#but the male lead acts like one so i guess it counts lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

korrasgonefishing · 7 months ago

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OMG?? YES YES YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!! I overanalysed and added some stuff!!

It's less "what if it was more chill" and more about "the coin has two sides" type of thing, finding the good in the bad, you know? But I totally get you. Also I'm really glad to know you liked my post that much, because your post is insane it's sooo good!

Fem!Mako not having a single woman to look up to or to rely on in her childhood is awfully sad to think about. I thought that if avatar world is much less sexist than ours, then there should have been at least some female gangsters, right? But when you watch the show, looking for the background characters or trying to notice background details, there's not a single woman in sight. So we're left with Mako trying to navigate through everything mostly on her own, not counting the small moments when women around give her tips and advices with the limited time they have together - they all have their jobs to do, after all, not much time to chat.

Oh yeaaaaah!!! Momboss and detectivedaughter! So true! Mako finally finding an older woman she can rely on, Lin seeing so much of herself in this girl she begins to treat her like a daughter she never had. Lin realising how Mako never had the chance to fully explore girlhood and going "I had to figure this out on my own, but you won't have to, I'm going to help and I'm not taking no for an answer". Two emotionally repressed women taking care each other, having a cute mother-daughter relationship - from a safe distance, of course, because they're weirdos <3

Comphet (by the way, sorry to hear that you had to deal with this yourself - I hope you're doing better now)... Much to think about... Wait, would she have dated Hasook (the waterbender in their team before Korra joined btw) and made everything worse, leading to him leaving Fire Ferrets after he does poorly in a match and Mako tried (in a rather rude manner) to figure out why he thew the match? Would that be the reason she could tell Bolin to not date Korra, because "dating your teammates is a bad idea" - she would have been speaking from experience? Not sure though if Bolin would have acted on his crush on Korra when there's no one around dating in real time. What is interesting is that fem!Mako learned the hard way that men can be incredibly cruel, and yet she still keeps forcing herself into straight dating. Because she can't have feelings for Korra, liking men and going on dates with them is the norm, right? It's almost like she is doomed to be proven again and again that most men are awful. Thus she forces herself to be an example for Bolin again. Because her poor little bro has no positive male role models besides Toza. So when Lin comes around Mako finally can feel at piece. She finally has an adult woman she looks up to. She allows herself to be taken care of now! Were the circumstances a little bit different she would have thought of Lin as her mother - she probably still feels that deep down, but she would never tell that to anyone, not here and not now. Fem!Mako and Lin both allowing themselves to be vunerable around each other... And after Mako finally has someone to rely on she starts to see that some adult men around aren't that bad - Tenzin is ok (when you don't think too hard about how exactly older he is than Pema), Bumi is not bad either. Bolin is in good hands, letting him hang around Air Temple island is not a bad idea. She can stop worrying so much about him and let him be mostly on his own. Varrick though... Well, I guess I'm giving her another reason to hate his guts lol - get away from her brother, she has seen how you treat your main actress, you're a bad influence -_-

Oooh fem!Mako's gender issues, my favorite! She's so gender. But what could be interesting to me is fem!Mako being properly introduced to the gendered stuff, finally being given a choice - and then she tries it out and she doesn't like it. Surviving on the streets, she wasn't given a choice - no matter how pressing the societal expectations of how a girl should look or act, it didn't matter in the moment she and her little brother were just trying to make it to the next day. Her femininity was ripped from her. And now she was finally given an option. Mako was finally guided by Lin, whom she would consider her mother if the memory of her actual mother wasn't so idealised and distant, she tried to see what sticks, and she didn't quite get it. She has a right to refuse it. The world doesn't have to operate under secret rules anymore. She is grateful to learn this, she knows the nuances of how it works now and she still decied that it's not for her. It's nobody's choice to make but hers. You know, like Toph in "Tales of Ba Sing Se", or Smellerbee style? Her relationship with femininity is complex and also she's butch, your honour 👍 (mom said it's my turn to project on her) Lesbian!Makorra - two gnc girlfriends ooooh...

sooo in regards to @korrasgonefishing’s post that I rb mentioning my fem!mako post and how I was talking about how the bending brothers’ batman ahh backstory would be even more tragic for a little girl because humans can be miserable creatures and they were like ‘oh but what if it was more chill’ and then got talking about bloodstains and I was thinking

oh. mako was orphaned at 8 years old. her mom never would’ve had time to teach her little girl about periods because why would she? they have all the time in the world.

and that’s got me thinking, damn, she wouldn’t have known anything about girlhood. maybe the prostitutes who take pity might tell her the blood doesn’t mean she’s dying, but they probably don’t have much more to teach her that she wants to know, nor would many care to spare the time. and im sure canon mako was the same, not really knowing anything about what to do when he got older, only able to teach bolin how to shave when he’s got a million little nicks on his own face from trial and error.

and that was sad again, my apologies. but it could be happy! and guess howwwwww,, momboss and daughtercop!

so since they’re the sillies ever and also chronically emotionally impaired, their girlhood bonding moment when mako fucks up. (also both of them not really having ‘girlhood’ because of shit ass childhoods… hmm beifong family angst save me…. wait lin beifong learning how to girl on her own because toph never thought to teach her… toph realizing she fucked up way too late because it wasn’t forcing her girl to be a dolly the way toph’s parents had forced her, she just wanted to learn how 2 use eyeshadow,,,, beifong angst save me)

so anyways. mako is so #silly and unaware that chronic lesbianism exists so she’s trying to comphet so hard and going on dates with the biggest fuckin douchebags ever (bcuz they’re ‘manly’ and she has a reason other than being queer for not really liking them) and trying to convince herself she does like them. and essentially she finds this one guy who realllllly fucks her over and he comes into the station to try and embarrass her too, going off about how she could use some makeup and that she acts more like a man than him and. ouch. because she’s always had this problem, she tries to make herself a role model for bolin, but she hates it because being a girl is a piece of her identity that literally cannot be taken away and she’s just letting herself lose it? my fem!mako is cis but she has so many gender feelings because. yeah.

anyway lin to the rescue! who tf are YOU to come into MY station and harass MY officer? I suggest you walk ur smelly ass right back out or you don’t want to find the fuck out what I can charge you with. cuz she’s silly.

and then cue sullen pissy mako cuz she’s like… 18. she’s still a teenager and one of her biggest insecurities just got targeted in front of all her coworkers who she knows already don’t respect her. so she’s miserable the rest of the day,,, until lin to the rescue again!!!

she pulls her daughter aside cuz she’s worried (not that she’ll say so) and is like. don’t let him get to you cuz he’s an asshole and doesn’t really have much worth saying and less worth listening to. you’re allowed to wear light makeup and stuff at the station if you want to, and if you’re really bugged I can pinch someone’s ear to get you some accommodations. because she’s mother.

but then mako is like I FONT KNOW HOWWWW and crying cuz she’s lowkey devastated she never had someone to teach her… anything. she doesn’t really know how to use pads (being broke means you learn how to make bootlegs of, like, everything), she’s never even owned makeup, she hasn’t worn a dress since she was 7, and she doesn’t know any of the girl things every girl seems to know because she has no mom‼️‼️

and lin goes. hm. I am tragically reminded of myself right now. instead of Dealing with that, I’m going to aggressively help and thus permanently insert myself as a mother figure in my favorite kid’s life. so she, over time and gradually less awkward invitations to her house, teaches mako how to use makeup, slightly enjoying being able to experiment with mako’s uniquely distinct features. she teaches her about period cycles and how to cope, and goes shopping for pretty clothes that she insists on paying for at the last second (“you paid for the food already.” “yeah, chief, from the CHEAPEST VENDOR IN RC?? I thought you hated their food!?” she does. she knew mako needed to pay for something, and felt bad picking anything pricey.) and tells mako about her own girlhood and they both are girls.

this is insane wish fulfillment for me btw. what I could’ve had w my mom if I was normal lololol but anyway. I hope that got silly enough at the end cuz I was thinking about my own comphet era writing this and it hurt my soul a little bit !!

#my things #mako #fem!mako #lin beifong #sorry if this is incomprehensible i wrote it late at night #i know i mostly repeated what you wrote but i couldn't help myself #like i'm obsessed!!!! i'm overanalysing your post. i'm picking it apart like ingredients in a sandwich #now i realised that i have written lin pretty passive in here but i i'm not going to edit this post again. i spent enough time on this #that's because i have my own thoughts on their relationship and i'm going to elaborate on that some day probably

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slutsofren · 4 years ago

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Danger Days Chapter 6: Look Alive, Sunshine

summary: the three of you find more questions than answers and the start of a whole new fuckin' problem im so so so sorry

warnings: tw for gore, bloodshed, hurt/little comfort, angst, gunfight, etc

word count: 4,166 she’s a big bitch lol

read on ao3 here / masterlist

“Let’s look around,” Ellie said dejectedly.

Joel walked off on his own, giving the three of you some space. Ellie went through a door and walked down the hall to her right, following it.

The halls and rooms here were void of your previous allies, not a single soul seemed to be here but you could still make out traces of equipment and feel a semblance of sentimentality from your memories. Damned memories tickling at the edge of your mind.

You picked up some papers and read them quickly, hearing Ellie somewhere in another room asking if anybody is there and Joel off to your right in some other room shuffling around. There was still quite a bit of medical paperwork on the hopes of a cure, of somebody like Ellie coming by.

Unfortunately the research was only bits and pieces but you could catch an idea of a project involving infected monkeys. Suddenly you were startled as Ellie shouted, “Yoo-hoo! Fireflies! Cure for mankind over here! Anyone?”

Before you could tell her to stop, Joel reprimanded her. “Let’s keep it down until we figure out what’s going on.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw him savenging around, picking up remnants of med kits, gears, even forgotten bullets and tools. Idly you think hJoel has the right idea and go off searching around too, pocketing the rest of the papers to finish reading them later.

The three of you continue looking quietly until coming to the conclusion there’s not much here.

“You sure this is where they’d be,” Joel asks you.

“Positive. That room over there was my uncle’s office,” you pointed towards an open door. “They must have pushed back further into the building.”

Ellie was the first to walk down a hall, finding it leading across to a landing with elevators and stairs. The man stayed behind for a beat, eyeing you. Likely second-guessing your motioves. Eventually he turned and walked away, following the teen. At the center of it all were large black containers and she kneeled in front of an open one and began to read, Joel joining her in flipping through the papers.

“Nothing useful,” Ellie states, throwing the papers down a bit more harshly than necessary.

“Ain’t nothin’ here but a bunch of medical mumbo-jumbo.”

You reach for some of the books and a binder and flip through them quickly too, noting some words about failed specimens and subjects not surviving an experiment until ultimately being harvested. Whatever they were doing wasn’t going well and they seemed to be feeling the weight of morality on their shoulders. There was an entry logged by some Doctor Anderson about feeling conflicted about torturing humans and questioning if it was worth it.

Shutting the binder quickly and throwing it in your backpack to finish reading it later, your mental dialog cut short as Ellie sighed heavily, “I don’t get it.”

“Looks like they all just packed up and left in a hurry, unless you got a better idea?”

Before you could answer, a loud metallic bang hit from the floor above the three of you. Ellie and Joel looked at each other before she said a bit grimly, “Maybe not all of ‘em left.”

“Stay close,” Joel commanded.

The stairs up to the third floor was behind Ellie and she went up first as you finished zipping up your backpack and tossing it on.

The floor above was more or less the same, open to the central garden in the middle of the building, objects in disarray, out of use vending machines that you’re pretty positive you used to pry open to steal sodas from. All this, but no Fireflies.

Joel went through a door on the left, probably scavenging for more things to find whereas you and Ellie went the scenic route on the outside corridor.

“What do you think happened?”

“Considering they had enough time to pack up research,” you pointed at some boxes, “they must have left willingly.” You shuffled through some more papers, looking for a clue. “But the question is, why leave?”

Ellie walked inside a door and followed the path of some wires that lead to an old flood light, “There are no bodies. That’s good, right?”

“If we find out where they went,” came Joel’s voice from behind you two.

You followed Ellie down the hall, peering into rooms and broken windows to your left. Suddenly there was another noise coming from behind and when the three of you turned, the very same flood light you’d all passed knocked over, lying prone on the ground.

“Shit,” Joel whispered.

“Um… So it’s probably clickers, right?”

You flashed Ellie a look, “Not the time.”

“Right.”

You all held your breath for a few moments, trying to listen until Joel broke the silence, answering Ellie. “No. Clickers don’t hide.”

He looked at you, giving you a once-over, likely weighing the possibility of you betraying him. You responded in kind expression, silently telling him to give whatever plot he has in mind a try.

Wary old bastard, you thought. As if you’d pull a stunt this far into your mission together, even after he began to act lukewarm to your presence.

You took the lead down a tarp covered hall, not really remembering this area much. They probably did push up to these higher levels judging by all the lab equipment left behind.

Digging in your memory, you recalled everybody keeping to the first and second floors in this building to make bailouts quicker. The militia men were on the rooftops to keep an eye out for any stray hunters or other unfriendlies.

Whatever happened on these floors were not from when you kept around.

Your trio came to a corner room that looked as if it were being used as an x-ray exam area, there were large black television-like screens on the wall that had some mangled imagery on them. Whatever it was put a shudder through you. Along the back wall, Joel found an x-ray abandoned on the counter and picked it up, when you and Ellie looked over his shoulder it looked like a skull with fungal growth on it. Like somebody who was infected for quite some time.

“Gross.” Ellie pretended to gag when she saw the photo.

Joel tucked the x-ray away and went on to look around, you followed by looking in the cabinets for alcohol disinfectant. “They had to have left something behind,” you mumbled to yourself as you began to feel the inklings of irritation slip into your bones.

Joel went to another door, this time leading to some room to the right but as he opened it, a screech came and he jumped, “Jesus!”

You drew your pistol from your hip and pointed it outwards, pushing Ellie behind you until you could hear chittering.

Fuckin’ monkeys , you think as you put your weapon down, faintly seeing three monkeys jump out a window on the opposite side of the room.

Ellie walks next to Joel, peeking into the lab he was stepping into and he leans towards her, “Well, at least it aint clickers.”

“Yeah. No Fireflies either,” she steps into the room. She throws her arms open wide, “Well, maybe in all that research they turned into fucking monkeys.”

You try to stifle a laugh but fail, a light giggle leaves your lips. “At least they’re not flying monkeys.”

“Just keep searching, we'll find something,” Joel says, shooting you a pointed look about your banter with Ellie.

The room looked like it used to be a science lab, naturally. The left and back side of the room were lined with metal cages, likely the ones that originally held the monkeys. Otherwise, there were large black countertop tables around, probably where students listened to their lecture and did hands-on assignments. Joel approached one of the tables in the middle, picking up what looked to be a recorder and pressed play.

A male voice clicked on. There were sounds of shuffling and screeches from the monkeys in the background. “That’s four palettes of lab equipment all packed up and ready to go. Now - big question is what do we do with all you guys. They say the tainted batch needs to be put down. You know what I say? I say screw that. Who made a bigger sacrifice than you, right? If anyone deserves to run free out there it’s-. Hey, easy! Agh. Shit. Oh, no. It bit me. Oh my god,” his breath gets heavy and the recorder stops abruptly.

Holy fuck, they were purposefully infecting animals , you think in horror.

“I’m sure glad we didn’t mess with them monkeys,” Joel says. “Did you know?”

You look at him wide-eyed and slack jawed. “Not a fuckin’ clue. I know my uncle was running blood tests and cell regrowth experiments but nothing like that.”

“He didn’t say where they went,” Ellie said, eyeing the two of you. The tension was minorly palpable, whatever small victory you gained in the camradiery field was now likely gone between Joel and you.

“I know, let’s keep looking,” Joel responded.

You fixed your composure and tried to reassure her, “We’ll find them.”

Your small trio followed the room into another, searching that one but finding nothing of interest in the drawers or on the tables. Not even another research binder. There was another door to the right and Joel approached it, trying to push his way in but there was a green metal object keeping it closed. He looked to you, “Hey, come help me.”

Stepping beside him, the two of you pushed against the door, throwing yourselves against it repeatedly to open it until it gave way. Joel gave you a tense nod, a silent thanks as he walked in first, Ellie close on his heels.

It wasn’t until you entered the room did you see it- the body. It looked to have been dead for quite a while, the bones were very obvious but still held together by the clothes wrapped around them. The person was sitting at a desk, facing the window, where Joel loomed over it as if it didn’t bother him and he picked up what looked to be another recorder.

Click. “If you’re looking for the Fireflies, they’ve all left,” a voice said grimly. You recognized it as the same one from earlier.

Ellie looked up from a binder she was flipping through, “Yeah, no shit.”

“I’m dead,” the man continued, “Or I will be soon. Got me some time to reflect.” Joel fast forwards through the tape, “...been years that felt like we were…”

He fast forwards again, “...fucking thing was a giant waste of ti-...”

And again, “...not gonna do this anymore…”

Ellie sighs while you pace, wishing to listen to the tape in more detail later. “Come on,” Joel grumbles as he fast forwards it yet again.

“...looking for the others, they’ve all returned to Saint Mary’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. You’ll find them there. Still trying to save the world. Good luck with that.”

Ellie sounding mildly hopeful looks to both of you, “Do either of you know where that is?”

“I know the city,” he nods before turning to catch you chewing on your fingernails in thought. “You?”

“I- I remember Marlene mentioning it to Regan on occasion but they talked about it like it was abandoned. I’ve never been there.”

“Is it far,” Ellie asked.

“It ain’t close. I mean on horseback-,” he stops abruptly, something catching his attention out the window.

“What?”

Out of the corner of your eye you see it too. Flashlights peeking through the windows. Just as Ellie asked if they were Fireflies, the light shines on them as they stood by the window and Joel pushed her down, ordering her and you to hit the deck just as whoever was on the other end of that light took a shot at you all, shattering the window.

“Shit,” you shout, ducking down to avoid the coming onslaught of gunfire.

Ellie looked at you, “Who the fuck are these guys?”

He looked at you angrily, “Did you lure them here? Is this some kind of trap?”

“Fuck you, Joel Miller! I didn’t.”

He stared you down. “Fine, It don’t matter,” Joel argued, “We know where to go. Let’s get the hell outta here.” He jerked his chin at you and spit, “Lead the way.”

You wiped the initial shock from your system and went into mission-mode, keeping yourself calm and alert. They followed you out of the room, the three of you crouching to avoid being spotted by the new threat through the windows.

Making your way through the anteroom to the office then through the lab as silently and rapidly as possible while crouching. It wasn’t until you reached the x-ray exam room when you were hit in the chin with something hard, knocking you down, dizzy.

Your mind and vision were in a haze but you managed to catch the vague shape of Joel rush somebody, likely the person who knocked you over, through the newly forming tears in your eyes. Fuck , you thought, your face hurting like a bitch.

Ellie yelled something as she went to help Joel, apparently getting the bright idea to take Joel’s machete from his backpack and swinging it wildly at the stranger.

As they fought the man, you shook your head and rose on your haunches, still dizzy. You could make out the faint shape of a second man running up to attack but through your shifting vision, saw three of him. It didn’t stop you from raising one of your dual guns from your thigh holster, taking aim. Breathing in, slowly breathing out, you took the shot when the three men formed a single one.

The loud bang reverberated through the halls, momentarily distracting you from the brawl happening somewhere to your right but soon that silenced.

“What the fuck was that,” you asked nobody in paricular.

“Don’t look like Fireflies to me,” Joel mumbled in reply, hinting you must have been telling the truth.

Together, you all walked down the tarp covered hall from earlier but saw four shapes run past some red smoke on the only way out of the building, likely trying to cut you all off. “Stay back,” Joel said as he flung one of his makeshift bombs at the intruders. After a moment, it went off and sickly screams were either cut short or continued onto a deadly moan.

Each of you hid behind random turned over tables, guns drawn.

Although six of these strangers were down, it seemed there were more as another came in through the right side, taking a shot at Ellie. Joel responded in kind and shot him square in the neck, the blood splattering a nearby wall.

You followed suit and took aim at somebody ducking below a desk much like you. Your aim was a little off because of that damned kick to the head but you got the guy nonetheless. It was messier than you’d like, the newly forming headache was making things much more difficult.

Together with Joel, you took two more men down until you reached the small lobby where the stairs were only to find another flare emitting red smoke. “What the hell,” you wondered aloud.

“Probably to tell the others how to get to where we were, building is like a maze.”

With that, you and Joel look off, making sure to keep Ellie behind you as your group traversed down the steps, finding another flare. Joel heard them before you and raised his gun. You followed as two more men rounded the corner, both being taken down by the bullets you both expelled into their bodies.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears at the adrenaline rushing through your veins, no matter how much you remained focused at the task at hand. You took a breath in an attempt to ground yourself, following Joel closely behind as he was about to round the same corner, stepping over the two dead bodies when you grabbed Joel, pulling him back as a bullet whizzed by. “Fuckin’ hell,” he gasped.

Taking to the wall you peered out and quickly aimed, letting another bullet rain free. It clashed into the wall behind your target, narrowly missing as the man ducked behind the poor choice of the glass railing. Joel put his hand on your waist, pulling you close as he leaned back around taking his chance on the guy. He must have made it count because soon you heard a soft thud of the body collapsing.

If you weren’t so preoccupied trying to stay alive, you might have noticed Joel kept his large hand on you for a few moments longer than necessary.

Joel left the relative safety of the second floor lobby, nearly running to the exit. You grabbed onto Ellie’s hand as you shoved your nearly empty gun into it’s holster on your thigh, following him. He came to the closed door that led to the next area of classrooms to get you all down to the ground floor but just as he went to open it, it banged open from the inside starling all of you. The force was so strong that it pushed Joel to the glass railing behind him, his body teetering over the edge.

“Joel!”

You dropped Ellie’s hand as you ran to him, trying to get the other man off of him as he choked your companion. By the force and chaos, the rail gave way underneath Joel. As he fell, he pulled the stranger with him.

A scream surely left you as you watched in horror as the two men fell to the ground but it grew louder when you noticed a sickening metal bar poking it’s way through Joel’s stomach, staining red in the sunlight. Beside him, the attacker lay dead in a mangled heap of limbs, his neck at an unnatural angle.

You began to shuffle onto your stomach to drop the distance from the balcony walkway to the ground floor, Ellie close behind you copying your maneuver. Together, you both landed on the ground awkwardly and unbalanced. It was so unbelievably impossible to stay focused as you watched Joel writhe in pain from the impalement as loud banging seemed to invade your senses.

Ellie jumped straight to Joel asking in a rushed panic, “What do you want me to do?”

You couldn’t hear what he said when the double doors burst open, two men with a baseball bat and machete appearing. You grabbed both of your guns, unleashing lead into them with a little more force than necessary.

When you turned back around, you saw Ellie trying to lift Joel. “Don’t!”

You ran to him and dropped to your knees, removing your backpack and began to scrounge around for clean gauze. “You’re only going to create more damage, you old bastard. Stay still.”

