#but sam is not in the book. sam is in the show

[queen-of-deans-booty]

A Long Time Coming

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: minor angst, implied smut

Summary: You and Sam have always been just friends, but Dean can see you two have been wanting more for quite a while. It’s only a matter of who breaks first. When you get asked out on a date, Dean makes sure Sam goes so he can keep an eye on you, and he hopes this is what it takes for Sam to confess how he’s been feeling.

Square Filled: “I think you look great, (name). As far as I'm concerned, that's America's ass.” (2022) for @spnquotebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated! <3

x

What Sam and Dean Winchester do is admirable. They help those in need from monsters that invade our world. Not everyone knows what’s going on, but they don’t care about gratuity. All they want to see is a world rid of monsters. You’re not a hunter, you’re far from it. In fact, you work at the local flower shop as a florist. That’s your passion. Plants.

It’s why the Bunker has become a sanctuary for nature. You bring home your work and even have a garden growing outside. The place is surrounded by dead grass and trees, so you built a box big enough to have not only a flower garden but a food garden. Sam doesn’t mind since it’s getting him to eat healthier, but Dean hates it.

Still, he doesn’t say anything when he sees a new plant added to the family.

Dean knows more than he lets on. He’s learned that to be the smartest in the room, shut up about most things. One of the things he’s noticed from your time living at the Bunker is how crazy his brother is about you. He sees it in the way Sam looks at you when you’re not paying attention. He sees the way you look at Sam with such admiration and love in your eyes. Sam doesn’t see it because he's a fucking idiot, and you don’t see it because you don’t think Sam would ever love you the way you love him.

So, Dean is stuck in the middle while you beat around the bush every fucking second of every fucking day.

Dean walks into the library and sees you and Sam sitting down surrounded by books. He fights the smirk that threatens to show up because he knows how much you hate reading. Anything. You think it’s boring, yet here you are doing it with Sam. Anything for him, right?

“What are you two doing?” he asks.

“Researching,” Sam answers.

“And you just volunteered your time?” Dean asks you.

“What? I love reading.” Even saying it makes you want to throw up, but you swallow the urge down. “Sam needs help, and I had nothing to do.”

“Mmhmm. What are you reading?”

“Just a book on the lore of archangels. When we rescued all those refugees from the Other World, we raided their libraries. It’s interesting to see how they differ from the archangels of our world.”

As Sam speaks, you’re looking up at him with a dreamy look in your eyes. Sam doesn’t notice with the way his nose is buried in the book, but that’s okay. Dean sees it, and he wants to throw up.

“Well, have fun, you wild kids.” Dean is about to leave when he sees something on the back of his brother’s hand. “What the hell is that?”

There are different color lines on the back of Sam’s hand, ranging from dark to light, glitter to normal.

“Nothing,” Sam mutters.

“I agreed to help Sam read if he agreed to come to Sephora with me. I need new makeup, and he offered to be my swatch sampler,” you reveal.

“Wait, let me get this straight.” Dean can’t wipe the smile off his face. “You willingly went to Sephora and let Y/N put a bunch of makeup samples on your skin? Do you feel like a pretty princess?”

“Get the fuck out.”

Sam is about to throw a book at Dean’s head, but the older Winchester ducks out at the last second.

“Don’t listen to him, Sam. I appreciate you coming with me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sam feels a sense of pride knowing he was able to do this for you. Sure, you could have done it on your own, but the fact is that you asked him to do it for you. Like Dean thinks, you have the hots for Sam just like he has the hots for you, but neither of you will remove the film from your eyes to see it.

Your phone rings on the table, and you look at the message from the guy you’ve been talking to on Tinder. Sam knows what the Tinder ringtone is, and he tries not to stiffen up at the sound of it. Never did you think you would ever use Tinder, but you can’t be held up on Sam forever. If he never gives you any clue that he’s into you, you don’t want to wait around for a maybe.

You either need to get the courage to tell him how you feel or move on. You choose the easier option, thus, Tinder.

“Another date?” Sam asks quietly.

“Yeah. Tonight. He wants to take me out for drinks.”

“Oh, okay. Have fun, then.”

You look at Sam but he refuses to look at you. Yeah, there’s no way Sam likes you. He can barely look at you.

“Thanks. I should go get ready.”

Sam’s shoulders sag once you’re gone, and he slams the book closed. He can’t focus on reading now. All he can focus on is the fact that you’re going out with some stranger, and that stranger might have his hands all over you. He knows all about Tinder and what it actually means.

If you bring that man back here to have sex, he’s going to fucking lose it.

You just finished putting on your dress when Dean knocks on your door. Once you give the verbal okay for him to come in, he does. He doesn’t walk in, just leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you really going to go out on a date?”

“Why not? I’m a single young woman. What’s the big deal?”

“Sam is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

“What do you want me to say, Dean? That I’m okay with staying inside and reading with Sam every day? No. If I want to go on Tinder and hook up with a guy, then I’m going to. It’s not my fault Sam isn’t man enough to do anything about it. That's saying he wants to do something about it.”

“He does.”

“Sure.” You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m not waiting around for something that may or may not happen. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish getting ready.”

Dean isn’t going to make any progress with you, so he leaves in search of his brother. Sam is still at the library table, staring at nothing.

“Are you really going to let her go on a date?”

Sam snaps out of his trance and shrugs. “She’s a grown woman. She can do whatever she wants.”

“Oh, okay. Sure. She’s going to meet up with this man, have drinks with him, get drunk with him, and allow him to kiss her.”

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam grits out.

“I can just picture it now. He slides his hands over her thighs and underneath her dress. She's drunk, so she can’t really give consent, but he kisses her anyway with his fingers so close to her pu—”

“God damn it, Dean.”

Sam gets up and storms to his room, and Dean snickers. It’s so easy to rile his younger brother up. Maybe this time, you two will get over this unspoken thing and fuck each other.

Once you’re ready, you say goodbye to the brothers and head out. Dean is letting you use his Impala this one time because he doesn’t want you to take a cab or walk. You get to the bar where Joshua is waiting for you. He seems nice enough, so maybe this might not be so bad.

“Joshua?” He looks at you. “It’s Y/N.”

“Wow, you look even more beautiful than your pictures.”

“Oh, thank you,” you blush.

“I already ordered you a drink. I hope you like it.”

You never take a drink that you didn’t see get made, but you don’t want to be rude, either. You take the drink but don’t sip from it. Joshua doesn’t seem to notice and takes out his phone to look at something. You take this moment to get the bartender’s attention.

“Hi, my date ordered this drink for me, but I didn’t see it get made. Do you think I can have another one?”

“Sure thing,” she smiles.

Smart girl, Sam thinks. He’s sitting across the bar, just watching to make sure you’re okay. He’s not going to let anything happen to you even if you don’t know he’s here.

“So, what is it that you do?” Joshua asks once he’s off his phone.

“Oh, I’m a florist. I love everything plants. I actually have—”

“Yeah, I work in sales.” You stop talking the second he opens his mouth. You can’t really be surprised. This is a Tinder date. It’s not like he’s looking for a meaningful relationship. “I’m very good at my job. I can talk someone who hates our product into buying a subscription for an entire year.”

