#the human body has to be taped together with the universe's version of duct tape for it to be this shit

[inkblot-skyz]

So i accidentally concussed myself yesterday (hit my head on a shelf it was Not Fun) and. Why the hell does no one talk about the other effects it has instead of just "ogh ouch my head"?? Or that it can last up to 3 days??? Fighting for my life over here what do you mean i hit my head so now i have a tummy ache >:(

[multiverseforger]

The contemporary version of the character is the alter-ego of Dr. Doris Zeul,[8] who suffers from a fatal blood disease. She captures Wonder Woman and plans to put her "life-essence" into Wonder Woman's body using an experimental machine. Interrupted by Wonder Girl halfway through the experiment she ends up with her consciousness in a test animal gorilla named Giganta.[1]

Desperate to return her mind to a human body, Zeul the gorilla abducts a comatose circus strongwoman named Olga with size-changing abilities[9] through unknown means (though Olga was comatose due to a mysterious shaman) and uses the machine to successfully transfer her mind into that body, keeping the villain name "Giganta".

Following her transformation, Giganta allies herself with Queen Clea and the modern incarnation of Villainy Inc. in an attempt to conquer the lost world of Skartaris.[10] Villainy Inc. is defeated by Wonder Woman, but Giganta is subsequently seen as a member of several criminal groups, including the Secret Society of Super Villains.[11]

As part of the Society, she takes part in the "Battle of Metropolis", a confrontation with multiple heroes, including Elasti-Girl, the size-changing member of the Doom Patrol. The Society ultimately loses this battle.[12]

When Diana Prince noted that Giganta's intellect reduces as she grows in size,[13] compelling the villain to become less rational and more prone to violence, she was corrected by her colleagues in the Department of Metahuman Affairs. They implied that Giganta has overcome that limitation and retains her full intelligence at any size.[14]



Giganta in her One Year Later costume, which she continued to use until the New 52.

"One Year Later," Giganta, along with The Cheetah and Doctor Psycho, engage in a battle with Donna Troy (who has assumed the identity of Wonder Woman one year after the events of Infinite Crisis), as part of a search for, as they term it, the "real" Wonder Woman (Diana of Themyscira).[9] The villains continue their quest,[13] holding Troy hostage in order to draw Diana out for a rescue attempt and contend with the current Wonder Girl, Robin, and Diana herself in the guise of government agent Diana Prince. Giganta and her allies also battle Hercules, with the giantess being felled by the legendary champion.[15]

Giganta is a teacher at Ryan Choi's Ivy Town University.[16] Infected and controlled by M'Nagalah, the monstrous Cancer god, she was sent to seduce and capture Ryan Choi, the new Atom, in the process even going so far as to swallow the miniature hero alive (he escapes, and also discovers that she has a tongue piercing[17]). Now free of M'Nagalah's control, a seemingly repentant Dr. Zeul retains her position at Ivy University and has approached Ryan for a second chance, despite the bizarre circumstances of their first meeting.

Before their second date, the Atom is approached by Wonder Woman on behalf of the Department of Metahuman Affairs and asked to wear a wire on his date with Dr. Zeul. After professing her desire to reform, she is informed that Ryan is wearing a wire and tears off the roof of the restaurant to see Wonder Woman and Ryan talking - unaware that Ryan had removed the wire. A fight between Wonder Woman and Giganta ensues. Wonder Woman quickly knocks Giganta out but Ryan intervenes to stop Wonder Woman from beating her further, after admitting she had lost her temper - they realize that Dr. Zeul has disappeared.[18] Whether she heard or saw Ryan's actions to stop her from getting further injuries is yet to be seen.

Giganta is a member of the new Injustice League[19] and she is one of the villains featured in the Salvation Run.[1]

Giganta is also a member of Libra's Secret Society of Super Villains, during the Final Crisis and is shown as a thrall of Darkseid alongside several other super-powered women. She is now called Gigantrix.[20] Over the course of the series she fights as one of the new incarnations of the Female Furies with Wonder Woman, Batwoman and Catwoman. She is possessed by the spirit of the fury Stompa, and only freed when Supergirl smashes the skull-and-crossbones mask from her face.[21]

Giganta is attacked by Diana while on her way to a date with Ryan Choi,[22] implying that their relationship has survived despite earlier difficulties. Mellower than in her appearances in the All-New Atom series, she seems to accept and respect the shortcomings brought by their different lifestyles, going so far as to help Wonder Woman in a mission, reasoning that, with Ryan being a superhero, they should both be used to putting their heroics in front of their private lives.

Most recently, Bane hires her on as one of the new members of Secret Six.[23] The team also includes the shrinking killer, Dwarfstar, who recently hired Deathstroke and his Titans to kill Ryan Choi. Giganta initially seems unaware of this fact, admitting to Dwarfstar that she is dating the Atom (much to Dwarfstar's amusement). Following a disastrous mission to Skartaris, Amanda Waller reveals the details of Ryan's murder to Giganta. After luring Dwarfstar to her bedroom with the promise of sex, Giganta strips him of his belt (the source of his powers) and beats him into submission. She is last heard covering Dwarfstar's mouth with duct tape to stifle his screams, telling him that she plans on keeping him alive so that she can prolong his suffering.[24]

In September 2011, DC Comics revised the fictional history of its comic book line under the title "The New 52". In the revised comic book line, Doris Zeul was bullied as a child due to a rare blood disease. When she got older, Doris tried to cure herself using radiation which resulted in her gaining sizeshifting abilities.[25] Giganta appears as a member of the Secret Society during the "Trinity War" storyline. She assists Vandal Savage and Signalman into tracking Pandora. When the three villains attack Pandora, Pandora successfully subdues Giganta. Her costume combines elements from her original and One Year Later costumes.[26]

After her first encounter with Pandora, Giganta returns for revenge following the conclusion of the Forever Evil storyline. During their fight, Pandora looks into Giganta's soul, and reveals her origin story. Doris Zeul was a bullied child with a blood disease, but cured herself with a radical procedure that gave her her growth powers. A side-effect of the untested operation was that it reduced her intellect.[27]

Giganta is later recruited by agents of S.H.A.D.E. to serve as a supernormal asset, fighting vampires and other monsters. She is tempted by the offer of a pardon for her crimes almost as much for the chance to kill things, which she admits to enjoying.[28]

After the events of "DC Rebirth," Giganta appeared alongside several other villains as they battled the Justice League.[29]

Later, Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor tracked Giganta down to a Los Angeles museum. Giganta had been stealing mystical artifacts for unknown reasons. Wonder Woman managed to defeat the giantess. She was then taken into custody.[30] When Steve Trevor interrogated Giganta in Belle Reve alongside Amanda Waller, he discovered that Giganta had been recruited by Darkseid to steal the artifacts. She told Steve Trevor where to find the remaining artifacts. She stated that she, Steve, and Wonder Woman have had a long history together.[31]

Giganta was then recruited by Amanda Waller into Task Force XL in order to capture the powerful creature known as Damage. During the battle, Giganta revealed that she would love to study Damage's physiology. However, Damage burst through Giganta's hand, leaving her to bandage herself while the rest of the team battled the creature.[32]

In the "Watchmen" sequel "Doomsday Clock," Giganta is among the villains that attend the underground meeting held by Riddler that talks about the Superman Theory. When Comedian crashes the meeting, Giganta attacks him as the villains start to scatter.[33] Later on, she takes part in the attack led by Black Adam against the United Nations, where she is beaten back by Wonder Woman.[34] Giganta was with Black Adam's group when the People's Heroes, the Outsiders, and the Doomed tried to get to Superman and gets into an all-out battle with them until it is broken up when Doctor Manhattan undoes the experiment that erased the Justice Society of America and the Legion of Super-Heroes.[35]

[aerialflight]

Thor Ragnarok (Time Travel)

Notes: I literally wrote this all in one go. The idea was inspired due to @adelmortescryche ‘s influence and I still can’t believe I wrote this to be honest. I had a lot of fun doing it though! I hope you all enjoy and comment or reblog at the end!

AO3

Tony was so fucking tired that it’s impressive that he was still awake at all.

After putting a lock on Loki who looked contrite at being caught and not, you know, trying to take over the world, the Avengers – a name that they’re sticking to no matter how comic-book based it sounded – had a grim Thor and disgruntled Hulk looking after him since Loki seemed oddly wary of the big green guy. Which, of course, should be utilized at all cost.

After they took care of that mess, they got to the slow labor part of the job. Of being superheroes.

What even was his life anymore these days?

Anyway, by this point he was running on adrenaline and sharp urgency that drove him to broken buildings that had people crushed under the debris of battle, directing people to hospitals, or reuniting families that weren’t together during the alien attack on New York.

And wow, that’s a sentence he never thought would cross his mind out of a sci-fi movie. This was so not how he wanted to be first introduced to legit aliens.

Tony pushed forward though, backed up by Captain America and Black Widow who proved to be soothing presences to the mass of people frantically trying to go home or find their loved ones in this whole doomsday scenario gone very wrong that turned out semi-alright in the end.

He ended up lugging Hawkeye around periodically as the man’s bird-eye view (ha!) sharply picked out which areas of the city they circled around needed help. Telling this information through the coms to the rest of the team had them quickly operating on an efficient system that worked out well for them. Something that surprised Tony for all their rocky starts and issues with each other as a unit.

Well, he figured, there were some things you couldn’t share without ending up liking each other, and stopping an alien invasion was one of them.

The process took hours and by the time the situation was well-handled by the police who could take care of the rest, Tony was ready to collapse the moment he landed with Hawkeye in his arms towards the group all gathered in the middle of a broken street under an equally wrecked lamppost that was crookedly bending in the wrong direction.

