because this scene is more about her baby and not chuck

So, I totally dreamt about Destiel going canon last night.

I think in part because what Kathryn said at the con, which people are still trying to figure out what she could mean that wouldn’t involve Destiel, but are coming up with nothing. Then again, what the show seems to thinks would make majority of people happy (while make some others unhappy), as opposed to what would make majority of fandom happy (while making a few unhappy) has a while margin of error as far as not matching up.

Which I know, but my brain apparently wasn’t having that.

So in the dream, I am watching Supernatural, and didn’t realize I was dreaming until the end when I woke up because “This is too good to be true”.

Backstory on the things that I knew had happened leading up to this scene: Mary and Mick both left the BMOL, Mick now working with the Winchesters and basically using everything he knows to help improve the American MOL with the Winchesters.

Due to their inability and desperation to find Kelly (now that they know Lucifer is free and in a stable vessel- thanks, Crowley), the Winchesters basically trap and capture a demon, then torture it to talk, since they know for a fact, demons would also be scrambling for Lucifer’s baby, while not falling under Lucifer’s control again, because literally, first opportunity, he was Camp God again last season, so the demons are wanting a new ruler, to be raised by one of the Princes of Hell.

Kelly, of course, trusts the demons at this point, because they are the only ones going out of their way to protect her and her unborn child, and even dying for her, while angels and hunters are out to get her. Under torture, the demon finally admits that the demons have Kelly at a lake beach house and are planning to kill her as soon as her son is born for part of a ritual to ensure the child’s soul is tainted and dark from birth, since parentage actually has nothing to do with whether or not a Nephilim would be evil.

So, Dean, Sam, Mary, Mick, and Cas all set out on a rescue mission at this point, because Kelly is getting very close to giving birth- like within 24hrs. They set out on a night mission to take the demons by surprise, since they won’t be expecting them. In the demons paranoia, though, they specifically chose the beach property for the fact that they only have to guard three directions, and the body of water wide open to a wall of windows protects itself, where as the other three sides are surrounded by woods.

So you have the Winchesters creeping forward through the trees and brush, silently taking out any demons sentries they see, while Mick and Castiel are coming forward on the other side of the house doing the same.

When they manage to make it from the trees to the sand of the yard without incident, save for Mick and Cas still aren’t there,  they’re actually optimistic they can do this. Kelly is safe so long as the baby lives within her, and they had to have taken out probably half the demons not standing guard near the steps or on the porch, which can be easily seen in the light of the full moon and clear sky. After all of this getting so screwed up to this point, trying to hunt a victim and an innocent baby, Lucifer going free and currently planning to launch some sort of major assault, they’re glad they have the opportunity to maybe fix some of it, right here, right now, undo their past mistakes and also not give Lucifer what he wants.

Except, as they step out into the sandy yard, the demons near the house all smile, and then start to retreat in the house, closing window shutters and basically barricading the place while more demons come from the lake view side of the house and from out of the trees they’d just come through, and the Winchesters realize this entire thing was a trap set for them.

Intense and desperate fight scene in the yard with just three of the five team members all fighting hard and dirty because of how very outnumbered and caught by surprise they are. To which they win, but only just, Sam pulling himself up off the sand, wiping blood from his face and cradling bruised if not cracked ribs, while Mary and Dean both finish off their last opponents. Dean moving to check on his brother, while Mary finishes hers off, all of them trying to catch their breath as the final body hits the ground, until more people come running through the trees. Their eyes all go wide, and Mary turns at the sound, angel blade in hand, ready for a second wave of demons, plunging her sword forward- straight into Castiel, whose eyes go wide in stunned pain, hair a mess, and sporting various cuts and scrapes from his and Mick’s own fight with the demons, when they realized it was a trap as well.

Mary’s hand flies free of the blade handle, backing away just as a frantic Dean shoots forward, “No, no, no! Cas!” “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see-” Dean grabbing Cas by the lapels of his coat and helping ease him down to sit against a wood pile. Cas pulls a bloody hand away from the sword protruding from his body, panicked expression turning to Dean as he struggles to breath, both of them knowing full well as soon as the sword is pulled out, Cas will instantly die, though he’s dead already.

Mick wipes a hand over his mouth in horror, and Mary is still apologizing, and Dean holds out a hand, cutting her off.

“We still have to save Kelly. You three get in there. I’ll follow. I just-” He looks down at the sword, then looks to Castiel, as Mick gathers Mary and the three of them dash toward the house as the clock ticks down. They can hear Kelly crying out with labor pains from inside. When Dean looks at Cas, a question in his eyes, hand hovering near the sword, Cas frantically nods his agreement, hands curling in Dean’s coat as he braces himself.

Dean swallows and nods, pained and torn, but knowing nothing is going to change what’s happening, and there is no last minute miracle to be had here.