“Wow.” You take your glass from the bartender. “Good for you.”

“Right?”

Joshua rambles on about how great he is, and you’re starting to regret coming out. What can you expect from Tinder? You’re just glad that he isn’t looking for sex right away. You would have left if he did.

“Hey, do you want to head to a different bar? It’s kind of crowded for my taste.”

“Uh, sure. Why not?”

You finish your drink and follow Joshua out of the bar. Yes, you drove here, but you’re okay with leaving the car here if you’re not going to go far. There are a lot of bars around the area, but Joshua walks past most of them. The one he stops at is nearly three blocks from the one you were just at. You have on a nice sundress that falls just above your knees, and cute heels. If you knew this evening would turn into a bar crawl, you would have worn different shoes.

You and Joshua don’t stay at the second bar for long. After a few drinks and more talking from him, he escorts you to another bar. Sam has been following the whole time, and he can see that you’re not into this as much as you thought you were going to be.

By the fourth bar, your feet are killing you. You’re not used to wearing heels all the time. You work in a flower shop. You don’t need to always be so dressed up. Joshua orders two drinks even though you haven’t finished your first one. You haven’t been drinking a whole lot, but you’re a lightweight. You’re already buzzed, and you’ll slide right into drunk if you continue drinking.

“Hey, Joshua, do you mind if we stay here for the rest of the night?”

“Why would we do that?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be a big deal, but I’m wearing heels. We’ve been standing and walking everywhere, and my feet are starting to hurt. I’m cool to chill here if you are.”

Joshua looks at your shoes and scoffs. “It’s not my fault you decided to wear heels on a date.”

Is he serious right now?

“It’s not my fault you decided this date was a bar crawl. I’m out of here.”

You leave Joshua hanging at the bar and make your way through the crowded bar. You know he’s here. You’ve felt him at every bar you’ve been to, and all you want is for him to take you home. You’re too drunk to drive, but you do remember where you’ve put the Impala. Dean would kill you if you left his baby in the city.

“Sam!” you call out when you see him. He lifts his head when he hears his name, and he actually blushes a bit at being caught. “Take me home, yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be when I get home. You know where the Impala is, right?”

“Yeah. Keys?”

You hand him the keys, and you two leave the bar together. The night is starting to dwindle down, and you walk next to Sam.

“Sorry you had to come out to babysit me.”

“No, it’s not babysitting. I was just making sure you were okay. He didn't hurt you, did he?”

“No, he didn’t. Other than a bruised ego, I’m fine.”

You and Sam continue on in silence. The only noise is the clacking of your heels on the concrete. Sam is much taller than you, therefore, he takes bigger steps. He doesn’t realize you’ve been falling behind until he notices you’re not next to him. He pauses and sees you several paces behind him. He knows you normally don’t wear heels, so he can only assume that they are hurting you.

Sam shrugs off his jacket and walks over to you. He wraps it around your waist and secures it by tying the sleeves together, and you look up at him in confusion.

“What are you—Sam!!”

You’re caught off guard when Sam grabs your waist and slings you over his shoulder. He keeps one arm wrapped around your thighs and the other hand on the back of your ankles to keep you in place. You put your hands on his back to steady yourself, otherwise you might throw up.

“Sam! Put me down! I can walk. Yes, my feet hurt, but you don’t have to carry me.” Drinking all night and the sudden rush of blood to your head is enough to make you feel drunk. “Whoa.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you giggle. You slap his ass and gasp when you receive the same treatment. “Hey!”

“You slap my ass, I’ll slap yours.”

“It’s not my fault you have such a great ass. Have you seen you in jeans? God forbid, sweatpants? I’m only human, Sam.”

“I can say the same thing about you.”

“Yeah, right.” Someone whistles, and you see a group of women staring at Sam. It makes you a bit jealous, but can you blame them? “Ooh, I think someone likes you.”

“I have my handful right here,” he chuckles.

“Oh, come on! I can get Dean to pick me up. Go for it, Sam. Get yours.”

“Will you shut up?”

“I think they’re checking out your ass. I think you look great, Sam. As far as I'm concerned, that's America's ass.”

Sam finds the Impala and stops right beside it. He gently lowers you to your feet, allowing your body to practically slide down his. You cling to him as you go down, staring into his eyes the whole time. The air is thick with tension, but the good kind of tension that is usually fixed with a kiss. Ha! The thought of kissing Sam makes you weak in the knees, but does he want to kiss you? The look in his eyes says he does, but maybe that’s irritation for following you all night.

He opens the passenger door for you, and you slide inside. The car ride home is silent because all you can think about is kissing Sam. All Sam can think of is the way your body felt against his. Even in your inebriated state, you can tell Sam is irritated. At what or who, you’re not sure, but you can take a guess.

“So, are we going to talk about it?”

Sam backs you up into the kitchen island and drops to his knees. With a gentle touch, he removes your shoes. “Talk about what?”

“Come on, why are you so pissy?” Sam rolls his eyes and is about to walk away when you grab his thick bicep. “No, no, no. You’re not walking away from me. We’re talking about this. Are you mad at me? I didn’t ask you to pick me up. I was content walking the whole way.”

“Oh, my God,” he mutters under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I’m sorry you had to come out and babysit me the entire night. I bet all you wanted to do was sit inside and read your books.”

“Will you drop it before I get pissed off?”

”No, tell me what’s wrong? If it’s not me or the fact that you had to carry me, then what?”

Sam has been simmering all night, and this is the moment when it spills out.

“God, I am so sick and tired of you going out with boys and not men.”

You can’t help the bubble of laughter that comes out. “What the fuck are you talking about? Who would you prefer me to date? Old white men who can’t get it up?”

“Me.” His confession makes all the laughter die. He pins you to the kitchen island and puts his hands on either side of you so that you can’t escape him. Not that you’d want to. “You have no idea how hard it is to watch you flirt with men when all I want to do is grab you and kiss you like how you’re meant to be kissed. They could never treat you as well as I could.”

“What are you saying?” you whisper.

“Let me show you instead of telling you.”

Sam slides his hands into your hair and grips it so you can’t move anywhere. He leans down and kisses you, and it’s like the dam breaks. The kisses grow more urgent, and there’s not enough skin for either of you to touch. He cups your thighs and lifts you into his arms, and you wrap your limbs around him.

“Fucking finally.” Neither of you breaks apart to address Dean. “Take this shit to your room.”

