Lantern Paintings (Connor M. x Reader)

Anon says- can you do an imagine where connor’s really good at painting and the reader says to “draw them like one of your french girls” (if you wanna make it nsfw it’s cool!)

Ah yes, the good ol French girl. Also!!! I won’t be writing NSFW for a while, sorry!! o: Thank you for the request! <3

Words- 1063

Warnings- Swearing, Implied sexual situation at the end

Connor Murphy’s favorite muse was nature. No matter what thoughts came to nip at him, he would be able to calm himself down with painting.  He would get every fine detail, every grain of sand, every little leaf on the tree. Connor Murphy could paint an entire series of scenic artworks, each inspired by a photo, and each would look more beautiful than the actual place. However, he refused to draw what he thought to be most beautiful.

Connor Murphy refused to draw you.

No matter how much you begged him too, he would never so much as sketch you out. He decided he wasn’t going to draw you because he was afraid of not being able to get every detail.

He wanted to get the way your eyes sparkle in the light, the way that your hair shines, and the way your face curves.  

Connor Murphy wanted to line every detail of your face, something he believed to be impossible.

Its currently two in the morning, and Connor sits on his bed, painting a photo that you had taken the other day. You watch him as he gently strokes the canvas with the small, fine brush. Each stroke was taken with precision.

While this wasn’t always an effective method of venting, it was enough to get his hands steady. Enough to have him think one thought at a time. It was enough to give him time to think.

Connor continues to paint, and you continue to watch. You work on your homework (and a few parts of Connor’s homework so he would have less to do), and quietly hum. This is the typical after school routine. Rarely do the two of you not do this, and rarely is it ever at his house.

When you finish the homework, you set it to the side and walk over to Connor.

“You need to take a break. You’re going to turn into a damn tree. Do you want to become a tree, Connor? Get cut down and turned into a canvas?”

“Y/N, that would be the best moment of my life.”

“You are unbelievable.”

Connor smirked slightly, and set down his brush. Turning towards you, he grabs your hand, and pulls you over to your door.

“Connor, where are we going?” You say slowly, excited for where you might be going.

“Hell, if I know.”

You have a good reason to be excited.


By the time you had arrived, it was already dusk. It seemed that you were brought to a woodsy area, not one that you are familiar with. Connor led you into the woods, walking like he has been here thousands of times before.

“Connor,” You started, “What is this place?”

Instead of responding, Connor gently squeezed your hand, and continued walking.

After walking for a few more minutes, the two of your entered a clearing. The clearing had a few different canvases placed against trees, brushes scattered all over the ground, and lanterns that hung lazily from branches.

Connor led you over to a tree stump, and sat down.

“Care to not be so mysterious and spooky?”

Connor smiled slightly, and picked up a canvas. “Seeing you confused is way more entertaining. It’s cute.”

You roll your eyes and sit next to him. “Where did you get the lanterns from?”

“Zoe. She got pissed off when they disappeared, but she got new ones so, I guess she didn’t really give that much of a shit.”

“And how did you find this area? It’s beautiful.”

“When you leave home every other fucking night, you start to explore.” Connor grabbed a paint brush, and a few different colors.

You nodded, and watching him. “I’m… I’m glad you showed me this.”

Connor applied paint to his brush, and flicked it at you. “Yeah, whatever.”

Letting out a small, squeal you gently push him. “When I asked you to paint me, I didn’t mean like that!”

He chuckled slightly and gently stroked the brush against your nose. “Shit, dude, I guess we have two different definitions of that. Oh well.”

“You are such a dick sometimes.”

Connor just continued to smile – if you could call it that – but you could still see the happiness in his eyes. Out of all of the ways to show emotion, his eyes held the most.

You continued to watch Connor paint well past midnight. The two of you said very little, mostly just enjoying each other’s company.

Every so often, you’d glance at Connor’s face, and notice his features. His eyebrows would raise in concentration, or his eyebrows would furrow in concentration. Occasionally, he would stick his tongue out slightly. He pulled his hair back loosely, allowing a few strands to flow freely.

You didn’t even notice that you were staring until you had paint flicked at you. Again.

You just rolled your eyes, and scooted in front of where Connor was sitting. Placing your head on one of his knees, you poked his side.

Connor glanced down at you, and continued painting. “What, you’re going to blow me in the middle of forest? Didn’t know you were into that shit, Y/N.”