Their heads are bent close together, and he whispers, “Okay, on three. One, two-”

And Cas tenses, a sudden panicked moment of ‘Oh God, don’t blame yourself for this, it wasn’t your fault-’ as he blindly jerks his head up, screwing his eyes shut and pressing him mouth to Dean’s ‘-I love you’, only barely catching the corner of his mouth, just as Dean yanks the sword out in a blinding flash of light, 

Then the light fades, and we see both Dean and Cas still holding onto each other with their heads down and eyes clamped shut, which suddenly pop open, Dean’s in pain, knowing what he’ll see, and Cas in shock and confusion he’s still alive, both of them staring wide-eyed at each other not sure what just happened or how, and literally both of them looking back and forth for a half-second where Cas’ wings should be across the sand, then back at each other, still not understanding.

“You okay?” Dean asks, voice shaky and unnerved.

Cas looks just as shaken. “I-I think?” he manages, startled silent as Dean quickly presses his mouth fully to Castiel’s.

Pulling back, Dean lowers his head on a shaky, heaved sigh. “Thank you, Chuck.” Then he’s handing Cas his weapon, and taking the one he just pulled out of him, still stained in Cas’ blood, before pulling him to his feet. “C’mon. We still have to go save Kelly and her baby.”

And then the two of them dart forward across the sandy yard and toward the house where the first sounds of a fight have begun, and Cas keeps to himself the fact that while he’s physically fine, he knows something is different about him, though he doesn’t have time to confirm, but he thinks- he thinks- he may be human now, with a silent understanding from Chuck of This is the last time I’ll do this.

…And then I woke up.

Can I please write for the show now??????

Have some more family fluff with a side of angst of this pairing with spider babies.

Title: Stark Naked

Pairing: T’Stuckony (T’Challa/Steve/Bucky/Tony)

Warnings: mentions of Mpreg. Mpreg!Tony.   

Lenght: 1,878


The pitter patter of footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder and louder by the second. It was soon followed by the heavy thumps of larger steps.

Tony sat idly by on one of the many couches, massaging his rounded stomach and soothing what little he could of his daughter apparently tap dancing on his bladder. Soon he was going to make a quick trip to the restroom, seeing as his daughter didn’t seem to want to lighten up, but first he wanted to see what all the yelling was about. He knew Bucky had gone to give Peter a bath, a plain task that didn’t require shouting, so he didn’t see a reason why Bucky’s voice was booming down the hall and why footsteps were happening.

Sure enough, making an appearance and crossing the corner, his two year old son came barreling down in nothing but his birthday suit. Buck nude and showing the world his naked glory with a toothy grin.

Shortly after him came Bucky with a towel in his hands, his hair soaked, his shirt clinging to his body (which was an incredible sight) and wet spots decorating his pants. He looked to have just returned from an intense workout, and seeing how Peter managed to escape his hold, he probably had.

“Peter!” Bucky shouted again, reaching out to try and wrap Peter in the towel but failing when Peter decided to round the coffee table, giggling the entire time.

Steve, who was sitting next to Tony and had been running fingers over the swell of his stomach, watched the pair fondly with a smirk that grew wider and wider the longer Bucky failed to catch Peter. T’Challa was leaning against the wall with his phone out and recording the entire thing. Tony was going to demand a copy of it.

Eventually, after three more circles around the coffee table, Bucky managed to outsmart the two year old by turning back and letting Peter run into his arms instead. “Got you! Little nudist, we’re finishing your bath.”

Peter gave a shriek as Bucky lifted him up and kicked his legs playfully when Bucky threw him over his shoulder.

“Need some help there, Buck?” Steve couldn’t help but say. “Looks like you had yourself a prison break.”

“No, Steve, I don’t need help. Little punk took off the moment he attacked me with water. He’s every bit as conniving as his mother.”

Tony grinned. “That’s my boy!”

“Gotta say, I thought for sure mixing your brain with Bucky’s attitude was going to be a world domination waiting to happen, but so far Bucky’s been receiving the end of his scheming. I approve of it,” Steve said as his fingers returned to run over the swollen stomach. “Tell me you’re going to send that video to everyone.”

“Doing so as we speak,” T’Challa nodded.

Soon enough their phones received the video from their group text chat. Clint and Sam were for sure going to get a kick out of watching Bucky running after the little nudist that was Peter and failing to catch him. Natasha would never let him see the end of it. Rhodey would use this as another reason to continue his quote of “You fell in love with the guy. You knew what you were getting into,” every time either one of them did something downright ridiculous.

From down the hall Bucky’s voice was heard. “You couldn’t have given me at least ten minutes before sending that video to everyone?”

The three grinned. No they couldn’t.

“Hopefully our little girl isn’t as rebellious as Peter,” Steve commented and looking at the swell.

Tony knew better than to hope. Peter had been calm and quiet during the pregnancy, naturally they believed him to be a placid child, but the moment he was born all hell broke loose. They could chuck it out as being first time parents and getting the hang of things, but Peter was downright rambunctious. Tony was not going to make the same mistake again of assuming their daughter to be well-behaved simply because she wasn’t as active. Fool him once, shame on you. Fool him twice? He was blaming their inherited genius on it. Only a child from Tony Stark would be able to fool their parents.

“You can dream, Steve,” Tony poked his shoulder. “Help me up, I gotta pee.”


“I have the right to be bossy. Now hurry, or I’m going on this couch.”


Three years later it was deja vu all over again.

“Gwen! Gwen you get back here right now!”