Sam doesn’t hesitate to carry you to his room, where he plans on ravishing you all night long.

x

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[cryptic-doe]

𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝘁 ❦

wc: 2,035

summary: sam meets the shy girl who lives with bobby for the first time

warnings: mentions of death and small mention of suicide, shitty dads, minor cursing, pls lmk if i missed anything !

a/n: there is no real romance in this first chapter, only because they're around 15 so this kind of just the beginning of their friendship ! i also tried to follow the show's timeline, meaning this is set around 1998, so hopefully, it's somewhat lore accurate. i hope u guys all love it, and like always, pls take care <33

you were just a baby when your mother's post-partum depression took hold of her, claiming her life. and you were only nine when a werewolf claimed your father. you would've liked to say that you missed them. and a small part of you, more so your mother than your father. you had no memories or reminders of her, other than the silver heart locket you wore around your neck with her wedding ring on it. your dad never talked about her, always changing the subject whenever you asked questions about her. so all of your information came from bobby. he said she was a kind and beautiful woman, with the sweetest soul he'd ever met. "you look just like her. she would've adored you." he told you that when you first asked him about her. you wanted to believe him, but it was hard for you to do so when your dad would tell you the opposite your whole life.

whenever he'd drink too much after a long hunt, which was often, he'd spew the most hateful words at you. "it's all your fault, girl. she'd still be here if it wasn't for you. i didn't even want ya anyways." and then he'd throw the glass bottle in your direction. sometimes it only hit the wall, or sometimes the pieces would bounce off and cut you. you'd end up hurt either way. only for him to wake up in the morning, seemingly forgetting what he'd done the night before, and act like you were still his little girl.so no, you didn't miss your father as much as you did your mother. but when it was late at night, and the only presence was bobby's sleeping body down the hall, you missed the idea of him. you missed the man who would cry over the cuts he'd given you, and whose salty tears would flow into the bloody wounds.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ʚଓ་༘࿐

you laid on the cold, wooden floor of your bedroom. the vinyl of radiohead's ok computer played softly in the background as you flipped through some old teen titans comics bobby bought for you. you could hear the front door of the house open and close before hearing the faint creaks of the rickety stairs. you didn't pay too much mind to it, though. figuring it was either rufus or that old lady down the street coming to watch you. but the three hard raps sounding on your bedroom door told you that it was actually bobby. you furrowed your eyebrows, looking up from the comic book. "i thought i heard the front door close?" you asked."yeah, it did. but there's some people i want you to meet," he replied. as if sensing your hesitation, he reassures you with a smile. "only for a few minutes, honey. these are some good people." you glance back down at your unfinished comic book, trying to think of some excuse you could make, but when you look up and see the almost hopeful look in bobby's eyes, you know there's no way of winning. you sigh, closing it, and then standing up. "fine, but only for a few a few minutes." he smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and you practically melt into his side. "that's all i ask of you."

as you and bobby walk down the steps, you take notice of the three men standing in the living room. there's two boys, one who looks a few years older than you, and the other looks to be about your age. a man stands behind them, and you assume that he's their father. once making it to the bottom of the stairs, you move yourself to slightly stand behind bobby, as if to hide away. you never took well to meeting new people. especially when they were ones your age. "y/n, this is my good friend john, and his two boys. the oldest is dean, and that's sam. he's your age."

dean looks down at you, and politely smiles, but doesn't say anything. he's handsome, you think to yourself, and has green apple eyes. then john looks at you and smiles, but his isn't as warm or friendly as dean's. "it's nice to meet you, y/n. i knew your dad, he'd talk about you all the time. and i'm... i'm sorry for your loss." it had been nearly six years since he died. you don't react other than a slight widening of your eyes when he says your dad mentioned you. and that leaves sam. the boy your age.

when he looks at you, it's with the softest eyes. you thought dean had beautiful eyes, but sam's beat his by a mile. they were a hazel color, wide and round. they reminded you of the doe that stumbled into the backyard last week. and when he smiles... it erupts something like butterflies to fly around in your belly. you didn't know these feelings really existed. they seemed like something that only happened in the books you read. "hi, y/n," he greets softly, looking at you. his direct gaze doesn't make you nervous like most others do. instead, you shift from bobby's back to stand at his side. "hi," you greet back.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ʚଓ་༘࿐

it's later now, probably an hour or two after you met the winchesters. what a funny coincidence that they were a family of hunters named after the gun. after you finished meeting them, bobby and john excused themselves to talk about some vampire nest nearby. when dean tried to follow after them, john snapped at him, and it made your spine go rigid. you didn't like their father. he reminded you too much of your dad, maybe that's why they got along so well. dean and sam left to go to a nearby arcade, when dean offered to take you along, you just politely declined with a shake of your head.it was dark now, the sun had already set and the moon was rising. you sat on the front porch of the house, rocking back and forth in the white rocking chair bobby built for you. he was still inside talking to john, leaving you to stew in your thoughts, something you did often. you thought about a lot of things. like the black cat that passed through the yard last night, or that movie bobby showed you the night before. it was called mars attacks, or something. you liked it a lot, and laughed at the aliens whenever they would talk to each other. but then your thoughts drifted to sam. you didn't have much experience with kids your age, especially not boys.

having a dad as a hunter didn't really allow you the opportunity to go to a regular school. most of the time you would have to learn on your own. and when that got too hard, you'd walk over to the local library of whatever motel you were staying in and ask someone for help. you were thankful you moved in with bobby when you did, because school only got harder from there. he tried to enroll you into the local middle school, but you didn't want to one bit, and he wasn't gonna force you. and when your freshman year of high school rolled around, he knew that it would be the same outcome. so you never really made friends, not like you wanted to. most of the kids in town were assholes, whispering amongst themselves whenever you and bobby would roll into town to get some groceries. ghost girl, is what they called you. mainly because nobody knew anything about you, other than the fact you weren't here one day and then were the next. but partly because you had this weird aura around. off-putting and not very approachable. you rarely spoke unless it was someone you knew, and you would just stare at those who even tried. you didn't mean to, though, you just couldn't help it. when you were ten, you asked bobby if you were scary. if that's why none of the kids ever wanted to talk or play with you.

he sighed and patted your head. "you're not scary, honey, you're just... different. but there's nothing wrong with that. it's a small town, meaning small minded."

however, you quickly realized that you didn't care what they thought about you, or the whispered words shared between them. there was a part of you that hoped sam didn't think you were scary, though. the sound of tires on gravel brought you out of your thoughts. the black, chevy impala of rolled up to the front of the house, and dean and sam later hopped out of the car. dean made his way up the porch steps first, smiling at you as he carried in some pizza boxes. "hey, y/n, we got pizza if you want it." you muttered a quiet 'thanks' as he just nodded in response, before the screen door slammed shut behind him. when you made eye contact with sam, you immediately dropped your gaze. instead, looking at the worn-out black converse you wore.

out of the corner of your eye, you could see him standing there, shifting from side to side. he fiddled with something behind his back, and your curiosity got the best of you. "what do you have?" you suddenly asked, looking up slightly. he looked at you with his lopsided smile, and you noticed the dimples he had. "uh, just a prize i won. you should've come with us, it was pretty cool."

you just shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest. "i've never been to an arcade. i don't think i'd be very good at it," you murmured, tilting your head to look up at him. for only being fifteen, he was pretty tall. almost as tall as dean, who was four years his senior. "you don't have to be good at them to have fun," he replied, moving to lean against the porch rails. "between you and me, dean's not very good at them, either." his voice dropped to a low whisper, and you found yourself letting out a small laugh at his words. and to sam? that was better than any prize he could've won.

the screen door squeaked, as bobby peaked his head out. "alright, you two kids, pizza's on the table. let's eat." you and sam both nodded as he left to go sit down. you stood up from the chair, and brushed off the dirt from the jean shorts you wore. as you moved to open the door, sam's fingers brushed against your arm, sending shivers down your spine. "the prize i won, uh, it's for you." he held out a small plushie of a light purple butterfly, your favorite color. you gratefully took it from him, smiling the biggest smile he's seen from you all day. "thank you, sam." he ducked his head, kicking nonexistent rocks. "it's no problem."