Thor and a now haggard looking Bruce Banner were there too, Loki hazardously thrown over Thor’s shoulder like a body bag. The almost-conqueror now conquered was glaring heatedly at them all, not talking due to-

“Is that duct tape?” Tony blurted out incredulously. Hawkeye choked next to him.

Bruce shrugged.

“Anything can be fixed with duct tape.” The scientist said mildly.

Thor nodded, the ridiculousness of the entire situation flying right over his head.

“The tool seemed quite necessary in this situation, as proven by Banner here,” Thor said seriously. “My brother possesses a silvertongue.”

“Yeah,” Natasha responded blandly. “We noticed.”

Cap sighed, looking fed up by the entirety of this conversation.

“Should we go back to the tower? SHIELD should be arriving in a couple of hours to receive Loki.” the blond frowned. “Though we’ll probably have to stick around and make sure that it happens.”

He really looked like he didn’t want to do it. Tony couldn’t really blame the old man. He just wanted to wash his hands off of this whole affair and get back to Pepper.

(God, Pepper. He had to call her soon or she’ll kill him for scaring her like that. He needed some sort of normalcy in this entire mess.)

“You know,” he started speaking without any real idea what was going to come out of his mouth. “I’m still really up for shawarma? Cause I’m craving for something right now and Pepper’s always telling me that I should eat before I sleep before I forget.”

Surprisingly, all of them agreed. Turns out punching extraterrestrials really worked up an appetite.

They ended up at a small, mostly ruined restaurant after the third try. The owners there just rolled with the fact they had the saviors of the city in their restaurant as if it were any other day to them.

You gotta love New Yorkers.

They ate in silence, Loki tussled up and left outside. By this point, Tony was pretty sure by now that if the bastard wanted to leave, he would’ve by now. But he didn’t, which was pretty worrying but so not Tony’s problem and he was perfectly fine with just, eating his meal in peace.

Of course, because the world loved to fuck over any good thing in Tony’s life, it didn’t last.

A bright light suddenly was bursting right in front of them, blazing hot and nearly blinding all of them in its close proximity. It slowly started to condense in on itself until it took actual shape into – what Tony belatedly realized – human form.

That’s it. He was done. He couldn’t take another hit right now.

Why did the universe hate him?

They all stood up, Cap jolting out of his nap and reaching for his shield while Natasha untangled herself from Hawkeye, both assassins getting ready. Bruce stood up, shoulders and mouth tight with worry. Nobody would want the Hulk to appear right now and escalate something, but he was preparing to defend them all the same. That kind of thing meant something and Tony couldn’t help be a bit proud. As for Thor, his eyes were darting immediately to the door where Loki was tied up outside, looking ready to attack first and ask questions later.

As for Tony, he cursed hard at the fact he had stupidly stripped himself off his armor. He couldn’t help it with the sense of claustrophobia that had his throat tightening at the thought of continuing to wear what he essentially almost died. He should’ve held on a little longer, should’ve been ready for anything even if it seemed like it all ended.

And Rhodey told him he was too paranoid. Ha!

Just when Tony was relatively sure they were all going to die, the glowing finally stopped and Tony’s brain impossibly stopped working.

It was Thor.

It was Thor?

Whoever it was, he looked an awful lot like him. Goldilocks was no more, his curling blond hair cropped short and revealing darker roots than Tony first believed. The red cape was gone and the man was instead wearing a practical brown cloak that was fraying at the edges and a giant traveling pack the man was slung over his shoulder with ease.

However, the two biggest differences sent a jolt of shock – see what he did there? – through his whole body right down to his toes.

One, Tony couldn’t see the ever-present hammer. Unless he was hiding it underneath the cloak or it was hidden somewhere in that bag, he had no idea.

Second, the man was wearing an eyepatch. And unless it was Halloween where Thor decided to cosplay as Nick Fury’s immortal cousin, this Thor most likely lost an eye at one point.

Seeing how the man was the God of Thunder and could match up to the Hulk, this was very concerning.

That is, if this really was Thor.

First thing this Thor said was, “Oh shit.”

The next thing was, “Is that shawarma?”

The ragged appearance of the man did nothing to erase the radiant grin he was now sporting as he casually walked toward the table full of armed Avengers and picked up a bowl of shawarma before taking a giant bite out of it.

Tony wasn’t even kidding. It looked like the man was unhinging his entire jaw as he bit it, completely undeterred by his baffled audience that included his gaping double.

“You have no idea,” The one-eyed Thor managed to say while chewing enthusiastically. “No idea how much I miss Misgardian food.”

And, well, what the hell were you supposed to say to that?

The shock was quickly wearing off of Thor now as he glared threateningly at the bizarre aberration that stood before them. He clenched onto his hammer and took a step forward.

“Loki, stop playing one of your games.” Thor ordered. A shiver ran down Tony’s neck at the God’s tone. Natasha was narrowing her eyes at the lopsided copy as if she was trying to figure something out.

He hoped she did soon. He worked too hard to stay alive today to die like this.

One-eyed Thor somehow managed to look completely unimpressed, raising an eyebrow and staring at Thor in a way that for some reason Tony couldn’t help but think meant, “Oh honey” which would’ve been a lot more hilarious under different circumstances. He had no idea the blond had it in him.

“You know as well as I do I’m not Loki.” One-eyed Thor waved his shawarma in a scolding manner at the other god. “You can sense magical signatures well enough. Calm down.”

“It can be faked.” Thor rumbled, irritation increasing with every gritted word.

“You know him well enough to tell.” The other Thor pointed out. He took another bite out of the wrapped up food.

“You’re from the future.” Natasha abruptly said. She was staring at him as if she didn’t know what to make of him. “Time travel?”

The man swallowed before beaming at her.

“Observant as always Natasha.” He said cheerfully.

Everyone blinked at the use of first name. It was strange to hear such familiar address from the overly-formal prince.

And then what Thor confirmed sunk in.

“Time travel?” Bruce was shaking his head furiously, looking about ready to blow a gasket. Tony couldn’t blame him, he felt like doing the same in the face of something so out there. And they just fought aliens. “That should not be possible.”

The other Thor smirked far too smugly. “Magic.”

“No.” Tony denied. And will continue to deny for the rest of his days, cause fuck that. “No, everyone knows that’s a fucking cheat answer and like hell I’m going to let you get away with that.”

“But it’s the truth?” this Thor widened his eyes, looking so confused and overly innocent that Tony instantly knew was Thor’s version of a shit-eating grin. Jesus, he could give 16-year-old Tony who was the biggest piece of shit there was a run for his money with that look. If Tony wasn’t so outraged by the topic, he’d almost be impressed.

He could definitely see himself get along with this version of Thor.

Cap was staring at one-eyed Thor with disbelieving eyes before finally closing them as if he was only now accepting how crazy his life was.

“Yeah, no dice.” Hawkeye looked far too amused by the situation now that it was clear they weren’t in danger, smirking with shoulders relaxed. “How did you get here?”

While the question was said nonchalantly, the archer was shifting his stance in a way where he was subtly glancing outside the shop to check up on their resident magician. Seeing if he really wasn’t playing a part in this madness.

The one-eyed Thor whether didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“An accident.” He shrugged. “Pissed off someone and ended up here. My ride should come soon and I’ll be out of here in a jiffy, don’t worry. Shouldn’t affect the space-time continuum too much. The guy who sent me here isn’t powerful enough to bend time to his will.”

“You’re using modern lingo.” Tony didn’t bother to try to hide his glee. “You said space-time continuum! Oh my god, you’re more ahead of the curb than Capsicle! Ha!”

Said mentioned man shot an exasperated look at the billionaire. “Stark.”

Before Cap could really get into it, a more minimized bright light suddenly shined right next to the other Thor before dimming down and making it clear who appeared this time.

Whatever lightened atmosphere resulted in clearing up the strange Thor’s presence immediately disappeared at the sight of the next visitor.

“What the fuck.” Hawkeye spat out, hand jerking for the bow. It vanished before it could and appeared in a sneering Loki’s hand, looking exactly the same as his other counterpart.

“If you don’t mind, I don’t want to get shot at. Again.” The criminal whipped his head around and glared at Thor’s doppelganger with extreme annoyance. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” for the first time since he appeared, there was no sign of playfulness now. Long finished with his stolen meal, he set the bowl down in a decisive move before crossing his arms across his broad chest defensively. “It’s not like I was about to let you get hit.”

“I knew what I was doing.” This Loki hissed. For a brief moment that Tony almost missed, his green eyes flickered up and down Thor’s frame as if-

As if he was checking Thor for injuries.

The very implications were confusing, to say the least. He almost thought he imagined it if it weren’t for the subtle straightening of Natasha’s spine and the way her eyes widened just a fraction from surprise. Hawkeye followed his partner’s lead and his rage leveled down a notch as he seemed to catch it as well.

Assassins. Ugh.

“I’m fine.” The one-eyed Thor rolled his eye – as in singular, there had to be a story there – and jerked a thumb in the Avengers’ direction. “You can yell at me later.”

All that rage slowly seemed to disappear underneath a smooth, cool mask at the reminder. It was such a contrast to the spitting pile of uncontained, raging madness that Tony had come to expect from him that it was disconcerting. It was doubly so when it hit that Loki was actually listening to Thor.

From the dumbstruck look on Goldilocks’s face, this was just as weird to him too.

What the hell was going to happen in the future?

“Fine.” Loki sneered. “Now let’s leave-”

Suddenly, the door behind them banged open and just to pile up on this clusterfuck of chaos that had just been about to leave damnit, the Loki of their time stood there, somehow having broken out of his foot restraints with his mouth and hands still taped over.

“Mmmhmm Hmm!” the degraded Loki sounded out, scathingly glaring at them all.