Similarly to before, Gwen came running down the hall and turned the same corner Peter had when he broke for freedom. The near-three year old rounded the same coffee table, jumped when Steve nearly had her in his grasp and rushed to the kitchen instead of making another turn.

This time it was T’Challa sitting next to him, running his palm over Tony’s swollen stomach where their son was resting. His other hand held his phone as he recorded the entire scene. Bucky was sitting on another couch with a sleeping Peter using his thigh as a pillow.

“Now I see the fun in this. Need some help, Stevie?”

A shriek and a loud “Ha! Got you fair and square,” and soon Steve appeared again with Gwen in his arms wrapped in the towel. “No, I don’t need help.” He sent a fond glare to Tony. “That brain of yours is dangerous when put on children. Now I know how Bucky felt.”

“Still feel that way,” Bucky said. “The older he gets the move devious. Get the feeling he’ll get rid of us the moment he doesn’t need us.”

“Nah, he loves Tony too much for that. Get rid of us three sure, but Tony he’s keeping.”

Bucky thought it over and nodded in approval. “True. Can’t argue with that. I wouldn’t get rid of Tony, either.”

“Can you not talk about getting rid of me or not getting rid of me while I’m in the same room. I’ll start to think you’re all using me,” Tony said, looking suspiciously at them all.

T’Challa leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Never. If they wish to get rid of you I’ll get rid of them first.”

“How about we don’t get rid of anyone and you send that video already.”

Steve groaned before heading back down the hall to finish the bath.

Rhodey’s voice echoed in his head as Tony watched the video that arrived on the group text chat and read Rhodey’s reply. ‘You fell in love with them. You knew what you were getting into.’

Yeah, he fell in love with them. He knew what he was getting into, he just didn’t expect it was going to be this ridiculous. And, frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

T’Challa pressed his body close. “I am most adamant that our son will be as rowdy as his siblings.”

“Past two experiences are telling us it is. He won’t even settle down right now,” Tony said and shut his eyes at the sensation of their son making another movement shortly after kicking his side. “Think we’re about to get our biggest challenge yet.”

“Nothing we’re unprepared for now.”

“Another bout of sleepless nights? For sure we’re prepared for that, and everything else Peter and Gwen had done, but having three hyper children together?” Tony slumped on the couch from the idea alone. He was going to die. He was sure of it. Thankfully, he had three strong and healthy partners that could decide between them who’s turn was it to rock the baby to sleep. “Think it’s too much to ask for a calm child this once?”

T’Challa and Bucky chuckled. “With your brain, doll? We’d be lucky if they’re the silent inventing type. Their minds are constantly running,” Bucky said, running his fingers through Peter’s soft locks.

Perhaps, but it couldn’t hurt to hope for a behaved child instead of another set of pitter pattering footsteps.


Two months later and Tony wanted nothing more than to take those words back.

Standing outside a neonatal incubator, his chest was filled with anguish as he watched his newborn sleep with wires strapped to his body. A box acting as a barrier between him and his baby. The only signs of life being his little chest slowly rising and the soft beep of the heart monitor.

Outside of the room where the incubator rested were T’Challa, Bucky and Steve standing by the window and looking mournfully inside. Visiting hours were soon to be over and they had given their time to their baby, devoting the last few minutes remaining for Tony alone, but soon they were required to leave. Tony didn’t want to leave, not without his baby. He wanted his child with them. He’ll think they were abandoning him if they left.


Tony didn’t react when T’Challa join him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Anthony, we must go.”

“I don’t want to leave him.”

“We are not. We will return for him, but we must let him rest and recuperate.”

“But what if we leave and he doesn’t. What if he doesn’t get better and we leave him here all alone? What if he thinks we don’t love him?”

T’Challa kissed his forehead. “He knows we love him with all of our hearts, especially you. And you must have faith. Our son is strong and was eager to greet us. Now he must regain his energy.”

Fear clutched at him. “I’m scared we won’t be able to see him again.”

“We will. First thing in the morning, we will. Have faith in him.”

Tony did, even with worry in his heart he did. His baby was strong, strong like his siblings, strong like his fathers’. He was going to pull through.


Tiny footsteps pattered over carpet and a childish giggle joined them. On unbalanced legs Miles sauntered out of the hallway, not buck-naked, and having recently learned how to walk and already trying to get his chubby legs to move faster. Behind him T’Challa wandered out, fast enough to keep up with Miles and slow enough to not actually reach him.

Joy and pride filled Tony’s heart as he watched the pair circle the coffee table. Bucky had his phone out and was recording them. Steve had Peter and Gwen by his sides and were encouraging Miles to keep going.

“I will catch you, little inkwenkwezi, there is no escape!”

Miles giggled and rushed to Tony, asking to be lifted. Tony obliged and pampered his tiny chubby face with kisses. Miles shrieked in response.

“Foiled again,” T’Challa sat down in surrender. “He has escaped me.”

Bucky patted his shoulder, pressing buttons on his phone to send the video to their friends. “Happens to the best of us.”

The replies they received on the group text chat were positive and encouraging and pure delight. Everyone had feared for Miles, but now watching him grow everyday and get stronger, they couldn’t be more relieved and proud.