With the gauze in hand, you motioned for Ellie to put as much pressure as she could on the frontside of the wound. You tried your best not to jolt him around so much as you tried to assess the entry wound on his back, only to find it was buried in cement beneath him. He groaned, calling out a string of curse words.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t need to if you had good bedside manners. Goddamned brat.”

His small jab at you could have made you cry if you weren’t so invested in keeping the old man alive and with no other alternative to removing the rebar safely from him, you had no choice but to lift him away from it.

You reached into your backpack once more and grabbed a strap of leather you usually kept close by, mostly to fiddle with, and shoved it into his mouth. “To keep you from biting off your own tongue,” you explained while adjusting your position to be directly behind his upper body to prepare and stanche the blood flow from his back. “Although I think we could all use the peace and quiet.”

Whatever comeback he had was cut off as he yelled, muted by the bit. While he was distracted by your words, you had nodded to Ellie to lift Joel straight up. He quickly fell to his knees as he tried to stand, probably ready to pass out from the pain and you padded the entry wound with gauze, holding it tightly.

His words came out weak as he told Ellie, “Just get to the damn horses.”

She looked at you and you nodded, removing one hand to give her a gun. “Do whatever it takes, kiddo.”

She walked in front of you both, her arms held high with the gun in her hand, ready to take on anybody else. She led you both to a classroom and knocked over some wood panels that barely covered a broken window.

“Do you think you can handle it,” you asked him.

He didn’t answer, instead choosing to throw his body over the edge, finding himself on his back once more. “Come on, move,” Ellie demanded of him as you jumped through the window after them. Just as she got him sitting up against a table, another man burst through the door across the classroom, gun ready to fire.

Seeing as you were getting rather low on your own bullets, you reached for Joel’s revolver and threw yourself out from behind the lab table, firing two shots and hitting him in the torso.

“Come on, we gotta get you outta here,” you told him. One look at Ellie and you saw her hands and sweater covered in Joel’s blood, you likely looked the same. Brushing those thoughts away, you and her flanked him on either side, trying to walk him out.

“No, I’m okay,” he moaned. Trying to push you both off him.

“Like shit,” Ellie threw back, “You’re not okay, Joel. Now come on! Fucking walk!”

You kept your free hand up, gun drawn, and Ellie matched your pose to his left. “Down this hall,” you directed, “To the left is the main entrance, we can leave through there.”

Don’t die on me now, Joel Miller , you silently wished, hoped, prayed.

Joel began to sway between you two, his feet were failing beneath him. His body in your arms grew heavier and sluggish with each step making it harder to walk straight. You really tried to keep the gauze at his back secure against the wound but it was hard to do that while also trying to keep him balanced. As you were distracted by assessing the man, he moaned out, “Up.”

You and Ellie looked up the stairs that were against the wall in the lobby and saw two men coming towards you all, “There!”

Ellie raised her gun first, taking shots at random and you did too. It was difficult to do while doing everything possible to not drop Joel but somehow, they too, fell dead along the stairs. On his other side, the teen poked at him out of breath, “I swear to god, I get you out of this, you’re so singing for me.”

You decide to jump in on the joke, trying to lighten the mood, “I think you mean ‘for us’, Ellie.”

Joel coughed a laugh, “You wish.”

Slowly the front entrance inched closer. Ellie left to pry it open and let you two through and Joel let go of you, shoving his body and burst through the secondary doors. He lost his balance and fell down the steps only to see as some other hooded figure with his hands on Whiskey and Callus’ reigns.

Before the straggler could even draw a weapon, you and Ellie took shots at him. Joel’s revolver clicked, notifying it was out, just as the man let go of the horses.

You ran to Joel, lifting him up to his feet. He groaned in pain, “I know, I’m sorry. Just a little longer, alright, cowboy?”

He gave you an odd look as Ellie appeared and she asked him, “Can you get on?”

Whether or not he can is entirely different than if he will, you thought. You were proven right as he jumped up on Whiskey, not even noticing he was getting on the wrong horse.

“Ellie, get on Callus,” you told her as you also swung your leg over Whiskey, saddling in front of Joel. “As for you, don’t bleed all over my goddamn horse. Hold tight.”

A part of you was worried that he didn’t even bother to jab, you kicked Whiskey’s underbelly and Joel’s body slouched against your back, passing out. The fact the warmth that seeped through your body was likely his blood was gnawing against the corners of your mind but you shooed the thoughts away. Together with Ellie, you filed out of the university as fast as you could, not looking back.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel (the last of us)#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel tlou x reader insert #joel tlou x reader #joel miller / reader #joel tlou x you #joel (the last of us) x reader #asher's writing #danger days fic #pedro pascal joel miller #posted on ao3

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inkandpen22 · 4 years ago

Text

Time is Irrelevant (2/?): Vive La France

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x Female!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of death

Word Count: 4.5k (she’s long lol sorry about it)

Part Summary: Y/N wakes up dazed and confused. From then on, things only get more confused as she starts to realize she’s in 18th century France with a strange man.

Masterlist

I gradually open my eyes, my vision blurry at first. A bright light burns them and I feel as though I’m staring into the gates of Heaven. Then, the memory of what happened jolts me awake. Startled, I frantically scan my surroundings. I come to the horrifying conclusion that I’m no longer at the table in the student union. In fact, I have no clue where I am! I’m in a bedroom, on a bed with tall dark wood posts. The room looks too grand and vintage to be anywhere on campus. It’s baby blue walls and crown molding don’t exactly scream cinderblock dorm room. The furniture appears to be so detailed and too fragile to touch, which will be a problem because I woke up on the bed. Am I in a museum?

I stand up cautiously, afraid someone may barge in. I glance down and I see I’m in a white cotton nightgown. A grandma nightgown, seriously? How did I get here and why am I in grandma's pajamas? As I take in my appearance, I don’t see any injuries or bruising, that’s good. I feel alright, panicked, but alright. My brain is pounding against my skull. I can hear my mom now, ranting in my mind. She’d say, “don’t hurry to get up! You could have a concussion.” I rarely listen to her and I don’t plan on starting now.

I step closer to what appears to be a balcony and I peer out to get an idea of where I am. Leaning over the iron rail, I see a dirt road below. People crowd the streets, they maintain a loud banter. Their clothes, they’re odd. Wait, is that man wearing a white wig? Where the hell am I? A gold plated carriage goes by down the street and a man yells at the top of his lungs in what sounds to me as French. As I focus on the commotion, all I hear is French. I take note of the architecture of the surrounding buildings and it all is very French, specifically Parisian. I’m not an expert who has never been to France but I would say the architecture of Paris is pretty iconic. Wait no, this can’t be real! It couldn’t be possible in Paris! How could I possibly be in the United States one minute, then wake up in France? It’s not possible. My heart drops, I’ve been kidnapped and taken out of the country!

“Good! You’re awake!”

I jump at the sudden voice. When I whip around, I spot the strange man from before entering the room.

“Put this on,” he instructs, tossing me a gown nonchalantly. “You stand out like a lily in a field full of daisies.”

I take in his appearance. He’s decked out in colonial-era clothing like the cluster of people down below. My mind screams, reminding me that this is all ridiculous. There’s no way I’m in France and there must be a good reason as to why everyone is dressed as though we’re about to go eat some cake with Marie Antonette. I snickered lightly, baffled at the idea of any of this being real. I’m clearly still asleep.

“Y/N!” The strange professor snaps his fingers and I'm pulled from my thoughts. “Please, before we’re late!”

I snap out of the daze and remember that this man has kidnapped me. Chucking the dress onto the bed, I proceed to bark at him. “Where am I?! Where have you taken me?!” My voice progressively escaping me in screams.

He grins slyly, staring into my soul. “I believe you've already figured that out for yourself…”

I shake my head, laughing at what he’s suggesting. He must think I’m an idiot. He narrows his eyes at me, curious.

“Oh please,” I tease him. “You can’t possibly think I would believe any of this? I’m in college, not kindergarten! Now, let me go!” I start to approach the door but he steps in my way.

His fingers wrap around my forearm with a forceful grip. “Look Y/N, we don’t have time for this! You ARE indeed in France. You ARE in 1778! Now, get dressed! We can’t be late!”

I stare into his eyes as he shouts this nonsense to me. The miniature oceans that encompass them. They have this electricity about them that draws me in and I feel hypnotized. Yet, I must remain level headed if I plan on escaping and surviving this.

Aggressively, I yank my arm free. “Let go of me you psycho! Have you lost your mind? There’s no way-”

The professor wraps his arm around me and presses his free hand over my mouth. I scream for someone to help, but my words are muffled against his hand.

“But it is!” He argues, “I possess the ability to time travel! Okay! The Eye of Harmony, Rassilon's Star, it exists!”

Upon hearing his words, I stop fighting him, utterly stunned. His hands ease off of my face and release my arm. My chest rises and plummets at an inconsistent rate. There are very few people who speak of the star. It’s legend, ancient mythology, lost in history.

“But…” I struggle to find the words, “but that's not possible.” My volume has lost its touch. My words flowing out like little puffs of wind.

“But it is! Now, get dressed and I’ll explain everything!” He tells me, seemingly eager to clear the air.

I watch silently as he turns to leave abruptly. Does he drop the bombshell that he may have the most powerful stone in the world then goes to leave? Of course, he would.

As he walks away, he presses, “we have somewhere we need to be and soon!”

Processing the situation, I take matters into my own hands. “Will you just wait for a second?!”

Irritable, he crosses his arms, “what it is?”

“I believe I deserve some sort of explanation! Now! I’m not going anywhere with you until you give me some sort of explanation now!”

He huffs, rubbing his temple. “We’re in France! I need you in that dress! We have an appointment and running late! There’s your explanation! Now if you’ll please,” he gestures towards the gown on the bed.

Swallowing hard, I comprehend the fact that he won’t be so forthcoming with me. I’ve seen plenty of thrillers where a girl is kidnaped and she acts out or doesn’t do anything which leads to her demise. I always shout at the girls to play along until the right opportunity arises. For all I know, I’m somewhere close to school and he’s messing with my head. All I’m sure about is I have to make it home.

“1778 you claim?” I clarify as I pick up the dress on the bed. As I examine the attire, I’m reminded of how uncomfortable women dressed. “This should be interesting...” If I’m going to play along I’ll need the proper attire and this isn’t it. I huff, “I’ll need a corset, heels, shift, pannier-”

The professor waves his hands for me to quiet down. “Yes! Yes, I know! I’ll be sending Joséphine in to help you. Any further questions?”

I shake my head, still struggling to cope.

“Very well,” he bows his head. As soon as he appeared he disappears into the halls. As soon as the door shuts, I feel as though I’m on the verge of fainting. I stumble over to the balcony in search of an escape route. I may only have minutes before he returns.

“I must be dreaming,” I tell myself to remain sane.

He’s really taking this whole charade about time travel seriously. Apart of me wishes to believe what he’s saying is true, the part of me that loves history blindly. If I’m truly in 1778 Paris that would incredible. Yet, I know logically time travel is impossible. Except, according to legend, the Eye of Harmony is said to allow time travel. Of course, that’s just ancient mythology, folklore. There’s no one alive that’s seen the star.

I watch the people in the streets below in awe. It all seems so real, the wagons, women dressed in corsets, and men dressed like the Founding Fathers. He must’ve drugged me, that’s the only explanation. Suddenly, the door creaks behind me and I jump like a scared cat. A lady, whom I assume is Joséphine, enters the room.

“Bonsoir Madame,” she greets me with a curtsy.

“Bonsoir…” I mutter, terrified but trying to remain calm.

Joséphine offers me a reassuring smile. I’m guessing she’s about my age, perhaps a few years older but not much. She guides me over to the vanity gently. At first, I stay as still as a statue. I watch as she picks up a few containers on the table and skims the labels.

“Ah oui!” She blurts out, apparently, she’s found what she was looking for.

After she selects a brush from the jar, she prepares to start on my makeup but I stop her.

“I’m okay, really! I just-”

“Non, non, non,” she objects. “ce soir madame vous devez avoir l'air parfait!”

Great, so if this really is 1778 then I’m about to get a heavy dose of lead poisoning. This white powder she’s spreading on my face makes me look like Casper. I respect the bold fashion of this era but rosy cheeks, cherry lips, and silk white skin, not my best look.

Once I’m suffocating in my dress, she pushes me down into the chair in front of the vanity and roughly yanks my auburn hair up. I study in the mirror as she pins my hair down to my scalp and digs the pins into my head. How the hell am I supposed to balance this clump of hair on my head? It’s taller than my entire head.

“Ouch!” I bark.

“Pardon, Madame,” she apologizes softly.

After I appear the part, Joséphine leads me through the house. It’s beautiful. The detail in the crown modeling and art-like wallpaper are so unique. I gawk at the walls as we walk through each room. She leads the way through the double front doors to a carriage where I’m met by the strange professor.

“Merci,” I thank Joséphine, though the experience wasn’t the most enjoyable.

She bows her head and leaves to return inside. I approach the professor, who’s dressed in the traditional french male attire of the time, wig in all. For a moment, it takes my breath away. I read so many books and seen so many movies about the era but nothing as felt more real than this.

“Nice wig,” I tease a bit, stifling a giggle.

“Dido,” he jokes in return.

“My head feels ten pounds heavier,” I poke at the cotton ball on my head. “How do I balance it?”

“You’ll learn. Takes practice.” The professor chuckles then snap his fingers for the footman to open the door of the carriage. Gesturing toward the door, he allows me to enter first.

I swift my gaze toward our mode of transpiration. I’ve never seen an authentic 18th-century carriage of this magnitude. The gold frame and light baby blue fabric are luxurious. I can only imagine how much history is within this carriage, at least will be I suppose.

“Are you admiring it or afraid of it?” The professor chuckles beside me.

“It’s… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I’m not saying I entirely believe him with his fairytales but nonetheless, this experience so far has been like passages from my textbooks. I can feel him staring at me as I examine the carriage. It’s all too remarkable for me to look away.

“I see Joséphine did your hair and makeup as well, good,” He states with a grin. “If we’ll be at court, you’ll need to look the part.”

Before I have the chance to question his meaning, he offers me his hand to help me into the carriage. I’m hesitant. After all, this dude did kidnap me. As for his reasoning, I’m still in the dark. All I know is, possibly, that I’m in an entirely different country and almost three hundred years in the past, so he claims. I have no idea who he is or why he has me here. Yet, for some strange reason, I find myself trusting him slightly and against my better judgment. It’s his eyes. Every time I fall into them my gut tells me to trust him.

The professor sits across from me and settles in. The footman shuts the door and the driver calls to the horses to go along.

“Court?” I interrogate him, “as in the royal court?”

“Yes, precisely,” he replies as if it makes perfect sense.

He must be bonkers! There is no way we could be on our way to Versailles during the era of the monarchy and dressed like this!

“Right, right…” I raise a brow, “and who is king exactly?”

He rubs his hands up and down his thighs nervously. “That’s where you come in!”

“Me?!”

Quite frankly some rulers were just plain crazy and were temperamental! Plus, the French and English were constantly at war during the 18th century! This isn’t the time to visit for peace and quiet.

He scoffs, leaning forward to keep his voice down. “That’s the reason you’re here Miss Historian! You’re in charge of knowing everything about every century we visit!”

I narrow my eyes, “every century? Last I checked I never agreed to travel across time with you?!”

If that’s even what we’re doing. If he expects me to go to another destination with him he’s sorely mistaken.

He grins, not believing me for a second. “Oh, so you much rather go home? Sit behind a desk instead of meeting the very people you’re studying?”

If any of this was true, he’d have a point. I’ll never grant him the satisfaction of admitting that.

I scoff, “fine! You said it was 1778, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right,” he answers quickly.

“Okay… ” I stare up at the ceiling to focus, reviewing my knowledge of the French monarchy. It appears in my mind like a timeline. I mumble, “1778… that’s in the middle of the American Revolution which means it’s before the French Revolution so the king would be… oh my god!”

My hand flies up to my mouth. I can’t believe it! If this man is telling the truth, then we’re in quite the most interesting year.

His eyes widen in horror and he grips my hands between us. “What?! What is it?!”

“Louis XVI! Louis XVI is the king! Oh, this is too good! Marie freaking Antoinette! Seriously? I can’t believe this!” I squeal, jumping up and down in my seat uncontrollably, causing the carriage to rock.

A part of me is starting to fall for the man’s word, perhaps I really am in 1778. At least then I could actually meet Louis XVI. For a second, I felt myself believing wholeheartedly.

“Is he cruel?! Kind Hearted?! Best king France has ever had?!”

I laugh, has he never picked up a history book?

“Sir, have you never heard of Louis XVI before? He’s infamous! What about the French Revolution? I mean… if we really are where you say we are, we’re living in it!”

He pouts, peering at me like an offended child. “No actually, I have heard of him! I guess you could just say he’s after my time. I’m better acquainted with his father,” he adds in a mutter.

I scrunch my eyebrows, “after your time? How could he be after-”

He cuts me off, “forget it. I’ll explain at a better time. As for now, your job is to inform me of everything I need to know about the French court. I know how to handle royalty and the protocol. All I need is for you to help me with the background information on these individuals. Though all royals are superficially the same I have to gain their trust on a personal level. In exchange, I’ll help you play the part of a lady of the court.”

I huff as I readjust my skirt, somewhat offended. Simply because I wasn’t born an aristocrat with a stick up my butt doesn’t mean I don’t know how to act civilized.

“I know how to be a lady! I can curtsy and whatnot!”

He stifles a laugh, raising a brow. “Y/N, have you ever even met a royal?”

He’s right once again. In my defense, America isn’t exactly crawling with monarchs. We got rid of that whole issue centuries ago.

“No…” I timidly admit.

He has a point, which annoys me. I may have been taught table manners and proper etiquette by my grandmother growing up but her rules are nothing compared to a royal court’s. I would be walking into a lion’s den without Danny’s guidance.

“So then, do we have a deal?” He holds out his hand. A mischievous grin coats his lips.

For all I know, I could be agreeing to anything. He could turn back on his word at any moment. I don’t trust him, not in the slightest. Yet, If I agree for the time being, it could buy me my freedom. I take a chance.

I shake his hand, “deal.”

His eyes widen, “almost forgot!”

He reaches into his frilly French jacket pocket and reveals a key. A standard old, metal key with a long string attached.

“You’ll be needing it.” He assures me as he shifts toward me and begins to put it around my neck.

“What is it?” I ask, still in awe.

“A key…” He sasses.

“Ugh,” I roll my eyes, “obviously! I’m asking why do I need it?”

“It’s to my Tardis,” he states as though everyone has one.

“What the hell-”

The carriage jolts to a stop abruptly. Soon, the driver opens the door for us and offers his hand for assistance. My mind is still focused on the blast the professor just sent in my direction. I’m still stuck on his statement, he’s after my time. What did he mean by that? Then, I learn that magic is basically real, along with time-travel.

My train of thought is soon interrupted by the professor calling my name. I hadn’t noticed him climb out of the carriage I was so deep within myself. I accept the hand of the driver and step down out of the carriage. Many of them that are similar to our own are lined up single file. Danny offers me his arm which I take instantly. I gawk at the copper-colored palace with gold embellishments. I’ve always wanted to visit Versailles. I never would have guessed it would be in this setting. I imagined hundreds of tourists with their phones out, too occupied to enjoy the magnificence in front of them. Instead, I’m surrounded by men in bright colored breeches and women wearing wigs that could reach the heavens.

“Are you alright?” he peers down at me, worried.

“Yes, it’s just… I’ve never seen anything like it,” I admit, breathlessly.

Men and women dressed in extravagant jewels and clothes. Only the highest social figures are gawking at the palace, arm in arm.

“It’s the king’s twenty-fourth birthday ball,” he informs me as we stroll into the palace doors behind various couples of the time.

My pulse must be through the roof I’m so anxious. My mind is racing. Danny is putting on a convincing show that we belong here. He has is his role well-rehearsed it appears.

“Stay close,” he instructs, searching the entrance hall.

I grip his arm, halting before we go in.

“What is it?” The man questions.

“What your name?” I comprehend I’ve never learned it. With everything going on, there was never a proper moment. Now, I realize there will never be.

“I’m the Doctor,” he answers with a sly grin.

“’ The Doctor?’ Well, I’m sorry to break it to you but there’s more than just one doctor in the world,” I laugh, this man can’t be serious.

“No,” he huffs, “my name is Doctor. I’m a... you know what, never mind. I’ll-”

“You’ll explain later,” I finish.

“Look at you catching on quickly,” he compliments and pinches my cheek. I swat his hand away with a frown. Geez, he’s annoying. He’s like the Energizer bunny in human form.

“Let’s head inside,” he instructs, guiding me along.

I adjust my skirt briefly, correcting any wrinkles from the ride here. He clears his throat and my eyes meet him as he gestures toward the ceiling with a smirk. It takes every cell of my being and a lot of self-control to not let my jaw drop. Absentmindedly, my arm falls from the Doctor as he continues to walk down the Hall of Mirrors and leaves me in awe of the architecture. I slowly come to a stop as I become engrossed in the details.

It suddenly hits me like a pile of bricks, this is all real. Everything the Doctor has said must be true. I went along with his word but now I truly believe it. The hand-painted ceiling, the solid gold statues that reflect in the mirrors, the marble walls surrounding them, and the crystal chandeliers that line the grand hall. The remaining light of the setting sun pours in through the windows and bounces off the floor. There is no possible way Versailles could be like this in modern times, it’s far too untouched and pristine. This means I’m honestly, without a doubt, in the year 1778. My heart feels as though it’s plummeted to my stomach. Oh my God, this is remarkable! This is every history lover’s dream! I’m living out my textbooks. I’m experiencing history first hand!

It must’ve taken the Doctor very little time to notice my absence. He calmly approaches me, visibly aware of my clear baffled state. I believe my reaction is valid considering the circumstances.

He whispers, “is it what you imagined based on your history books?”

I shake my head, nearly speechless. All I can do is gawk at everyone and everything around me. “It’s beyond anything I could imagine!” I finally break my attention away from the exquisite art to meet his gaze. “I believe you,” I confess to him.

Slight grin forms on the edge of his lips and his eyes fall to the floor with a slight chuckle. “I always knew you would…” He mutters under his breath.

Offering me his arm, he escorts me into a crowded ballroom. The Doctor must know the layout of the palace quite well unless he’s simply following the flow of the crowd. An orchestra plays in the background as drinks are passed around by servants with trays. I spin around slowly, staring up at the ceiling and chandeliers. All of the stories in these walls, the royals that have lived here, what will become of this palace, my head is spinning as I review the details. The music comes to a sudden halt along with the movement and banter in the room. All attention turns toward the double doors across the ballroom as they swing open. People shuffle closer, peering over each other’s heads to sneak a peek. Trumpets play a melody familiar to anyone, the signal of the King and Queen entering the room. Through the space between heads, I can see glimpses of the young notorious couple. Marie Antoinette’s tall and decorated wig, her pale and porcelain-like skin, her extraordinary gown, all perfect. The crowd disburses and form their miniature groups again. The Doctor snatches two champagne flutes from a passing tray and hands one to me.

“Doctor,” I whisper to him cautiously, in case of prying ears. “Why are we here? Don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic but I don’t understand the purpose?”

He pulls me aside behind one of the pillars for some privacy. He scans the room to make sure no one is watching us. His actions have me wondering if our purpose here could put us in danger.

“How much do you know about the monarchs and the palace itself?”

My brows rise in astonishment, I start to question myself on how he doesn’t find the answer obvious by now. I spent a whole semester studying King Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette, the French Revolution, and Versailles alone. Of course, that doesn’t make me an expert by any means but I would say I’m well-read.

He catches on to my sass and dismisses it. “Fine, fine fine, so you know a lot! Tell me more please!”

I nod, gathering the important bits from memory to summarize it all. To condense all of this history into such a brief yet crucial conversation is anything but fun.

“Okay well, I think the most important fact we have to consider is currently Her Majesty is pregnant with the couple’s first child. The baby will be a girl. Her name will be Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte de Bourbon. The couple will attempt to have more children, to have a male heir, but none will live past the age of eleven. The French Revolution won’t begin for another ten years. Both the King and the Queen will lose their lives, sadly, along with many members of the aristocracy. Then, Napoleon will become emperor. As for Versailles, it was completed in 1668 for King Louis XIV. During the revolution basically, everything will be taken from here. In modern times, the 21st century, most of it will be returned. That’s a summary of some basic information.”

The Doctor gawks at me, “you know all of this by heart? You wonderful little human. How do you memorize it all?”

I shrug, glancing in the direction of where I last saw the royal couple. “I suppose I’ve always cared so much about these people and their stories that it never really leaves me.”

The unfamiliar faces in this room are forming the world I must live in hundreds of years from now and none of them know it. The world will be completely altered by the end of the century. Every single person in this room is set to believe their roles here are unwavering. Little do they know that in less than a decade, all of it will be gone, nothing but a memory.

“I forgot to mention,” The Doctor mumbles and holds up the key that has slipped beneath the front of my dress. “Never lose it. Draw as little attention to it as possible. While we’re here, your job is to play Miss Know-it-all and mine is to find this journal.”

We’re interrupted by the grandfather clock when it dings in the corner. The Doctor’s head whips over in its direction, he checks the time.

“I have to go,” he informs me in a rush.

“But I-” I start, having a million questions.

“I’ll be back. Blend into the crowd! We’ll leave as soon as possible,” he instructs before disappearing into the cluster of people.

I stand awkwardly alone, afraid to move the slightest step. I’m surrounded by a bunch of dead people. Well, they’re not dead now, but when I’m alive they will be. I’m Versailles, holy shit! And I’m not even on a tourist trip to Versailles, no I’m at a ball in the Revolution Era! I would jump up and down squealing but I doubt that’s allowed. Instead, I’ll just smile to myself like an idiot and sip on this champagne.

__________________

Masterlist

#eleventh doctor x reader #doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x you #eleventh doctor #doctor who #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfic #dw #fanfic #imagine

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thequibblah · 3 years ago

Note

⭐️ would love some commentary on that dancing scene (or really any commentary on the various parties thrown by the marauders) from the party happening next to the Potions Club party ⭐️

WELL WELL WELL

"This is...a lot of trouble to go to." "It's the Marauders. They love trouble."

i love writing party scenes (as i'm sure you all know lol) and one of the best/worst things w the marauders parties is striking a balance between their, uh, audacious plans, and what's realistically possible at hogwarts without getting caught. (aka literally why i made up the dodgy lodgings). i went back and forth so long on whether or not they could plausibly have managed that with slughorn's dinner next door, but then was like ah whatever the party has to happen for plot reasons so.... plot ex machina??

anyway, i love using parties to establish character — what a brilliant stage of teenage performance they provide. i love contrasting the hogwarts parties to, say, evan wronecki's — for instance, how lily and co. are more at ease in the former, as seventh years, with their classmates hosting, than they were at evan's nye bash

i also love that it gives me space to establish who is and isn't popular, so to speak, but also who acts or doesn't act the way we presume popular kids will act

doe, for instance, who is by all accounts a level-headed and non-wild person, has a more exciting time on net at marauders' parties than mary (drinking game, kissing remus), though she's not a big drinker and isn't really into parties. but she's comfortable in her own little social circle at a bigger event (like with michael at evan's) and so isn't bothered at all by the marauders' do, because...

She did, in fact, trust the Marauders. Her general belief in the inherent goodness of people notwithstanding, she didn't think they would do anything to harm their friends. Intentionally.

this bit always makes me laugh

as with many things, i feel very saddened that i didn't get to make more out of the fools' olympics (although one could argue that The Dance was a pro) — as in, i wish i'd been able to squeeze more of it into the story itself. i could probably come up with a list of tasks and who completed them LOL

WAIT OH MY GOD I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THIS it just might be my favourite part of this chapter

"How did you do that?" Gillian said, glancing between the other two girls. "Just — drink it without a second thought?" "Practice," said Mary. "Scottish — constitution," David said hoarsely. "I once drank some of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mass Remover," said Priya.

priya is all i aspire to be

can i say, too, it's hilarious to me how many people worried niamh would be a james love interest? i feel like you will not rest easy on that count until he and lily are together... but that is not where the danger lies babes

circling back to popularity/unpopularity, another fun outlier. gillian is first established, in 33, as someone with friends (we see her around sara and in the seventh-year ravenclaws' compartment) but she's not exactly at ease at the party either — recall how she hesitates when mary invites her. only later, in 38, do we realise that our opinion of her has been skewed by the narration (from doe, who naturally assumes any friendly, nice person must have a wealth of friends and be floating through life; and mary, who naturally assumes anyone she isn't bored by must have the social skills of a medieval noblewoman at court), and she's a bit of a pariah in her own house

david, on the other hand, is just flat-out not in his element. and not because of the drinking or the, er, general revelry (see: summer with mary!), even though he doesn't partake much in either. unlike doe, the company breaks rather than makes his enjoyment — he's acutely aware, the whole time, that his cooler, more liked brother is around:

"Not your scene?" "What gave it away?" said David drily. As one they looked at Chris...

...and mary has intuited as much too, even though she has a lot more in common, superficially speaking, with chris than david

so, i think while i was writing this chapter i made a post complaining about how, as much as i love juggling the constraints of historical fiction, i hate that music from the 70s limits me in terms of tracklists. i.e., when i say a certain record is playing i can't just hit shuffle and go somewhere entirely different to set the mood shortly thereafter

this problem was because i wanted, NAY, NEEDED, to have "martha my dear" playing in the aftermath of that mary and david interaction. of course, time passes in that section break, but since "come and get it," which they talk about it, is a sirius song (though it could be a mary song), and i feel too strongly about needle drops to let that conversation go without a soundtrack. germaine even correctly guesses the white album is on because of mary:

Apparently Mary got fonder of the White Album the drunker she was.

...and of course the song itself makes me squeal with how very mary it is — not that it is something she would listen to, necessarily, or identify with (it would hold up too close of a mirror, ha), but it sounds like it could've been written about her ("hold your head up, you silly girl/look what you've done/when you find yourself in the thick of it/help yourself to a bit of what is all around you," which really sums up the entirety of her portree holiday, lol)

BUT! if "martha my dear" is to play here, then i have some Serious Chronology Concerns. i knew germeline had to kiss and jily had to dance and ideally in that order. but what would those scenes be soundtracked by!!!! i was limited to side two of the white album!!!

so i did the healthy thing and panic-listened to the white album. "don't pass me by" was, right away, an easy lock for the dance, because it's danceable, but not in a way that would've scared lily off. lyrically, it feels GREAT for jily in this moment, on the cusp of lily's realisation ("waiting for your knock, dear [...] i don't hear it, does it mean you don't love me anymore?" vs OF COURSE "don't pass me by [...] 'cause you know darling, i love only you"). i feel about "don't pass me by" the same way as NYT critic nik cohn: it's "straight ahead and clumsy and greatly enjoyable, backed by a beautiful hurdy-gurdy organ," which, if that isn't everything i wanted to evoke with the dance itself!!!!!!

ok we'll circle back to this, but onward with the musical discussion

thus i had four songs to choose from, between "martha my dear" and "don't pass me by," for the germeline scene — "piggies," "blackbird," "i'm so tired," and "rocky raccoon." the latter is on my sirius playlist, so auto-no; "piggies" is, well, like that, so also a no. "blackbird" is a certified germaine classic that was written personally by paul mccartney for germaine, but it seemed too introspective for the moment. i don't think i'd ever listened to "i'm so tired" before this panicked searching, and honestly it must be some wild luck that it is. just SO RIGHT!!!! it's so lethargic and tortured and angsty and, well, a bit of a stoner song, so.... it's THERE

AND NOW for the dance! true story, i initially wanted jily to have a real conversation, after the party. i had the dance in there and then james would catch up with lily after to be like, "hey i was wrong actually, you should write to petunia." but then i realised i wanted james and sirius to have a conversation about the bike/money, and i wanted it to strike a different chord, tonally, than the jily conversation. then i realised it would be too much to have both and i'd need to condense that conversation into the dance. VERY nearly cut the dance in favour of the conversation but wow i am glad i didn't

The tinkling piano signalled the start of the next song; she extended a hand, very matter-of-factly, to James, "Come on, this is a good one."

not pictured: james having a fucking breakdown

obviously, i could have gone the route of a genuine dramatic dance, but as previously mentioned lily would have chickened out, and i wanted to have this be an experience she could look back on and pine about because of how fun it was and james totally doesn't like her back

Loath as she was to admit it, this most indelicate of waltzes suited the plodding chords of "Don't Pass Me By." And worst of all, once they had stopped stepping on each other's feet James started to sing, in the poorest possible Ringo imitation she had ever heard in her life.

by the way, attentive readers of blink three times will recall:

He finally starts to lead — thank goodness, because she’s not the one who was forced into formal dance lessons as a child...

so in 36, this is james being drunk, but it is also james being silly on purpose because not only is he JAMES and so he must take the mick, he also knows it will put lily at ease

okay, and this bit:

"Don't pass me by, don't make me cry, don't make me blue," they both shouted rather than sang, "'Cause you know darling—" Lily broke off, laughing, dimly aware that she had done so to avoid saying I love only you while staring right at him.

from the FIRST MOMENT i picked out "don't pass me by," i knew i knew I KNEW that lily would have thoughts about this line. at this point in the story if someone questioned her about it she would probably have a full-scale breakdown about her male friends vs her female friends ("but no... i suppose i wouldn't mind saying it to remus.... but that's different!" how is it different, lily? "it's different!")

anyway, the bottom line is she could NOT abide saying it. i enjoyed writing that because 1. same girl and 2. it felt like a nice bit of close foreshadowing for her realisation, which i knew was coming soon. so that's a really circular way of saying, i knew what it meant but ideally to readers it was just oh this will mean something far-off in the future!!! which is usually true for me but SURPRISE babey it was just two chapters away!!!

note btw that lily "falls for james"

Lily spun faster than she’d intended to. The room was a brief, kaleidoscope blur. Then there was James. “Jesus, Evans,” he said, steadying her as the next track began.

>:)

and after i thought tracklists would fuck me up, i turned them into my WEAPON!!

Huffing, she stepped out of his arms. (There were some songs you could sing along to with your mates, and “Why Don’t We Do It In The Road?” was not one of them.)

(so, you know, keep in mind that for the rest of this conversation, paul is in the background howling "no one will be watching us/why don't we do it in the road?")

also:

"...I’m not drinking tonight, but I’d better get the royal treatment after we win on Saturday."

and then what happened <3

wait jesus oh my god i really went hard on this huh

She only saw its result: the easy grin had given way to an expression so serious it was almost sweet.

LILY??????

and hey, remember when:

...because in chapter 26:

Dex’s measured opinions about the wizarding world seemed more the result of upbringing and inexperience than ill will, but Lily had not expected a radical change of heart.

...but then in 36:

He was right, damn it. And a part of her had known all along, had sought him out expressly so that he would say the opposite thing to her. He’d gone and proven her wrong. She broke the staring match first [...] “What brought on the change of heart?” “It’s a long story, and I expect it’ll have an unsatisfying end if I told it to you.” Lily scoffed, but James had on that maddening grin that meant he would not budge. “Oh, all right.” Softer, she added, “Thank you.” He began to back away, towards the bar. “It’s give and take, Evans.”

in conclusion, i never forget, besties

#i literally had to retype this entire fucking response #i hate tumblr #but anyway #be warned i talk about the beatles :/// in here #ask me #anon #director's cuts #36

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kuromichad · 4 years ago

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different subject that’s heavy on my mind rn but since i’m already being harsh let’s get into it. i wish it wasn’t automatically presumed to be some kind of truscum attitude when someone tries to express that different parts of The Trans Community have like, different needs and different risk levels and different experiences and that we have the ability to talk over each other, harm each other, etc... like when i put it that way people generally are like ‘of course that’s true!’ but is it ever really understood in practice? a number of people (not a large enough number, but still) are able to loosely understand ‘you can be trans and transphobic’ when it’s applied to the matter of transmisogyny but when a trans person tries to express distrust of or frustration with afab nb people due to how common it is that that category of person will, despite being trans/nb, espouse bioessentialist, anti-medical-transition, radfem-adjacent if not outright cryptoterf rhetoric, suddenly ‘trans people can be transphobic’ gets applied to... the person with a complaint about transphobia.

because he’s clearly an evil truscum man! regardless of if the person making the complaint is a trans man or trans woman, oops, lol. he’s a bad person who is attacking and invalidating and totally hatecriming the heckin’ valid, equally at-risk transgender identity of “an afab woman who isn’t a woman except when she pointedly categorizes themself as a woman because being afab makes them a woman who is ‘politically aligned’ with women but she’s not an icky unwoke cis woman because they don’t like being forced into womanhood although Really When You Think About It 🤔 all women are dysphoric because obviously the pathologized medical diagnosis of gender dysphoria in transgender people is something that equally applies to cis women just default existing under patriarchy 🤔, and no, equating these things totally does not imply anything reductive about or add a bizarre moral dimension to the idea of being transgender, whaaaaat, this woman who isn’t a woman doesn’t think there’s anything immoral or cowardly or misogynist or delusional about being transgender, they would never say that because THEY’RE transgender, except when she feels it’s important (constantly) to make clear that she’s Still A Woman Deep Down Inherently Despite Not Identifying As One, and none of this ever has any effect on how they treat the concept, socially and politically, of people who actually wholly identify with (and possibly medically transition to) a gender different from the one they were assigned at birth, be it ‘the opposite gender’ or abstaining from binary gender altogether or ‘politically aligning’ with the ‘opposite’ gender from their asab. never ever!”

and like maybe that sounds like a completely absurd and hateful strawman to you! but in that case you’re either like, lucky, or optimistic, or ignorant. i’m literally not looking at random nb people and declaring that in My Truscum Opinion they’re ‘really a woman’ just because they’re not medically transitioning or meeting some arbitrary standard of mine. i am looking at self-identified afab nb people, who most often use she/they because, y’know, words mean things, especially pronouns, so people who are willingly ‘aligned with womanhood’ typically intentionally use she/her (sorry that i guess that’s another truscum take now!!! that pronouns mean things!!! the bigender transmasc who deliberately uses exclusively he/him wants it to invoke a perception he’s comfortable with!), who actively say the things listed above (in a non-sarcastic manner).

like, the line between a person who says “i don’t claim to really not be my asab because i know no one would ever perceive me as anything else” because theyve internalized a defeatist attitude due to societal transphobia, and a person who says that because they... genuinely believe it’s impossible/ridiculous/an imposition to truly be transgender (in the traditional trans sense, beyond a vague nb disidentification with gender) and are actively contributing to the former person’s self loathing... is hard to define from a distance! i think plenty of people who are, in a sense, ‘tentative’ or like ‘playing close to home’ so to speak in their identity are ‘genuinely trans’ (whatever that may mean) and just going through a process. they might arrive at a different identity or might just eventually stop saying/believing defeatist stuff, who knows. but there are enough people saying it for the latter reason, or at least not caring if they sound that way, that it’s like, dangerous. it is actively incredibly harmful to other trans people. and it’s fucking ridiculous that it’s so difficult to criticize because you’ll always get the defense of “umm but i’m literally trans” and/or “well i’m just talking about ME, this doesn’t apply to other trans people” when it’s an attitude that very clearly seeps into their politics and the way they discuss gender.

because it’s just incredibly common for afab nb people (most typically those that go by she/they! since i’m aware that uh, i am also afab nb, but we clearly are extremely different, so that’s the best categorization i’ve got) to discuss gender in moralized terms, with the excuse of patriarchy/misogyny existing, which of course adds another difficult dimension to trying to criticize this because it gets the response of “don’t act like misandry is real” (it’s not, but being a dick still is) and “boohoo, let women complain about their oppressors” (this goes beyond ‘complaining’). a deliberate revocation of empathy/sympathy/compassion from men and projection of inherently malicious/brutish/cruel intent onto men (not solely in the justified generalizations ‘men suck/are dangerous’, but in specific interactions too) underpin a whole fucking lot of popular posts/discussions online, whether they’re political or casual/social, and it absolutely influences how people conceptualize and feel about transness.

because ‘maleness is evil’ is still shitty politics even when you’ve slightly reframed it from the terf ‘trans women are evil because they’re Really Men and can never escape being horrific soulless brutes just as women can never escape being fragile morally superior flowers’ to the tumblr shethey “trans women who are out to me/unclockable are tolerable i guess because they’re women and women are good; anyone i personally presume to be a cis man, though, is still automatically evil, and saying trans men are Just As Bad is progressive of me, and it’s totally unrelated and apolitical that i think we should expand the concept of afab lesbianism so broadly that you can now be basically indistinguishable from trans men on literally every single level except for a declaration of ‘but i would never claim to be a man because i’m secure in the Innate Womanhood of the body i was born into, even as i medically alter that body because it causes me great gendered discomfort.’ none of this at all indicates that i feel there’s an immense moral/political gap between being an afab nb lesbian vs a straight trans man! it says nothing at all about my concept of ‘maleness’ and there’s no way this rhetoric bleeds into my perception of trans women and no way loudly talking about all this could keep trans people around me self-loathing and closeted, because i’m Literally Trans and Not A Terf!”

again, if that sounds like a hateful strawman, sorry but it’s not. i guess i’m supposed to be like ‘all of the many people ive seen saying these shitty things is an evil outlier who Doesn’t Count, and it’s not fair to the broad identity of afab shethey to not believe that every person who doesn’t outright say terfy enough things is a perfectly earnest valid accepting trans person who’s beyond criticism’ but like. this cannot be about broad validation. this can’t be about discarding all the bad apples as not really part of the group. we can’t be walking on eggshells to coddle what are essentially, in the end, Cis Feelings, because in the best cases this kind of rhetoric comes from naive people who are early and uncertain in their gender journey or whatever and are in the process of unraveling internalized transphobia, and in the easily observable worst cases these people are very literally redefining shit so that ‘actually all afab women are trans, spiritually, all afabs have dysphoria, we are all Equally oppressed by Males uh i mean cis men <3’ because, let’s be honest, they know that the moment they call themselves trans they get to say whatever they want about gender no matter how harmful it is to the rest of us. and those ideas spread like wildfire through the afab shethey “woman that’s not a woman” community that frankly greatly outnumbers other types of trans people online, because many of those people just do not have the experiences that lead you to really understand this shit and have to push back against concepts of gender that actively harm you as a trans person.

like that’s all i want to be able to say, is Things Are Different For Different Groups. and a willful ignorance of these differences leads to bad rhetoric controlling the overall discourse which gets people hurt. and even when concepts arise from it that seem positive and helpful and inclusive, in practice or in origin those ideas can still be upholding shit that gets other people hurt. like, i don’t doubt that many people are very straightforwardly happy and comfortable with an identity like ‘afab nb lesbian on testosterone’ and it would be ridiculous and hypocritical for me, ‘afab nb who wants to pass as a guy so he can comfortably wear skirts again,’ to act like that’s something that can’t or shouldn’t exist. it’s not about the identity itself, it’s about the politics that are popular within its community, and how the use of identities as moral labels with like, fucking pokemon type interactions for oppression effectiveness which directly informs the moral correctness of your every opinion and your very existence, is a shitty practice that gets people hurt and leads us to revoke empathy from each other.

like. sorry this is all over the place and long and probably still sounds evil because i haven’t thought through and disclaimered every single statement. but i’m like exhausted from living with this self-conscious guilt that maybe i’ve turned into a horrible evil truscum misogynist etc etc due to feeling upset by this seemingly inescapable approach to gender in lgbt/online circles that like, actively harms me, because when i vent with my friends all the stuff i’ve tried to explain here gets condensed down to referencing ‘she/theys’ as a category and that feels mean and generalizing and i genuinely dislike generalizations but the dread i feel about that category gets proven right way too often. it’s just like. this is not truscum this is not misgendering this is not misogyny. this is not about me decreeing that all transmascs have to be manly enough or dysphoric enough and all nbs have to be neatly agender and androgynous or something, i’m especially not saying that nb gender isn’t real lmao or even that it’s automatically wrong to partially identify with your asab; this is not me saying you can only medically transition for specific traditional reasons or that you don’t get a say on anything if you aren’t medically transitioning for whatever reason, now or ever. i just. want to be allowed to be frank about how... when there’s different experiences in a community we should like. acknowledge those differences and be willing to say that sometimes people don’t know what they’re talking about or that what they’re saying is harmful. without the primary concern being whether people will feel invalidated by being told so. because these are like, real issues, that are more important than politely including everyone, because that method is just getting vulnerable people drowned out constantly.

#source on much of this: existing as a transmasc on tumblr for years and years.#i stopped identifying as any sort of 'woman-aligned' pretty much right before the ridiculous 'all afabs are dysphoric' stuff #but it sure did still make me hate myself and feel like a silly cowardly ugly little girl for wanting to transition!#and back when i WAS a she/they i definitely was falling for 'men are bad maleness is bad always inherently :)' rhetoric #not in the modern form outlined above but in the like. brainlessly parroted from 'baeddel tumblr' form #which was still like 'you can escape being a Bad Person by either becoming or admitting you are a girl :)'#and the only acknowledgment of trans men in this ideology was like. 'well i guess they feel like they have to do that :\'#'too bad for them. im not saying they shouldnt transition but you know. men suck though <3'#it was bad for me it was bad for other people so im saying from experience. Fucking cut it out! the end

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jawritter · 4 years ago

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You and Me...

Chapter 23 FINAL CHAPTER

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non con, male!rape, injury, violence, discription of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self harm, panick attackes, implied female non con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chatper Warnings*** Memory of flashback, panic attack, breif discription of panic attack. the feels, all the feels, some fluff in there too, the worst part of this chapter is the flashback, and maybe some language, I don’t want to give to much away lol.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: As always all mistakes are mine!, Please do not copy my work!! Feedback is gold! I hope you enjoy this one! (flashback is in italics). The is the final chapter, and man this was a journey for me, I hope you all enjoyed reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Summery: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter you course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getthing through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

Taking the last leg of your journey in one day, the two of you pulled into Seattle somewhere around 7pm, three days after the two of you had left Austin.