The double Loki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while the one-eyed Thor starting laughing immediately.

“Oh god, I completely forgot about this!” the man exclaimed, absolutely delighted. “This is amazing!”

“I,” the more composed of the two Lokis sounded completely done. “regret everything that has led us to this point.”

Thor casually waved a hand at the Loki next to him while still staring gleefully at the seething, voice-muffled Loki in front of him.

“This all already happened brother.” Both past Loki and Thor stared in shock at the address, the former with horror and the latter with alighted hope. “Get over yourself.”

Captain America choked.

“Anyways,” the one-eyed man smiled at all of them as if the two hadn’t opened a hundred questions into the open with their existence. “it was nice to see you guys again and you won’t remember any of this, so don’t worry about us changing anything. Live your lives and I hope you get that Civil War business done soon or whatever. Raging fire,” the time traveler made honest-to-god finger guns and pointed both at Bruce with a cheeky grin. “I’ll see you on the ship.”

“Raging what-”

And as flashily as they appeared, they were gone in a flash.

Tony stared at the very spot they were just standing and turned to look at the others to share his confusion when-

The genius frowned.

What the hell were they all doing standing around? Weren’t they just eating a minute ago?

“Hey! How the hell is Reindeer Games here?”

[musesarcade]

Megaman X OCs

-Nook Morrigan

Age: 28 Birthdate: October 6th, 21XX Height: 5″1′ Weight: 111 Gender: Female Race: Dobbit Reploid (Dog Rabbit hybrid) Occupation: Antique dealer, Appraiser, Scavenger, Navigator (Worst at that job) Newbie photographer Hobbies: Reading, Writing, Photography Guitar Practicing (She thinks it’ll bring her friend back home and stops coming and going all the time) Friends: Layer, Axl, Konnar, Nityan, X, Zero, Signas, Douglas, Cinnamon, Marino. Enemies: Dynamo, Chaos, that one Furby that watches her sleep at night, Sigma.

History: Nook never started her life working for the Maverick Hunters, her life began as a Antique dealer who appraises people’s belonging and telling them their price value to sell it at while working with her friend, Glen, who’s a black cat who also works as a Musician and a travelling photographer and volunteering at Abel City’s church. It’s a good life until one day, the missile crisis happened and they lost their shop and half of their belongings inside it. Glen and Nook salvaged what they can, sold off anything that didn’t get destroyed and split the cash to live off of but yet they both agree to rebuild the shop and start over.

On their spare time, they would talk about any topic that would pop up in their heads while Glen showed Nook how to do photography, write poetry and songs, and play the guitar or any instrument he got on hand, but Nook always picked the guitar. The next morning, Glen packed his bag and said good bye out of the blues and left Nook and the Dobbit grieved over her friend leaving and having no way to contact him to make sure that he’s okay, leaving her lose some sleep at night and abandoning their shop and traveling the world.

It wasn’t easy for Nook to be out in the world full of Mavericks, fixing herself with duct tapes, and scavenging for parts and selling off stuff found among wreckage everywhere to make cash to survive and it didn’t help that Nook got arrested by Maverick Hunters after accidentally stumbling upon the forbidden zone (AKA Dr. Light’s old lab) and have to explain how she managed to pass security due to being light on her feet and moving fast.

Signas gave Nook a choice between jail time or working for them and Nook picked working for them to avoid jail time and Signas regrets giving her a job as a navigator after a lot of hunters got hurt and Nook being reckless with her job. Over time, Nook did become more helpful with analyzing what the Hunters would find and how old it is and how useful they can be to them in their fight against Mavericks and making things awkward between her and X and Zero when she points out their age and how much their parts and armor would be worth on the market.

On Nook’s free time, she would write stories and lyrics while teaching herself how to play the guitar in hopes that one day, her friend would hear it and come back for good and not randomly come and go all the time. She’s pretty close friends with Axl and Layer since she feels comfortable around them the most. Nook is a white Dobbit with Lavender and Mint green armor with orange freckles and brown eyes and her armor is cover with Duct tape and known to have long floppy ears and tail. She’s known to be a trouble maker and sarcastic at time and being too honest while shooting her mouth out which makes karma beat her up all the time but yet at the same time, Nook is still a good person who does care for everyone around her and understands that everyone has their own flaws while dealing with her personal problem.

Nityan

Age: 22 Birthdate: July 1st, 21XX Height: 5″0′ Weight: 100 (Light due to her former ability to fly easy and faster) Gender: Female Race: Phoenix Hybrid Reploid Occupation: Commissioner of Weaponry and Armory, Head of Security Hobbies: Reading, Bird Watching, Dancing, Dove and Pigeon raising Friends: Layer, Axl, Konnar, X, Zero, Signas, Douglas (Her adopted Uncle), Alia, Pallette, Chaos Enemies: Vile, Armageddon Anaconda, Mavericks History: The Commissioner of Weaponry and Armory for the Maverick Hunter and a Phoenix hybrid Reploid. Nityan is a sweet nature Reploid with a  semi-Tom boyish attitude that she created thanks to her upbringing by her adopted Uncle, Douglas. (Yes, that Douglas from the MMX Series) Nityan’s mother was a pink and gold colored Phoenix Reploid named Arizona while her father was a black and white colored human Reploid name Johnathan who happened to be Douglas’s closes friend during their years working together when Johnathan use to work as the head of security while Arizona worked in the weaponry and armor department and made Douglas his Best man at his wedding and made Douglas their daughter’s Godfather is anything was to happen to them if they gone Maverick or died. Nityan’s life with her parents were cut short when Mavericks came to her home and her mother hid her inside her father’s workshop inside a crate and ran back to help her father fight them off. Neither of her parents made it and she was found by Douglas after getting a call about the tragic death of her parents. It was an open and shut case on who gets to adopt Nityan when her parents’s last testament was found and read and Douglas took her in and raised her as his own. As Nityan got older, she began to show an incredible talent on making and advancing weapons and armory and understanding how to make better security for the Military and companies and gotten wide attention from universities who wanted to take her in to improve her skills but it was the Maverick Hunters who snatched her up out of fear that she would fall into the wrong hands of the Mavericks and she worked her way up to the level of Commissioner of weaponry and armory and becoming head of security. The reason she has no wings is because she was shot out of the sky by Vile in a battle at the Maverick Hunter Air Force and got them torn off by Vile and fed to a Anaconda Maverick. She’s a mature adult but yet can get pretty insecure about the stubs on her back and she won’t hesitate to hurt you if you tried to touch them. She also has romantic feelings for X but yet is too shy to tell him and scare that X won’t return the feeling. (But she does separate her personal life from her work life.)

Jessica Wily Adder

Age: 19 Birthdate: December 25th, 21XX Height: Almost the same height as her father, Zero Weight: Same weight as her mother, Iris Gender: Female Race: Reploid Occupation: Student at the Maverick Hunter Academy, Rookie Hunter, Navigator (On the side if she has to) Hobbies: Wood carving, meditating, cooking Friends: Layer, Axl, Konnar, Nityan, X, Zero, Signas, Douglas, Cinnamon, Marino, Massimo, Alia, Pallette, Chaos, Nyiem, Dynamo Enemies: Sigma History: Daughter of Zero and Iris who inherited her mother’s kind peace keeper heart and her father’s powerful warrior fighting spirit and an all around friendly Reploid with a fierce fighting strength that she got from both of her parents. Jessica never knew the truth about her mother’s death and Zero was willing to do anything to protect her from the ugly truth and raised her on his own with the help of X and some of their hunter friends. When Jessica was born, The Repliforce Scientists were shocked to discover that Jessica is the Ultimate Fighting Reploid they tried to create and failed after they were checking to make sure that her health is in good shape and want to do more studies on her. But her Uncle, Colonel, stepped in and put an end to their ideas and told them that he wanted his niece to live a happy life with her parents without being treated as a test subject. The Maverick Hunters and The Repliforce did come to agreement that they will watch over Jessica to make sure she’s safe and out of any Maverick reaches. As she got older, she wanted to be a strong fighter like her uncle, Colonel and her father Zero which gave Zero mixed feelings over the idea of his daughter wanting to be a Maverick Hunter after she got into Maverick Hunters Academy and choose to support his daughter and her dreams of becoming a Maverick Hunter while at the same time talking her into studying to be a navigator on the side in case the Maverick Hunter dream doesn’t go so well. Zero is protective of his daughter and willing to do harm to anyone who dares to hurt her and with growing anxiety that one day, this mysterious old man will prey on his daughter and turn her Maverick and it doesn’t help with Jessica so call birth mark being in the shape of a skull with the infinity symbol for eyes. Jessica has Blondish brown hair and green eyes with a tri colored dress armor of red, blue, and yellow who wears a pink Military cap version of Colonel’s and carries a saber like her father’s. (But how do Rep- *Shoves hand in your face* YUP ZERO AND IRIS HAD A DAUGHTER!) (Also note: In my head canon, Iris and Colonel’s last name is Adder and since Zero didn’t know who created him at the time, he adopted Iris’s last name when they got married. I got the last name Adder from my favorite TV, Black Adder.)