Rhodey’s expected ‘You fell in love with them, you knew what you were getting into’ was joined by a ‘I’m happy for you.’

Happy he was indeed.

Aid // Jughead

Summary: Despite being Reggie’s cousin you’re bullied by Chuck and soon he takes it too far sending you to the hospital. Reggie only finds out when he sees Chuck slap you and shit goes down but someone else helps you. Someone who understands how Chuck is due to their own history of being bullied.

Characters: Reader x Jughead, Archie Andrews, Cousin!Reggie, and bully!Chuck

Words: 2606

Disclaimer: I do not own Riverdale or the characters. Please read with caution.

Warnings: Swearing, physical abuse, bullying, and fighting

Author: Caitsy

A/N: So we haven’t been getting a lot of notes and I only recently found out that sometimes they don’t work in the tags. For that I’m sorry! Also if you’re bullied please seek help because it’s not healthy and any rumour or threats is not worth you’re pain. Tell someone please.

Master List

Prompt List


Originally posted by alyciadubnamcarey

The books were slammed out of your hands with a force that left you following the textbooks on the onto the ground. You scurried back against your locked so you were out of peoples way and hurrying to pick up your textbooks with a deep frown. You already knew before you looked up who it would be.

“Freak.” Chuck’s voice announced with glee at your suffering.

The thing about Chuck Clayton was that he would torment you as long as Archie Andrews or your cousin Reggie Mantle weren’t in the area. Those two had grown protective over you even if they had began to split with Reggie’s jealously. With the threat that Chuck had uttered about spreading around how you slept with so many people you didn’t tell them.

“Please don’t.” You mumbled as you reached for one of the textbooks. He kicked the textbook further away and kicking your hand away too.

“Ow!” You cried out at the instant pain spreading through your wrist. You began to cry as the pain developed even more.

“Oops. Maybe you should tell the nurse that you were bumped causing you to smack a locker and fall.” Chuck smirked, “Or else there’s a little rumour I could spread around. Isn’t mommy and daddy breaking up and announcing they were cousins?”

“They are…ow!” You exclaimed as he nudged your aching arm.

“Are you okay?” Chuck asked crouching, “I didn’t see you there.”

You were confused until Reggie stopped beside him looking down in concern as you whimpered and sobbed. He glanced at Chuck before helping you up before gently taking your arm to look it over. With a simply glare you scrambled for an excuse.

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Opposites Attract

Request: One were you have been married to Gabriel for centuries and the other angels let it slip in front of the Winchesters and they want to meet you and they are surprised because you are so soft spoken and kinda not like they thought

A/N: This was an anonymous request, but I hope they like it! From the way this was worded, it seemed like it would be hard to tell the whole story in the second-person, so while it’s still a reader-insert, I’ve tried third-person to write this one. Hope it didn’t turn out badly!

Author: Holly

Characters/Pairings: Gabriel/Reader, Sam, Dean, Samandriel

Word Count: 2,817

Y/N = Your Name; E/C = Eye Color; H/C = Hair Color


            The Winchesters had a poor habit of getting themselves in up to their throats, no matter what was going on in the supernatural world. If there wasn’t a furious horde of demons chasing after their blood, and there weren’t Leviathans framing them as serial killers, and there weren’t crazy relatives of God somehow threatening their lives, then they were just putting themselves in danger in other ways.

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Knock, Chapter 4

You have a surprise that you don’t want to share with Simon.

Simon/You, Mild gore, Mentions of vomiting. 

Words: 1392

Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Chapter 3  

You didn’t need a trip to Doctor Carson’s office to know that you were pregnant. Your body had told you that even if you’d been trying to ignore all the signs. First you’d blamed your missing period on stress. Then, when you’d started to the experience the morning sickness that was never quite contained to only the morning, you’d spent three days convincing yourself it was just a stomach bug. You supposed in a way it was, a baby bug hitching a ride in your womb and right now it felt like it was draining the life right out of you.

You glance at Simon, he’s standing in the middle of the road talking to Negan, even laughing with Negan and you wonder what his reaction would be if he knew the truth. You just don’t wonder it enough to actually tell him. You’ve been avoiding him since your skinny dip and for almost a month he’s let you. Today isn’t going to be any different. You’ll keep trying to force your head into the sand and he’ll remain blissfully unaware, you envy him of that.

“There’s more,” Arat warns and you try not to roll your eyes as you turn to see yet another group of roamers ambling onto the freeway. With a sigh you raise your knife, telling yourself that you can do this, that it will be dark soon and you can make it until then just like all the other times you’ve helped clear the dead. Truthfully, you’ve been ready for bed since you’d gotten out of bed this morning and you’re one kill away from crawling into a truck to take a nap no matter who might see or question it.

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12x19 Picspam Review (LOUD NOISES)

Paper bag to breathe into? Check.

Espresso? Check.

Gently worn trench in my floor suitable for my inevitable pacing? Check.

I am so ready to start this review.

*presses play*


*immediately jumps up from chair to pace, breathe heavily, and chug espresso*

Yep, this is gonna go just swimmingly

(Trigger warning for the beginning of this review. I was going originally going to skip it as to avoid the triggery content, but then I realized I had shit to say about it. Also a spoiler warning for Dexter in the beginning. If you want to skip that stuff, just… scroll really fast.)