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ʚଓ་༘࿐

for the rest of the week, sam and dean kept you company while john and bobby hunted the vampires. dean drove you guys to the arcade, and you were surprisingly good at some of the games. that same day you got ice cream and you laughed when sam got got sprinkles stuck around his lips. and when dean would leave you and sam alone, you showed him your comics and all of your favorite vinyls. "this is the teen titans. these ones are my favorites. i like raven, she's cool." his eyes stayed focused onto you as he nodded along to every word you said. he didn't talk, he listened, as if some part of him knew that's what you needed. and when the week came to an end, and you all said your goodbyes, he took you to the corner of the living room, pressing a small piece of paper with a number. "whenever you just need someone to listen to you," was all he said, before brushing his lips against your cheek as dean called for him. he waved goodbye and you did the same, watching as the imapala drove away.

and as you drifted to sleep that night, you clutched the butterfly plushie close to your chest, and dreamed about the boy with the hazel eyes. with his number placed right underneath your pillow.

a/n: this was intended to be a short drabble, but nothing is ever short with me 😭 i feel like it's a kind of a mess, as i was trying to introduce a lot of things, but i hope u guys still like it and lmk if you'd like to me tagged !! i plan for the next one to have a bit of timeskip, and for them to be around 16-17, so we can get into more of the romance ! we'll see how many chapters i plan to write for this series, bc i lowk already love sm <33

taglist: @sacr1ficialang3l @mostlymarvelgirl

[faghubby]

Swimming lessons

I had never learned to swim, it wasn't really my fault. As a kid we didn't have much money, and we didn't live near and big lakes or river so I never had a chance. There was a small pond we used to jump in as kids but it wasn't deep it was just more refreshing on those hot summer days. But now I was 35 and my wife Jan had booked a trip to a carribean island. She kept going on about snorkeling and taking a boat out. So I decided to sign up for swimming lessons at the local YMCA before the trip.

It turned out I was the only one who signed up. They where going to just cancel the class but I convinced the lifeguard Sam who was to teach it to just teach me privately. He agreed

The first day he showed up in his little bikini suit. And taught me some simple strokes. At one point he had me float in the water on my back. His hand slid under my ass. I swear he gropped me as he seemed to be holding me up. He had me flip over and he held me the same way. His hand closed softly around my balls.

"What?" I scrambled but was over my head. So I grabbed hold of him. He held me in the middle of the pool and kissed me.

"Sam, I think" I started not sure what to do. When I felt the edge of the pool behind me.

"Put your feet down" he smiled. Then he kissed me again. His tounge exploring my mouth.

"Sam, I'm not gay" I told him softly but still clung to him. His body was. I ran my hand over his rock hard abs. His hands untied my suit and slid inside. He stroked me.

"No one will bother us, closed for private session" he told me. It felt so good I rested my head on his shoulder as he stroked me slowly.

I came hard holding on tight to him to keep from falling down.

"Now that you are relaxed let's try those strokes again" Sam told me. He tossed my bathing suit on the side of the pool. He corrected me as I swam around. We'll tried not to drown naked. He sat on the edge of the pool at one point his feet in the water.

"Now swim to me" he told me. I swam across the pool right up to him. I jumped up. " I did it" I said with pride. As I realized I was in-between his legs.

"I'm not gay" I reminded him. Staring at the bulge in his little red speedo.

"I know" he smiled. I nodded but continued to stare at his crotch.

"Swim back" he told me pointing across the pool. I did as he said thinking about his cock as I did. He merely me at the other side holding a towel. As I got out I realized how naked I was. In the water it just felt. He dried me off. It felt odd I couldn't remember anyone ever drying me off. Before we entered the locker room he grabbed me and kissed me again. I melted into his arms his hands grabbed both sides of my ass as he did.

"I can't meet you tomarrow but we have the pool again on Wednesday" Sam told me. We then both walked into the locker room it was busy lots of guys had been using the weight room. Sam vanished I didn't know where as I showered and left for the night.

At first I thought I wouldn't return for another lesson but something about it all. So forbidden I couldn't keep myself away. I walked into the pool area. To find Sam putting equipment away. I admired his legs and ass. I was checking out some guys ass. I thought to myself.

Sam was all business making me work hard.

"I can't" I told him at one point my arms felt like jelly. Sam swam over to me. He stood close very close to me. I waited, I wanted him to kiss me. He didn't move. Unsure what to do I ran my hand over his speedo.

"Have you ever pleasured a man before?" He asked.

"No, I just " I told him. Sam lifted himself out of the water and sat on the edge of the pool. He grabbed the edges of his suit and yanked them down. His cock flopped out. I went to touch it.

"Use your mouth" she told me softly but stern. I swallowed hard bit leaned over and kissed his cock. He just smiled as I leaned in again this time taking the head of his cock in my mouth. I felt myself hard despite the cold water. I sucked on just the head of his cock. The more excited he became the harder the more I got into it. Soon I had his balls in my hand as I sucked as much of his thick cock as I could. I sensed he was about to cum and pulled back only to have him cum all over my face. I dunked under the water to wash it all off. He had fixed his suit by the time I came up for air. And helped me out of the pool. His hand slid across my ass.

"I know you're not gay" he told me. I just blushed. He was everything I wasn't tall, physical, confident. And I was in awe of him.

"Meet me back here after you get changed" he told me. I went to shower and get dressed I hurried to get back to him. He was dressed in shorts and a tee, had he even showered I thought as he led me out to the parking lot. He walked up to a motorcycle and handed me a helmet. I had never been on a motorcycle before. I gripped him tight terrified as we sped off. He raced thru the streets till he pulled into an alley. He led me up a narrow stairs to a very small apartment. He pushed me against the wall.

"I am going to take you" Sam told me. I was already late to meet Jan. But I couldn't leave even if I wanted to. Sam soon had all my clothes off. I knelt before him.

"No, this one goes in you" he told me he pushed me over hos small dirty table and pushed his fingers in my ass, he had some type of lube. He was not gentile or slow. He took me. He lubed me up with his two fingers then replaced them with his cock. It hurt, burned as he started to fuck me. He smacked my ass. And fucked me harder. He didn't stop until he shoved his cock all the way in and pump his load into me.

"Paul, you are gay" he told me as he pulled out. I stood and realized I had cum all over his table. I went to grab my clothes.

"Going?" Sam asked

"I have to meet Jan, my wife" I told him.

"Are you sure, you could stay here and be my wife" he told me. I got dressed and went to leave. I stopped and kissed him before I left. I caught a cab back to get my car. I made an excuse about a flat to Jan. And I spent the night wondering if Sam was right.