Konnar Age: 18 Birthdate: ??? Height: Same height as Axl (But yet he’s shorter than his boyfriend, Nyiem) Weight: ??? Gender: Male Race: Humanoid Reploid Occupation: Maverick Hunter Hobbies: Spending time with Nyiem his boyfriend, Friends: Chaos, Axl, X, Zero, Nityan, Layer, Alia, Pallette, Cinnamon, Marino, Massimo, Nyiem (Boyfriend), Starblade Raccoon Enemies: Mavericks, anyone who hurts Chaos, Nyiem, or Starblade Raccoon History: No one knows who made Konnar or why they abandoned him in the ruins of a research lab with a mouthy, rude, and sarcastic AI name Chaos who was guarding over him till the Hunters found them. After giving the Reploid a quick scan for any viruses or any signs of them being Mavericks, it was safe to activate Konnar and discover that he was a docile Reploid with some weak fighting skills while Chaos is aggressive and get creative on how to defeat his enemies in battle, when he’s in possession of Konnar’s body that is. Starblade felt sorry for the Reploid and his AI after many Maverick Hunter Units refused to take in a weak Reploid and about to be doomed to be doing nothing but low level work like cleaning floors or taking out the trash and took him in after he lost his sons to Sigma along with his eye sight and he was determine to make Konnar into a powerful fighter. Konnar and Chaos does have an odd relationship since Chaos looks after Konnar while Konnar helps Chaos to stay out of trouble and know when to keep his mouth shut. Although Konnar is the most friendliest Reploid around who truly lives up to his namesake but in reality, whoever created him, made him into a Berserker Reploid and what’s stopping him from becoming one is his odd eye someone else installed and Chaos who was programmed into it. It’s only a matter of time before Konnar’s dark potential comes out.  

Starblade Raccoon Age: 64 Birthdate: December 7th, 21XX Height: 6″2′ Weight: 311 Gender: Male Race: Raccoon Reploid Occupation: Commander of the cursed 13th Unit Hobbies: Meditation, Haiku writing, Astronomy, Kenjutsu Friends: Layer, Axl, Konnar, X, Zero, Signas, Alia, Pallette, Chaos, Nyiem, his sons (All five deceased by the hand of Sigma) Enemies: Mavericks, Sigma, Shade Fox History: Leader of the cursed 13th Unit, Starblade is known to be a powerful fighter, wise, and to be a fatherly figure with a caring heart to every Hunter who works in his Unit who are treated as his own children with great respect, caring, nurturing, and understanding and raises Hell if Shade Fox dares rear his foxy head around to poach any of his Hunter, mostly Konnar. It is no big secret between the 13th Unit and the 9th Unit Special Force that Shade Fox and Starblade Raccoon hate each others hardware and always at each others throats and getting revenge on each other in the most horrible (or Comical) way as possible. Created from the mysterious chunk of metal that fell from outer space, Reploid Researchers got curious and used the metal to create Starblade and his five sons ( Apollo, Helios, Guaraci, Sulis, and Neto ) for space research and gathering data. Mostly, Starblade and his sons were used for research on the power of the Cosmos and if its possible for the human to control it and use it as the source of endless energy and to advance medical research. But Starblade and his sons soon gain new positions to fight Mavericks by joining the 13th Unit and later on, it was Sigma who hand picked Starblade to his Co-Commander of his Unit while his sons continued on working for the 13th Unit. But then one day, Starblade started sensing darkness within the Leader of the Maverick Hunters and warned his sons and the others, but to his dismay, Sigma moved quickly on his plan and the Maverick Upraise has begun. It was Starblade who was first to confronted Sigmas in hopes that he can talk him out of killing off the human race and call off the Maverick Upraise. Sigma, being disappointed in his Co-Commander and his sons for refusing to join him and are willing to fight him to the death, fought against Starblade and took his way his eye sight, injuring him severely, and then killed all five of his sons mercilessly. (There was a dark rumor once that Sigmas cut off his sons’s tails and decorated his belt with them to show them off as trophies to the other Mavericks.) When Starblade woke up, he was told of the news about his sons’s death and he grieved for his sons and the 13th Unit who were destroyed by Sigma’s wrath. As years went by, Starblade returned as the Commander of the 13th Unit or as everyone called it, “The Cursed Unit” and trained new recruits in it and took Konnar as a adopted son and apprentice he’s training to be a powerful Hunter. Even though Starblade’s eye sight is gone but yet his other senses has sharpen over time and he can hear better and smell better than before and he hopes of one day, that Konnar won’t have to depend on Chaos to do a lot of fighting for him.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @haletostilinski!

Hopefully this is happy enough. I may have taken inspiration from some of your reblogs. :)

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Additional Tags: BAMF Stiles, Season/Series 01, Bad Flirting, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Oral Sex, First Time, Bad Pick-Up Lines, First Love, Love at First Sight, First Crush, Derek is Not a Failwolf, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Beta Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Finds Out About Werewolves

Summary: When Stiles’s first crush wanders back into Stiles’s life, it feels like fate. Then he finds out werewolves are real and Derek Hale’s one of them. Really, that just makes his crush on Derek so much worse.

Read on AO3

******

From Zero to Three-Sixty in Half a Second

Stiles is seriously debating whether Scott contracted lycanthropy when tall, dark, and gorgeous surprises the hell out of them.

"What are you doing here?" the guy demands.

Stiles stares. He knows that gorgeous face. The guy's older than Stiles remembers, yeah, but there's no way he'd forget Derek Hale. Derek volunteered at the library where Stiles's mom had worked and young Derek had been the beginning of Stiles's adolescent adventures in bisexuality.

"Meeting the love of my life." Both Scott and Derek stare at him, making Stiles's grin stretch wider. He hadn't intended to blurt that out, but he can roll with it. Meeting Derek again feels like fate. Derek was Stiles's very first crush. He'd lost all hope of seeing Derek again after the fire.

Scott recovers first. He's built up a resistance to the kind of things that come out of Stiles's mouth. "I lost my inhaler."

Derek stares at Stiles for a moment longer, then tosses the lost inhaler to Scott. Derek turns to leave but pauses when Stiles shouts, "Hey, Derek?" Stiles probably looks like a maniac. He can't stop smiling. He should ask Derek how he's doing or what brought him back to Beacon Hills. "Can I get your number?"

Derek's eyebrows come together in a formidable frown. "Are you hitting on me?"

Stiles shrugs. "Obviously not very well if you have to ask. But seriously, do you want to go out sometime? Catch up?" Subtlety has never been Stiles's forte. He's genuinely curious about Derek's life after Beacon Hills.

"I don't believe this," Derek mutters as he stalks off into the woods.

There's a bounce in Stiles's step as they head back to the Jeep. Derek doesn't realize it yet, but Stiles does not give up when he has a crush.

Stiles can't believe that Scott insisted on going to Lydia's party. Well, actually, he kind of can because Scott is over the moon about Allison and he thinks one day apart is going to ruin their budding relationship, but still, Scott's a werewolf. Like, an actual, real werewolf that kinda attacked Stiles and cut up his chair, and that was before adding the heady cocktail of teenage relationship drama. This is not the day for Scott to pretend to be a social butterfly.

His plan to keep an eye on Scott lasts as long as it takes for Stiles to notice Derek loitering by the pool, like some angry, brooding lifeguard. Derek stands out. For one, he's older and this is a party full of horny teenagers. He's also not participating in any of the horny teenage mating rituals like drinking or talking or smiling.

Stiles makes a beeline for Derek. Let it be known that Stiles may be an idiot sometimes, but at least he's brave. He takes a swig of his root beer to bolster his courage and pastes on a goofy smile. "Your body is sixty-five percent water and I'm thirsty."

Derek's whole face judges him. "Really?"

Stiles shrugs. "It was worth a try. So, what's a fine-looking man like you doing at a party like this? It's definitely not for the scintillating conversation."

Derek doesn't answer. He stares past Stiles. Stiles looks around. A couple of his classmates are side-eying him, probably wondering why Stiles is talking to the hot older guy when most of the cheerleading squad had been turned away. Derek watches Scott moon over Allison and it's definitely Scott that Derek's glaring at, not sugar-sweet Allison, which definitely means something other than romance is in the air.

Stiles turns back to Derek with renewed interest. There's only one reason for Derek to suddenly find Scott so fascinating, which means Derek knows what Stiles knows. That means that Derek finding them in the Preserve was no accident. Stiles is suddenly bursting with questions, but Lydia Martin's pool party is not the place to ask them. At least, not right by the pool.

Stiles takes a step closer and drops his voice to a whisper. "Is this because of the werewolf thing?"

Stiles shouts as Derek grabs him and drags him behind a hedge. Stiles's back hits something hard, but he doesn't care enough to figure out what because Derek is right up in his face and Derek is incredibly hot when he's angry.

"I will take you out," Derek growls.

Stiles has always had an inappropriate reaction to fear. He smiles when he should be quaking. "Okay! It's a date!"

Derek blinks. He takes a step back and frowns in confusion. Stiles gets that reaction a lot. "I meant that as a threat."

Stiles pats Derek's chest then pulls his hand away before he loses it. "Aww. You're threatening me? You know I'm about as vicious as an overweight corgi, right?" Stiles gestures down his body. "I clean up nice, but under this pretty face is one-hundred forty-seven pounds of pale skin and fragile bones. Sarcasm is my only defense."

Derek turns away. The sounds he makes are animalistic. When he turns back, his face is pinched with anger. "Will you take this seriously?"

"Really?" Stiles asks. "I just figured out that werewolves exist, and you want me to be serious?"

Derek surges forward. "If you tell anyone..."

Stiles yelps because Derek's face isn't human anymore. There are fangs and claws and "...where the fuck are your eyebrows?" The glow that takes over Derek's eyes is amazing.

"That's what you focus on?"

Stiles tilts his head. He can't help staring at Derek's face. It's so strange. He wants to touch it. He should probably be at least a little freaked but all he can think is how amazingly awesome it is that there's a real werewolf right in front of him. Does that mean.... "Hey, are vampires real too? What else is out there? Chupacabras?"

Derek's face melts back to frustrated human form and Stiles gapes.

"That is so awesome."

"You're an idiot." Derek covers his face with his hand. "Do you even care that your friend is going to get himself killed?"

A chill runs through Stiles and he straightens. "Killed? What? That's a possibility? By who?"

"Hunters," Derek hisses. "They won't care that he's just a kid or that he never hurt anyone. If they find out what he is, they will kill him."

"Oh," Stiles says. "Oh. That's bad. We need to find Scott. We need to find Scott now."

They can't find Scott. Stiles sends Derek off with his spare key to the McCall house while Stiles puts on a fake smile and gives Allison a ride home, full of platitudes about how Scott totally didn't intend to ditch her. When he finally makes it to Scott's, Derek and Scott are arguing about how Scott became a werewolf.

"Knock it off!" Stiles shouts over them. "Scott, calm the fuck down." Scott drops onto his bed with a scowl. "Derek, did you turn Scott into a werewolf?"

Derek hesitates before shaking his head. "No. I can't. Only an Alpha can." That leads into Derek giving them an abbreviated version of Werewolves 101. Stiles takes notes. On his way out, he asks Derek if he still wants to take Stiles out on a date. Derek rolls his eyes and drives off in an amazing black Camaro.

Stiles counts that as progress.

The next day, Scott completely freaks out during lacrosse practice and tries to kill Stiles. Not the best day of their friendship, but Stiles considers this new werewolf Scott a work in progress. He tries to repeat some of the wisdom Derek had imparted but Scott refuses to listen. In the end, it takes a fire extinguisher to the face for Scott to snap out of it.

"Derek isn't as great as you think," Scott grouses once they're in the Jeep, heading for the McCall house.

Stiles sighs. Scott is convinced Derek is the bad guy in all of this and nothing Stiles says seems to get through to him, just because Derek is advising caution—and not doing things that will get Scott killed—instead of letting Scott do whatever he wants.

"You don't have all the facts," Stiles says.

Scott raises an eyebrow. He's got that tone that means he's really not listening to anything reasonable that comes out of Stiles's mouth. "Which are?"

There are a lot of reasons Stiles could give. Like how Derek used to help him figure out words that were above his grade-level. Or, how Derek's smile was one of the best parts of hanging around the library while his mom was working. What comes out instead is, "I love him."

Scott stares at him for a full minute of silence. "You just met him!"

"So?" That's not technically true but he doesn't expect the Derek of now to be anything like the Derek of then. Death has a way of changing people. He knows that from personal experience, but he's not about to get into that bag of worms with Scott.

"Stiles, no."

"Stiles, yes!" This is what they've devolved to. Stiles can act childish with the best of them.

Scott groans.

"Just wait, Scotty boy," Stiles says with a grin. "I'll win him over with my Stilinski charm."

Scott groans louder and sinks into his seat.

"Your friend's an idiot."

Stiles falls out of his chair with a shout. He scrambles away, panicking until he recognizes the voice as Derek. "How the hell did you get in here?"

Derek jerks his head toward the now-open window and rights Stiles's chair.

Stiles flops back onto the floor. "Doors exist for a reason."

"This was easier." Derek spins the chair so that the back is facing Stiles. "Did Scott do this?" Derek points to the slash marks that are covered by duct tape.

Stiles groans. "Yeah. He didn't believe me when I told him he was a werewolf and he needed to stay in on the full moon." They both know how that night ended.

"Tell Scott he needs to stay away from the Argents."

Stiles snorts. "Yeah. Good luck with that." He'd need a crowbar and a taser to keep Scott away from Allison.

"They're dangerous."

Stiles tilts his head to look up at Derek. He's only known Allison for a few days but he can't imagine Allison as anything close to dangerous. Unless the danger is from cavities. She's almost too sweet to be real. "How so?"

Derek's face goes through a series of sadness-reluctance-anger. Stiles sobers. There's a story here, he can tell. He doubts it's a good one. "They're hunters. They killed my family."

Stiles shoots upright. "What!? But that...." The fire had been ruled an accident. He remembers. His dad had talked about the case for weeks after. He'd thought there was something more to the fire but could never prove it. "I... I'm sorry. That's horrible."

Derek shifts on his feet. He looks immensely uncomfortable. Stiles wonders if Derek's going to disappear through the window, but instead Derek takes a seat in Stiles's desk chair. "The Argents are an old hunting family. Possibly the oldest. They're supposed to have a code. They're only supposed to go after wolves who have hurt someone." Derek hesitates. He stares at his hands, shifting between human nails and claws. It's fascinating to watch. Also, a little hot, but Stiles really shouldn't be thinking like that when Derek's baring his soul. "We thought we were safe. My family was peaceful. We never hurt anyone." His eyes glow blue as he looks up at Stiles. "They trapped my family in our house and burned them alive. Even the children."

Stiles sucks in a breath. What is he supposed to say to that? This isn't the time for any of the usual platitudes. His stomach twists and he's thrown back to the months of torment while his mom wasted away into insanity. Stiles pushes his hands through his buzzed-short hair. "That... that really sucks. I mean... I... I lost my mom and that nearly destroyed me. I can't even imagine.... I'm sorry."

Neither of them says anything after that. Derek leaves through the window. Stiles watches Derek disappear into the darkness. He shuts his window but he doesn't lock it. Just in case. He's going to have nightmares tonight. He's going to dream about his mother screaming at him, scratching his face, trying to drown him in the tub. He's going to watch her step off the hospital roof over and over again, never fast enough to stop her.

Tomorrow, he's going to have a long talk with Scott. He knows it won't change a damn thing, but maybe it'll at least make Scott think twice. That's all he can hope for.

In Stiles's defense, he's still running off the adrenaline of Derek nearly dying and almost having to perform an amputation. It starts off with an innocent question about where Derek's staying, which turns into an argument about where Derek's staying. The burnt-out wreckage of Derek's childhood home is not the best place to recover from being shot.

It takes Stiles an hour to argue Derek into using the Stilinski's guest room. He'll worry about telling his dad in the morning. He gets Derek into the house, shoves a sandwich at him, and then sends him off to shower while Stiles hunts up something resembling pajamas. He steals an old pair of his dad's sweatpants and a t-shirt from the back of his closet that's two sizes too big for Stiles. He's staring at his underwear drawer trying to decide if anything he has would fit and how creepy it would be to offer Derek his underwear.

Derek taps on Stiles's door to get his attention. Stiles turns. He blames everything that happens after that on teenage hormones. Derek's obviously recovered from being shot. His skin is flush from the shower and still a little damp. His wet hair sticks up in uneven clumps. He's only wearing a towel.

"I..." Stiles can't word. He can't string two thoughts together. All of his brain-power is being used by his dick.

Derek takes a deep breath, like he's scenting the air. Is that a thing werewolves can do? Can Derek smell Stiles's arousal? Derek's eyes flash blue, which Stiles takes to mean yes. "Stiles..."

There's a strange softness in the way Derek says his name that makes Stiles bold. Stiles stumbles forward. "Derek, I..."

"I know." The hunger in Derek's voice is unmistakable.

They barely know each other. Derek is older, and Stiles is too young. Derek just got shot a few hours ago. They absolutely should not be doing anything. His dad will be home in a few hours.

"I just..." Stiles drops to his knees in front of Derek. "Tell me. Tell me if you don't want... I want... Let me..."

Derek's eyes glow. Blunt nails scrape over Stiles's scalp, gently pulling Stiles closer. The towel falls to the floor. Stiles moans embarrassingly loud. Derek's dick is large and uncut. It feels like gravity pulling Stiles toward it. He takes Derek in his mouth and groans as Derek's dick fills his mouth. Its weight is heavy on his tongue and he closes his eyes. He's never sucked a guy off but he's fantasized about it so many times. He's watched videos. He's read tips from every source he could find. This feels better than anything he's imagined.

Stiles can't take much at first, but he tries. Derek's hand stays on the back of his head, gently guiding him into a smooth rhythm. Stiles is already hard, and they've only just started. He knows he has an oral fixation. His parents used to yell at him all the time for sticking things in his mouth and he feels bad thinking that all of that led to this moment. Derek's breath turns into short, sharp gasps. His fingers dig into Stiles's scalp at just the right side of painful. Stiles could do this forever. He was born to take Derek's dick.

It doesn't last. Derek bites back a howl as he comes into Stiles's mouth. Stiles almost chokes on it. He swallows quickly, greedily sucking down everything he can get. It tastes strange and bitter, but the sounds Derek makes as Stiles licks the last drops of come from his dick make the odd taste more than worth it.

Derek hauls Stiles up by his shirt. The door slams shut as Stiles is pressed up against it. Derek's mouth is hot and insistent, covering Stiles's and taking over. Stiles melts against the wood. His brain is gone, totally left the building. Derek's fingers unfasten Stiles's jeans and then Stiles is writhing into Derek's grip as Derek jerks him off. It's over embarrassingly fast.

When they finally part, Derek sighs and meets Stiles forehead-to-forehead. "We shouldn't have done that," Derek says. He sounds apologetic but there isn't a trace of regret.

Stiles licks his lips. He can still taste Derek's seed on his tongue. "Did you like it?"

Derek stares at him. He takes a long time to answer, but when he does, Stiles slumps with relief. "Yeah."

He's grinning like an idiot and he can't help it. "Me too."

He's afraid to touch Derek, like he hasn't earned that right yet. Surely having a dick in his mouth counts for something? His fingers tentatively brush Derek's arm where the bullet wound had been. The skin is smooth. It's warm to the touch. Stiles runs his fingers down Derek's biceps. He's never been this close to someone before, not in this way.

He could get used to this.

Derek slowly pulls away. "We can't. You're too young."

Stiles wraps his arms around Derek's neck because there's no way he's letting Derek go now. Not ever. "And you're a werewolf." Stiles leans in closer. "If age is an issue for you, then let's dial it back. Forget all about this. We could do dinner and a movie? Some nice PG handholding? Chaste kisses where no one can see? I know how to keep secrets."

Derek shakes his head, but he doesn't pull away again. "You shouldn't have to lie because of me."

Stiles snorts and buries his laughter in Derek's amazing, broad chest. "Hate to tell you, but lying to my dad was a thing long before you came along. Besides, what's one more thing along with 'my best friend is a werewolf?'"

When Stiles looks up, there's a hint of a smile on Derek's face. "Maybe."

Stiles grins. "I can work with maybe."

[creativitytoexplore]

Astral Sex by Harrison Kim https://ift.tt/3kQA5cX Seventeen-year-old Matthew has an out-of-body sexual experience that gives him a new perspective; by Harrison Kim. 

It's midnight, I'm in Bonnie's apartment, I'm seventeen years old and she's a mature woman who wants astral sex, she's lying on her back in her bikini underwear. I'm on my side, my stomach, I'm flipping like a porpoise. Bonnie's going for soul travel, the ultimate high, she says. I have a hard time holding back, viewing the sheen of her legs against the moon light from the window, "Matthew, we have to breathe in and breathe out slowly," she says. "When we hear a loud bang, that's when our souls leave our bodies, right through the middle of our foreheads." She continues "I've made physical love with many men, but this is a spiritual calling. If I get pregnant with astral intercourse, I'll be like Mother Mary," she laughs. "We're both spiritual sex virgins, Matthew. That's a real turn-on for me." "Pregnancy?" I pushed that out of my head. My teenage mind had room for nothing but lust.

We met as I rested by my bicycle outside Winfield Hall following my debacle premiere at the Okanagan composers' contest. I'd cycled a hundred kilometres to Kelowna, camped overnight in a baseball stadium in preparation for the event. I entered a song called "Throwback," about a small-town kid who because of his quirks and differences is doomed to work forever in a fast food restaurant. "We liked your song," Judge Simone Jeanne said in her written assessment, "Though it's not really our style." However, she invited me down to Kelowna, to the shindig in Winfield Hall. "Bring your guitar." "You'll have a chance to be completely on your own," my Mom said. "It'll be a character-building experience." At the time, I had no idea Simone offered this gesture out of misplaced politeness. I bicycled far above Okanagan Lake, on a curving road, my guitar balanced on my back carrier, apple blossoms falling, the scent of pine trees whirling on wind from the south. I hummed my contest song all the way, 'Throwback, get back, you're gonna work at doing dishes 'til you die." At Winfield Hall, I discovered all the other performers were classically trained musical experts. They played intricate original compositions on piano and wind instruments. I knew ten guitar chords, and couldn't change them very fast. Aged, jade necklace wearing Simone insisted I perform. "Let's give you a chance," she told me, her green rocks shining. "You've come all this way." The crowd of mostly older ladies clapped. "Presenting Matt Andrucci and his guitar." A slim short haired woman with cat's eye glasses and very short hair watched me. "Go on," she sang out as I walked to the stage with my twenty-five dollar instrument, its sides held together with beige duct tape. "Push out your energy." My energy did not push. After five minutes of sitting and tuning and retuning my patched up sound machine in front of the thirty or so attendees, I stood up, waved goodbye and stumbled offstage. "Just doesn't sound right," I shouted, sidling towards the exit, exhausted from riding and not getting enough sleep, disappointed in myself and my failure to launch. I heard a few polite claps as I slid through the door to the fresh air and folded myself down under a poplar tree. "I want to talk with you a moment," The cat's eye lady ran out after me. "I can tell you have spiritual potential." She appeared nervous and thin and she smiled so wide all her teeth showed up past the gums. "Okay," I said. "We can talk under this tree." "Like the Buddha," she grinned. "I'm Bonnie, also with a B. my favourite musical note." Through the half-open windows I heard the next performer beginning a Bach-like organ drone. Bonnie talked fast, the cadence in her voice moving along with the serious music. "I know intuitively who is my match," she said. "I know I met you before in a previous universe. Do you believe in previous universes?" I told her I'd read a couple of books by the Zen monk Lobsang Rampa who used to be an Irish Priest but he had some kind of astral cord soul fusion operation with a Zen Master's body. "It's surprising that his books are in the school library," I said. "I've read all Lobsang's books too!" Bonnie enthused. "It's hard to find anyone who knows about him. You must be quite a different type of boy." She was right. I didn't participate in team sports or school clubs or parties. My Mom said, "If all you do is sit around reading those weird books, you're going to end up a dishwasher."

Bonnie saw me cycling in up the hill as she drove in. "I sensed you as an old soul in a young body," she said, "such courage and leg muscles, to pedal so far from your comfort zone only to embrace disappointment." "My song was no good," I said. "It was about a nerdy boy stuck working in a fast food restaurant." "It was a true song," Bonnie told me. "I heard the recording, and it made me cry." "Really?" I said. "It sounded sad?" I looked at her face. There were lines and angles of chin and cheek. Bonnie wasn't sculpted flawless, like Sandra Washington, the girl at school I crushed on, Bonnie was kinda bony, her hair tucked round her rather large ears. Her rhythmic breathing drew me in; as she spoke she whispered, and told me compliments with every utterance, like, "You seem to have a knowledge far beyond your years, young man." How could she like me so much when she didn't even know me? "But I did know you," she said. "As my lover in a previous existence," she laughed out loud and put her hand across my mouth. "Don't say anything skeptical!" I didn't argue, it was rare to be so attended to, and now, a few hours later, here we were in her bed, her hand on mine, waiting for our souls to be set free with astral sex. She hummed a sound, "Huuuu," and again, "Huuuu," and began exercising her legs. I asked "What's that hum you do?" and she told me, "That's the highest sound in the Universe." "Is that higher than Om?" I asked. "I always thought that Om was highest." My mouth was so dry my words cracked. Bonnie's long legs moved up and down against mine. My eyes bulged. "'Huuuu' is the number one sound for soul travel," she whispered, and maybe it was that whisper of the hu, because I heard a bang, right from the top of my head. I'd felt shifts as we lay in the bed, my soul moving jelly like inside my skin, kind of a blue light shimmering atop my chest, but this was a very assertive pop. I'd wanted release so bad and now I floated outside my body, looking down at it lying there on Bonnie's bed. Bonnie stared right up at me, and then I heard another pop, more like a boom. A mix of light and dark shimmered out of her face, billowed up and formed a human shape beside me. "Hey, how's it going?" is what I heard and there was a lithe and much younger looking Bonnie floating right there. "It's just like when we met the first time," she said; she spoke telepathically, I didn't hear her words as much as see images. "Way back two thousand years ago." "I don't remember," I said. She did seem to be channelling Sandra Washington's look, in fact as I watched her she formed into a very close Sandra replica. "I can be anyone you want me to be," she said. "Is this good?" "It is," I said. "Who do I look like to you?" Bonnie laughed and merged her body with mine, her soul legs moving through my soul chest. Fuzzy blue sparks buzzed, we moved and slid up there in the astral plane, our souls lifted fast as elevators. I heard the tone of "Huuuu" all round me. Our bed shrank back as we burst through the apartment roof and tumbled together up beyond and above the lake. We merged again gazing down at the darkness below, parted by lights all sparkling along the town shore, until things blackened again along the dark tops of trees along the mountains.

That wasn't what I expected when we ate together earlier at Veggie Pro cafe. "I am really hoping Mike sees us," Bonnie smiled behind her wine glass and I asked "Who's Mike?" "That's my ex." "Oh," I said "What does he look like?" "You'll know," she said. "A guy with a ski-jump nose and a beard. He's boasting to me about all the young girls he's seeing. He's probably with one now." She smiled. "I want to show him I can do that too, with a cute young guy of course." I stood up nervously, headed to the bathroom to check my profile in the mirror and make sure Mike wasn't anywhere around. I examined my reflection, checked for pimples, then walked back to Bonnie, vigilant for bearded men. "He's not in the bathroom," I announced. "Mike always comes back to me." She took a big gulp of wine, and poured me another glass. "On his knees. You're never too young for Pinot Noir," she said. We ate gluten free vegetarian. Bonnie talked about her job as a music therapist. "I don't have all my credentials, but I have a few contracts. Would you like to come back to my apartment and hear my mandolin?" "I like the mandolin," I said. She asked if I had a girlfriend. I told her about my crush on Sandra Washington. "I can channel her," she smiled, and rubbed my foot with hers.

A few hours later, way up above the shimmering astral lake, Bonnie morphed into teenage form, appropriating Sandra's long black hair and shiny young skin. I took her into my soul, or so it seemed, we were bodies within bodies thrashing around in the heavens, the mountains rocking and the lake tilting all around our sexy universe. Then I discovered her on top of me in the bed moaning, her hands all down my back and shoulders, as I ran my fingers along her arms. "Oh no!" she exclaimed. "The earth's moved back under us." But she kept moving, she did not stop. In my opinion all seemed well, here we were, on earth again doing it conventional style and at this time sex was all new to me, both the terrestrial and the astral versions. As we lay spent on the bed, Bonnie stated in a low voice "You're very grounded to the physical. You bought us back with your teenage lust." "I heard that sound, 'Huuuu'," I told her. "It was all down my stomach and legs." "Mine too," she said. "I think we may have reached the highest level, just for a few seconds." We rolled out of bed round five as the sun came up. As soon as I stood, my tiredness returned. "I'll drive you and your bike downtown," Bonnie offered. "We'll put everything in the pickup like yesterday." "I think I might sleep a few hours on the side of the highway," I told her. It felt like I wasn't truly in my body, that my soul still lingered up above the astral lake. I felt dazed all day, and pedalled the hundred kilometres back home like an automaton, where I slept twelve hours straight.

Back at school, I daydreamed all day through my classes, I couldn't stop thinking about the astral sex. Sandra Washington walked towards me down the hall. She handed me a note and the note said, "I dreamed about you." "That's great," I said, without smiling. She tightened her lips. "You act as if it's normal," she said. "I think you're a trifle conceited, Matthew." I couldn't tell her I had this soul merge experience, sex in the sky, sliding all over a thirty year old woman's body in a big bed; I looked in Sandra's eyes and imagined her as Bonnie. Daydreams of Bonnie counted now, how she bought me that "Huuuu," and the feeling of intersections and penetrations and the worthiness of being on display. I couldn't study or think; I didn't even know her phone number but I might perhaps remember where she lived. "Do you want a game of one on one basketball?" I asked Sandra, as she stood there and I held her note. "That would be okay," she said, "Except I've never seen you play the game." "I just want to play like a normal kid," I said.

I convinced my Mom I needed to return to Kelowna for a few days and talk to concert judge Jeanne Simone about music lessons. "I want to learn the mandolin," I told Mom. "You're pretty preoccupied these days," she replied. "I'll drive you there." "No no no," I insisted. "I'll take the bus and save you the time and inconvenience."

Jeanne Simone told me, "Bonnie's always been a bit different," but wouldn't give me her phone number. I spent all day searching for her apartment, wandering along the lake; the hours flew by. I absentmindedly gave ten dollars to a panhandler, then found I didn't have enough money for the bus home. I hitchhiked. I couldn't catch a ride all the way back so I slept overnight behind a 24-hour laundromat. I wasn't coping well with the real world. A number of months later I shopped in Kelowna's Orchard Park mall with my friend Keith. We stopped at a music store, spent time trying out all the guitars and synths. Then I saw Bonnie playing a dobro over in the string section, singing with a tall thin black bearded ski-jump nosed man. "Must be Mike," I thought. Bonnie stopped playing and stood up. I noticed a big baby bulge. "See that pregnant lady?" I said to Keith. "Kid could be mine." "Huh?" he said, his chipmunk shaped face turning my way. "That's the older woman I told you about." I said. "Bonnie. The one I had astral sex with." Keith stared for a moment. "Then It could be an astral baby," he stated. Bonnie glanced up, then looked directly at me. I pulled my cap way down over my face and sidled hunched over, creeping towards the door like I did at that concert where I never fit in. "Yeah, maybe the kid'll be another Jesus Christ," I said to Keith. As I passed Bonnie I tipped my hat and smiled large. "Hi," I said. "Do you remember me?" She shook her head and mouthed, "No." Mike stared. "Hi," he said. "Do I know you from somewhere?" "Oh, sorry," I answered. "I mistook you both for rock stars." Bonnie smiled, and played some more rhythm on the dobro. I followed Keith into the afternoon heat. My next dishwashing shift at Hannigan's Burger King began in a few hours. We had to drive back home so I could begin my work on time. "I won't be living my sad sack 'Throwback' life much longer," I told Keith as we hopped in his van. "That's not the actual world." "What is the actual world?" asked Keith. "The one Bonnie showed me," I told him. "Above in the astral, man." I glanced back. Bonnie played at the music shop window, looking away from the outside. "I'm going into music full time," I told Keith. "Well, you do play a few chords not too bad," he agreed. In about thirty years I'll know the holy truth about Bonnie's child. In the meantime, I'll be a dreamer shaping my own reality, practicing, playing, and trying to reach the stars.

[pinknerdpanda]

Blast From the Past

Word Count: 3,100

Characters: Sam x Reader, others mentioned

Warnings: Fluff, Sam’s abs, verbal diarrhea

A/N: This was written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog​ for Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge. My prompt is bolded below.  Beta’d by @wheresthekillswitch​ and @hannahindie​ - I love you both very muchness. Thank you!

x

Blast From the Past

“If I never have to see a spooky, drafty old house again in my life, it would be too soon,” you whisper to yourself as you slink along the rear wall of the dining room, the shredded remnants of ancient wallpaper barely clinging to its surface. Pausing, as you reach the end of the wall, you focus your attention to listen for any unusual noises.

After several moments of relative silence, you peek around the wall and freeze in stunned horror. There, at the end of the hallway adjacent to the room you’re in now, the enormous, hulking shadow of a man flickers eerily in the sparsely lit corridor. You dart quickly away from the end and hug the wall tightly with your back. You clamp your hand around the handle of your gun and suck in a shaky breath. You count silently in your head “One….two….three”  jumping out from around the corner and aiming your small, altered shotgun toward the place where the shadow had been.

To your surprise, the shadow has vanished and you scrunch up your face contemptuously. Standing in the middle of the now empty hallway, gun still pointed uselessly into the darkness, you feel very stupid. After several seconds of staring disbelievingly, you lower your firearm, roll your eyes, and continue on your path. It was just nerves. Just calm down.

The hallway is short but lined with three doors on each side. You pause before the first one, listening. No sound. You duck inside the open door only to find a room devoid of furniture except for a single wooden chair, one leg broken so that it’s tipped forward at a sickening angle. Backing out of the room, you wonder if it would just be better to torch the whole damn building instead of wasting any more of your time on this friggin’ ghost.

As you turn toward the next room, a hand clamps down around your arm, yanking you backward and your stomach lurches. It's been a very long time since you’ve allowed your fear to manifest, but it’s impossible to stop the shriek that escapes your lips. A second hand moves to cover your mouth, muffling your screams. You wonder if the owner of the hands will even be able to murder you, or if your over-excited heart will explode first and beat them to it.

“Shh. Listen.” The voice in your ear is barely above a whisper, but it sounds distinctly male. You comply for no other reason than sheer terror and try to focus on any other sound than the pounding in your chest. For several long seconds, there is nothing at all, but then, from somewhere indiscernible, the sound of heavy, deliberate footfalls catches your attention. When silence fills your ears again, the grip on your arms and mouth loosens.

Before you can react you are being led back into the first room with the broken chair. You turn to see a very tall man with long, dark hair and a worried expression looking down at you. You recognize the shape of him as that of the non-phantom phantom in the hallway just minutes earlier. It’s somewhat gratifying to know that you aren’t completely insane.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says quietly, keeping his voice low. “What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t mean to scare me? Well, bang up job that was,” you scowl up at him. “I’m, well...here.” You grope awkwardly in the canvas bag slung across your body before digging out your fake ID badge and shoving it into his hand. For a second, he looks almost amused and you scowl harder at him.

“Nice work on the badge,” he glances down again, “y/n. Looks like we are in the same line of business, then.” He flashes you the ghost of a dimpled grin. “I’m Sam. Sam Winchester.”

The scowl on your face melts into a look of surprise - your mouth falling open and your eyes blowing wide. Even in the dark, a faint blush floods his face and he looks down.

As if by magic, you’re transported to a different time and place where life was much more simple and you’d felt invincible. You can still picture the devious gleam in his eyes - a much younger version of the ones staring back at you now - as he’d jumped from behind the rusted remains of what used to be a 1960 Dodge Dart. He’d nearly scared you to death in the middle of Uncle Bobby’s Salvage yard that day, the book that your nose had been buried in moments before having sprung from your hands and landed a few yards away. Sam’s hair was shorter then, and so was he. And you’d known that the flustered feeling had little to do with him frightening you; Sam’s presence had always tied your insides in knots.

That was the last time you’d seen him and, 20 years later, you’d suspected it would stay that way. Sure you’d heard stories about the boy who would be king, but saved the world instead. The Winchesters are about as close to being celebrities as it gets in the hunter world. Some people say that he is a selfish man who consorts with demons for power and sex - that he is in fact ‘evil’. You’ve always suspected that this group of people thought that way out of pure jealousy.

Other people believe that Sam and his brother Dean are the human version of duct tape; always stretching themselves over one crack in the universe or another. That group - the ones who believe Sam and Dean to be brave, intelligent and good - appear to be the majority.

But the name Sam Winchester strikes a different chord with you. You had known him to be kind and thoughtful, if a little mischievous. He’d been the first boy you’d ever noticed or had feelings for and even now, standing in the middle of a very haunted house, you feel that long forgotten sensation of butterflies deep in the pit of your stomach.

As you look up into those familiar hazel eyes, still slack jawed and bug-eyed, you come to a realization; he doesn’t know who you are. Though, to be fair, 20 years is a long time and you are a far cry from the awkward, knobby-kneed, freckle face 13 year old girl you were back then. Besides, you hadn’t recognized him until he’d told you his name. You just can’t get over how much he’s grown.

“Geeze, he’s so damn tall.” Sam’s face scrunches up, his mouth forming a perfect frown and he looks taken aback.

“I said that bit out loud, didn’t I?” Your cheeks begin to flame as he nods. “Sorry, uh...you are, ya know....just, uh...just the right amount of tall….”

Sam barks a short laugh, waving a hand in front of his face. “Really, it’s ok. I assume you’re here about Jenkins?”

“Yeah,” you frown. “I guess you're here for the same reason?”

“Actually, yes. So get this, Jenkins died here on this night 57 years ago and every year…”

You interrupt “...and every year on this night, some poor sap goes missing, thinking that they are going to be the one who can spend the whole night here. I did my research.” You don’t mean to sound so indignant, but it slips and you begin to chew on your bottom lip - a lingering habit from your childhood.

“Sure, right. Of course.” Sam’s eyebrows knit together briefly as he scans you up and down.  He rakes one hand through his wavy hair nervously.

A loud bang from somewhere in the house cuts through the now awkward silence and you both freeze, your ears straining and your eyes darting around the dark, nearly empty room. Sam holds up one hand and you bite back the sarcastic comment that floats to the surface. Another sound echoes through the shadows and you silently point to the cracked ceiling.

You follow Sam out of the room, lifting your gun as he does the same. The floorboards groan softly as you retrace your steps back to the dining room. As you approach the bottom of the steps leading to the second floor, you hear an unsettling string of metallic clicks seeming to come from all directions.

“Shit!” Sam lunges for the latch in the front door, trying unsuccessfully to open it. “The doors are locked. We’re stuck.”

A shiver travels the length of your spine and you struggle to push back the whirlwind of anxious thoughts that swarm in your head at his words.

“It's gonna be alright, y/n. Let's just stay together and we will be out of here in no time, ok? You with me?” His expression is soft and comforting and for a fleeting moment you wonder how anyone could possibly think that this man was evil; clearly he’s made of actual sunshine. You nod, swallowing hard and squaring your shoulders.

Sam moves tentatively up the staircase and you follow close behind him, his broad back and shoulders looming over you reassuringly. The second floor is small but there are two doors ahead of you and he glances back at you, flicking his head toward the door on the left before gliding over and turning the knob quietly.

No sooner has Sam opened the door and stepped inside, then you hear a wooden thud resonating from inside the room, followed by one and then another. He grips the handle, struggling to pull it closed again, but he can’t - it appears to be stuck. Thud, thud. Thwack, thump. You can’t see exactly what is happening, but you assume you have found the source of the poltergeist activity. Reaching around him and throwing your body weight into it, you pull with all your might trying to close the door once more.

As if in slow motion, three things happen very quickly. You hear a small, but meaty sounding, thump followed immediately by the sound of Sam crying out and the tinny, evil sound of deep laughter echoes off the walls of the room as if mocking you. Giving one last grunt, you are surprised to see that you’ve been successful in closing the door in time as the sharpened tip of a silver bladed knife peaks out from between the woodgrains.

You usher Sam into the adjacent room, scanning for suspicious activity. Finding none, you yank the door closed behind you and reach into your bag, coming up with two small containers of salt. You work quickly, pouring the salt in a large, neat circle and seating Sam right in the middle. Another metallic click, closer this time, makes you jump - the ghost has you cornered. You move quickly and pour the remaining contents in front of the door and along the window sill before joining Sam inside the ring. The sound of banging and laughter still flowing from the room next door.

Glancing down, you see a faint, but steadily growing spot of blood on Sam’s shirt, beginning under his right arm.  It’s hard to know exactly to what extent the damage has been done with, what appears to be, at least three layers of clothing standing in your way. You look up into his face to find it full of pain. Sliding the strap of your bag off your shoulder, you scrounge around, coming up with a small tin box. Sam looks at it curiously and you grin, flipping open the lid revealing three airplane-sized bottles of vodka, a packet of dental floss, a clear pouch containing sewing needles of various sizes, and several different types of bandages.

“Hunter’s First Aid Kit. Ok, I’m going to need to look at that wound,” you flinch before continuing. “Will you take off your shirt?”

Sam is already shrugging out of his jacket. Next, his long fingers begin working to undo the buttons. He winces as he removes the now ruined flannel and sets it aside before sucking in a breath and gripping the edge of his grey t-shirt and pulling it gingerly over his head.

The room is dark, but there is a decent amount of moonlight filtering through the dilapidated blinds and it glints off of his bare chest, rising and falling from the effort. You were completely unprepared for the sight before you; planes of smooth, tanned skin rippling deliciously over taught, defined muscle.   

“Fuck! Seriously?” You can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth as you feel your eyes growing wide.

Sam’s face is marred with worry. “What? Is it that bad? It hurts but…”

“It’s like you’re Photoshopped!” You cut him off, still unable to control the sudden onset of verbal diarrhea.  You drag your gaze from his chest and look up into his face, to find him blushing, a shy, embarrassed smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Sorry. Shit. No it’s not bad, just a couple of stitches and you should be good to go.”

“Thanks.” Sam’s eyes bore into yours, making your hands shake slightly as you reach for the bottles of vodka from the box. You hand one to him before opening another.

“Drink this,” you say and reach for his flannel, holding it against his skin and pouring the contents of the bottle over his wound. A low hiss escapes his lips and he drains his own bottle, tossing it aside. A chorus of thumps and bangs echo from the hallway as you stitch the cut in Sam’s side.

“Any idea what got you?” You flick your eyes to his quickly before looking back at your work.

“I didn’t see it, but it was something metal.” Sam grimaces as you make your last pass and tie the ends, neatly. Tossing the supplies back into your box, you open the last bottle of vodka and pour half of it over your work before passing it to Sam. You cover the whole thing with gauze and tape the edges.

“All done,” you close the box and tuck it back into your bag, before wiping your hands on your thighs.

“Thanks, y/n,” Sam smiles, and adjusts, careful not to break the line of salt behind him. He checks his watch. “So I think we have about two hours until dawn and I think the doors should all unlock then. Looks like we will have to wait until tomorrow to take care of the ghost. So, how have you been?”

Startled, you study his face carefully. “You remember me?”

“Well, not at first, Sam chuckles. “But you were chewing on your lip earlier, and it all kind of clicked. I felt like I was 13 again; chasing you around Bobby’s place and scaring the shit out of you. I see you never lost your habit of saying all your inner dialogue out loud.”

You bark a laugh, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them to your chest. “Nope. Try as I might, I never developed that filter everyone keeps saying I need.” Your smile fades. “I was really sorry to hear about Bobby.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam nods somberly. “But you, you’re a hunter now.”

“Kind of hard to get away from what you grew up with. My parents died about seven years ago; werewolf. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” Sam’s eyes are so full of empathy, it is unnerving.

“Thanks. But I mean...I’m nothing close to the famous Sam Winchester.”

“Right! Well I mean, you’re not wrong,” Sam says sarcastically and rolls his eyes. “I’m just doing my part, Dean too.”

“Oh I’ve heard the stories,” you smile back at him. “I’ve missed you, Sam. I never thought I would see you again.”

“You too, y/n. It’s funny how life works, huh?”

“So true. I just can’t believe you remember me,” you say softly, dropping your eyes to your hands and studying them very carefully. Sam covers both of your hands with one of his and you look up into his face, dazed and caught off guard.

“Of course I do,” Sam’s eyebrows are cinched together, a look of disbelief filling his eyes. “I had a huge crush on you when we were kids, but I was always too scared to say anything. I’ve thought about you a lot, actually. I always figured you’d gotten out of the life, or I would have looked you up ages ago.”

Every thought you’d had in your head up to this point seems to have mysteriously vanished as his words sink in. You open your mouth and close it a few times, hoping for something brilliant and insightful to say, but the most you can manage is a strangled, “Oh.”

“Wow, I don’t remember ever seeing you speechless.” Sam’s dimples grow as his boyish grin widens.

“I can’t say it’s happened often,” you choke out, your eyes glued to his hand, warm and heavy against yours. “I had no idea. I always assumed you thought I was the ‘nerdy, bossy girl.’”

“Oh, I did. No question. But that was one of the things I liked best about you. Why else do you think I tortured you? I was too chicken shit to say anything, but at least I got to see you all worked up.”

“Well, I’m glad you got over your fear of talking to women, or else…”

Sam’s lips are on yours before you can finish whatever lame thing you were about to say. He’s hesitant at first, like he’s testing the waters. You melt against him and his kiss becomes more urgent, the feel of his breath mingling with yours making you dizzy. The tip of his tongue traces the crease in your lips and you part for him, moaning into his mouth as your tongues meet. He tastes like mint and vodka and the groan that vibrates through his chest shoots straight to your core.

You pull back, eyelids heavy and your breath coming in short gasps. “Well that was...unexpected.”

Sam chuckles, a deliciously low sound. “It’s probably a good thing we didn’t try that when we were kids. I had no idea what I was doing back then.” He raises his hand to move a stray hair from your face, and winces.

“Ok there, Casanova. Let’s get you healed up and we can pick up where we left off.” You blanch, realizing that you’ve just made a largely baseless assumption. “Or not. Wait. I mean...you definitely need to heal up, but I didn’t...we aren’t...I don’t want to assume…”

Sam places a long finger against your lips. “I would like that, more than anything.”

You smile up at him, your heart flooding with an overwhelming sense of relief.

“Besides,” Sam adds. “We’ve got some time to make up for.”

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags (I love you guys - stay weird!):

@wheresthekillswitch​ @arryn-nyxx​ @emilywritesaboutdean​ @fandommaniacx​ @cookie-dough-lova​ @spnfanficpond​ @impandagrl​ @maddieburcham1​ @trexrambling​ @27bmm​ @beachballsizeladyballs​ @hannahindie​ @rosie-winchester​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @that-writer-one​ @amionthetumbler @abbessolute @deansdirtyduchess​ @fandomismyspiritanimal​ @angelsandwinchesters​ @cfordwrites​ @zenia3​ @charliebradbury1104​ @9769997118​ @mogaruke​ @luulaachops​ @supernaturaldean67​  @barbedwireandbubblegum​ @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son​ @muliermalefici​ @galaxy-jellyfish-queen​ @canadianjelly​ @kathaswings​ @almusanzug​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @captainradicalpassion​ @bethbabybaby​ @thinkwritexpress-official​ @akshi8278​ @hexparker​ @emoryhemsworth​ @boxywrites​ @justanotherdeangirl​ @atc74​ @anticipate1003​ @super100012​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​

Pond Tags (Sam + Fluff): @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @blushingsamgirl @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @frenchybell @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @captain-princess-rose @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @idreamofhazel @wevegotworktodo @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @ageekchiclife @your-average-distracted-waffle @drarina1737 @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bohowitch @clueless-gold @melbelle45 @winchester-family-business @4401lnc