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Pairing:  Sam x Reader, Sam x Eileen

Word Count: Over 1200

Warnings: Angst, cheating

Notes: This was written for @waywardmoeyy ‘s 600 Followers Not-So-Challenging Challenge. I chose to use Grenade by Bruno Mars as my song, using the line: You said you loved me, you’re a liar. Because you never, ever, ever did, baby. This was so much fun to write, though it hurt a little due to recent episode events that I am still salty about. Hope you all like it!! xox


Originally posted by castielsprofoundbees

Fidgeting against Sam restlessly, you sighed. Placing a gentle kiss on your collarbone, you felt him smile.

“What’s up, Y/N?”

“I don’t know,” you pouted, relaxing against him a little as he began stroking your arm. “I just feel restless. Like something is going to happen. And I don’t like that feeling, Sammy.”

He sighed and wrapped you in his strong arms. He knew all too well how that felt and you knew it. From the moment you’d woken up, you’d felt it. Something foreboding, and as a hunter it never meant anything good.

“You’re probably worrying over nothing,” he reassured you as you rest your head against his shoulder. “Try not to worry too much, okay?” Vibrations ran up your leg and you quirked a brow, looking up at him. Rolling his eyes, he smirked and kissed your nose. “I’ll be right back. I love you.”

Untangling himself from you, he made his way to the kitchen and you couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped you as you watched him leave. You hated any time spent away from Sam but the back of him was just as good to look at as the front. Grinning, you pushed yourself up and browsed through the books crowding the shelves around the war room.

You and Sam had been dating for the last three months and it had been magical. The two of you and Dean had met the year before on a hunt and, after bumping into each other regularly, the boys suggested you just move into the bunker. The three of you worked well together and it made sense to do so, purely for hunting purposes. Nothing had happened between you and the youngest Winchester for some time, only light flirting, until Dean left the two of you alone one night. After some liquid courage, the two of you had opened up and admitted how you felt. From there, it was smooth sailing and you’d never been happier. Though you expected any girl would feel the same if they got to cuddle up next to Sam Winchester every night.

Arms snaking around your waist brought you back to the present and you smiled, leaning back against him.

“Who was it?”

“No-one important,” he replied, though his voice was guarded.

“Oh,” you raised a brow once more and decided to let it go, even though the foreboding feeling got stronger. “Wanna go get some pizza? Dean and Cas should be home soon.”

“Pizza sounds good,” Sam grabbed your hand and led you to the garage, not looking at you the entire time. Something was wrong and you were worried.


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Single - BadBoy!Calum Smut

inspired by Daddy Issues and Single by The Neighbourhood - masterlist


God she’s beautiful.

The first time I’d seen her in a year and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Weddings almost always made me uncomfortable but with her in the room I never wanted to leave.

“You’re staring again.” My cousin, Luke, nudged me out of my daydream.

“Shut up.” I scoffed at the blonde boy opposite me, although avoided his eye contact and fiddled with the watch strapped across my tattooed wrist.

“It’s obvious you’ve still got a crush on her.” He laughed, glancing over his shoulder to where she was spinning round his baby sister with a grin lighting up her face.

I immediately felt my jealousy flare up and slapped Luke’s head round so he’d be facing me again.

“Wow I wonder why she’s not falling back into your arms?!” Luke sourly quipped as he rubbed his head.

I was about to curse him out but she came bounding over, begging us for a dance. She took my breath away, I was lucky she was talking to me.

“Come on you guys! It’s almost the last song!”

She loved weddings. She said she loved the meaning behind them, two souls becoming one. I couldn’t tear my eyes from her and nodded at her invitation.

“Luke’s feeling tired.” I lied through my teeth and he just lightly snorted at my attempt to keep him seated.

As I followed her to the dance floor I gave Luke the middle finger from behind my back to which I’m sure he returned his own.

The steady beat of the pop song that had been playing for the last few minutes quickly scratched out and was replaced with a slow song the second we stepped onto the hardwood. I could see she wasn’t expecting the sudden change but I couldn’t let her slip from my grasp. With a small cheesy grin I wrapped my hand securely around her waist and pulled her close to me, not hesitating for a second. I was sure I looked dumb with an uncontrollable smile on my face as I soaked her in whilst rocking side to side, but I didn’t care. It’s not like I could figure out how to get rid of it when I was around her. She seemed content at our positioning, maybe I had a second chance with her.

“What are you thinking about?” She looked up at me and reached her arms up around my neck.

Her touch that I had yearned for for too long sent warm sparks through my body.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, baby.” I winked before realising my mistake.

I can’t help calling her baby even though I shouldn’t. When we were together I barely called her anything else. It still felt right.

“Baby?” She whispered the word as if it was filthy. When I used to whisper it, it was.

“Slip of the tongue.” I apologised, tearing my eyes away from her in embarrassment.

I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I was acting like a bumbling idiot in front of her. I guess the year apart didn’t give me as much closure as I thought it had.

“No it wasn’t.” She spoke softly but she knew I was listening.