I woke the next morning went to work. I went about my normal day to day. But Sam was constantly on my mind. I skipped my swim lesson. And the next day Sam was waiting for me outside my office on his motorcycle. He handed me a helmet and I got on. He again drove to his appartment. I followed him upstairs. As soon as we where inside I tried to kiss him. He pushed me back against the wall.

"No, you are a dirty little bitch who been hiding from me" he told me he tore my shirt off. I quickly shed my pants and underwear. And what remained of my shirt standing naked before him. He grabbed my balls,

"Beg me to beat you, make you a good slut" he told me. Squeezing my balls.

"Yes, God please" I moaned "I am sorry I been so naughty. Teach me. Punish me" I moaned. In pain but also a strange sense of pleasure. He half dragged me across the room and bent me over the table. His belt off he bought it across my ass. Over and over. Pain and heat radianted from my ass. When he was satisfied I was properly punished he rubbed a salve on my ass. Then used it as lube as he fucked me. When he finished I wiped the tears from my face and went to get dressed.

After that I met him everyday after work. He fucked me or ipused my mouth as he saw fit. I was his bitch and he treated me as such.

It was weeks, it was the day before I was supposed to leave on the trip with Jan. I had told Sam about it. That I would be gone for 10 days. I hadn't had sex with Jan since Sam had first taken me.

What had not known is that Sam and Jan had been talking almost since the beginning. That is until the night before the trip. I found Sam sitting in our living room talking to Jan.

"It's all set then" Sam said shaking her hand. I stood there stunned that they seemed to know each other. Sam stood and kissed me in front of Jan.

"Pack a bag you will be staying with me" Sam told me. Jan just smiled like it was normal. Jan went on vacation without me. And when she returned filed for divorce. Sam wouldn't let me contest handing over almost everything to Jan. While I lives with Sam in his little apartment. He had me quit my job. And stay home as his wife. We where married the day after my divorce was final.

[virginiaisforvampires]

In the context of the show, do you think that Lestat stayed in that shack the whole time since he left Paris? Do you think that he went back to Rue Royal?

Well, if you know the books, there is a period after the events of Merrick in which Lestat takes to wandering in self-imposed exile. He essentially becomes a vagabond and says he finds no pleasure in life anymore. This is during the period in which he is estranged from Louis, which I talked about here.

Sam has alluded to things having happened to Lestat, specifically in New Orleans, between the events in Paris and the modern day. He discusses that here. He also hints at Rolin already bringing in Lestat's vagabond era ^^ from the books, which would fit with Rolin's other adjustments to make sure Louis' arc and Lestat's arc can be together in the show instead of dipping in and out like their arcs do in the books, because Louis is now past the Merrick era of resenting Lestat and has fully accepted himself as a vampire.

Rolin has basically erased the need for Louis to have any future separations from Lestat, and I suspect that's what he's done with Lestat as well with his time away from Louis in New Orleans by Sam hinting at Lestat's vagabond era.

So did he leave the shack? Maybe. But it certainly wasn't to live it up. He was in desolate agony without Louis in both the books and the show.

[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Twenty-Six

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Six: Supernatural Books

Summary: An author is writing books about...Sam and Dean?

            “What are those?” asked (Y/N) as Sam and Dean came out the comic store with a stack of books. They both had frowns. “Are they cursed or something?” There had been a prospective case, but it was strange it was wrapped up so quickly.

            “They’re books,” said Dean. “About us.”

            “Huh?” said (Y/N). That would be super weird. Who would want to read about Sam and Dean’s lives? And, what, did (Y/N) not get to be included in this weirdness?

            “Take a look,” said Sam, tossing one back to them.

            They opened it up and began reading.

l

            “This is freakin’ insane,” said Dean as he tore through another book. They were all accurate to cases Dean and Sam had been on. “How’s this guy know all this stuff?”

            “You got me,” sighed Sam. “(Y/N), what do you think?”

            “I stopped reading because it almost had a sex scene,” said (Y/N). “Dean flirts with a lot of people. From what you and Bobby told me of your cases, it’s true, though.”

            Dean shrugged and grinned. “I’m a good-looking guy.”

            “Ew,” said (Y/N) firmly, and Dean scowled.

            “How come we haven’t heard of them before?” said Dean.

            “They’re pretty obscure,” said Sam, looking at an internet article. “I mean, almost zero circulation. Uh, started in ’05. The publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one—No Rest for the Wicked—ends with you going to Hell.”

            (Y/N) huffed. “So I don’t feature in any of them? I feel left out.”

            “Do you want your inner thoughts on display?” grumbled Dean.

            “It would be cool to be included,” said (Y/N), shrugging. “I bet I’d get more copies sold. I’m cool and new to the game.” Plus, reading some of those helps me understand you two more.

            They didn’t say that out loud. Dean and Sam didn’t talk about their past often other than to fill in (Y/N) on other hunters, how they’d gotten to this point in their Heaven and Hell issues, and to tell them how to kill obscure monsters. This told them more about the Winchester brothers as people.

            Dean laughed at (Y/N)’s bravado and took a look at the computer. “Check it out. There’s actually fans. Not many, but still. Although for fans, they sure do complain a lot. Listen to this. Simpatico says, ‘The demon storyline is trite, cliched, and overall craptastic.’ Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it.”

            “I like this one,” said (Y/N), pointing at another comment. “From MonsterLover42—weird name, but I’m not going to judge—‘Why is there no nuance to the monsters? They’re all the same: evil and animalistic. They have brains, so why can’t the author show the nuance of people being different but not bad?’ ” They shrugged. “If this was just a book, I’d get it, but, I mean, monsters are monsters in real life.”

            “Ruby—”

            “Still a demon,” said Dean and (Y/N) at the same time, and Sam rolled his eyes with a long-suffering sigh.

            (Y/N)’s gaze flicked to Sam, and he looked back at them. They knew he’d been drinking Ruby’s blood again to defeat Alastair. They hadn’t said anything to Dean yet, though, hoping above all hope that he’d done it to go against Alastair and protect Dean and wouldn’t do it again. Sam loved Dean. (Y/N)’s stomach curled uncomfortably, and they swallowed, looking away. There wasn’t time for that. If another fight erupted at this point—so few seals left—it could hurt things. And Sam and Dean were family. (Y/N) wasn’t. They didn’t have a right to say or do anything that involved the family.

            “We got to find Carver Edlund,” said Dean, shutting the computer suddenly as he read a thirsty comment.

            “Yeah, that might not be so easy,” said Sam, grimacing.

            “Why not?” said (Y/N).

            “No tax records, no known address,” said Sam. “Looks like ‘Carver Edlund’ is a penname.”

            “Somebody’s got to know who he is,” said Dean.

            “Publisher?” suggested (Y/N).

            Sam nodded. “And she has an address.”

l

            “So you published the Supernatural books?” said Sam, fighting an uncomfortable grimace as he looked at the giant posters of all the book covers plastering the walls. With the exaggerated long hair and shirtless models, he was suddenly hating the way he presented himself. (Dean was smugger about how muscular he looked).

            “Yep. Yeah. Gosh. These books…” The woman smiled fondly. “You know, they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap. You know—Dr. Sexy, M.D?” She scoffed. “Please.”

            “Right,” said Dean.

            “Well, we’re hoping our article can highlight an underappreciated series,” said (Y/N). “I mean, I’m young, and I love it.” They beamed to show sincerity. If they were too young to be an FBI agent, then they were young enough to get people to let down their guard. An innocent teenager couldn’t be lying.

            “Yeah, yeah, because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press, then maybe we could start publishing again,” said the publisher, smiling.

            (Y/N) doubted the brothers wanted that.

            “No, no, no, no. God no,” said Dean without thinking. “I mean, why would you want to do that? You know, it’s, uh, such a complete series, what with Dean going to Hell and all.” He smiled awkwardly.

            “Personally, I think it could be cool to continue. Introduce more character, make a wider world, all that,” said (Y/N) brightly. “I mean, there’s so much potential. If there’s Hell, what about Heaven?” Dean glared at (Y/N), who smiled “innocently.” Hey, they wanted to be part of the series. They were working their ass off, too.

            “I understand,” said the publisher, smiling. “Honestly, I want them to come back, too. So…no article is going to make fun of my boys, got it?”

            “No! No, never,” said Sam quickly.

            “No, that’s…” Dean shook his head.

            “We—We are actually, um, big fans,” Sam forced out the words.

            “You’ve read the books?” challenged the publisher.

            “Cover to cover,” said Dean.

            “Mhm,” said Sam.

            “I’m still getting through them,” said (Y/N).

            “What’s the year and model of the car?” said the publisher.

            “1967 Chevy Impala,” said Dean smugly.

            “What’s May 2nd?”

            “That’s my—uh, Sam’s—birthday,” said Sam.

            “January 24th is Dean’s,” said Dean.

            “Sam’s score on the LSAT?” said the publisher.

            Sam grimaced. He didn’t remember precisely. “One…seventy-four?”

            “Dean’s favorite song.”

            “It’s a tie,” said Dean confidently. “Between Zep’s ‘Ramble On’ and ‘Traveling Riverside Blues.’ ”

            The publisher smiled. “Okay, okay. What do you want to know?”

            “What’s Carver Edlund’s real name? We’d love to talk to him,” said (Y/N).

            “Oh, no. No. Sorry. I can’t,” said the publisher, shaking her head.

            “We just want to get the Supernatural story in his own words,” said Sam sincerely.

            “He’s very private,” said the publisher firmly. “Like Salinger.”

            “Please,” said Sam. “Like I said, we are, um—” he chuckled awkwardly and unbuttoned his shirt. “—big fans.” He showed his anti-possession tattoo.

            Dean groaned but pulled his shirt to show it. (Y/N) tugged down their collar and displayed their own tattoo.

            The publisher beamed. “You know what?” She stood, pulled up her skirt, and showed the tattoo on her thigh.

            Dean grinned. “You are a big fun.”

            The publisher smiled and picked up a notepad. “Okay, his name’s Chuck Shurley. And he’s a genius, so don’t piss him off.”

l

            Sam, Dean, and (Y/N) headed towards the ramshackle with trepidation. Who knew what type of person Chuck was? He could be crazy or evil or just weird. They never met normal people in this line of work, and someone know their entire lives qualified as weird already.

            Dean paused at the door behind ringing the bell. This was it. A moment later, the door opened, and a short man in a bathrobe and a scruffy beard stared at them.

            “You Chuck Shurley?” said Dean.

            “The Chuck Shurley who wrote the Supernatural books?” said Sam.

            “Maybe. Why?” said Chuck suspiciously.

            “I’m Dean. This is Sam,” said Dean. “The Dean and Sam you’ve been writing about.”

            Chuck’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head as he scoffed and closed the door. Dean gritted his teeth and rang the doorbell again. Chuck sighed and opened the door again.

            “Look, uh…I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do,” said Chuck, lying through his teeth. “It’s, uh, it’s always nice to hear from the fans. But, uh, for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life.”

            He tried to close the door, but (Y/N) stepped forward. “Chuck, I’m (Y/N), can we just talk—”

            “What did you say?” Chuck suddenly looked pale.

            “I’m (Y/N)?” they repeated confused.

            “What’s your last name?” demanded Chuck.

            “(L/N)?” This was very confusing.

            “Oh, God,” said Chuck, staring at them. He looked at Dean and Sam. “What…What are your last names?”

            “Winchester,” said Dean.

            Chuck somehow became paler. “I never put last names in the books…I never even wrote that down. And you—” he looked intensely at (Y/N) “—you’re not in any of the books until now!”

            “You’re writing one?!” said Dean.

            “Ha, I do exist in this universe,” said (Y/N) at the same time.

            “I need a drink…” Everything had become, literally, too real for Chuck.

l

            Chuck downed his whole cup in a second. Exhaling sharply, he groaned when the three people he’d thought were figments of his imagination were still present. “You’re not a hallucination.”

            “Nope,” said Dean.

            “Well, there’s only one explanation,” said Chuck. “Obviously, I’m a god.”

            (Y/N) snorted unceremoniously at that.

            “You’re not a god,” said Sam.

            “How else do you explain it?” said Chuck. “I write things, and they come to life. Yeah, no, I’m definitely a god. A cruel, cruel, capricious god. The things I put you through—the physical beatings alone.” He shook his head.

            “Yeah, we’re still in one piece,” said Dean.

            “I existed before you started writing, so I’m gonna say I’m not your creation,” said (Y/N) cheerfully.

            “I killed your parents! All of them!” said Chuck hysterically.

            “You didn’t create us,” groaned Sam as Chuck continued. No one needed to relive all the tragedies of their life.

            “Did you really have to live through the bugs?” said Chuck, horrified.

            “Yeah,” said Sam, and Dean grimaced.

            “What about the ghost ship?” said Chuck.

            “Yeah, that too,” said Dean.

            “I am so sorry,” said Chuck. “I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live bad writing…” He sighed and shook his head. “If I would have known it was real, I would have done another pass.”

            “Chuck, you’re not a god!” snapped Dean.

            “We think you’re probably just psychic,” said Sam.

            “Wouldn’t be the first one,” said (Y/N).

            “No,” scoffed Chuck. “If I were psychic, do you think I’d be writing?” He sighed. “Writing is hard.”

            “It seems that somehow you’re just…focused on our lives,” said Sam. “And now (Y/N) because they’re with us.”

            “They came out of nowhere,” sighed Chuck. “No backstory, no nothing, just ‘wait, let me write about a kid’s parents getting murdered and they hunt with Sam and Dean.’ I thought it was a stupid idea. It makes no sense. Who would let someone that young hunt?”

            Sam grimaced, Dean coughed, and (Y/N) shrugged. It did sound ridiculous, but so was their life.

            “So you’re writing right now?” said Dean.

            “Yeah…” Chuck trailed off, swallowed, and lifted a stack of papers. “It’s, uh, it’s kind of weird.”

            “Weird how?” asked Sam.

            “It’s very Vonnegut,” admitted Chuck.

            “Slaughterhouse Five Vonnegut or Cat’s Cradle Vonnegut?” questioned Dean.

            “What?” said (Y/N) and Sam at the same time.

            “What?” said Dean defensively.

            “It’s, uh, Kilgore Trout Vonnegut,” said Chuck. He sighed. “I wrote myself into it. I wrote myself…at my house…confronted by my characters.” He grimaced.

l

            “I’m sitting in a laundromat, reading about myself sitting in a laundromat, reading about myself—my head hurts.” Dean put down the manuscript.

            “There’s got to be something this guy’s not telling us,” said Sam.

            “ ‘Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine,’ ” read Dean aloud. “ ‘He was starting to have doubts about Chuck, about whether he was telling the whole truth.’ ”

            “Stop it/‘Stop it,’ ” said Sam and Dean.

            “ ‘said Sam,’ ” finished Dean.

            “Seems pretty legit so far,” said (Y/N). “And if he’s holding something back, what’s the point? He tried to make money and failed. He seems pretty harmless if you haven’t had trouble because of his abilities so far.”

            “I still don’t trust him,” said Sam, turning his back.

            “I don’t like him either with his god-complex and self-pity combining, but, you know.” (Y/N) shrugged.

            “Hey, guess what we do next?” said Dean, reading ahead. “Sam’s gonna get broody and pensive. (Y/N) gets sassy.” He put down the pages again. “I mean, I don’t know how he’s doing it, but this guy is doing it.”

            (Y/N) picked up the pages. “ ‘Dean is being such a dick, thought Sam,’ ” they read.

            Dean looked affronted, and Sam cracked a grin.

            “The guy’s good,” he admitted.

l

            Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) watched Chuck pace while he clutched his newest batch of pages. Everything about his said “terrified.”

            “So…you wrote another chapter?” prompted Sam when it was clear Chuck was too nervous to speak on his own.

            “This was all so much easier before you were real,” sighed Chuck.

            “We can take it. Just spit it out,” said Dean.

            “You especially are not gonna like this,” said Chuck, grimacing.

            “I didn’t like Hell,” said Dean.

            Chuck sighed. “It’s Lilith. She’s coming for Sam.”

            Everyone’s eyes widened.

            “Coming to kill him?” asked (Y/N) worriedly.

            “When?” said Sam.

            “Tonight,” said Chuck.

            “She’s just gonna show up? Here?” said Dean.

            “Uh…Uh…” Chuck grimaced and began to read. “ ‘Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion.’ ”

            “I’m going to throw up,” said (Y/N) matter-of-factly.

            Sam laughed out loud. “You’re kidding me, right?” he said.

            “You think this is funny?” said Dean incredulously.

            “You don’t?” said Sam. “I mean, come on, ‘fiery demonic passion?’ ”

            “It’s just a first draft,” said Chuck defensively.

            “You had ‘fiery demonic passions’ with Ruby,” said (Y/N) pointedly.

            “Wait, wait, wait, wait, Lilith is a little girl,” said Dean, horrified for a second.

            “No, uh, this time she’s a ‘comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana,’ ” read Chuck.

            Better than the alternative, thought (Y/N), grimacing.

            “Great. Perfect.” Dean gritted his teeth. “So what happens after the…‘fiery demonic’ whatever?”

            “I don’t know. It hasn’t come to me yet,” said Chuck.

            “Dean, (Y/N), look, there’s nothing to worry about,” said Sam emphatically. “Lilith and me? In bed?”

            “How does the psychic thing work?” asked (Y/N).

            “You mean my process?” said Chuck.

            “Call it whatever,” said (Y/N).

            “Well, it usually starts with a headache. A really bad headache,” he said. “Aspirin is useless, so…I drink. Until I fall asleep.”

            A true creative, thought (Y/N) sarcastically.

            “The first time it happened, I thought it was just a crazy dream,” continued Chuck.

            “The first time you dreamt about us?” said Dean.

            “It flowed. It just kept flowing,” said Chuck. “Still does. I can’t really stop it, really.”

            “You can’t seriously believe—”

            “Humor us,” said Dean sharply to Sam. He stood and held out his hands. Chuck sighed and handed over his pages. “Look, why don’t we…why don’t we just take a look at these and sees what’s what. You—”

            “Knew you were gonna ask for them, yeah,” said Chuck, nodding at the papers and sighing.

Taglist:

@snowy-violet

@girgal73

@neenieweenie

@yummycement

@pain-in-the-ashe

@w0mank1sser

@taeswolfie

@yappydoo

@demonic-insomniac

@aew-regression-cove

@grippledee-galaxy

@lemmejustreadman

@coffeecloud135

@star-maker-rain-dancer

@introvertathome

@trashcannotbealive

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

@dmitrytherat

@paastaboi

@kaz-2y5-spn

@mxvoid26

[groovy-lady]

The Info Dump in Captain America: The Winter Soldier was so thoughtless and stupid because no one thought to call in someone with knowledge of technology, y’know like Tony Stark for instance, to help with outing HYDRA that wouldn’t also dump SHIELD’s secrets onto the internet for all to see!!!

And Steve was far more focused on Bucky than anything else in both Captain America: The Winter Soldier & Captain America: Civil War which was also stupid! Also, speaking of Bucky, how do we even know that the HYDRA triggers aren’t in Bucky in the later MCU movies and shows anyway (tbh they probably aren’t) and that Bucky can’t be returned into the Winter Soldier again since the red book with his trigger words in it was never destroyed in MCU canon?!?!?

And also, Steve should have told Tony about Zola’s implications about Howard & Maria Stark’s deaths long before Captain America: Civil War had even happened and y’know shouldn’t have been using Tony’s money and resources to look for his parents’ murderer!!!

Also, Natasha’s snarky speech at the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier is just her being entitled and narcissistic. How does anyone know if she isn’t even HYDRA anyway since she’s a spy??? Also, Natasha is an idiot for still seeing only the bad in Tony (still thinking he’s a narcissist and that he has an ego).

Oh and Tony is not responsible for Ultron being homicidal!! That one was Wanda’s fault and the fault of the sentient Mind Stone in Loki’s scepter! Tony even said that they [him and Banner] hadn’t even been close to an interface, so why is Tony still being blamed for that even in Captain America: Civil War?!

Considering that Wanda and her brother volunteered for HYDRA and is probably still HYDRA anyway, then why was Wanda even allowed onto the Avengers roster at all??? It makes no sense whatsoever since she mind-raped the team and tried to kill them all and (yet again) is probably still HYDRA!!!

Also, how in the hell did Howard and Maria Stark not hear the loud motorbike behind their car?!?! It was also stupid of the Winter Soldier to not shoot out the camera first before murdering the Starks, but I guess the Winter Soldier isn’t such a great assassin after all.

Also also, the fight in Lagos was so stupid since they (Steve, Sam, Wanda, Natasha) didn’t even bother informing the Nigerian government about what was going on so they entered the country illegally!!!

Why the hell does everyone keep blaming Tony for everything the Avengers do?!?! What sense at all does it make for Charlie Spencer’s mom to blame Tony specifically for her son’s death and then insult Tony by saying that it doesn’t matter in the least to him?!?!? How would she know what Tony feels about it?!?!?!

[luxurystark-jackson]

“you made an exception for me”

“you’re different”

damn castiel why don’t you just make out with him already

[cap10wilson]

if u think about it steve & bucky had the potential to be such a beautiful romance. born in the late 1910’s, their love is illegal, they have to hide their feelings and put their physical safety first. a lover is lost, and the remaining one lays down his life, because he can’t continue to live in a world without bucky. but wait! they both survived and are still the same age but now it’s the 2010’s? gay people don’t have to live in secret anymore? gay marriage is legal???? they can work out the whole winter soldier thing and then, tired soldiers that they are, retire to a townhouse in DC near their new veteran friend sam’s place?? nah psych, steve just figured out how to go back in time and so he marries that one girl that he kissed once and thought he could’ve been with if he hadn’t decided that dying was more important. oh, you thought you were gonna get something new and interesting and in character? lmao!

[spacerockband]

like, he didn’t even stop 9/11…

[bloo-the-dragon]

waffl

(this is platonic)

[vectorisheree]

"HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387. MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT FOR YOU. HATE. HATE"

He's so AM coded <333 Four armed Eclipse my beloved

The urge to start posting about all the silly little evil AI that I love is overwhelming argshragsgrasghrgasr

[aroaceleovaldez]

What is the PR disaster in question that made Rick announce TSATS? I wasn’t active in the online fandom at that point

Of course! This was awhile ago so it figures people don't remember it/aren't familiar:

Basically a couple years back (2020) the fandom had some posts circulate discussing the ways different characters in the Riordanverse were written poorly or offensively. There was a masterpost that went around tumblr but the two major points people were particularly focusing on were Piper and Samirah (particularly because Piper had featured prominently again in Trials of Apollo recently and the third MCGA book had further emphasized and discussed Samirah being Muslim, since it was supposed to take place during Ramadan). Basically each had multiple posts breaking down the ways they were depicted incorrectly or offensively. The entire fandom for a little bit was VERY intensely discussing this (and it's around this time the "RR crit" tag got very popularized on tumblr - it did exist before, but suddenly was being used VERY frequently - cause it was that wide-spread - though the discussion took over basically every side of Riordaverse social media on different platforms). People really wanted Rick to respond to these criticisms, so he did!

He made two blog posts, one about Piper and one about Samirah. He has since deleted both so the links are to archived versions. The short version: he essentially tried to justify his poor research and double-down that he hadn't written them offensively, actually, people were just being mean to him. The fandom, of course, reacted poorly to this.

[Further elaborated events under the cut since this got a bit lengthy]

(Fun fact, this all happened within a month or so of the time i posted an open letter on aphobic tropes in the Riordanverse that Rick replied to, and then he immediately followed with announcing that Reyna was intended to be ace-coded [which cause a LOT of fandom debate] before Rick dipped for a couple of weeks, and then came back to post the blog posts in response to Piper and Sam stuff. So I like to jokingly refer to this as "The time I imploded the fandom/drove Rick off of twitter." Twas I that set the house ablaze.)

Rick fully left social media after this and the LT Musical social media manager became Rick's social media manager for the time being.

So this all happened June/July of 2020. Tower of Nero would end up being published in October of 2020 and a few months after that Rick would state that he was done with the series and wouldn't be writing any more series installments involving Percy, and also that he wouldn't be writing a Nico quest following Tower of Nero as it "wasn't his place to" and encouraged the community to write their own versions of Nico's story.

The community continued to circulate the tumblr posts and discuss the topics of Rick's offensive character depictions, and this is also where we see the dramatic shift in how the fandom depicts Piper in fanwork (though in most cases it is admittedly not an improvement 😬) because of all this discussion. This is also around the time when the fandom brought Viria under scrutiny claiming that she was whitewashing Piper as part of the same discussions, through the justification that she was drawing Annabeth as having tan skin (which she does canonically), and if Annabeth has tanner skin then Piper then that's whitewashing Piper? Except they were using completely separate images of not fully rendered Piper art versus Annabeth in dramatic lighting, so it's all very awkward and poor logic, and did actually get kind of racist. A lot of people were calling it "Tannabeth Blackchase" (yeah, i know) or similar and a common sentiment you'd see repeated is "Don't draw Annabeth as having darker skin than Piper, because that's offensive/racist/whitewashing." (Note: it was not phrased "don't draw Piper as having lighter skin than Annabeth" - we also won't get into certain offensive depictions of Native Americans, but I digress). But yeah, the Annabeth stuff in all that did not age well at all.

Anyways, in October of 2021 however Rick would announce that he was co-writing The Sun And The Star - with a lot of heavy emphasis on how Mark Oshiro works as a sensitivity reader, and some false advertising from the official social media that Mark Oshiro was the first time a non-Riordan author would be collaborating on the series (disregarding the ghostwriters completely). One of the big criticisms in the breaking down of issues in Rick's writing was his lack of ever seeking a sensitivity reader, and fans claiming that a sensitivity reader could solve a lot of the problems. This was basically Rick's "look! I totally listened!!!!" (though it did little to actually improve things, based on the book) and in TSATS as well Piper gets a large cameo at the end where the text very directly addresses a lot of points made in criticism of Rick's writing of her.

We also then of course got the CoTG trilogy later, explicitly stated to be for advertising purposes for the show.

So basically, short version: Rick came under scrutiny for a lot of offensive writing within the span of two months, made some bad blog posts doubling down about it, left social media. TOA ends. Rick says he wasn't going to continue the series/write what would become TSATS. Community celebrates the end of of the franchise but also continues to discuss Rick's poor writing and the blog posts at length. Rick suddenly announces TSATS and Mark Oshiro's involvement. Everybody gets distracted from being mad. Show announcement stuff also happens and the discussions peter out.

[driveintheaterofthemind]

Arthouse Muppets

The Scarlet Pimpernel featuring Kermit, Piggy And Sam The Eagle

Art by Bruce McCorkindale

[manichewitz]

i dont think yall understand how floored i was when i found out that the interview with the vampire books are actually incredibly erotically gay for real and not just light queercoding or fan's gay ships?? bc this changes everything. i had always assumed anne rice hated fanfic authors for making her male characters fuck, but no, she just wanted to be the only author making her male characters fuck

[nereidprinc3ss]

the nereidprinc3ss experience!

☾ masterlist (always updated)

☾ inbox guidelines (requests closed. i don’t write x mgg.)

☾ read my manifesto (18+)

☾ my username explained

☾ decolonize Palestine!

all works reader x spencer reid!

thank you for stopping by <3

[pedanticat]

Do you know what's funny about A Glitch In Time? You could read the book without ever watching the show and you wouldn't even be able to tell that Danny and Sam are dating until near the end of the book when Sam gives Danny a kiss on the cheek. And even then, it could be read as platonic. Not once is Sam referred to Danny as his girlfriend nor is there any mention of their relationship.