The night you had spent in Salt Lake City together had stretched into the early morning hours. You'd never felt so close to someone. So in love with someone.

You couldn't believe that soon enough you'd be Mrs. Ackles. It didn't seem real.

You watch through the windshield as your soon to be husband checked into the Shafer Baillie Mansion Bed and Breakfast. A beautiful bed and breakfast in Seattle, Washington. He'd planned this whole trip down to the last tinny little detail. Stopping at little stops along the way. All the time just spent getting to know each other. Getting closer than you'd ever been with each other.

He paid the young lady at the front desk area that they had set up for check-ins. Then came walking out of the building. He'd enjoyed himself these last three days. You could tell. He just seemed to be over the moon since you’d left Salt Lake City, but watching him walk out to the car tonight, you could tell he was tired.

"Everything okay babe?" you asked, opened your car door for you, and grabbed your bags from the trunk.

"Yeah, I'm just tired." he said, walking by you and pecking you on the cheek before you both head inside.

He did look tired, but you couldn't help but worry that the reason he was acting this way was because you were so close to Vancouver.

So close to doing what he feared doing the most.

He loved shooting Supernatural. Often he said he felt lost when it was over, like a part of him was missing. Still there were new fears for him as he made this journey. Things and triggers that he didn't have to fight before.

Getting into the room, and getting your thing settled. He turned and flopped himself down on the bed. Groaning a little when he was finally laying flat. Stretching his arms over his head. You sit down next to him and start rubbing his chest through his thin T-Shirt.

"You sure you okay babe?" you asked him, laying down next to him. Cuddling into his shoulder, and rubbing your hand over his chest.

"Yeah I'm okay, I just got a lot of memories that I'm fighting right now." he said, smiling at you a little. "I haven't been this close to Canada since I locked the door to my apartment, and headed back to Austin the day after we shot the last scene on Supernatural."

You wrapped your arms around him tighter, letting him relax into you.

"It was a part of my life that I thought was close. That I'd left behind me. Not that I'm not grateful, and glad for another opportunity to do this, I guess I'm just afraid of the outcome. I don't want the show to wash out like some of the other comeback shows have. I've invested too much time into this to watch it fail." He said, rolling over to his side so that he could play with your hair.

“You guys are going to be just fine, you don’t have anything to worry about.” you tell him, watching as his eyes became heavy while you carded your hand through his hair.

“Let’s just order some take out tonight, I’m exhausted.” he mumbled as his eyes closed, and his breathing became heavier.

You leaned down, and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Okay baby.”

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The next morning the two of you found yourself pulling into the parking lot of the Supernatural set. This is where he was going to be leaving the car that you two had driven up here to be auctioned off for charity.

Cliff had left a black SUV here for the two of you to use while you were here.

You only had to be in Canada a few days to look for, and sign some paperwork on an apartment that Jensen was looking into getting. His old apartment. So it shouldn’t be a problem.

"So, I take it we're flying home then?" You asked him as you both got into the SUV.

"Oh yeah. I don't think I'm that spunkie to make another three day drive back to Austin." Jensen said with a laugh before closing the door he looked around. There seemed to be no one else here.

Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel a moment, Jensen then got out of the car, and looked around while leaning on the door.

"What are you doing?" you asked him, opening your door, and watching him closely as he walked up to the gate. Pulling out the key card that Clif had given him to open the security gate again.

"Come on I wanna show you some things, from what they tell me, all the old sets are still standing." he said, eyes bright with mischief.

"Well wait for me!" you yell at him as you run after him into the set.

The two of you walked through different sets that were still standing. Even after all this time. Even though it had only been about a year and a half it was still a little creepy to you. It looked old and abandoned. Which didn’t help the creepy factor at all.

Jensen walked around with your hand in his, telling you different stories and memories from his time spent on the show.

"Our trailers used to be parked over there. That's where the makeup and wardrobe trailer was. That's where they usually had the food tent. That Wearhouse over there is where they kept the Impala's. Those I know they took when the show ended. There's no need to look there.” He said, walking around like he knew exactly where he was going. Just like it had all just shut down today. A far off look in his eyes as memories flooded their way though his mind.

Finally coming to a big mettle building he stopped, pulled out his keys again.

"This should be it." He said, trying different keys. You stood there in silence as he worked. A little nervous about what awaited you on the other side of the door. Finally you heard the lock click as he opened it for the first time in over a year.

The mettle door scraped the ground loudly as it opened with a loud creaking sound that seemed to echo throughout the entire lot. Turning on the light on the phone he looked in.

"Yep, this is it." He said, walking into a dark room only lit by his phone. There was red wallpaper, a fireplace, a desk, and an attached kitchen. Different things you couldn't see in the dark that he seemed to be able to make out easily.

"Jensen where is this supposed to be?" you asked him as he came back over to where you were standing.

"Bobby's old house. The living room and the kitchen. Man I spent a lot of time here." he said, looking around almost like he was going to cry. Reaching over standing in the middle of the mostly dark room Jensen reached his arms around your waist, and pulled you as close to him as he could.

"Thank you for coming to do this with me." he whispered into your ear as he held you. "I needed this. I needed to remember what it was like to be here. What it was like to do this again. I needed to remind myself how much I missed it." He said.

Turning you brought your lips up to meet his.

"I told you almost a year ago, no matter what happens. It's you and me remember?" you asked him. He kissed you passionately.

"Yeah.. You and me." he said, before leading you out of the building. Locking doors on his way as he made his way out to the car that was waiting for the two of you.

It'd been a long year. A lot of hardships, and recovery from things that should have never happened. This time you felt like the winds of change were blowing in the favor of the two of you. This was the beginning of something good. It had to be. You'd both been through too much to have something go south again. You were both do for some good karma.

Somethings people were just meant to do. Playing Dean Winchester, you felt, was just that for Jensen. It was what he was always meant to do from the very beginning.

----------------------------------------------------------

**Time jump seven years later**

Jensen's POV:

The stage lights were shining horribly bright in Dallas as Jensen and Jared tried to see the person standing off to the right side of the stage. It felt like they were miles away from the individual that was waiting to ask them a question.

"Hi!" Jared said. "I think there may be a person over here?"

The crowd chucked for a moment.

"What's your question?" Jensen said with a chuckle.

This never gets old. He could do it over and over again, it will always be his favorite thing to do. Getting to interact with his fans. Even though it could get a little stressful and tiresome at times, it was worth every hour of sleep missed.

"Hi! My question is for Jensen! You guys stopped filming the last season of Supernatural in its 20th season. These conventions are still going even though the new seasons have stopped. Did you guys see that coming, or was it something that came as a surprise to you?" she said.

She seemed older, and more confident than the fans that normally came to the microphone to ask them a question.

"No, we didn't see it coming. We thought well, the show is over, and the conventions will stop, but people just kept asking us to come, even offering to host these things in new cities. It's still growing even though we've finally put Sam and Dean to rest. This show is STILL impacting people's lives, and we couldn't be more blessed to have you guys. Without all of you these things wouldn't be happening, and wouldn't still be possible. So thank you." he said into the mic.

The crowd cheered as usual. More questions went through the mics. After all these years people were still coming up with good questions, which was impressive. When the show was over they were able to kind of give their own opinions so that put a new spin on things every year.

"Hi" Jared said, the girl that was standing on his side of the stage.

"Hi..." she fumbled nervously with her shirt. "My question is for Jensen," she stuttered into the mic.

"What is up with you getting all the questions today?!" Jared retorted into the mic. Jensen just smiled, and winked at the crowd.

"My home town dude, what did you expect."

A soft laugh went through the crowd.

"What's your question?" they said together, causing a laugh to erupt through the crowd again.

"Over the years you have become a large advocate for people who are recovering from violent tramas... You know... similar to what you went through.... How did you get to the place you could talk about that... and do it so in a way that it doesn't trigger you anymore?" she asked, looking at her feet more than she looked at him.

He knew immediately that she'd been through a similar thing. Her body language screamed it for her.

After all these years he'd learned the tale signs.

The way she avoided eye contact with anyone. The way she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, fidgeting, unable to stand still. Keeping an odd distance from all the other people that were standing around her.

He couldn't help the memories that flooded through his mind. All the milestones that he and y/n had made with each other's help. All the years that he had to struggle. Even though the attack was years behind him. The triggers that sometimes still came out of nowhere. The nightmares that haunted him for years before finally going away. For him though, his therapy had become helping other people that had gone through similar things.

One of the worst panic attacks he'd ever had was the first time Dean had to be tied to a chair by a monster they were hunting.

---------------------------------------------

"Babe, if you can't do this it's okay. Just tell the writers, and I'm sure they can work around it." y/n said, wrapping her arms around his shaking frame. He'd been up two days dreading this scene. He knew it would happen eventually. He knew he'd have to face this.

"No, I'm doing this. I'm tired of people treating me like I'm fragile and shit. I can do this. I just got to balls up and do it." he said, working himself up like a football player before a difficult play.

"Jensen, it's time." The props girl said, coming over to the side of the set where the two of you were standing.

Jensen walked over to the chair. He wondered for a moment if this is what people felt like walking up to the electric chair. Sitting down they started to put the ropes around his wrist. Immediately the flash backs started, but he fought against them. He was already starting to sweat. Pushing painful memories down he tried not to dwell on what felt so real going on in your mind.

Y/n was kneeling down in front of him, her hand on his knee.

"Please baby, don't do this. I can tell you're struggling already. Don't do this." you begged him. Jensen was determined though. He was going to get past this, he had too.

"No. No, I can do it." he said through gritted teeth.

The director yelled for everyone to clear the set. Y/n Leaned down, and kissed his cheek before turning to walk away. As soon as she left the shaking started to get worse, that tightening feeling in his chest becoming almost unbearable.

They yelled for quiet on the set. It was getting hard to breathe and the room around him seemed to be spinning, everything sounded distant in an uncomfortable way, and Jensen could have sworn his tongue was glued to the roof of his extremely dry mouth. J

ensen looked over to y/n and Jared who were standing on the other side of the directors chair. Watching with worried faces.

That's never happened with a panic attack before.

Normally he knew when they were starting, and was able to take control of them by now. Even though he knew this was nothing but a panic attack. It was threatening to overtake him quickly.

"Action!"

The monster who was supposed to be a werewolf walked over to him sensually, her long nails dragged across the table as Dean struggled with his restraints. She was going through her lines. Salturing over she ran her finger nails down Dean's chest, just like the script instructed her to do. His body jerked hard in response. It was getting hard to stay in the present. To stay focused.

She picked up the knife laying on the table next to him.

"I should gut you right here. Leave you scattered all over the room for your precious Sammy to find when he finally gets here. After what you did to my sister." She sneers in his face, and puts the knife up to his throat.

The room went black.

--------------------------------------------------

That was the worst flashback/ panic attack he'd ever had. It was so bad it triggered a seizure. It took weeks to recover from that one. He wasn't allowed to be tied to any more chairs.

Jensen felt Jared slap you on the shoulder and bring you back to the present. He was smiling at him reassuringly. Jensen looked over to the side of the stage that the family and friends usually sat at. You were sitting there smiling at him.

"It took me a long time to get to the point I could do this. I still have bad days. I still get triggers. Sometimes without warning. I had to learn the hard way that what happened to me does define me. I'm not a victim unless I chose to be. My biggest therapy was learning how to share what happened to me with others. To help others get through some of the same things that I went through. I'm not fully recovered even though it's been years. I take things one day at a time. I decided that Instead of letting what happened to me control my whole life. I was going to take control, and use it to help others. Now I've spoken everywhere from hospitals, to church youth groups and camps."

Jensen took a deep breath, and looked over at the poor girl standing there hanging on his every word.

"It's been hard. It's never been easy. I'll always have the scars from what was done to me. Even though you can't physically see any. Every day is a blessing to me. I'm thankful for every person that I can touch. If it helps someone else, it makes the struggle worth it. My best piece of advice I can give you is this. It's okay to have bad days, it's okay to feel like shit, it's okay to have days that you can't even look at yourself in the mirror, I know I have. It's all part of the process. Get support. Someone you trust that can help you, I know if I didn't have y/n...I wouldn't be here today. I probably would have succumbed to depression, and you guys would be leaving flowers at my grave site today."

The crowd cheered in response. The girl thanked him and walked back to her seat. He made a mental note to go have her brought back stage so that he could talk to her in private.

"Okay guys I'm getting the signal. We got time to take one more question." Jared said.

Jensen pointed at the girl that was standing off on the other side of the light. "Yes, what's your question."

Your POV:

You sat there watching your husband answer questions, and joke with his friend. It was down to the last question. It was a light question about taking selfies with Misha on the boat. Thank God.

Sure he'd gotten to where questions about what happened to him didn't bother him in the least, but you knew after a while it could be taxing on anyone to have to answer question after question on that subject matter, and you would be glad when this con was over, so that you could go home to Austin for a little while with your husband.

Finally everything was over and Jensen weaved his way over to you. Not bothering even trying to go backstage.

He walked up to you wrapping you in a hug.

"You did great babe." You tell him, and he smiled that smile that damn near knocks you off your feet every time.

"Are you okay? No sign that the baby is coming is there?" he asks, putting his hand on your swollen stomach.

"No. Still safe and sound in there." you tell him, pulling him in to kiss you before he's ushered away from you to the next photo opp.

You were so proud of that man.

You couldn't believe how far he's come since you met him. He was everything you ever wanted and more. You couldn't wait until your baby was born. Part of you hoped that the little boy looked just like his daddy.

Sure a baby at Jensen's age wasn't something that was planned, but life had plans you guys didn't know about, but welcomed when you found out you were going to have a baby. Deciding you would be surprised, and wait to find out the gender, much to the annoyance of Gen, and everyone else that was part of the SPN family.

Life finally was looking up for you guys. Even though Jensen had some bad days. He gets better and better every day.

Just like you had promised him in the beginning you were with him every step of the way.

The picture from your wedding that sat proudly on your mantel in your home had a wood burned carving in it that said. "You and Me."

A constant reminder that no matter what you faced. You'd get through it together.

"You and me. No matter what." you whisper, as your husband walked toward the young girl that was struggling with her question. Stopping the whole progress to the photo op room just because he wanted to talk to her.

He may not be perfect, but to you he was perfect in every way.

Life had changed a lot since you met Jensen all those years ago in that small studio in Austin, Texas.

Even though there were challenges you both had to face, and lessons that you had to learn most normal couples hopefully would never encounter. It didn't destroy you.

It made you stronger.

Yes, there are monsters out there. They walk among us every day. They hurt people, and they do things to people that are down right inhuman and cruel.

Yes, bad things happen to people that don't deserve it.

Living in fear is NOT an option.

Watching Jensen overcome what happened to him was one of the hardest things you ever had to do, hell it changed you both.

Spiritual, mentally, and physically, neither of you would ever be the same.

Now you watched him take what was done to hurt him, to tear him down completely, and build up others. Strangers. People that he owed nothing, but instead let LOVE win.

There's no other person you'd rather spend the rest of your life with, scars and all.

No matter what life throws your way, no matter what may happen tomorrow. You would get through it together.. Just like you always promised.

You and me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag List: @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler

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@fuzzycloudsz

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@vicmc624

@imaginationisgrowth

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@deans-baby-momma

@ricanqueen20

@supraveng

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@glamourghoul138

@winchestergirl82

@d-whinchestergirl87

@4fareader

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester dark fic #dark!fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean x you #dean x reader #spn fanfiction #spn dark fic #spn fanfic #jensen ackles #jawritter #you and me

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hallowxiu · 4 years ago

Text

You’re Hot

Pairing: Satan x gn!mc

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After your attempt with Lucifer, you decide to try your luck with pick up lines on the next brother in your sights… Satan.

A/N: I got this idea from prompt 340 from the account Creative Writing Prompts :)

Part 2 of the MC isn’t good at pick up lines series lol

part one

“Do ya really think this’ll work?” Mammon asks with a bored tone, the male picking at his nails as he sits on your bed while you pace back and forth in the middle of your room.

“Well, no, not really.” The two of you are having an emergency meeting, as you personally like to label it, after your failed attempt of using a pick up line on Lucifer. To say that Mammon laughed when you explained just how much you failed would be an understatement. You’re convinced he grew a set of abs with how much he enjoyed your misery. You won’t dwell on it though, no, this is a challenge that you’re set on winning. “But, I figured using pick up lines on Satan would be good practice.”

“Good practice for what, exactly?” Mammon asks with a raised eyebrow.

You stop your pacing and think, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. With a shrug of your shoulders, you look at Mammon with a smile. “I dunno.” Mammon stares at you blankly before sighing in defeat.

“Ya sure are weird.” He huffs and leans back on your bed to get comfortable. “Have ya thought of any pick up lines to use on him?”

“Nope.” You admit with a sheepish grin and he sighs again.

“Have ya even considered the type of pick up lines he’d like? Ya can’t just waltz up to him and expect him to like the shit ya tried on Lucifer.” You feel your eyebrow twitch at Mammon’s words. You hated it when he was right.

“Man, Lucifer didn’t even like the pick up line I tried on him!” Well, more like he didn’t understand the pick up line you tried on him. “And now I have to sit through a lecture of his later on the history of fallen angels. I just have to try and make sure I don’t end up running into the same issue with him, though Satan doesn’t really strike me as the lecture type.”

“I think Satan would rather drop dead than give ya a lecture if it’s not about a favorite book of his.” Mammon snorts before sitting back up; that man’s always restless. “That being said, ya should probably find out what type of pick up line would work best on him. Ya can’t use the same type for everyone. Ya gotta find one that matches his interests.”

“Since when were you so good with pick up lines?”

“Ya picked me, didn’t ya? Besides, I’ve spent time with Asmo. The man’s practically spewin’ out pick up lines on the daily.”

“Things that match Satan’s interests…” You tap your chin with your index finger. You sit yourself down on the floor, hands resting on your knees as you stare up at Mammon in thought.

“And what type of pick up lines are ya goin’ for? Are ya tryin’ to romance him? Or do ya just want to throw him for a loop?” You hadn’t thought of that either. Really, when did Mammon become so knowledgeable with this stuff? “Satan’s the type of guy where if ya bat your lashes at him, he’ll probably end up followin’ ya around all day like a lost puppy. Don’t wanna lead the guy on or anythin’.”

“You’re being significantly more helpful than you were earlier. If you had done this with Lucifer, I probably would be free of a lecture tonight.”

Mammon’s eye twitches as he glares down at you from his place on your bed. “Hey, keep that shit up and I’ll leave ya here on your own!”

“Yeah, yeah.” You wave him off with a disinterested sigh. You needed to make a list of things Satan likes, which shouldn’t be too hard. You jump back up to your feet, Mammon startling where he sits from the sudden burst of energy. You grab a notebook from your desk, flipping to an empty page and grab a marker. After a minute or two of you quietly scribbling things down, you show off your list to Mammon, similar to a proud child showing their parents a drawing they made.

“Cats...books...uh,” his eyebrows furrow as he looks at the list closer, “did ya actually write ‘smart things’?” You let out a sheepish chuckle as you scratch at the back of your neck. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve been hanging out with you too much. I’m losing brain cells by the minute; maybe I should charge you a fee for killing so many off.”

Mammon shoots you a scandalized look before scoffing loudly, “ya were stupid before ya arrived to the Devildom! Don’t act like this is on me.” Before you can counter his attack, Mammon begins to speak again. “Satan isn’t the type who would like pick up lines about books. I also don’t think he’d appreciate cat ones either; they seem a little too cheesy for him.” You take his words into consideration before turning the list over in your hands and scribbling the first two options off the list. “So that just leaves us with…” Another sigh escapes Mammon from where he sits. “And what on earth does that possibly suggest?”

“I don’t know!” You let out a flustered shout as you squirm under his gaze. “Just smart things! Things smart people would enjoy! Physics? Science? Wait-- physics and science are the same thing, right? Oh god, what are smart things? Frogs?”

“Frogs?”

“It’s the first thing that came to my mind, don’t judge me!” You’re a little too flustered now.

“He likes politics. Why don’t ya look up pick up lines on politics? Maybe there’s some out there on the internet; some weirdo has got to like them.” He comments while digging his D.D.D out of his pocket. Within a few seconds there’s a frown on his face. “There aren’t many… and the ones that I found-- well, they’re fuckin’ awful.” Just before you can both give up and admit defeat, an excited gasp leaves Mammon’s mouth and his phone screen is immediately shoved in your face. “What about this one?”

You move your face back just enough so you could actually read the words on his screen. A grin forms on your lips when you read it over once. “This is perfect! He’ll be swooning, I just know it.”

“He’ll probably be impressed too that ya know so much about global warmin’ and what not. We really outdid ourselves with this one.” There’s a smug smile on his face that’s nearly identical to yours. “So, what are we doin’ wastin’ time here? Stop sittin’ around and find Satan!” You want to argue that Mammon’s the one sitting around, but you decide to let it go just this once.

❀❀❀❀

“Target sighted.” You find yourself reporting to Mammon via an old walkie-talkie. It wasn’t your idea, and you didn’t know why you couldn’t just text Mammon yourself, but the white haired demon insisted that this would be a more convenient means of communication. You didn’t even know that Mammon had these hidden around in his room, but you guess you shouldn’t be too surprised. With the antics Mammon’s always up to, you probably didn’t want to know why he had these in the first place.

“Awesome. Where’s he at?” Mammon’s voice, accompanied with static, rings through the speaker.

“The library; where else?”

“Fair enough. Alright then, go make your move. Wait,” he quickly cuts himself off and for a second you’re worried that Lucifer somehow found out about this, “do ya remember the line?” You breathe out a sigh of relief before rolling your eyes while turning the volume down. You’ll be amazed if Satan didn’t already know you were lingering outside the library with how loud Mammon is.

“Of course I remember the line. It’s just a sentence.”

“Alright, alright. Jeesh, I’m just tryin’ to help; sue a demon for tryin’.” Just before you can switch off your walkie-talkie, you hear the static pick up again with your name being called. “Wait, leave it on. I wanna hear how it goes.”

You debate for a moment, you could easily leave it off and tell him that you turned it off long before he asked for you to leave it on. You sigh though, already knowing that he wouldn’t buy it. “Fine, but you better not make a single peep, Mammon.” With him confirming to stay silent, you turn the volume nearly to zero before stuffing it in your back pocket. Clearing your throat once, you knock on the library door before pushing it open. “Satan?” You call out, your eyes scanning the room for the familiar blond.

“Over here.” His voice calls from the back of the room. As you approach the fourth oldest, you smile to yourself when seeing him surrounded by a pile of books on the library couch.

“Keeping yourself entertained?” You ask gingerly as you peer over the pile. “Have you been in here all day?”

“Nearly.” He responds, barely looking up from the book that held his attention from his current stretched out position. He reminds you of a cat with the way he’s laying around. You look down to see what he’s reading, a smirk forming on your lips when seeing the title. “You’re reading a book about global warming?” Sometimes you’re amazed with how well the universe lines things up for you.

“Mhm.” He responds lazily. “It’s a topic I’m interested in. I like learning about problems in the human realm and how they react to them. Who would’ve thought that the issue of global warming would be such a controversy there?” He’s sitting up now, though he’s still reading from his book. You wonder how he can pay attention to you while also paying attention to the book he’s reading.

“What do you mean?”

He moves over so that you can sit next to him, an eyebrow raising on his expression. “Well, both the Celestial Realm and the Devildom know about global warming, and the cause is also extremely obvious to us. It’s both humorous and disappointing that the humans don’t understand what’s causing it, and it’s even more mind blowing that some of them believe that it’s a made up concept. If anything, I look into these types of topics simply so I can see the perspective of humans.” You can’t believe how well Satan’s setting you up for your pick up line. Maybe this would actually work out in your favor for once.

“I know the cause of global warming.” You announce a little too proud.

“Oh?” There’s a look of amusement on Satan’s face as he places his book down beside him, giving you his full attention. “Do tell. I’d love to hear your perspective, this could help me further understand your species and--”

“You must be the reason for global warming because you’re so hot.”

Full silence. You can’t even hear the faint static of your walkie-talkie, and you think Satan might’ve stopped breathing. Maybe you should say something? Did he take offense to that? If you listen closer to the silence, you might hear Mammon laughing at you from somewhere in the house. “Ah, well, I suppose I did want to learn more about the human perspective…” He lets out a disappointed sigh before forcing a smile onto his face. This was too much to bear, you think dying in a hole somewhere would be a more pleasing option.

“Y-You know what? I think I hear Lucifer calling for me. Probably failed another test or something, I should go see what he wants.” You’re quick to excuse yourself as you scramble off the couch with a red face.

“Oh? But I don’t hear anything.” He says with a slight frown. “While I am flattered, actually, it’s primarily because of too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere.” His eyes never leave you as you awkwardly try to step over one of the piles of books, instead tripping over your own feet and knocking the stack over. You didn’t want to sit for a lecture; you should have never used a “smart things” pick up line when you still had Lucifer’s lecture on fallen angels to listen to.

“Really?” You ask absentmindedly as you clumsily try to stack the books back on top one another. “I didn’t know that.” You need to get out of here, and fast. You could tell Satan was about to go on an educational lecture and you only had seconds to flee. Suddenly, before you can dart past the now fixed books, a hand with a strong grip wraps around your wrist.

“Tell me,” he speaks your name with an eerily serene smile on his face, “have you ever heard of a carbon footprint?”

#shall we date obey me #obey me #satan #satan shall we date #satan obey me #satan x mc #satan x reader #satan one shot #obey me one shot #shall we date one shot #satan imagine #drabbles #obey me drabble #satan drabble #pick up lines #it's weird writing these tags lol

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kaetastic · 4 years ago

Text

No Longer A Secret

pairing: Maxwell Lord x F!CEO!Reader

summary: The rivalry between Chimtech Consortium and Techlite Coterie was no joke. The electrifying glow around the two CEOs of the company had been more than prominent whenever the two are in the same room. People could just feel it. There’s just one rule, whatever happens in private- stays in private. They knew it would’ve been broken sooner or later.

word count: 2.6k

warning: smut, language, dirty talking, jealous!maxwell, friends (?) with benefits, rough sex ??, choking

note: my first maxwell lord AND (?) pedro pascal fanfiction! yay! i’m so excited, i’ve been enticed by his wonderful acting that made me love all of his characters 🥰- techlite is an actual company but that was the name that i could come up with at the top of my head lol. tagging @storiesofthefandomlovers because guess who had a doubt they couldn’t find answers from google? Me! (just a reminder that we still have yet to see Max’s true personality- so :))

Glowing of red rays splayed across the street of the boisterous city. Despite the growing intensity of the vibrant red, there were other territories who decided to claim part of the land as their own. Shades of grey sprinkled over the road as blocks of cars swirl in organized strings. Various signs were hung up, some larger than the other; however, even though the size difference was quite prominent, it seemed it had not done its specified job. The expectations of greater, flashier, eye-catching signs to power over the rest had been over the market’s roof. It did nothing as the pedestrians would graze their eyes over the block letters in yellow or barely readable cursive blue, before continuing their path.

There was such a gorgeous scene set up right outside the office window, a pro the male CEO had liked. It almost made him feel as if he had the whole view over a chunk of the city. Conquering. However, as time went by- it was nothing but just a passing routine of his day. Despite the great view the city offered, there was nothing else beautiful than the staggering moans inside the closed-off grand office.

“Fuck! Max...” The shrill escaped her throat in a quivering line as her legs tingled from the thrusting of his hips and the piercing of his fingers into her thigh. The combination that he always liked to mix-and-match would always get her to jump in shock. His eyes shot up, the sight of her head thrown back, hairs angled up in peculiar angles from the excessive rubbing against the wooden table had only caused him to double the filthy thought that had already tinted his mind.

Not to forget her fingers weaving through her locks as if to grip herself into reality when he had snapped his hips. She had already tried several objects that were available on the desk to hold her steady. Except, most of them had been thrown onto the ground, either from her pushing it off the surface, or it was during the commencement of the meeting. Y/N’s lips were gaped open, a relief sigh escaping her lips once his fingers cladded around her throat as if she wore a choker.

“Don’t fucking call me Max.” He growled out, sending shivering vibrations into the warmth between her legs. Despite the enticing sensation on his pelvis slapping into her, Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his infamous attitude. The attitude that claimed of his whiny, brat-like tone. There had been flying rumours behind his back, the words on a creaking wagon with every step he took. They claimed that behind the fake grinning facade of a mask he wore, he was only a smug man. And Y/N, well... she could confirm as their inconsistent, abrupt meetings had proven more evidence than she would need. It was never like that at the start.

In the beginning, the two could barely stand in each other’s peripheral, leading to a very immense, awkward distance between the two CEOs of the dominating companies of the market. Even for other business-related people in the same room as them could see the string that wrapped around their heads did not bend or fold, for it kept a constant distance between the two. As if something would’ve gone off if they had opposed the rules. Then, everything had flipped around. Y/N could barely remember how, but it was something on the lines of alcohols, and running into each other at midnight. Pushing their secret meetings down a hole, they had tried their absolute best to keep their relationship a secret. Although, that was a challenge for the two when they found a narrow spot in the janitor’s room during a gala. She didn’t know how she had managed to drag Maxwell into that one.

“Oh! Fuck,” Y/N moaned out when she felt his other hand crept up her thighs to draw circles on her clit, suddenly pressing the bundle of nerves without a warning. “Right there!” With her hand over his circling ones, she gazed deeply into his eyes, even though there had been a few droplets of tears blurring her sight that were ready to be set free in a blink. “I’m close.”

He nodded, chest heaving at the most strenuous activity he had done for the day. Maxwell watched her unoccupied hands run across his mess of a table, her grip only managing to grasp onto the edge of the freezing wooden table. He let out a chuckle, “Yeah? Fucking come for me. Yeah, just like that... fuck, on my dick, yeah.”

Glazing the sheet of protection was the glistening liquid that oozed out of the woman and onto the man. With eyes rolled to the back of her heads, her orbs settled onto the figure who beamed at his shaft in fascination, “Fuck, look at that,” Maxwell sniggered, his fingers wrapping around his still erected cock. A staggering sigh caressed into the air, his fingers cladded with her juices. Their eyes met, unseen yet shuddering shivers of electricity clambered down their spine, Maxwell quirked his eyebrows at her perched up elbows. “Lay down, baby, I’m not done yet.”

“Are you going to the gala?” Y/N inquired as she sauntered across the office for her clothing, skin still bare and exposed to the air that was now frigid. There was not even a second of coldness when she was thrown onto the table with Maxwell inside her. All the warmth the two had generated together had evaporated in thin air. The male CEO had already yanked up his pants, the trousers that had been coiled to rest around his ankles during the strenuous activity were now buttoned up once again. His eyes lingered on her naked figure, orbs taking in the glowing sight. The warm rays of the afternoon smeared along the canvas of her.

Maxwell sniggered, head shaking in amusement, “I just made you come three times, and the first thing you ask me is if I’m going to the gala?” His fingers slipped the leather belt that sat on the corner of his wooden table into the slits. Arms resting onto the cushion of his chair, he gazed upon the sinful sight. The thoughts that had sparked the meeting swerved into his head.

“Well? Are you?” Y/N quirked her eyebrows, finally clipping on her bra. The nearly shredded looking dress in her grasp, looking as helpless as it could be. The results of hasty hands.

“I’d rather stay at home, and get ruined there.” Y/N let out a chuckle, her arms slipping into the sleeves. While her body had now been covered by the previous dress that had been yanked off of her (nearly ripped into two fabrics by Maxwell’s force), Maxwell didn’t bother to button up his dress shirt. The male CEO had poured himself whiskey in the rock glass, tongue already coated by the day’s delicacies.

“I’m going, dragged once again to these stupid meetups. Always end up talking about what we’re going to eat for breakfast or shit.” Despite her mumbling the last sentence under her breath, Maxwell had heard it clearly. Amused, he chuckled.

“Who’re you going with?”

“Not sure yet. Heard that Michael might be asking me.” With that, Maxwell’s smile was wiped off clean from his face. The crescent frown he wore had not matched the slightly curling of Y/N’s lips.

“Michael? Michael from Kingsley Steel?” If his mood had not declined down enough, the nod from the woman had been the reason it passed the horizontal line of zero.

Creasing down her folding dress that seemed to find comfort in brushing against each other like an accordion, Y/N swiftly swept her foot inside her heels, “If you’re ever need of a gal, I’m sure I can hand a list of those who could tolerate you, Maxie. Not promising there would be a name!”

“Don’t call me that!” The male CEO shot up from his chair, the glass still in his hand.

Giggling while she sauntered towards the door, she threw a glance over her shoulder, waving at the man, “Thank you for the delighting meeting, once again, Maxie.”

Maxwell huffed, planting himself back into the warm seat, his palm running to rub his face. This was the situation he got stuck in. How does he flee from it?

Gold engulfed the room. Well, that was all he could see with his limited peripheral. Obnoxious sparkle and twinkles of the warm glow from the light bulbs were angled to bounce off the draping gems. Maxwell sneered, although his expression was covered when he took a sip of the champagne. If he had to breathe one more second in the room, he would throw himself out of the window. Or, if he had been slightly daring with alcohol in his system, he would just throw himself onto the tall tower of gingerly arranged champagne glasses. There had been too many- countless parties thrown at the same party hall, it was starting to get onto his nerves. Maxwell was about to lose it. There had been good memories and without a doubt, bad, but all the man wanted to do was just ram a wrecking ball.

It was quite rare to see the owner of the Chimtech Consortium alone, lingering in a pack of one. Especially without a date. No one to accompany him. Maxwell sometimes liked it that way. Sure, it could’ve started some burning rumours, but the man has had enough of the business people who went on and on about this and that. The recent pair he had chatted with had gone on and on about their branch they were opening down south. Maxwell was so close to smashing his cup against their heads.

In the midst of judging people with scurrying, hawk-eyes, Maxwell was pulled to a screeching halt. A sight that caused his blood vessels to pump in a furious speed. The pace sent rapid electric currents to zap around the muscles of his fingers. When he realized that he had been suffocating the neck of the glass, he let out an exasperated huff. He didn’t bother the inconvenient place he had kept the glass, knowing someone who was paid to do the job would clean so.

A large grin was plastered on Y/N’s lips, almost as if it was wipe-less. Maxwell sniggered, eyes nearly rolling at the sight of the fake facade she was performing. There had never been a moment a single muscle on her lips faltered. Her cheeks must fucking hurt. He couldn’t help but find narrating her thoughts to be amusing. Although he liked jabbing at the mask she paraded around under the grand chandelier, there had been something more infuriating. The arm that subtly rested behind her back. Oh, how bad he wanted to smash his fists on that brunet- Michael. There had been so many things parallel between the two male. Michael was young. Maxwell couldn’t deny that he was ageing, more prominently.

There had been other points he could consider, but that would only make Michael look less than what he was. Indeed, Maxwell had just snipped his train of thought before the list could even continue. The CEO knew he had everything over Michael. Like the success of the passed-down company was a starter, although, the passed-down part had sounded a bit less... threatening. Even the name ‘Michael’ sounded so bitter, like an overcooked line of meat on a steak. Maxwell reminded himself to make sure there were no Michaels running around his office. It would only bring up memories he didn’t want to remember.

Maxwell pondered if she could feel his eyes on her. Usually, she would’ve noticed. Their discreet eyes meeting across the whole room could never be hindered. The only reason being whatever they participated behind the walls could not just be dusted over with a layer of padded dirt. Unfortunately for him, Y/N hadn’t bothered to pull away from the conversation.

Maxwell barely had time to process the breeze swerving beside his body. Maybe it had been the disconnection between his brain and the muscles of his legs because he was already midway approaching the woman. He didn’t bother to stop, “Mr Harris! It’s so great to see you here, Michael, Y/N.”

The smile he had claimed to be wipe-less vanished from her face. Just a stoic expression remained. Even though the coverage, Maxwell knew there were a lot more going on behind the mask she yanked up. It could be endless- breaking the one rule (the only Maxwell had decided to prioritize and bothered to remember) they had or to why he had interrupted a well-flowing conversation, “Maxwell, I did not expect you to be here, with you know, your new launch and all.”

Feigning a burst of humoured laughter, Maxwell swatted his hands, “There’s always time for partying.” The eldest man of the four cackled, lungs nearly squeezed out of his ancient chest. The only reaction from the group aside Michael’s pathetic, much more, died-down laugh.

“There always is, you must enjoy your youth, or else you’ll end up like an old clump, like me.” Michael shook his head, a genuine smile plastered on his face.

“You’re not old, Mr Harris.”

“Anybody who is called with a ‘Mr’ behind their name is considered old, Michael.” Y/N chuckled.

A second of silence seeped through the bodies, slithering up their spines as they soon lost themselves in the body of water they call thoughts. Something that shouldn’t ever happen. While Michael ran his fingers on the rim of his glass, Maxwell could practically hear the train of thoughts in his mind. The imagination of the boy’s fingers running on the bare body of the woman who remained at the peculiar shape of figures played in his tainted head. Maxwell had seen and he had drum his fingers on every inch of Y/N’s skin. Michael would not be able to do that... or see it. Michael was just a boy. Maxwell was a man.

The off-toned moaning in his head echoed of Michael’s name. It would never happen. Plus, it wasn’t how she would moan. Maxwell could feel his eyes roll at the teenager’s thoughts (Michael was in his mid-twenties, something Maxwell did not care to acknowledge). Y/N’s and Maxwell’s eyes met, her furrowed eyebrows jabbed at him. They had never been this close in the public, always keeping a safe distance. Now, it felt as if it was only her who had remembered the ground rules. What was he trying to do?

“Uhm, I’ve got to go.” Neck zapping in a fluid movement, almost as if possessed, Michael’s body swiftly turned away from the group. The warmth of his arm around her waist leaving a spot of a cold kiss.

Y/N pulled away from her cup, “Where are you going?” She had been too late. Michael had already swum through the crowds of known figures who had hefty-weighed price tags. Red crept up her neck. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. Even though she could not see those who were ogling their eyes for the next upcoming rumours of the woman who had been left by her date, she knew something would be the talk of the next day. And that frustrated her.

“Well, that leaves you with me, baby girl.” With a nod at the astounded Mr Harris, Maxwell’s fingers clasped around Y/N’s wrist. Mouth gaped open, she could see the blurred out walls of shocked guests. Her leg was moving, feet shuffling against the red carpet, but it felt as if the scenery around her was the one to shift. The only thing her eyes had focused on was the back of Maxwell’s creaseless suit and his sleeked back hair. Soon, she was met with the dark canvas of twinkling stars, overlapped by flashing of cameras. It was no longer ‘whatever happens in private- stays in private.’

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord oneshot #maxwell lord imagine #maxwell lord oneshots #maxwell lord imagines #maxwell lord fanfic #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord ff #wonder woman 1984 #wonder woman 1984 oneshot #pedro pascal #maxwell lord smut

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runenc03 · 4 years ago

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Til the light goes out (and after) - part 1

Writing date: I started in October ‘20, got scared by the amount of personal issues I put into “the reader” and procrastinated. I eventually finished in January ‘21, lol.

Genre: Angst, I guess? But not too badly, it’s fine.

Warnings: Insecurity (to everyone reading this, you are worthy!!)

Word count: 3.6k words

---------------------------------------------

"I remember when I reached the age of 25 and I had this jarring quarter-life crisis. I felt like I wasn't at all where I wanted to be: I wanted to be deeply in love and almost married to my soulmate. (...) I also wanted to be a publishing author. Yet I was single, and had never put a book together, even after writing hundreds of poems, journal entries, and essays in my life. I felt like I was just wasting my time, and that felt terrifying. That was three years ago. I look back at that time in my early to mid twenties so differently now. I see many beautiful poems written. Deep conversations with cherished friends. Night walks, early morning walks. Dinners with my family and birthdays, going around the table saying what we love about each other. (...) None of it was wasted. It was beautiful, and the life I had lived was so meaningful and precious. I wish I could go back, and tell myself that, so the younger me could appreciate each moment, rather than comparing where she was to where she wanted to be."

~Katherine Cimorelli Straneva

-----------------------------♡--------------------------

"I think Miss Swann over there should have the role."

Your hands stopped their movements to free you from your pirate costume, and you looked up. Your entire group of colleagues was staring at you, expectantly.

You see, you worked at a theme park, and it was just about the most amazing job ever. Every holiday period, it opened its gates, ready to shower people of all ages in everything magical. You were part of the actors crew, which basically meant that you acted out entire stories at fixed intervals and filled the rest of your time with walking around the theme park in costumes, doing small acts on your way. Often you ended up improvising, dancing with your guests, and of course posing for pictures. If you could, you would live in the theme park. Really, there was just something so entrancing about the atmosphere there, the music coming out of the lanterns beside all the roads, the roller coasters, the beautifully decorated buildings. A big part of the magic was because of the work you and your crew put into your characters and its stories though, you shouldn't underestimate that, which was exactly the reason you weren't too keen on taking the lead role in your next story. The pressure to create the biggest part of the magic was something you didn't know you could handle.

"I'm...not too sure about that. Ariel always plays the lead role, why shouldn't she now? I've never even done a lead role."

'Ariel' was one of your colleagues you were probably the closest with. She was funny, kind, and seemingly good at everything she did, acting included. Her real name wasn't Ariel, but you never called each other by your real names. It was like a tradition within your crew to call everyone by the name of the character they were currently playing. Seeing as she had had the lead role in your newest play, a crossover between Pirates of the Caribbean and The Little Mermaid, her name had been Ariel for the past two weeks, and yours had been Elizabeth.

Your friend wriggled herself out of her tail, her eyes still on you. A smirk was playing around her mouth, and your stomach gave a swirl. She had actually meant it when she proposed to give you the lead role.

"Because, dear Elizabeth, you wrote the play, and you did so beautifully! Your talent is ridiculous, and I think the entire thing is going to come across as much more honest if you play the biggest part in your own story. Isn't that logical?"

The other members of your crew nodded in agreement, and while you couldn't help but smile at their faith in you, the nerves in your stomach grew. You started to untie the laces of your pirate boots as you voiced your concerns.

"I'm not too sure about that. It's a love story, remember?"

The grinning on Ariel's face turned into a warm smile, but her eyes showed determination, and at that point you knew that you had lost this particular battle.

"I remember, and I also remember that you're the biggest romantic out of all of us. Come on, we all know you're going to be fantastic."

Another colleague of yours spoke up, telling you that he'd been in awe of the script you'd written, and another joined, claiming she'd even cried a little at the end. Your doubts slowly folded themselves back up again.

"The story belongs in this place, just like the lead role belongs to you, Elizabeth."

The words were spoken by the most timid guy in your crew. He never talked in your plays but provided the music in them, and even though he was terrific at adding that extra touch of magic to your stories, he never contributed to conversations about their content. You thought he just didn't really mind, as long as he could play his music. If he was willing to speak out loud about it, it must mean you really were meant to follow your crew's judgement.

You smiled, a blush blossoming on your cheeks, and you knew your eyes twinkled when you finally gave in.

"I'll do it."

_______________________________________

"Hey!"

You plopped down next to the music guy in your group, feeling extra cheerful today. You would start rehearsing the piece you had written today, and now that you'd been able to get over the initial insecurities you'd had, you felt really excited about this first rehearsal.

"Good morning, Jade."

You grinned at your brand new name, rummaging through your bag. Tossing aside a water bottle and some elastic bands, you found what you were looking for. Your eyes scanned over the words, making sure you had taken the right document out of the stack you had brought with you, before stretching out your arm in the direction of the music guy. He looked in your direction questioningly. Your grin turned into a warm, although somewhat insecure smile.

"If you're okay with it, your name is Sam from now on."

He read your script in silence, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Who says I can even act?"

"Who said I was able to play the lead role of my own story?"

He threw his head back in laughter, and you watched, surprised you were able to get such an exuberant reaction out of him.

Your alarm chose that exact moment to go off, the bright letters "START REHEARSAL" instantly reforming the knot in your stomach. You frowned at yourself. Weren't you over it by now? It was time to start the whole thing and you were still nervous, for God's sake.

"Hey, you'll be fine. Even better, you get to kiss the guy everyone wants to marry. You should relax more, maybe you can enjoy acting again then."

You tore your eyes away from your phone and onto Sam's face. His comment didn't help at all, and your face must have shown it, because his eyes went from warm to panicked, and your guilt punched the knot of nerves in your stomach. What a mess you'd made of all of this, already. You managed to send a tired smile in his direction, trying to salvage as much as you could from whatever it had been that had made him open up to you a bit.

"Thanks for trying to calm me, really it means a lot. I think I'll calm down once this rehearsal is over though. Are you ready? You're in the scene I want to start the rehearsal with."

He nodded again, awkwardly showing you the flute he was holding, and followed you to the middle of the room where you beckoned everyone to come join you so you could start.

Taking one last deep breath, you started.

"Hi everyone! As you know, we're starting our rehearsals for my story today. If everything went well, you've all received the script for the character you're playing. I actually wanted to start with one of the last scenes,..."

Everyone nodded at you encouragingly throughout your little speech, and as you realised that these were all your friends who genuinely cared about you, you felt the knot in your stomach slowly untie itself.

The first scene you rehearsed was actually the ultimate confrontation between the good and the bad in your story. Your friend Ariel, whose name was now Ruby, played the villain in your story, and you played Jade, the lead character. This scene basically consisted of the fight between Ruby and the main character's love interest, Dante. The story situated itself in the medieval times. Dante had come to Ruby's tower to rescue Jade, who he believed was kidnapped by Ruby, but upon arriving, he - and the park's visitors - would discover that Jade wasn't actually kidnapped and Ruby had made it all up. Then, Jade would realise everything just in time to go up to Ruby's tower as well and rescue Dante, instead of the other way around. What could you say? You'd always been a feminist at heart. Dante was played by a great friend of yours, and you'd actually written this piece thinking he could play the male love interest, while Ariel would play the female lead role, but things had, evidently, taken a turn. The two of them had been friends way longer than you'd been friends with any of them, and even though the three of you were really close, you couldn't help but marvel at the chemistry the two of them had, something you and Dante would very much lack, or at least that's what your insecurities made you believe.