I didn’t know how to respond. I had no clever one-liner. I could only get lost in her eyes and leave my mouth parted ready for words that weren’t forming.


I was rudely pulled from her gaze by a cold mutter of my name.

“Sir.” I pulled my hands away from her immediately, the absence of her touch making me feel hollow.

“Dad? Please…” She looked around at the busy dance floor, obviously not wanting to cause a scene at her aunt’s wedding.

“You stay away from her.”

Before I knew it I was being marched out the doors by the scruff of my smart white shirt. I lost my footing and stumbled onto the paved stones lining the front of the building. I fell forward but just managed to stay standing, turning on my heels to face the man that chucked me out on my ass for the second time in my life.

“I told you to stay away.” He spat at me like I was dirt, I didn’t know how to explain to him I was sorry for everything.

“I can’t… I love her.” It took everything I could to stop my voice from breaking.

“You lost that privilege when you broke her heart. You’ll never get her back.”

“I’d like to find that out for myself, thanks Dave.” The only person I needed to hear that from was Y/N herself.

I never meant to hurt her, and she needed to know. Before another word was uttered he reached out and slapped me hard across the face. It sounded worse than it felt but my vision spun as I touched my sore cheek in shock.

“Feel better?” I’ve been hit harder before, he has a weak swing.

The man in front of me seethed, his shoulders heaving up and down. He scoffed and shook his head at the ground.

“You’re a waste of space, Hood. I’m her father,” He took a few steps towards me but I stayed put, staring him down, “Do you understand what that means? I guess not, seeing as yours left you. I actually care for my daughter, and out of you and me, she will always pick me.”

My fists curled at my sides and I could hear my heartbeat ringing in my ears. He was fighting dirty and it took everything I had not to punch the 50-something square in the jaw.

“See, that’s the difference between us,” I said through gritted teeth, “I’d never make her choose.”
He didn’t say anything else, just huffed and gave me a dirty look before making his way towards the muted music emanating from the wedding reception. I spat on the ground as he walked away, clenching my jaw before walking towards the wall of the fancy hotel and kicking it hard. I raised my fist and let it hover close to the brick and cement, furrowing my brows deeply and trying to reason with myself hoping my anger wouldn’t take over like it has done so many times before.

There she was. Saving me from myself yet again.

“We shouldn’t be alone together bab-” I stopped short, dropping my head and sighing before finally working up the courage to look at her.

She looked ethereal. Her dress hugged her in all the right places and the crimson colour matched her parted lips. I studied every element of her face, afraid that after tonight I’d never see her again.


“I’m sorry… about him.” You spoke, tentatively taking a step closer to the dark haired boy brooding in the shadows of the sun just beginning to set.

He looked good, his smart shirt had become crumpled - no thanks to your fathers rough handling - and was messily untucked from his ripped skinny jeans. His curly hair was sticking up on end due to his habit of running his fingers through it. Your eyes flitted down to his full pink mouth, the studs on either side of his lower lip instinctively making you pull your own through your bottom teeth. He raised his pierced eyebrow at you, reading you like a book and making you feel slightly insecure. He always knew what you were thinking, and right now that would be dangerous, because he looked even more gorgeous than he did a year ago.

“I don’t care about him, I want to know how you are. I didn’t mean to–”

You had forgotten how hypnotising his lips were.

“I thought you would come back for me,” You interjected, you had to stop him talking or you were sure you’d jump back into the arms of the boy who broke your heart, “When I heard that you left I didn’t know what to do. I–” You swallowed back the lump in your throat, Calum was an arms length away now, like he was being drawn to you, “I cried for days.” As you spoke your voice cracked and your tough exterior came crumbling down, tears slowly rolling down your face.

You felt strong arms around you, cradling you. You looked up at Calum through your wet eyelashes.

“I didn’t mean any of this, please,” He sounded broken, “I did come back for you, I did, I did,” He was muttering under his breath, until he fell completely silent, “Your dad stopped me seeing you… He didn’t tell you I came, did he?” He said in a faint whisper of realisation.

“W-what?” You felt dizzy.

Your father had said that Calum cursed you out, calling you awful names you didn’t want to believe. Turns out you shouldn’t have.

“He threatened me if I ever came back to your house, he said…” Calum drifted off, not wanting to upset you more.

You took a shuddering breath and pulled away from Calum’s embrace so you could look him directly in the eye. Everything you thought you knew could be wrong, you went through all that torment not because of Calum… but because of your father.

“You ignored every call I made to you in the last year. True or not true?” The stories of events that had happened last year were unravelling.
“Not true,” Calum scratched the back of his neck as he sighed and explained, “I threw my phone at a wall in a bar soon after that night, got kicked out and lost all the data. I didn’t have any money to buy a new one for months after that, when I could it was a shitty Nokia.”

“You cheated on me. True or not true?”
“What? I never– Who told you that?” Calum seemed outraged at that last accusation, it took him two seconds to join the dots, “Your dad.”

You nodded, hanging your head and staring at your feet; all the anger you had felt towards Calum dissipated. Your lungs felt like they had released a breath you’d been holding for months. The little broken boy you knew a year ago was still in front of you, still searching for a place to call home in your arms. And you were going to let him.

“You love me. True or not true?”

Your lips parted in a small gasp when you heard him ask his own question. Calum’s fingers hooked under your chin and tilted your jaw so you were gazing right at him.

“Do you even have to ask?” You could feel your heart swelling as if a fist was clutching it.

“No.” He gave you small grin, running his thumb along your bottom lip, watching your face carefully.

He looked at you as if you were fine china and he was afraid you’d shatter if he held you too tightly. You looked at him and saw art with a message only you could decipher. You held your breath as he leaned in close to you, your mouths mere centimeters apart. Closing your eyes you could feel the air from his lungs fanning across your skin as he spoke softly.

“I’ll never stop loving you.”

Your mouth broke into a small grin before he closed the gap between you two. All of a sudden it seemed as if he had been gone an hour and not a year, his lips caressing yours so expertly. Before you could stop yourself, tears were leaking down your face, you were overcome with emotion. A year of your life was wasted hating Calum for things he never did. Calum slowly withdrew from you, placing his arms on your shoulders and looking into your glassy eyes.

“Come here little girl.”

You collapsed at his words. He let you break down in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Safe.

You felt him kiss the top of your head, making you look up at the the rich dark brown colour of his eyes. No more words needed to be said, you wound your fingers into the thick curls at the back of his head and kissed him deeply. You were suddenly yearning for him. For his touch, his taste. His hands settled on your waist and held your hips tightly against his. As he did so an involuntary moan left your mouth, only encouraging the tan boy more. Tingles were igniting all over your body where your bare skin touched his and you had never felt more alive or more desperate.

“Need you.” You mumbled against his lips, a moan following your words as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and nipped gently.

Calum didn’t need persuading.

He tore himself away from you, somewhat reluctantly, and took your hand in his, beckoning you towards his car in the far part of the car park. He fumbled with the keys and unlocked the battered Jeep, letting you enter first. You felt like a kid again, making out at the back of school and trying not to get caught.

You moved to the far end of the backseat, pulling Calum in by his collar. How did someone manage to look so irresistible in just a plain white button down?

“Goddamn that shirt.” You mumbled as Calum crawled over you, smashing his lips to yours, sending a rush a wetness between your legs.

“Like it?” He grinned against your mouth, teasingly only giving you tiny kisses now.

“You know I do.” You tilted your head back so he’d start sucking on your neck.

Luckily he took the hint and began paying attention to the sweet spot near your ear, knowing it’d have you writhing. As much as you were enjoying the attention he was giving you, you felt like you had to repay the favour, you were aching to hold him. You reached and began to undo his buttons, finally pushing the fabric off his shoulders and revealing his toned torso to you. Your eyes darted across his chest, surprised to see additions to his arm of tattoos. You gently ran your fingers across the new ink, stopping Calum in his pursuit of branding your neck with his mouth.

“When did you get these?” You whispered, looking back and forth between Calum and his arm.

“Uh, a few months ago.” He shrugged, his hungry gaze fixated on your lips, making you break into a small smile.

“They’re nice.” You hummed as he ran his thumb across your lips.

“Still gotta take you to get your first.” He said, kissing your cheek gently, then your neck, then your collarbone.

You pressed your hand against his chest, backing him up and then grabbing the hem of your dress, that had ridden up to round your waist. You lifted it over your head and abandoned it on the car floor, letting Calum see you. His breath hitched when he saw what you were showing him. In small delicate ink read the word “Baby” on the left side of your torso.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at the word. He startled you when he finally moved, grabbing your waist and kissing you with his slightly swollen lips.

You succumbed to his forceful grip, letting his hips rest between your legs. You reached between your bodies and unzipped his jeans sloppily, both of you now getting desperate for real friction. Neither of you cared that Calum was still half dressed, or that you still had underwear on, you just needed each other. Now.

Calum pulled away from you, looking at you for permission as he pumped his length, his trousers barely down his thighs. You laid your hand on his, pulling him back for a deep kiss. You let out a high pitched sigh as he sunk into you, the denim still on him providing a friction against your thighs you didn’t know could feel so good. Calum stilled in you, letting you adjust and just revelling in the feeling, his head sunk into the crook of your neck. You wound your fingers in his hair as he began to move, his need for you too great for him to tease. His length was stretching you blissfully, the feeling heightening your senses and tightening you around him. Calum was thrusting fast, spurred on by your moans. You whimpered as he hit your g spot, and you bucked your hips to meet him, the fast pace he had set would mean neither of you would last long. He reached a hand down between your bodies, the muscles of his other arm straining as they fought to hold him up over you. His skilled fingers began rubbing circles on your clit, causing you to arch your back and tighten around him. His hips stuttered and he let out a wrecked groan as you did so, his fingers working overtime to get you off first.

“Gonna cum?” He asked, knowing very well the answer was yes as your mouth was fixed in a permanent ‘o’ shape, “Gonna cum for me baby?”

“Y-yes.” You choked out, your hips bucking wildly as your released with a series of loud moans.

You reached up and dragged your fingernails down Calum’s chest as you whimpered his name, your high being dragged out as he continued to pump into you. He began to let out small grunts, desperately seeking out his release until he finally let go, groaning and his arms giving way, leaving his panting form to fall onto you.

He stayed inside you, both of you holding the other in silence, knowing the inevitability of having to let go but refusing to for just a few moments longer.

“Come with me.” Calum said, swiping his dark curls from his sweaty forehead and making an effort to sit up, pulling out.

You both shuddered as he did so, still sensitive from your orgasms.

“I want to,”

“But…?” Calum said, predicting your next word forlornly.

“I have a job here, friends, family.”

“I have that on the road!” Calum protested, trying to keep his voice calm as he pleaded, “I found these guys, we’ve made a band and people are liking it. We’ve been spotted by this massive management team and… I want you to be part of it. I need you by my side, or else none of it will be worth anything. Please babe.” His voice cracked and you knew you couldn’t say no.

Who were you kidding? Your job was long hours for minimal wage, you couldn’t trust your family anymore and all your close friends had moved away for work or university.


“Okay?” He seemed stunned, but quickly a massive grin broke out on his face.

You nodded reassuringly, “Okay.” Giggling as he threw his arms around you.

“I love you.” He mumbled into your neck.

“I love you more.”

“No you don’t.”

anonymous asked:

707 being cold and harsh again to past the extent of which MC running away and crying???

Ooh angst! Luckily I have lots of experience with this sort of thing (lol) sorry. Let’s begin!!
*Note for this I did a one shot instead of hcs!

Broken Words- A Saeyoung Angst
He considered it the damned clock’s fault. If it hadn’t been for that tool of Hell this never would’ve happened. It was his birthday, another one come and gone. God he was getting old, he knew it. There was an eternal weight weighing down on his, determined to never stop. It was usually kept off his shoulders though by you; God what did he do to deserve the angel that was you. He didn’t, it was that simple. Yet will you we’re here. Through it all. At least you had been.
When the clock, in all it’s black, white, and red glory, rang he immediately felt a twinge of unhappiness. Birthday’s weren’t really his thing. He groaned, fumbling for the intricate piece on his bedroom table. The clock was an ornate piece of beauty, something you had given him to take apart; he was so grateful he couldn’t find it in him to take the machine apart. Finally finding the black steel button he pressed it a little too hard, and the clock seemed to stop awkwardly. Sighing at the prospect of him breaking something he swung his feet over the side of the bed. His feet found two very fluffy shoes, new ones from the look and smell of them. The thought made him smile, but guilt seeded in his gut and he felt dissatisfied. Why were you so nice to him? Was he worth it? What if something happened to him?
Shaking his head he stopped the thoughts abruptly. ‘No, I promised her I would stop.’ He thought, he knew that you hated that reign of terror when he had ignored you. You hadn’t abandoned him, but when it was over he swore never again no matter what.
Walking into the kitchen he smelled something sweet wafting through the air, turning his head he saw Saeran on the couch, munching on something out of Saeyoung’s perspective. Turning his head back towards the marbled counters he saw you, pajamas a wrinkled mess, watching something carefully on the stove. It was cherries, you were making some sort of syrup. He smiled, you were too kind, but again the doubt curled around his insides and he thought of the horrid months, of Mint Eye, the kidnapping, everything. What if it happened again? What if he couldn’t reach you this time? Yet here he was, acting like everything was normal, and here you were in all your kindness with the mess of a human being he was.
You turned around smiling your big, beautiful smile which lit up the whole room with a wonderful atmosphere, but despite his tries he could not bring himself to return the favor. Instead he plopped himself down in the wooden chair at the dining table. You tilted your head, obviously confused by the apathetic response he had given you in return for your joyful welcome. He watches you diligently out of the corner of his eye as you shook your head quickly and went to get the pancakes.
They looked beautiful, a golden brown, just a bit darker around the edges where the temperature had more of an impact on the fluffy batter. You brought them over on a plate that could only be described as every color known to man squished into one small piece of glassware, crudely fashioned into three very peppy balloons. You pushed the plate in front of him, and stared at them solemnly as you filled a beige porcelain pitcher with the sickly sweet syrup, bringing it over to him after, still smiling brightly. That smile, it was so full of life and hope, it didn’t deserve to be directed towards him, he didn’t deserve anything you gave him, even the pancakes felt too much.
He suddenly felt lazy and like slime that slithered onto the floor, bringing chaos and ruin with him. “Eat up!” Your voice was full of happiness and excitement, as if it was your birthday instead of his. “Oh wait! I forgot silverware!”
“No! I’ll get it!” Saeyoung suddenly stood up, rushing into the kitchen to get the fork and knives.
“But Saeyoung! It’s your day! Let me baby you for one day jeez man!” You exclaimed, running up to him.
“I’m fine.” He muttered harshly, avoiding your touch.
“Saeyoung?” You stared at him, and even though he wasn’t facing you he could tell you were hurt and confused by the sudden roughness. He wanted to shoot himself. Taking the silverware he walked back over to the table.
You followed staring daggers at him. Not in anger, no, the Lord knew it took a ton to get you angry at him. It was more pure curiosity and worry, something you insisted on doing despite his ardent protests. He tried to ignore it and kept eating. