oi, Nott. Who're ya-," The interruption caused the two of you to break apart abruptly, you wiping your slightly swollen lips and straightening where Theo was gripping your skirt. "Oh, no fucking way," Enzo Berkshire's voice sounded as smug as the look on his face. Theo simply threw up his middle finger at the boy before turning to you, small grin on his face.
"Erm, sorry for bombarding you like that its just-," You shook your head, cutting him off, "S'okay." Theo's grin grew two times, "Can I see you think weekend? Coming to the Slytherin party?" You nodded, biting your bottom lip to try and contain your growing smile. Theo placed a kiss on your forehead before looking you in your eyes, more so so you could see his one last time. Then with a wink, he turned and ran to catch up with his friend.
#theo nott x reader#theo nott imagine#theo nott fic#theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#theo nott fluff#slytherin boys
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Male reader who’s Ra’s immortal enemies- to lovers- to friends - to annoyances - to married - to divorced - to friends - to I’ve known you for so long that I could stab you and I’d peck you on the cheek and you’d stab me with the same knife and kiss me till I pass out.
Kinda like Gomez and Morticia but Male reader is called grandma as a joke but after 3 centuries it kinda just stuck so he checks up on the league every 2 decades only to find Ra’s in a fight with the bats and just kinda gets a chair and watches before Dusan or Talia comes and says “MOTHER-!?” “Oh hey I brought snacks”
Oh my God, this sounds great. Lets do it. I may also added Damian calling the reader grandma. I just wanted to.
Summary: (Y/N) and Ra's know each other for a long time.
Warnings: both are a power couple, I swear, mentions of killing, stabbing each other, loving one another, a whole lot of relationships with this.
(Y/N) and Ra's al Ghul go a very long way back. Extremely long. About 400 years to be more specific. The two started off as enemies. And since the two were essentially immortal with the Lazarus pit. The two have killed each other more times they could count. It was stress relief almost for them both.
And they enjoyed the games they have played. Hunting each other down, trying to kill the other, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Not to mention, the bragging rights from (Y/N)'s side. It's no easy feat to kill Ra's al Ghul. And Ra's would strike back. It's a good way to get some stress out, just like said before.
But over time, something else grew and the two became lovers, loving each other fiercely. It was a love story for the ages, as the two would joke. In modern terms, they would be a true power couple. Both of them strong in their own right and if they are separated, they can both hold on their own. And if together?
True meaning of terror and fear in their world.
And they were a power couple for a long time.
But sooner than later, love started to fizzle out. And while they were married, they became friends. It was nice to have a friend in Ra's, despite being a killer and everything in between. Ra's is a loyal friend, the one who wouldn't betray you for anything. That's what (Y/N) knew at least. Of course, that same courtesy came from (Y/N).
Safe to say, the two were loyal to each other to the bone.
And even when they entered that stage of being purely and utterly annoyed with each other, they were still loyal to the bone to each other. It was rare to find a person like that, whom you could annoy to the point of stabbing each other. Which has happen before.
(Y/N) on his knees, Ra's holding a knife implanted in (Y/N)'s stomach, both of them smiling at each other. Even kissing each other while the knife was in one of them. Talk about twisted love. (Y/N) and Ra's have been through a lot and one of the things he remembers vividly is Talia's birth. And it was one of his favorite memories. He may or may have not cried when he held Talia for the first time. It is something that has officially ingrained into his brain.
He got called mother as a result. He didn't like it at first, however, it grew on him. Soon enough, it became an inside joke and he couldn't really be mad at it. It was something... It felt like home, (Y/N) would say.
Soon enough, (Y/N) started travelling, using Ra's' money to do so? Why? Ra's has enough of it already and travelling in the best hotels in the world wouldn't make a dent in his pocket. Never has and it never will. Ra's simply handed him the credit card with a smile and a kiss.
" Go wherever your heart desires beloved. "
And he did.
He travelled a lot, seeing the world, doing what his heart desired. Of course, he stayed in contact with Ra's and Talia during his travels. He would share updates about what he saw and learned. However, he came back once he heard that his daughter was pregnant. He was essentially going to be a grandfather.
Well, he would be a grandmother as the joke from years ago would come back to bite him in the ass. And it bit him hard. While Talia's pregnancy progressed, she would often talk to the baby, talking about how he will met grandmother (Y/N). And how did (Y/N) react?
He simply scoffed, saying it's too early in the day to deal with this. It would make Talia chuckle and Ra's would smirk, enjoying the sight of his husband getting teased.
Yes, husband.
They decided to remarry because the feelings have returned to romantical ones, they were no longer platonic. They would be back to spending time together, sitting on the balcony, sipping their wines and holding hands as they were watching the sunset. It felt just like old times.
And yes, he was present when Damian was born. He may or may have not cried in private. What can he say, he just felt like he had a family. Ra's was happy too, with an heir worthy of taking over the League. Of course, the father being Bruce Wayne, Damian is more than worthy of being the Leader once Ra's no longer there.
Once Damian turned 9, (Y/N) went back to travelling the world. He enjoyed it.
It's been years since he came back from the travel. The League was oddly quiet. (Y/N) didn't think much of it and came back to take a break, bringing food and gifts for everyone. He didn't expect to see a fight breaking out, but he has decided to stand by and watch. He was too jet lagged to even think about fighting. So he waited as he ate, completely entranced into the fight. Ra's fought with ferocity against Batman.
Talia was busy with the 4 birds, Damian included. He watched his daughter fighting, impressed by her skills. Ra's has taught her very well. He took a chair and then sat down to watch. Both Ra's and Talia fought with ferociousness, using every tactic they could remember to fight off the Bats as the family was called that to shorten it up.
And (Y/N) found the nickname really funny. He leaned back into the chair, watching in fascination.
" Mother?! " Talia exclaimed, making everyone freeze.
" Grandmother?! " Damian exclaimed, but from excitement. Damian didn't see him for a long time and Talia hadn't expected him to come back yet.
Damian run to him and (Y/N) gave him a hug. He missed his grandson and once he heard that he was in Gotham, he had an urge to visit. But God only knows how Bruce would have reacted. He probably wouldn't have let in anyhow. And despite (Y/N) being an Al Ghul, he has enough respect to not break into the Manor. And he didn't want to make a bad impression on his unofficial son in law.
" Hello Damian. How are you doing? " (Y/N) asked Damian, while everyone else watched.
" I've been doing well. And you grandmother? "
" Is that really still stuck? Call me grandpa. Not grandmother. "
" I prefer grandmother. "
" Of course you do. A Robin suit? Nice. I hope Bruce is treating you well. Otherwise I'll have to turn on my protective mode, " (Y/N) said to Damian, who actually chuckled.
" I'm doing well in Gotham. "
" Good. Good... Also, I might come to visit soon. " The last part was directed at Bruce and (Y/N) wasn't going to take no for an answer. His grandson comes first. Alongside his daughter.
" Now, fighting is over. I'm jet lagged beyond belief so I would kindly ask the birds and the big bat to leave. Fight in a few weeks, I don't care. Right now, some peace and quiet sounds good, " (Y/N) has declared, making Ra's smirk.
" Of course beloved. Anything for you. " Ra's said and (Y/N) nodded, happy to have his way after the stupid jet lag.
" Good. Also, nice to meet you the rest of the birds, but I have no time to chat. " (Y/N) took his things into his hands and then left to his shared bedchambers with Ra's.
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