However, you didn't want to rewrite the entire thing just so you wouldn't have to play each other's love interest, and you had showed the script, including the initial cast, to everyone anyway, so it wasn't really something you could get out of without a whole lot of awkwardness.

The rehearsal started off well enough. Ruby was, as you'd expected, really, a brilliant villain, and apart from some minor corrections from you, everyone executed the script exactly the way you had in mind. You were starting to believe in this.

That was, until the very end of the play, in which Jade and Dante would get all cute because of the whole we-just-survived-a-villain-attack-and-thought-we'd-lost-each-other situation. You thought you'd mentally prepared yourself, really, you had, but apparently it hadn't been enough. The awkward tension was palpable, your own movements, usually so fluent, were now stiff, your rigid body seemingly forgetting how your limbs worked. No one said anything about it, but you felt it and you know the others did too.

And you tried to pull out of that awkward moment, tried to chase your insecurities away, you really did, but they seemed to cling to you, and the longer it lasted, the worse your mood became. When you almost fell off of the stage because you'd instinctively set a step backwards when Dante had tried to pull you into his arms, you knew you couldn't continue like this.

Hastily, you grabbed your jacket, quickly telling everyone you would have a 15-minute break and that they'd done a good job, before hurriedly walking out of the building, and into the cold.

_______________________________________

The wind quickened your tears, and you angrily wiped them away before they could hit your neck, mad at yourself for allowing them to fall down. You knew you'd had to get back inside your rehearsal room eventually, and while everyone had a good image of what you were doing, you weren't looking forward to letting them see the evidence.

Most of all though, you felt vulnerable. Vulnerable because you had failed, and because everyone had witnessed you doing it. Vulnerable because your biggest insecurities had just come true.

"Hey, what is up with you?"

You looked up, watching as Ruby flopped herself down on the bench you were sitting on, turning herself so she was completely facing you. She wore an expression of confusion, and worry.

You let go of your eye contact, your eyes drilling holes in the soil beneath your feet. You owed her the truth. In fact, you owed your entire crew the truth. Being completely honest with yourself, you knew that was the only way this play would end up being a success. You took a deep breath.

"I'm just....not equipped to play Dante's love interest."

You couldn't look at her, too ashamed, but her voice conveyed honest surprise, which, in turn, made you surprised. Didn't she realise how obvious it all was?

"What are you talking about? You were fine until you had to reunite with Dante, and if you didn't like physical contact or if you were extremely hesitant for anything romantic, I'd agree with you and say you should probably focus on roles you are very good at, but you, you're a hopeless romantic at heart, and you like physical contact. Why is it so difficult then? I'm not making fun of you, I genuinely don't understand."

You scoffed, too caught up in your own head, annoyed at her lack of understanding.

"How can you not? I've never had a boyfriend, and that explains everything. Don't you see? It's not that I don't want to play a character that's in love, and I'm sure that if I managed to calm down I'd even enjoy it, but whenever I come close to Dante I feel like "forever single" is practically inked on my forehead."

You had, by now, managed to look at your friend, your annoyance chasing away a bit of the previous insecurity and shame. Her face morphed into a look of understanding, and you didn't know if that made you feel better of worse.

"I know it's a bit intimidating to play Dante's love interest, and I know that, like, everyone wants to date him, or at least gushes about how good-looking he is, but that doesn't mean that you can't play his love interest. Stop thinking you're too ugly to be around beautiful people."

If you hadn't been feeling so terrible, you might have literally facepalmed. Maybe you should've seen this coming, but Dante being known as the Adonis of your group really was the least of your worries.

"Wait...what? No, this has nothing to do with him being attractive, you know he and I are only friends. In fact, I think you would be great as his girlfriend, I would totally ship that. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that he's just a friend and it's not about playing his love interest, it's about playing someone's love interest in general. I just...what if it looks completely stupid? I know it looked stupid now. I can imagine all these cute things in my head, but then when I have to execute them, the only thing I can think about is that no one wants to do this with me in real life, and that just...I don't know. You all one by one find the love of your lives, or at least good partners you're happy and in love with, and it...it just makes me wonder if I'll ever be good enough to have that myself, as well."

"Oh, honey..."

You felt Ruby's arm wrap around you, her hand stroking your back, and you eyes filled themselves with tears again. She wasn't a physical person and therefore didn't like touching people, but she did now for you because she knew that you were. The tears started falling again.

"I mean, I knew you were ready to have a boyfriend, or like, to commit to someone and be in love with them, but I didn't know you were so insecure about not being in a relationship, and now I wish I'd realised that earlier. But you have to realise that while you're insecure now because you think no one is going to want you, you're going to be insecure about not deserving a boyfriend when you have one. Trust me, the insecurities don't go away, they just change. I guess what I'm trying to say is... don't wait for that moment that you're someone's girlfriend, the insecurities aren't going to magically disappear then. Now's the time to work on them. And, this shouldn't matter, but for the record: I fully believe that you are very worthy of being someone's girlfriend, and when the right person comes along, you'll give your all, because that's who you are, and it'll go a lot better than most of the relationships you wish to have yourself now. For now though, just have fun. You get to kiss Dante and make lots of bratty girls jealous!"

You chuckled at her attempt to cheer you up. You were really grateful for her. The two of you were complete opposites, and her radiance sometimes made you insecure, but right now, with her words, you believed yourself a worthy person again, and that meant more than you could express.

"That's what Sam said, too."

Ruby's eyebrows went up at lightning speed, her eyes wide.

"Wait, he talks? And he told you you'd be a good girlfriend?"

You rolled your eyes, but also noted how you had to fight the blush off of your cheeks.

"No, dummie, he told me I'd be able to kiss the guy - and I quote - everyone wants to marry. I guess he's not wrong, a lot of female visitors do seem to want to faint whenever he includes them in improvs."

Your friend chuckled, and, her laugh being so infectious, you chuckled along with her. Then, when you didn't expect it, she jumped off of the bench, beckoning you to follow her. As she entered the rehearsal room, she yelled that you'd come with her, and as the rest of the group started cheering, you realised that that had been a good choice.

_______________________________________

"Dante, hold on, I'm coming!"

A few of your younger spectators started whispering excitedly as you stepped into view, quickly climbing a long, round staircase to get to platform on which Dante and Ruby were battling. You were busy concentrating on tripping and falling off of the stairs. That had happened once during your rehearsals, and if you hadn't still been in the lower half of the stairs and if Sam hadn't discarded his flute to catch you, you probably wouldn't have been able to play Jade. While that scenario would've actually sounded appealing a few weeks ago, you had to admit now that you loved playing the lead role in this play.

You threw yourself in the battle, pulling just about the bluntest sword out of its holder around your waist, and clashing with Ruby's. Needless to say, Ruby was no match for you and Dante together, and with a dramatic last breath of air - and a smirk only you and Dante could see from so high up - she fell backwards, tumbling down. This part had actually taken quite some organisational talent. Right in front of the platform you were battling on, there was the staircase, while there was some kind of wall behind the platform. Ruby always fell down behind the wall, where multiple thick layers of soft material made her fall softly and unharmed. The visitors, however, only saw her tumbling down the platform, which made for a very dramatic effect. Of course, Ruby, out of all people, loved it the most.

While the enthusiastic applause intensified, you and Dante fell into each other's arms. You separated a bit, and patiently waited as Dante pulled a lock of your hair behind your ear, something that was in the script. Then, he leaned down slightly, pulling you in for a small, but cute kiss. This wasn't your first time enacting the play, and so you'd gotten used to kissing Dante, and even though you both really didn't have romantic feelings for each other and this was only just a play, you found that the enthusiasm during that kiss from both the kids and adults who were watching, had cured a lot of your insecurities over time.

Hand in hand, you walked down the stairs. Beneath you, the crowd started cheering again, and Dante squeezed your hand, smiling at you. You knew he was congratulating you for once again bringing the play to a successful end. Every time the two of you walked down those stairs, he did it, and every time, you were really grateful.

Once down, your entire crew formed a line, taking each others hands to make a collective bow. You were already holding Dante's, and reached with your other hand to Ruby, but to your surprise, Ruby completely dodged it and went to stand next to Dante on his other side. You were about to grin, your hopes at getting them together once more reviving, before Ruby looked at you and sent you a wink. You were puzzled for a second, until you felt your fingers being intertwined with someone else's, a warm, and, let's be honest, a bit of a clammy hand. Normally, your entire crew held hands with closer fingers, kind of a palm-to-palm thing, so this was a surprise. You were quick to turn your head, and looked straight into Sam's warm eyes. He flashed you a shy smile, and congratulated you on your performance. You smiled back, bowing down with the rest of your crew.

When you got home tonight, you wouldn't slip off your smile along with your costume, for you finally understood that you were just as worthy of a fairytale as all the princesses, goddesses and fairies you had played along the way.

#crushxreader #crush x reader #love #themepark #colleagues to lovers #crush #imagines #oneshots #acting #actor!reader #music #musician!crush #theatre #oneshot #xreader

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murasaki-murasame · 3 years ago

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Now that Regina and Basileus’ banners are done, here’s my part two on how my free summons have been going.

TL;DR: problematic anime boys got me acting unwise u_u

Firstly, for the Regina banner, I managed to get her on around the fourth free multi, and over the course of the banner I also got dupes of Hawk and Louise. I also got a platinum prize that gave me a sunlight stone, so that was nice.

Then on Basileus’ banner I got sent into a bit of a spiral because I quickly realized that I really wanted to get him [since I have a weakness for male wand units, and he just seems really good in general], but I only had like half a spark left after the whole Zethia/Bahamut banner, so I was wondering if I might end up having to whale if I couldn’t make myself skip this banner. Which lead me to double-checking my unread stories, and apparently I have over 150 adventurer stories, 70 dragon stories, and 30 castle stories that I haven’t read yet, so if I really wanted to, I could go through a lot of that and spark without whaling. Including the 40 sigils worth of diamantium I already had in my account.

I decided to just do a daily deal then and again on the final day of the banner so I could at least save myself some single tickets, and I immediately got Basileus on the daily deal I did on the second day, so here we are I guess, lmao.

I ended up not getting Sandalphon from the free summons, but even though she looks really good I can’t be bothered chasing after her specifically after getting so lucky with Basileus, especially since I also already have Gala Elly so it’d kinda sting to get dupes of her. At the very least I can dream summon Sandalphon later if I really need to.

And even though I was ready and willing to spark on this banner if I needed to, at this point I want to just quit while I’m ahead and make sure I have a safety net for the upcoming limited banner hell season, lol.

I have a feeling I might skip Halloween, but I might be really tempted by the November gala [+ Christmas], and I’d like to have a spark saved for New Years as well.

Anyway, I haven’t had much time to actually test him out yet, but Basileus does seem really strong. He seems to have good personal damage, but even though it’s not as high as other wind units like Gala Ranzal, it’s made up with by the fact that he has a huge amount of utility in his kit which matches up really nicely with endgame content. He has stormlash, high hit count [his ranged and sigil unleashed modes do like 35 hits per full combo, lol], spammable defense amp, both strength and defense debuffs, and dispel. He also has personal overdamage, but I think that probably doesn’t matter if you have any other source of overdamage in your team.

But in general he just has an extremely loaded kit, which also seems pretty much entirely immune to nihility, so he just seems like an extremely good unit who will probably stand the test of time.

His dual combat modes mechanic is probably his only weakness, since it divides up his utility, but that gets solved when he goes into sigil unleashed mode and he just switches into one mode that does everything. And with how his kit works, he only spends like two minutes in sigil locked mode anyway, and he gets it automatically unlocked in phase 2 Dominion fights. Either way I think it’s mostly just an issue in auto fights since in manual you can just move in and out of your two modes as you need, but it’s not a huge deal. I think his ranged mode is more valuable than his melee one, and it sounds like his AI defaults to that, so you’d still get a lot out of him.

He also kinda feels like he overlaps with Gala Notte a lot, since she also has stormlash, dispel, and high hit counts, but I don’t think it’d be that hard to just run them together. I think Notte could also be nice as a backline option for Basileus, since he has a really high hit count to make use of her shapeshift prep co-ability. Sorta like how people use Saiga as a dragon battery.

Since his defense amp is on his S1 and doesn’t have a cooldown, I think that you could probably maintain team defense amp levels with just him, but I’m curious to try him out with Yukata Lathna and see how easily they can build up defense amps. It’d at least be nice to make it easier to get the full effect of Lathna’s S2.

And on the note of amps, it’s kinda sad in a funny way to compare Basileus to Myriam. It feels like an unfair comparison to make, but they’re both 5* wind wands with spammable amps, and Myriam only came out like six months ago. But when you compare them to each other, you can really tell how Cygames was way too cautious and conservative with how they made the early amp users, because they didn’t want them to be overpowered, but they ended up just making them extremely weak and bare-bones, so now newer amp users like Basileus just have it as one aspect of a much more detailed kit. It’s also pretty telling that both of Myriam’s abilities only trigger if she has a team strength amp, but nothing in Basileus’ kit is locked behind achieving a team defense amp.

I don’t really have a lot to say about Sandalphon since I didn’t get her and I don’t plan on chasing her, but she does seem like she’s probably going to be the best water healer from now on. Hopefully since I have all of the other ones I can go without her for now.

I also don’t really have many thoughts on Regina, even though I got her and have used her a bit in the event raid. I don’t exactly plan on using her much in the long run, but that’s mostly just because I like Gala Mascula too much to kick him out, and it’d be a pain to try and run them together, lol. She might end up being really good in the Surtr fight, but right now her kit just feels kinda weird, and she’s lacking in utility that actually matters in current content. I’m glad we finally have a permanent 5-star water blade who’s better than Valerio though, lol.

So yeah, I’m glad I was able to get Basileus so early and quit while I’m ahead with this banner. Now I’m in a much better position going into the holiday season than I would have been otherwise. I dunno how much I care about Halloween Sylas and Dragonyule Nevin, but they might end up being strong enough that i’d want them anyway, and I’ll probably at least want the new zodiac units for my collection. We also might get Gala Nedrick in the next few months, not to mention the heavily implied Gala Archangels, so there’s that to prepare for as well.

Also, today we found out that we’re gonna get a wind focus banner between now and Halloween, along with a new type of platinum showcase that specifically gives you adventurers you don’t have yet, so that’s cool. Element focus banners are kinda meh, but at least it’s something that I won’t be tempted to spend resources on, and there’s still like five different wind 5-stars I don’t have yet that I’d like to get from it.

The platinum showcase is a lot more interesting, though. I hope we’re still going to also get a paid dream summon soon, but this is at least a way better deal than regular platinum showcases. I’ll probably end up going for this since I have enough diamantium to do it twice. I think I have like 28 non-limited 5-stars that I’m missing, so I’d have a relatively low chance of getting any specific ones, but there’s a fair few that I’d be happy to get.

Realistically I should wait until the last moment to do it in case I get any new 5-stars from the wind focus banner, but I’m going on a trip for a few days to get dental work around when this ends, so I might at least do it before that happens just to make sure I don’t miss out. But I might just end up doing it immediately tomorrow because I’m impatient, lol.

On a related note, I’m going to save my free dream summon from this event until all the free summons are over, but for now I’m planning to get Summer Verica from it. I’m not entirely sure who I’d get instead if I manage to get her from my free summons or the platinum showcase, though. Probably either Pinon or Nevin.

I guess there’s also the scratcher 5-star summon that I’ll get eventually, but that’ll probably just be a random dupe, lol.

#murasaki rambles #dragalia lost

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fonulyn · 3 years ago

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I saw someone the other day here on good ol' tungle complain (before the show came out, mind you) that Claire wasn't going to be in the show enough and wasn't gonna play an integral role, and like. I can understand why that thought is upsetting, bc the girl is a badass and deserves more screentime for sure, but like not only did they end up being wrong (our girl kicked ass, played a huge role in the plot, and was just generally amazing) but they had like, blamed Leon a little bit for it? As tho it was his fault the writers don't give three shits about the female protagonists in the franchise (who, if I remember correctly, only one of which gets an actual entire game to herself? The rest, to my knowledge, are POV swapping games, which are fine but like. Come on Capcom)??? It was v weird and caused me to unfollow them bc they were already disappointed by the show, they blamed Leon, and they acted like, surprised? I don't know about you, but I'm never surprised by franchises like this when they put one of their main female characters on/in the promotional to garner attention and then she's actually only in it for five seconds. That's just misogyny (which I'm not excusing or saying is okay, obvs, but don't push blame onto the other main character, just bc he's the main character? Leon didn't choose to push Claire out of the spotlight, and honestly I don't even think he did. Like he got more screentime then her, yeah, but I think this is as close as we were gonna get to a fair split amount of time between the two, with capcom's history of "women? What women? Oh you mean convenient plot devices?"), so don't hate on people who love Leon, and don't hate on the character himself. Like what the what? As a Leon lover (he is my favorite, I love him sm), I am pissed that we never get to see Claire in anything, that we hardly ever saw Jill after RE3, and that all female protags are secondary to their male counterparts. It's bullshit, frankly, but taking it out on other fans and the other characters in the franchise is. Not good, and will just isolate you further from the fandom. Don't know if this is a hot take or not lol and I'm not trying to like be mean or start a fight with anyone, I just needed to rant about this bc it was bothering me and I figured you would kinda get where I was coming from? Also I love your rants, you are v knowledgeable lol

okay so... i saw some of that going around too. and it doesn't really make sense to me for multiple reasons. first of all, some people already decided that ID would suck even before it came out, they decided Claire would get no screen time and decided they'd ruin her character and... all of that before they'd seen more than the trailers? and I just don't get it, why not give it a chance before judging it?

i do understand that people want Claire to have a big role and want her to get the chance to shine. i want that, too! she absolutely deserves that! and I get being scared of what would become of it! i was nervous beforehand that they'd take the characters (both of them) into a direction that I'd find disappointing. when I pressed play on the first episode I was terrified as much as excited, because there was no way of knowing before seeing it.

but i do think it's important to press play and watch for yourself before condemning the entire thing.

and as for blaming Leon for Claire allegedly not having a large enough part in it? it... makes zero sense. it's not like they're living breathing people who have an actual say in what happens? :'D overall I find it weird how readily people jump to attack other characters to defend their own favorites. I don't understand this whole shooting down others to lift your own fave. there are ways to appreciate a character without hating on everyone else.

(that is not to say you're not allowed to hate on characters! of course you can hate characters! but like. you don't need to hate whoever you deem a "rival" just because. it's not a competition.)

and yeah, there is a long history of misleading promotion where a character is advertised as a main character and then sidelined to only appear for a bit. and it was a possibility. but it didn't happen, and I for one am happy about it. (what I am disappointed in, is that they made it seem like Leon and Claire would work together, while they did that for like two and a half minutes. but well. can't win them all)

(tangentially, they did something a bit similar to Chris in re8 too, the promotions relied super heavily on him but from what i understood (without having actually played the game, so correct me if i'm wrong!) he was a playable character for a very small portion of the game. so. they used him and his fanbase for promotion a little misleadingly. so yeah it is a real concern that could've happened)

like you said, Leon might've gotten more screentime if you only count the minutes. but Claire was an integral part of the story, she was fighting for the things she believes in, she got to be fierce (that headbutt is like the highlight of the movie :'D) and it wouldn't have been the same without her.

yeah it is bullshit how Capcom just threw Jill aside, and are tragically underusing a lot of their female characters. and I'm not trying to excuse that. but I do think they have a general problem with forgetting all of their characters except for Chris and Leon, who have gotten to be in most things (even tho to be fair they're not getting a fully consistent storyline either but. they do get screentime?). they create the most wonderful characters and then forget all about them, and it sucks.

but that's a problem with the people who make these movies and games. not the characters in said movies and games. so taking your own disappointment out on other characters and their fans is just... counter productive at best. it just leads to anger and resentment and the absolutely pointless fandom wars no one benefits from. i, for one, am too old for that bullshit.

so yeah, I get what you're coming from. it is so frustrating to see the unfounded hate. and tbh I've seen Leon get quite a bit of it. but that just comes with the territory I guess. he is popular, and some people react badly to it. which doesn't make sense to me, personally, but hey it is what it is.

I know it's easier said than done, but try to focus on the good! we got new content, Leon and Claire both got to be important parts in the story, they both kicked ass and looked amazing doing it! for the most part they both felt very in character, and I have high hopes we might get more in the form of season 2! :3

also, I'm glad you're enjoying my ramblings :'D I have a lot of thoughts but I usually get carried away rambling and I'm never sure how much sense i make, lol.

#long post #anonymous #ask and i shall answer #re answers #fandom is such a tiring place sometimes

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liannyeong · 4 years ago

Text

Unfinished #2

Summary: A collection of unfinished fics. The main theme is inequality between the rich and poor, and gender stereotypes, though poorly challenged lol. Also, mechanic!Jaebeom hehe

Word count: 3109

Pairing: Jaebeom X OC

Warning(s): Angst

A/N: I had this idea back in 2017, inspired by the song ‘Uptown girl’.

"Hey, Jaebum! Come over here for a minute!"

Jaebum sighs. He stares at the engine longingly, as if it could help him think of the solution to the car. He ran several tests on the vehicle, yet he seemed not be able to get the engine to function normally.

"Hey Jaebum!" Mark shouts from across the workshop again.

"Just a moment!" Jaebum yells back. Jaebum slams the hood shut and pulls out a cloth from his back pocket. He wipes his greasy hands and arms as he approaches the red-haired male. Mark has his crimson hair slicked back, the sleeves of his blue uniform rolled above his elbows. For a mechanic, he's probably the most scrawny person ever, but no one knows better than to mess around with him. Anyone who ever gets on his bad side will never look at people his size the same way again.

"Meet the new mechanic!" Mark says cheerfully as he gestures to the person next to him. Jaebum raises his brows at the sight of the new mechanic, before flicking his eyes back at Mark. The older male doesn't seem to get Jaebum's incredulous look. Or even he does, he doesn't show it.

"A girl. Nice," Jaebum spells it out for Mark.

The girl seems to be taken aback from his comment. Her smile previously faltered a little. Her mouth opens to say something but Mark beats her to it. "What's wrong with that?"

"It's just that... A girl... A mechanic... Sounds like a weird combination to me," Jaebum shrugs.

"Why, does my gender bother you?" the girl snaps this time, much to Jaebum's surprise. He stares at the female, wide-eyed, as if she just did something miraculous in front of him. How dare she speak to him like that? His expression schools into something like annoyance. He folds his arms, leaning in closer.

"No female works in a place like this."

"Hey, hey," Mark tries to intervene the heated atmosphere, a hand pressed against Jaebum's chest.

"Well then, I'm not like other girls!" Her face turns a little red, and Jaebum cannot help but laugh at her expression. She reminds him of a child who throws a tantrum when he doesn't get a toy he wants.