“Ew, what the hell, no! Maybe this is just a really comfortable position, Murphy.” You stick your tongue out, and gently poke his side again.

After waiting a few more minutes, you scoot backwards. “Hey, hey! Connor!”


“Draw me like one of your French girls!” You say, striking a pose on the ground, and lifting your leg up slightly.

Connor looks at you for a moment, his face heating up. “You what?”

You huff, and strike another pose, this time while one your back. “Draw me like one of your French girls, Murphy!”

Leaning back, Connor rested his foot on his knee. “That’s… Kinda hot, y’know.”

You laugh and lie on the ground. “Is it? Is it really?”

Smirking, Connor places the materials to the side, and moves to crawl on top of you, holding himself up with his elbows. “Yes, yes it is.”

You gently cup his cheek with one hand, and gently pushing a stray strand of hair behind his ear with the other. “Can we do something crazy?”

“Crazy? I’d say this is the usual.”

You laugh and kiss Connor, wrapping your arms around his neck. Connor deepens the kiss slightly, smirking.

You might be getting something even better than a painting.


9/11 is kind of odd for me. I was 6, and in the UK, and pretty isolated from the news. I remember 9/11, but only just.

I remember the towers falling, but only just. I saw a few pictures, a video of the towers collapsing, and I was told something about people on the planes making phone calls.

But that’s it.

I didn’t know people jumped, I didn’t know there were 4 planes, I didn’t know one hit the pentagon. I hadn’t seen the pictures of doomed people crowding at the windows. I didn’t know that there were so few bodies recovered.

I was vaguely aware of it, but I didn’t really appreciate the horror of it. And the thing is, no one really talks about it? At least in the UK. There’s the political fallout, people talk about that, people talk about how there didn’t use to be so much security on planes, but they don’t really talk about what actually happened, especially older people, because they kind of assume everyone remembers it. 

I remember where I was when I saw the video of the towers collapsing. But I didn’t actually know anything.

I picked up some bits of information in the intervening 16 years, the pentagon, the fourth flight, the jumpers etc.

But yesterday I was linked to the naudet documentary https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MAHTpFhT5AU

I watched that, and then I spent several hours reading stuff on the internet about what happened and people’s stories. This is a horrifying part of history that has a huge effect on things today, and I didn’t really understand it. 

And last night I had nightmares about it. 16 years later than most people even a few years older than me. Most people younger than me probably don’t remember it at all. And there doesn’t seem to be much of an effort to talk about it.

Destiel Proof?

So my friend, @lillyyypottah, is watching Supernatural for the first time, and she just finished watching the last episode of Season 11, and sends me this:

“So I just watched the last episode of season 11. And we all know the writers tried to make Dean and Amara have a ~connection~. But even with their forced sexual tension something Amara said might have proven Destiel a little more. So Amara was trying to convince Dean to become "one” with her or whatever right? But when she was doing so, I believe she said something along the lines of “come on Dean! Lose your humanity, and join me!” And we know that sometimes the fandom calls Dean humanity after that one time Metatron said “Castiel is in love… with humanity.” And I’ve always had the theory that Amara knew about the feeling between Castiel and Dean, that’s why she kept Cas inside of the vessel with Lucifer while she was torturing him. So maybe when Amara was saying “lose your humanity” she was actually telling dean to lose the part of himself that loves Cas so he could love Amara completely. Because we all knew there was something holding Dean back from Amara, and I’m pretty sure it was his love for Castiel. There I think I’m done.“

Okay, carry on scrolling.

a silly story for y’all:

i don’t know how old i was when this happened but i was old enough to know that babies are made by sex but not quite old enough to know how genetics work. because i vividly remember one day i was really hating my curly hair and in my head i was like “if only my mom didn’t curl her hair the day she had sex i wouldn’t have to put up with this” 

I need motivation

Bully me into writing. I need motivation to get a fic done, so here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna give you all the names of the drafts I have half finished with no context as to what they’re about, and you tell me which one you are most curious about. I’m gonna tally the votes I get between 10:00 and 11:00 pacific time and whichever title you all are the most curious about, that’s the one I’m gonna write. You’ll find out which one you picked after I write it. Okay? Okay. Here they are;

  • Santa
  • *confused yelling noises*
  • Mute
  • Lost Again