"Sure," Jaebum's tone lowers as he challenges the female, "let's see if you can stand working here for a week."

Eyebrows furrowed together, her tone sharper, she questions, "Are you looking down on me?"

"Why? Can't handle it?" Jaebum sneers. "Then why don't you go home and cry to your mommy if you're not up for this?" He waves his hand mockingly.

"Alright, that's enough!" Mark bellows, shoving the younger male away with a glare that means "I'll deal with you later". He then turns to the female, bringing her away from Jaebum. Her eyes linger on the black-haired male, her eyes darker and there's a flame behind it that Jaebum reckons as anger. Mark ushers her around the workshop, doing a tour for her.

Jaebum doesn't waste his time and heads back to the car he was working on earlier.

---

"The heck's your problem?" Mark snarls. He keeps his volume low, considering the female is in earshot. From the clinking sounds in the workshop, Jaebum guesses she has already started working on her first vehicle. There's no one else in the workshop apart from the three of them. Jackson, their boss and their friend, was out of town for a little business trip.

"The girl's the problem. She's not fit for the job," Jaebum spits, not bothered if she could hear him.

"How do you know that? You've never seen her work before!"

"She's a girl!" Jaebum growls. The red-haired male was about to argue back but Jaebum gives him no chance. "This is a car workshop, Mark! How is that puny kid gonna handle all the work here? She's probably gonna collapse one day! We're running a business, for goodness' sake! Not some stupid fairytale that has princes saving the princess' ass all the time!"

Mark scoffs. "Seriously? That's your reason? I'm starting to wonder who is the real girl here."

Jaebum rolls his eyes, mumbling curses under his breath. "How the heck did you even get this kid?"

"I didn't. She came to me, bringing a recommendation letter from Jackson."

Jaebum frowns. Jackson sent her? Then it would mean that-

"That just shows how good she is. Don't you think so?" Mark smiles, clapping his shoulder. "Give her a chance. Who knows, you might come around to like her." He winks, and Jaebum raises his arm across his chest as if he's going to hit the older male. The red-haired just laughs, ruffling Jaebum's hair, and walks away.

---

Days and weeks went by and Jaebum still doesn't change his way of treatment towards her. No, it's not that he hates her. In fact, it's their way of interaction. Jaebum has soften towards the female, that's for sure. He teases her a lot, and they do still bicker frequently too, but both of them knows that it's nothing personal. Their friendship was born on bickering and arguments, and it continues to stay that way.

He's no longer skeptical of her abilities for she has proven her expertise. She's able to diagnose the problem and provide the solution quicker than anyone in the workshop. She doesn't have any problems carrying the tires around or any other tools too. If anything, she's the most competent in the job, but Jaebum will never say that aloud.

Mark and Jackson has become more comfortable around her - in fact, way too comfortable - joking around with her. She smiles and laughs a lot around them too. Her laughter rings in the air, not as high pitched as Mark's or as hysterical as Jackson's, but it's there. There's elegance in the way she laughs, now that Jaebum realizes, and there's elegance in the way she moves and acts. While the girls in the neighborhood laughs normally, she doesn't. She has a hand over her mouth as she laughs. It's as if it's a sin if she were to show her mouth as she laughs. Jaebum finds it weird, but he decides not to care anyway. Besides, why the hell is he even paying so much attention on her?

"You like her, don't you?" Mark said one day, cheek resting against his palm, as he watched the black-haired does his work.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Jaebum questioned back, annoyance evident in his tone.

"I see the way you look at her. It's obvious, Jaebum." A knowing grin plastered on the older male's face, and Jaebum wanted nothing but to scrub it away.

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me," the red-haired said as he patted his chest. He sent the younger a wink, to which Jaebum rolled his eyes and threw a dirty and greasy cloth at his face. Mark only laughed as he threw it back.

"Jaebum! Let's have dinner at the diner after this!" Mark yells from the other side of the workshop, breaking Jaebum from his reverie. His mind snaps back to reality and Jackson's screeching laughter finally flows into his ears. His eyes float from Mark to Jackson, who is playfully joking around with her. It's as if Jackson is just a child in the workshop, not the boss. Her lips are curled up into a huge smile, her eyes crinkling into crescents and Jaebum feels both warmth and a twinge in his heart. Jaebum's eyes fleet back to Mark, who already has a knowing look on his face. Jaebum ignores it, holding up an 'okay' sign and nothing more.

---

Jaebum hears her name being called by a voice rather deep yet calming and soft. He looks up to see a male standing over at their table, eyes blinking at the female. He's tall and lean, black shirt tucked into his denim jeans. His hair is carded back and a pair of glasses is perched on the bridge of his nose.

"J-Jinyoung!" she stutters, and Jaebum's attention is directed to her. Jaebum is seated across her, and he notices the stiff on her shoulders. Her face is so red, eyes blown wide at the sight of the stranger. "W-what are you doing here?"

Amused, the stranger named Jinyoung softly chuckles. "Eating dinner, of course," he says as he lifts his food tray a little.

"D-dinner?" she echoes. Jaebum notices how cautious and wary she is now with the sudden presence of the stranger. Why is she so flustered? Who is this Jinyoung anyway? Why does his presence affect her so much? Does she... like him?

She stretches her neck and looks around the diner, as if searching for something - or someone. What is she so scared about?

Jinyoung must have noticed this behavior too, for he says, "I'm alone." It's evident how relief washed over her: her body relaxes, her shoulders slumped downwards, and the dusty pink cheeks drained.

"I see," she lets out at last.

"Join us, then," Jackson cheerfully suggests to the stranger. If Jaebum could, he would love to kick his boss in the guts. Why should they let a stranger join their dinner table? He knows Jackson is a social butterfly, that bulky man loves creating new connections but why involve him?

"That's really nice-"

"No!" she interjects midway into Jinyoung's sentence, much to Jaebum's surprise. There's a hint of agitation in her tone, and Jaebum wonders just what kind of secret is she holding from them. Why else would she insist so badly that Jinyoung shouldn't join them? Of course, Jaebum is more than happy with that decision. But her behavior around this Jinyoung intrigues him. What's truly happening? Why is she like this? What is she desperately trying to hide away from them? "I need to talk to Jinyoung, actually," she says, grabbing the said male's arm and forcing him to move. She has never been a touchy person. To see that moment of skin contact surprises Jaebum beyond words. "I'll join back later!"

As Jinyoung leads them to his table, Jaebum just watches the duo with hawk eyes. She doesn't even let go of his arm until they reached the table at the far corner of the diner. Such a shady corner where couples would always be seen making out as if they are invisible. Disgusting, really, but Jaebum desperately hopes they don't do anything like that. That they aren't anything like that.

So Jaebum ends up glancing at the two from time to time. They're deep in conversation, and she doesn't even look back at them once, despite Jackson's hysterical laughter and Mark's high-pitched one. Just what's so important that makes her attention to be fully focused on him only? It's like they are in their own world, tuned out from the rest of the world.

Both Jinyoung and her stands up and the male just smiles at her warmly. Jaebum wonders if she likes that Jinyoung. After all, he is handsome. And that air of elegance around him, there's some class attached to him. He seems like a nice guy too, a gentleman too. Jaebum wonders if she's attracted to men like that. And for once, the anger surge within him once more. Why is he even like this?

The two part ways, the male leaving the diner while she heads back to their table.

"Who was that?" Jackson asks when the female takes the empty seat next to him.

"Just a friend," she answers as she grabs her abandoned glass, pouring soda into it. The drink sizzles. Jaebum watches as the air bubble rises from the bottom to the top, which then pops.

"Just a friend?" Mark echoes, curiosity in his face.

"Actually, he's a neighbor," she answers. "We grew up together, that's all."

Then why was she so eager to talk to him? She could have waited till they reach home. Jaebum wonders, questions burning in his head. He doesn't speak them out. Instead, he clenches his fingers around his glass. Why is she so secretive? So... unreachable?

That's when it struck Jaebum hard. She has always been far away. That same elegance, he has it too. His aura has never been the same like the others in the neighborhood. Just as she does, he laughs with his hand clasp over his mouth. Just as she does, he has the same prim and proper attitude. They're so similar, and Jaebum just can't work it out in his head. How can they be so similar? Yet so different from the people around him? Different from him? And it dawns on Jaebum. That thought irks him.

Mark nudges his elbow, nodding at his fingers around his glass. Jaebum follows his gaze and stares at his white knuckles. He didn't even realize how hard he was clenching around his glass. He loosens his grip, but picks the glass up and gulps down the contents. For the rest of the night, Jaebum pretends that everything's fine, even though his heart feels restless.

---

"Jaebum, are you okay?" she asks, drawing his attention from his thoughts. Suddenly, the air feels heavy and tense, as if it weighs on his shoulder. Jaebum just nods, making sure his gaze is straight ahead and not on her face. He doesn't know why he does so, but he just couldn't stand looking at her these days. His fingers fiddles with his mug, hoping that she leaves the pantry soon.

But of course she doesn't.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" she asks once more, slipping onto the empty space on the couch. "You're not sick or anything?" Her face is so close to his, and Jaebum can't help but suck in his breath. At the close proximity, he notices how her skin seems soft, almost flawless despite working at the mechanics. Her lashes are long and curled upwards prettily. Jaebum's heart beats faster, his body burns up, his palms turn sweaty, and suddenly he's so conscious of everything.

Even though she has been working with them for half a year already, only now did Jaebum finally realize.

He has fallen for her.

No wonder he's always annoyed whenever there are guys around her. No wonder he gets mad when she smiles at other guys. He's jealous. That's why he dislikes the idea of other guys getting too close to her. That he dislikes the idea that other guys can see her adorable smiles. That he detests the idea that she's not his. That she might fall for other guys. Guys who are more capable than him. Guys who are smarter. More handsome. Wealthier. Guys like Jinyoung.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he spits, disdain on his tone. It's more of a lie that he wants to believe in. That he didn't just realized his newfound feelings. That he didn't just fallen for the mechanic girl that he dislikes so much. Damn, Mark will laugh at him.

"Are you sure?" she repeats her question. "Look, if I did anything wrong, will you please tell me?"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why won't you look at me in the eye?"

Well, shit. Jaebum inhales sharply. He pretends he doesn't hear her. He stands up, dumps his mug into the sink and exits the pantry. He hears her calling after him, but he ignores her. He heads over to the car he's supposed to work on, trying his best to tune the girl's voice out. But the said girl storms over to where he's working, questioning him once more. "What's wrong, Jaebum? Tell me if I did anything wrong!" She has been so insistent that it pushes him to his limits. She slams his toolkit shut. A wrong move.

Irate, Jaebum shoves her away. "Can you back off? I'm trying to do my job here!" Jaebum feels a pang of guilt in his chest, seeing the mixture of hurt and shock across her face. Jaebum has never been so rough at her, despite their usual bickers. Jaebum has always been careful not to touch the female no matter how much she gets on his nerves back then. But this was the first. And rough too.

"What the hell?" is what she spits a moment later.

"Just leave me alone. I've got work to do," Jaebum utters coldly, turning his back on the female.

"Yeah, sure, but you needn't shove me away like that! What's wrong with you?"

Jaebum slams his hands onto the rim of the car hood. He turns on his heels to face the female once more. "What's wrong with me?" he echoes as he stomps forward, only stopping when he's a few inches away from her face. Jabbing a finger onto her chest, he shouts, "What's wrong with you? Why the hell do you even work here?"

"What are you-"

"You're an uptown girl, aren't you?" Jaebum spits. The way her eyes dilate tells him that it's the truth. Before she can even utter another word, he adds, "That guy back there. He's an uptown guy too, isn't he?"

"So what?" she snaps, after she musters the courage.

Jaebum sneers. "Why don't you just stay at your mansion and be a pretty girl and let those filthy rich bastards woo you? Why the heck do you have to come here? Are you turning us into a joke that you can tell to your whiny friends back there?"

"What the hell?! You think I would do such thing?!"

"Of course you would! You're an uptown girl! You're a spoiled brat who gets everything your way! People like you disgust me the most! People like you are the ones I hate the most!" Jaebum hurls those words at her without a second thought. His chest heaves, and as much as he feels satisfied for spitting such words to her, regret slowly blooms in his chest. But he decides to pay no attention to it.

"How could you- Even after all this while, you still think I'm that kind of person?!" she screams back. Jaebum sees how her eyes turn moist and her face turns scarlet red. By now, Mark and Jackson have rushed over to them, pulling them away from one another. "You know nothing about me! But fine! Since I disgust you the most, I'll leave! I'll freaking leave and disappear from your sight forever!" she yells. She pushes Jackson out of her way and bolts away into the direction to the locker room.

"Leave then! As if I care!" Jaebum shouts after her.

Mark grabs his collar, eyebrows furrowed in anger. "What the hell are you doing?"

#got7 #got7 jaebeom #got7 im jaebeom #got7 scenarios #got7 jaebeom scenarios #got7 im jaebeom scenarios #jaebeom #im jaebeom #im jaebeom scenarios #jaebeom scenarios

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diamondcamefromhell · 5 years ago

Text

Dance

Summary: this was a request by @rosasteri [who may as well be dubbed my creative muse bc the request i get from them make me super inspired ]“ hi, can I request Jaskier x reader? jask, geralt and reader stay in tavern. jaskier plays his music, but other bard comes and jaskier decides to take a rest. people start to dance so jaskier offers to reader his hand and trying to convince her to dance. but reader doesn't know how to dance so Jask teaches her “

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2,019

A/N: i really dont have anything to say, lmao, for some reason im at a loss for words today - spent most of it writing original story, and now have an this dying rge to read percy jackson, so guess i know what i will do tonight, lol, either way

any and all feedback is appreciated and can be left anonymously on my ask page <3

I heard raindrops outside before Jaskier strung his lute again. I peak out the window to see lighting strike somewhere far away. The tavern, however is dry and safe. A fireplace is lit near me, providing a good bit of warmth. I lean my back against it now, looking at Jask.

His shadows remind me of the monsters Geralt slays, splashed across the floor. The wood creaks beneath his feet, but his music overpowers it as his singing fills the room. I hear Geralt grunt in front of me as he chugs his ale. Our eyes meet, and while he seems annoyed, he also looks happy. He got rid of some noonwraiths today, so we were celebrating. The townsfolk were welcoming to their newly found hero and his sidekicks.

Jaskier prances to our table, as if to check if his friends were paying attention to him. He made it really hard not to. I wink at him, as he offers me a smile, dancing away now. I sip my wine, taking eyes off the bard to look at the witcher. His gaze was glued to the window, but a smile was on his lips. I decided not to bother.

I hear some disturbance come from the entrance, as a man rushes in. He’s wet from the rain, but I doubt he cares about that. From underneath his jacket he pulls out a lute, inspecting it to see if there is any rain damage on it. I see his shoulders relax and the answer is clear.

Jaskier seems to notice a fellow bard too, stopping his lute. He waves the guy in, allowing him to take the honours of entertaining the guests, as he drops next to Geralt.

“I need a break.” He exhales the words, taking his ale and sipping it.

“Oh yes, being a bard is sure tiring.” Geralt teases, as Jask nudges him.

“Try to do it yourself, then.” I smirk at them, twirling the drink in my glass. “Y/N, do you think being a bard is easy?”

“Easier than being a witcher.” I mumble, chuckling. “But sure, it’s not easy.”

“I have to entertain the masses, you know what happens when they aren’t pleased?” Jaskier dramatically throws his hands in the air, looking to Geralt and back to me.

“They throw rocks at you?” I can’t help but let out a laugh and Geralt’s comment, who in response smirks. “Because that’s what some do when they see a witcher. They throw rocks or whatever happens to be at their disposal. One time it was a cat.”

“Oh no.” I say, now fully laughing. I see Jaskier break character too, as he giggles. “Cats hate you, Geralt.”

“Feelings mutual.” He smirks, as I giggle again.

The silence between is comfortable, but soon the rained upon bard fills it. His lute sounds different, not the sounds I’m used to, but it’s still pleasant. His voice now fills the tavern and I steal a glance at Jaskier, to see what he thinks.

From what I can tell, he likes it. His lips are curled in a smile, and he’s nodding along, without realizing it. I relax, glad he’s not getting competitive. Our eyes meet and he sticks his tongue out.

“I wont try to overplay him.” He says, as I smirk.

“Not again.” Geralt corrects the bard, who flushes red, downing his drink.

“Shut up.” He practically gargles at us.

I laugh. One time at a similar evening, another bard came in and Jaskier wasn’t happy about it. He also wasn’t on his first ale. Or his fifth, for that matter. So he tried to overplay the other guy, and things went wrong faster than Geralt and I could grasp. Our good friend was trying so hard, he danced into a pillar, breaking his lute in half, and then crying.

We helped him out. After we stopped laughing.

I see people spring to their feet now, as the empty space is filling up with patrons, dancing. Couples and friends alike start to move. In turn, bard makes his melody more cheery. I appreciate that, nudging my head side to side in beat.

“Y/N! Let’s dance!” Jaskier yells suddenly, startling me. I stare at the bard, who is already on his feet.

“Jaskier, you know I don’t dance.” I say, as he rolls his eyes.

“Stop being a party pooper and just do it.” He teases as I cross my arms. He grabs my shoulder shaking me.

“I don’t know how to dance!” I argue, and he stops the shaking only to start poking my arm.

“I’ll teach you.” He argues back and I see Geralt raise his eyebrows.

“Teach Y/N how to dance into pillars? Don’t let her embarrass herself like that.” I give witcher a thankful look, but Jaskier is relentless.

“Geralt, fuck off.” He puts his hand right up Geralt’s face, before looking to me again. “Y/N, let’s go!”

“Fine!” I finally give in, as Geralt looks like he is really close to losing his shit and hitting Jask or, gods forbid, his lute. I’d rather avoid another broken-lute-and-cry situation, as funny as it was.

I lazily stand up, and before I can even gain proper footing, Jaskier drags me out. I nearly run into one of the dancers, but at a last second, Jask pulls me out of the way. I glare at the bard who offers me an apologetic smile.

I straighten up, as he starts to step around, dancing. I blankly stare at him, not moving an inch of my body. Jaskier sighs, grabbing my hand and waving it around.

“Loosen up, Y/N.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m dancing. It’s called a statue.” I tease, as Jaskier nudges me, laughing.

“Just step around.” I raise my eyebrows. “Like you really need to use the restroom, but in time with the music.”

“What now?” I laugh, as he rolls his eyes, pulling away.

I try to take his advice the best of my ability, stepping around a little, but timing it with the music. Jaskier grins and I can tell he’s trying to hold back a laugh. I stop, getting embarrassed, once he realizes that, he laughs and hugs me.

“I’m sorry, it’s just your legs, they move, but from waist up you look dead.” He laughs in my ear as my face heats up.

“Well should I just act like I’m dying and shake all around?” He snickers, pulling away. His hand still on my shoulder now slides to my hand.

“Let me lead you.” I press my lips, nodding.

“Sure.” I say, through my teeth.

“Do the leg thing.” I am not sure what he means, so the bard sighs. “The toilet dance.”

“Right.”

I do ‘the leg thing’ as Jask gently moves my arms around. He sees that I am not showing much, if any, restraint, so he grows more confident and bold in his moves. I feel like a ragdoll, dragged around, and he starts spinning.

Until I trip, falling and getting under his feet. He crashes on top of me, and I swear I hear Geralt laugh.

“I can’t breathe!” I grunt, as I feel Jaskier vibrate on top of me. It takes me a moment to realize he’s laughing. I try to push him, but the bard just won’t budge. “Jaskier, for the love of god!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He says, finally lifting himself off me. I glare at him as he extends his arm to me, helping me up. He breaks out into laughter yet again. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” I say, cleaning my dress with my hands. I feel my cheeks heat up as I see people snickering looking our way.

“Like you hate me.” He pokes my cheek, removing his hand before I can punch it away.

“But I do.” I respond, as the bard ends his song. People cheer for him, as Jaskier and I stare at each other. I struggle to keep a straight face, breaking into a smile. “I hate you.”

“Sure you do.” Jaskier purrs, winking at me, before the bard plays another song, and he starts dancing around.

I don’t wait for him to drag me around again, and I start moving. I do the toilet dance, not forgetting my upper body this time. Jaskier looks me up and down, smiling. The tune pics up in speed, and I struggle to keep up, scared of tripping.

“Don’t be so scared.” I hear the familiar voice, as if he just read my mind. I give a quick glare at the bard, before focusing back to my feet. “You’re thinking too much.”

“If I don’t, I’ll be falling too much.” I hiss, still not lifting my eyes, until his hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me.

“Just look at me or close your eyes, and listen to the music.” He does a twist, grinning. “Let the music carry you.”

“I’m not a musician, Jaskier. Music doesn’t carry me.” He beeps my nose in response, an even bigger grin painting across his face.

“Music has a power to carry anyone. You just need to allow it to do it.” He waves me closer to himself, so I lean in. “And the secret is, nobody knows how to dance. That’s why nobody also judges others. We all just… allow ourselves to move.”

I step back, taking a deep breath in. I close my eyes, listening to the fast-cheery tune. I focus on the bards voice, as it wraps around me. I try to let go off my anxiety and fears, letting my body lose. I try not to think of what I’ doing and who may be watching. I follow the notes like my body is the instrument.

It feels freeing, as if some weight has been lifted off my chest.

I open my eyes, expecting to see some judgemental looks, hear some laughter, but just like Jaskier said, nobody was judging me. I even stole a glance at Geralt, who was simply paying no attention to us. I look at the bard, as he gives me an encouraging nod.

The song dramatically slows, and he now steps closer, extending his arm. I never danced with anyone, but Jaskier seemed like a good practise. We were great friends, so if something went wrong, I am less likely to want to dig myself into a hole.

His hand lands on my waist as I put mine on his shoulder. He takes our free hands, lifting it to the side. I know males lead, so I try to do the same thing. Give in to music, and follow the energy, which in this case was my partner. Our eyes meet and his blue ones shine, reflecting the fire. I smile, not even realizing we are, in fact dancing.

“You’re a natural.” He says, gently pushing me so I would turn.

“Maybe you’re a good lead.” He pretends to be surprised, twisting me around.

“Yes, I think that’s it.” He finally agrees, winking, as I let out a giggle. “See, dancing isn’t that bad.”

“I guess so.” I am reluctant to agree, I know he wont let me live this down. “As long as no pillars happen to be in a way.”

“You will never forget it, will you?” He says through his giggle, and I shrug.

“Maybe. But I wont forget this either.” I say, as he gives me a kind smile.

The song ends and I don’t let go off his hand, dragging us back to our table. We sit down and Geralt looks at us.

“You two danced well.” He says and I am taken back, as it is rare to get a compliment from witcher.

“Thanks.” I whisper, looking at the table.

I let go off Jaskiers hand, my heart beating faster. I don’t hear whatever he starts to blabber about, and I notice Geralt look away too. A different song picks up, and I cant stop my feet from dancing under the table.

I look out the window to see the rain has passed. The sky is clearing up.

#jaskier request #jaskier x reader #jaskier fluff #but not really??#witcher imagine #jaskier imagine #jaskier one shot #tagging makes me so tired #after like two tags im so over it #but exposure #i want it #pls

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jawritter · 5 years ago

Text

Prank Gone Wrong

A/N: This was a private request from my sister. So you guys don’t crucify me upside down lol. This was originally posted on wattpad, and someone who wished to remain anon asked me to bring it over here. So be nice lol. As always all mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one. I was nervous about writing it.

**Disclaimer!** This is a complete and total work of fiction. I don’t believe Jared would ever do something like this!! LOL Even though Misha may beg to differ.....

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected smut, drugged!jensen, jared being an asswhole on accident. (kinda), language, exaggerated effects of a drug, hint at reader with body image issues (very brief), male masterbations (also brief). Shifting viewpoints. I think/hope that’s everything.

Pairing: Jensen x Jared, Jensen x reader, Dean x Cherry (reader’s character), Richard Speight x reader, Richard Speight x Jensen, Misha x Reader, Jared x Reader, Jared x Misha.

Word Count: 5103

Want more? Check out my masterlist!

****MASTERLIST****

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Jensen's POV:

"Jensen, JENSEN!" Mikaela screamed at him. Making him jump in his seat.

"Sorry." He said, Settling back down in the makeup chair. Turning his head for her like she wanted so that she could even out the base coat of makeup she was applying to his face.

"You feeling okay? You're really zoned out this morning."

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just tired I guess." Jensen said. Knowing that was an absolute lie. He wasn't tired at all. In fact he'd never felt more awake in his life.

Today was the day he'd been nervous about since he found out about it. The sex scene between "Cherry," Dean's new love interests.. And Dean. And Cherry just happened to also be Richard's niece y/n.

See Jensen has had a secret crush on y/n since she started working for the show four weeks ago. He'd been separated from Danneel for six months now. The only ones on the set that knew that was Jared. So there was no way that Jensen could ask y/n out even though he really wanted to. He had to wait for things to become public, and he didn't want to do that until the divorce was finalized.

Now here he was, going to have to preform a sex scene with the woman that he can't seem to get out of his head. While everyone, except Jared, thinks that he's still in love with Danneel.

"Morning sexy!!" Jared said, flopping down in the makeup chair next to him. Handing him a cup of coffee that he gladly accepted.

"Thank you!! I was running late this morning, and didn't get go by and grab myself any."

"So you ready for today's scene with y/n?" Jared said wiggling his eyebrows at his friend. Watching him intently as he took a deep swing from his coffee.

"Yea, guess as I'll ever be... "

"Okay Jensen your done!" Mikaela said. Ushering him out of the trailer door. He was running late to the costume trailer as well, so he downed the rest of his coffee, and bolted for the door. Glad to be away from Jared and the conversation at hand. He did not want to discuss today's scene with anyone. He just wanted to get it over with. He definitely didn't want to admit he was fighting everything in him that was excited to see her underneath him, even if it was just pretend.

Jared's POV:

Jared rushed out of the makeup trailer headed toward the costume trailer. Seeing Misha coming out of it already in full Castiel mode.

"Misha you coming to watch Jensen and y/n's scene today?" He asked. Making only two short strides of his long legs in order to catch up with the shorter man.

"I don't know, should I? My coverage isn't until once they're done with you in the bunker library." Misha said. Looking up from his script he was reading when Jared had caught up with him.

" Well you might want to, it might get... Interesting..." Jared said. Almost bouncing on the balls of his feet with glee.

"What did you do Jared?" Misha said. Looking at the overly tall man, concerned, but grateful for once It was Jensen and y/n who were in the line of fire and not Misha himself.

"Well. I was at my uncle's house on the brake, and while I was snooping in his guest bathroom I found some Viagra shots. So.. .I kind of stole one of them... Anyway, I knew Jay and y/n had this scene today, and was running late. So I got him a cup of coffee and brought it to the makeup trailer for him. With the Viagra shot mixed in it..."

Jared was grinning like a criminal that had just pulled off the greatest bank robbery in human history. Misha stood there with his jaw on the ground, caught somewhere between amusement, and concern for Jensen.

"Well did... I'm... Oh my god Jared... Did he drink it?" Misha said. Concern growing, but amusement winning out in the end. He did make a mental note NEVER to accept coffee from Jared ever again...

"Yep downed it before he left the makeup trailer. Come on, it's going to take them about an hour to set up. So it should be good and in his system by the time they get down to business." Jared said taking off toward the costume trailer to hurry and get changed into Sam's outfit. This may be the greatest prank he's pulled yet!!

Your POV:

You were having one of those days.. Nothing was going right. You spilled your coffee this morning before you got to finish it. Cliff was late getting you and Jensen to set, you both lived in the same apartment complex while filming in Vancouver, so you usually just car pooled with them, it was just easier.

Even though you guys were already running late, traffic kept you even later, like the whole universe was trying to cosmically get you back for having a huge crush on this extremely handsome and extremely married man that was sitting next to you.

You where nervous about the sex scene today. No matter how many of them you did, they were always awkward. Add in the major crush you had on your costar, and that made it even more awkward.

Jensen must have been nervous, because he wasn't his normal talkative self on the way into the studio.

It was an hour worth of hair and makeup for you, then to your trailer to change into your nude underwear and robe to head to set. It was also December in Vancouver, which made that a very cold walk.

By the time you got to set that morning. Everyone was there and in place. Jensen was standing off in the corner talking to the director, you took your place already in the bed. For this scene your character Cherry was supposed to be sleeping, and Dean comes into her to.. Well You know... After an extra difficult hunt and your characters argument that you filmed yesterday were Dean had admitted his feelings for Cherry, but ran out of the bunker before she could respond to him.

Stripping your robe you get under the sheets and turn on your side as directed by Eric. Your uncle Richard comes over and kneels down on the side of the bed to talk to you.

"How are you feeling kid, are you sure you're okay with this?"

"I'm a big girl Richard. I think I can handle a little sex scene." You tell him. Trying to downplay your nerves a little.

"Okay, Okay," He said. Throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "You know what's going to happen, Jensen's going to come through the door, stand next to your bed. The coverage is going to be on a sleeping Cherry, Dean will then strip down and slip into the bed with you. That's where we're going to start the fun stuff. Now we haven't scripted this scene. Because no matter how much we've tried we can't make it look real on paper, so we're going to have Jensen adlib it. Just follow his lead. If at any moment you feel awkward or uncomfortable, just let us know and we'll reset and start over again. Okay."

"Okay." You said. Feeling a little information overload, but you should be used to that by now.

"Okay." He said, Standing up as they brought the lights down on set. "Jensen's a professional, don't worry." He said winking at you and making his way over to his directors chair while you tried your damndest to calm down your racing heart rate.

Jensen's POV:

Jensen stood off to the side of the set, letting you get comfortable and covered before he made his way to his mark. Trying his hardest to keep his mind on the upcoming task at hand. To do this with as few takes as possible.

He felt funny, but attributed it to his nerves, and tried to shake it off. Looking over to the side of him behind the camera he saw Jared and Misha standing off to the side by the PA's whispering to each other. Probably going to try and find a reason to make fun of him after this scene is over. Great more pressure.

Jensen adjusted his stance uncomfortably as the lights came down and they called the markers in place. The commands started to come out. Y/n adjusted in the bed and smiled at him. A smile that nearly knocked the breath out of him. The only problem is it seemed to show off her cleavage in the brief moment that she turned toward him.

"Quiet on set!!"

Fuck he was already getting hard, and he hadn't even gotten to the bed yet were she was laying. What the fuck was wrong with him? He tried to low key adjust himself to make himself more comfortable, and hide the fact that he was already having some problems. He'd never done this before. His heart rate quickened.

"Action."

Your POV:

As soon as they called action your eyes closed and you started to put on the presumption that Cherry was asleep. Waiting for Dean to come through the door with battered breath. You never get tired of watching Jensen play Dean. Jensen was sexy to begin with, but when he put on his bad ass hunter act it just did all sorts of things to you that you weren't ready to admit yet.

You could hear the door shut to Cherry's room, you could also hear your heart beating in your ears, but you tried to ignore it. Keeping focused on keeping your breaths even, like you would if you were really sleeping.

You could feel Jensen's presents behind you. Even though your eyes were closed. Hearing Dean's clothes hit the floor as he made quick work of them.

You felt the bed dip as his weight came down behind you, his lips finding your throat. You knew that there was no script to this, and that he was just winging it. So you lay there. Playing off the fact that he hadn't woken her up yet.

His lips ghosted over your throat to the pulse points behind your ears and you couldn't stop the shiver that went down your back.

"Cut!!!"

"Okay guys great so far. I don't think he needs to do that again. The next time it cuts to you guys your already going to be deep in the act. So... Let's start from there. Since this isn't scripted this might have to be done a few times. You guys good so far?" Richard called out from his directors chair.

"Yea, let's just do it." Jensen said, his voice was a little more strained than normal. He must be nervous too.

"Okay you guys get in position and Jensen nod when you're ready."

Jensen adjusted himself to be hovering over you. Trying his best to keep staring at the wall, and not you lying underneath him.

To say that the man was breathtaking was an understatement. A light sheen of sweat already coating his chest. You wondered if they sprayed him before he got into the bed. Why would he already be sweating? Jay wasn't really a sweater. Not that you'd ever noticed anyway.

Finally looking down at you when he'd positioned himself between your legs, trying hard not to touch you with his body. He supported his weight on his arms, and knees.

"You okay?" He asked. Looking down at you finally.

"Yeah I'm good, you?" You were starting to feel a little concerned about him. He wasn't acting like his normal joking Jensen at all. It worried you.

"I'm fine sweetheart don't worry about me." He said, winking at you. Trying to make light of an awkward situation. Even though you had nude underwear on, you couldn't help but feel exposed to him, and you couldn't help but feel self conscious about the parts of your body that you weren't necessarily happy with.

Jensen looked over to Richard and nodded to him. Then the two of you lay there waiting on the words action!

Jensen had his eyes closed and was taking deep breaths above you.

"Quiet on Set, ready, and action!!"

As soon as the words were called Jensen's mouth crashed into yours. Knocking the wind out of you. My god the man was a good kisser.

His lips brushed lightly over your own. That's when you felt him start to move his body above your own, careful not to touch his hips to yours, and keep you covered from the other eyes in the room.

"Cut!!"

Jensen's head connected to your shoulder and he growled in frustration. "What now Rich?"

Richard took a tentative step toward the two of you. Jensen still holding his body above your own.

"I'm sorry Jensen, It just didn't look real, your holding your body too high above hers, you're going to have to have a little contact with each other. You've done this before Jensen. What's wrong today?"

Jensen took a deep breath, looking from Richard to you. "I just don't want to make y/n feel uncomfortable." He said, keeping his eyes focused on the bed comforter. It was starting to make you feel even more self conscious. Did he not feel attracted to you at all? Did you disgust him so much that he didn't want to even pretend to have sex with you?

Quickly you shoved the feels down, you had to get through this scene. He said he just didn't want to make you uncomfortable. He was trying to show you a little respect, and keeping his eyes deviated form you until absolutely necessary y/n quite being so self conscious!! Jensen is your friend!

"Y/n I don't mean to sound crude, but your niece, and I know you can handle it. I've seen you at parties, we're not that far apart in age, I'm sure you're not a virgin." Your eyes narrowed at him, silently daring him not to go too far here.

Richard threw his hands up in surrender, and stepped back a step. "All I'm saying is I don't think he'd make you that uncomfortable if his hips ground into you a little. Hell you both have underwear on. It's not like you're really touching each other."

Rolling your eyes at him and fighting the urge to throw a pillow at his face. "No Richard, it won't make me uncomfortable. Now can we get this done!'

"Fine, Okay guys here we go!" Richard said running back to his seat. "Action."

Again Jensen's mouth found yours. Slow, but gaining momentum. He ran his hand down your side that the camera was covered on and you couldn't help the small gasp that left your lips or the involuntary shiver that ran down your spine at his touch.

What you didn't expect was his tongue to run across your lip. Maybe it was an accident. Was he really going to break that rule? Not that you'd mind, but It just didn't seem like Jensen.

Until you felt it again. This time you give him entrance, and he moans so lowly into your mouth that the camera's wouldn't be able to catch it. The sound is going directly to your core. Soaking your thin layer of panties.

With that his hips came down fully against yours. Grinding into you once. Something felt off, but you couldn't put your finger on it. His hips came down to yours again as his mouth made its way down your throat. This time you felt him.

Was he seriously fully erected right now?

He started picking up his pace. Almost rutting into you now. Little moans fall from his lips.

"Cut!! JENSEN!!" As soon as his name was called. He flew out of the bed. His back to you and his hands in his hair. God his back was sexy, but you could tell there was something wrong.

"Richard I need a few minutes!!" He called over his shoulder not turning around. Jared and Misha burst into a hysterical fit of laughter as Jensen through his robe over his shoulders and almost ran off the set.

"Okay everybody take 30." Richard said. Grabbing your robe you threw it over your shoulders before Jared and Misha made their way over to where you were standing. Jared was laughing so hard he could hardly breath.

"It's not funny Jared. I think something is wrong with Jensen." You tell him as soon as he gets an ear shot. He couldn't respond only doubling over in laughter.

"Oh yea there's something wrong with him alright." Misha said wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's hard to do a sex scene when your horny as fuck."

With that Jared fell down on the ground on his back rolling. You resisted the urge to hit Misha in the face.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked. You weren't about to tell them what you felt, or what Jensen was doing right before the director called cut, because that wasn't Jensen you knew it. They'd done something to him.

"I mean Jared here slipped him liquid Viagra in his coffee this morning in the makeup trailer. He's not quite thinking with his upstairs brain at the moment."

Running your hands over your face as Jared got to his feel heaving with laughter, trying to catch his breath.

"Looks like he ran off to his trailer to try and get ahold of Danneel." Misha said doubling over in his own fit of laughter. Jared on the other hand froze. Not laughing anymore.

"Oh fuck I forgot." He said, Looking between the two of you.

"Forgot what?" You said. Fighting the urge to go find a step ladder so that you could slap him in the face without having to jump.

"You guys got to promise not to tell this to anybody, but him and Danni are getting a divorce."

Misha, no longer laughing, turned and faced Jared. "So you mean he's got no one to help him out there, and he's going to basically be stuck with a minimum four hour erection. Jared that's not funny."

"I fucking forgot okay, I knew he had a crush on y/n, he was nervous about the scene today, I just wanted to fuck with him. I didn't think that far ahead. He should be able to just beat it off he'll be fine."

You stood there in stunned silence. "He's got a crush on me?" You said. Looking between the two men.

They both stopped and looked at you. Jared visibly kicked himself for this prank that had gone very wrong, very quickly.

"Jared you got to go tell him what you did! He's probably freaking the fuck out right now" You tell him. Jared nodes at you, and runs off toward Jensen's trailer. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He felt horrible, but it was too late to take it back now.

You stood there for a moment weighing your options.

Finally you made up your mind.

"Misha go tell Richard we're going to need a lot longer than 30, and that he should go ahead and just do yours and Jared's coverage, me and Jensen can resume after lunch." You said, stalking your way toward Jensen's trailer.

Misha watched you go. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face as realization hit him of where you were going, and just what you had planned to do.

Maybe this prank hadn't gone so wrong after all.

Jensen's POV:

"YOU FUCKING What?!?!" To say that Jensen was livid was an understatement. "What the fuck am I going to do now Jared?!" Pacing back and forth across the trailer. He was frustrated, hornier than he'd ever been in his life, and annoyed beyond belief because of the combination of the two. He was also on the verge of panic. He'd never taken anything like this before, so he had no idea how it was going to react to him, he was only about an hour and a half into its effects.

"Jensen I'm so fucking sorry, I wasn't thinking about you not having anyone.... to.... you know..." Jensen narrowed his eyes at him in a death glare. Jared threw his arms up, and backed up a few steps.

"Well guess who gets to explain to Richard why I can't do this scene today?" Jensen says, voice filled with humorless venom.

Jared looked at the ground, and nodded before looking back up at Jensen who's face and neck was slightly red in the tent. Palming himself through his robes subconsciously. Not looking at Jared at all anymore. Just leaning against the wall with his eyes shut next to the bedroom of the trailer.

"Maybe I should take you to the hospital?" Jared asked sheepishly. Jensen through his hand up to shut him up. It was getting harder to concentrate.

"Jared I'm not going to the hospital for this, you've lost your fucking mind."

"Well if you can't get your... self... under control there you may have to."

"Jared get the fuck out."

"But.."

Jensen said nothing just pointed to the front door. Jared nodded and walked out the door. Jensen flopped down on the small couch where he kept his pillow for napping during takes.

Grabbing a bottle of lotion from the table that y/n had left in there when she was there yesterday running lines with him. The thought of her made him ache even more. His mind is unable to focus on anything but her, and what she'd feel like wrapped around him.

Groaning and running his hand down his face, he pulled his robe open, and freed himself from his boxers. Putting a generous amount of lotion in his hand, then began to stroke his aching length. Getting desperate to find some relief.

He'd only pumped himself about twice when there was another knock on his door. Fuck this was literally going to kill, or Jared, he wasn't sure yet.

Your POV:

Reaching Jensen's trailer you still your nerves, reach up and knock on the door.... Nothing. Clif's SUV was still in the parking lot, so you knew he was still here. Just not answering the door.

Reaching up you knock again a little louder.

"Go away Jared!!" Finally came the muffled response through the trailer door.

Taking a deep breath, and thanking God that he hadn't had some massive reaction, or had a heart attack from the medication you steel your nerves. 'You can do this.'

"Jensen let me in please." You yell back through the door. Silence for a moment, Just as you were about to pick the lock you heard his voice a little closer to the door.

"Y/n go away, you don't want to see me right now."

"Jensen please! I know what Jared did to you! Misha is talking to Richard right now! Let me in!"

Silence.

"Don't make me pick the lock Jensen."

More silence.

Just as you were about to pull the hairpin out of your pock to pick the lock on his trailer door, playing a hunter on TV had taught you how to pick a lock pretty well, you heard the latch unlock on the trailer.

Opening the door yourself you see Jensen leaning against the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen section of the trailer.

His face and neck were red, he had a light sheen of sweat still on his face. His breathing was a little heavier than normal. You could only see him from the chest down, seeing as he was standing behind the bar.

"Are they going to cancel the scene for the rest of the day?" He asked. His voice is rough and low. The sound alone sends shock waves through your body. Landing somewhere in your core.

"Yeah, we're off the hook until lunchtime." You tell him reaching over and locking the door behind you. His eyes following your every movement. "Jared and Misha are going to go ahead and shoot their coverage, that should give us about three hours for you to recover."

You start to undo your robe and slip it from your shoulders as you are talking. Your eyes never leave Jensen. He reaches down, obviously palming himself behind the counter. "Y/n... You don't have to do this....."

Deliberately walking around the counter to him. His robe open, His chest showing bare for you to see. His black boxers barely cover his swollen length. Walking up to him you run your hand down his chest. A shiver visibly runs through him, and he leans himself into your touch.

"Let me help you Jay, Jared already told Misha and myself that you don't have anyone that can help you. You don't want to end up in the hospital."

Leaning his head down on your shoulder for a moment. Taking a deep breath before wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Y/n I don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me." He said, not looking at you, just pulling you closer to him. Your chest now against his. His breathing is getting deeper.

"Jensen I would do this regardless if Jared drugged your ass or not. Have you seen you lately?" You say jokingly. Trying to make light of his situation.

Grabbing his hand you pull him toward the open door of the bedroom of his trailer. He follows you silently without a fuss. Pulling the bedroom door shut behind the two of you.

You lay down on the bed and back yourself up against the headboard with Jensen hot on your heels. His eyes lust blown. Deciding it was no use to fight it. If he didn't do something to get himself off he was going to lose his fucking mind.

Crashing his lips into your his kissed you deep, fully of passion and need. His tongue sliding easily into your lips. Expertly gliding over your own. A moan rose low in your throat, and that spurred him on.

Making his way down your jaw line, to your pulse points on your neck, nipping and marking the skin there as he went.

Reaching around behind you, you arched your back so that he could quickly unlatch your bra. Jerking it away and throwing it across the small room. Taking a moment to look down over you exposed chest. Gently running his fingers between your cleavage as he admired you. Outside your breast. From one to the other before leaning down and gently sucking on each nipple. Making them stand on end for him. Your body arching into his, sucking in a deep breath.

He hissed as your body pressed against him. Ripping your panties off, and throwing them across the room with your bra before removing his boxer. He quickly lined himself up with you. Slipping just the tip inside your already dripping core.

"You sure baby? I don't want to do this if you don't want to. I'll just go to the ER if it gets worse."

Putting your lips to his to silence his worrying, you run your fingers through his short hair as your mouth moves smoothly with his.

Deliberately he slides himself fully into you with one swift thrust. Both of you groaning as he fills and stretches you in a way no man has ever. Visibly shaking as he holds himself still, giving you a moment to adjust to him. Kissing you deeply before pulling himself almost all the way out, and sliding back in.

The sensation of his manhood dragging along the inside of your walls was almost enough to send you over the edge right there. You dig your nails into his shoulders and arching your back into him as he finds a steady rhythm. Both of you are touching and feeling all of each other that you could reach. He kept his body pressed close to yours. His hips hitting your clit just right every time he slid himself home.

Over and over again he repeated his steady rhythm, not faulting once. Building you higher and higher. The coil winding tighter and tighter in your belly.

"Jensen.. Fuck.... I'm close..." With that you were thrown over the edge walls tightening around his pulsing length. Grunting loudly he worked you at a steady pace through your high. Picking up the pace casing his own.

Slamming his hips into you faster until he was pounding into you at a punishing pace. Then starting to falter his body jerked above you and inside of you as he spilled seed deep inside of you. Moaning loudly into your shoulder. Slowly trusting himself into you as he road out his own high. Finally stilling inside of you.

Rolling you both over to your sides before pulling out of you. Kissing you a lot calmer now. Sweeter. Taking his time exploring your mouth, you hands tracing the outline of the curves in your body that you honestly hated. He treated it like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

You don't know how long the two of you laid there. Just holding each other as your hearts went back to a normal pace.

"How are you feeling now?" You asked him quietly as he ran his fingers through your hair. Peppering you with little kisses.

He shrugged.

"Don't know, ask me again in about 15 minutes. They say that shit he gave me last up to four hours. I still have almost three hours to go...."

"Well.... we're just going to stay here and take care of you until you feel better. Good practice for the scene today..."

Giggle a little with you he pressed his forehead to yours. Taking a deep breath.

"Y/n... I'm a pretty fuck up person. I'm not walking out of that marriage completely fine, but if you will have me, I really don't want this to be just a fling because Jared is a jackass."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest. You couldn't help the stupid smile that spread across your face as you brushed your lips over his soft pink ones.

"I think I can handle whatever you have to dish out Ackles."

"Well in that case remind me to thank Jared for being a fucking asshole and drugging my ass." He said with a laugh. You could feel his body already responding to you as he quickly began to harden again.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to send him a fucking thank you card."

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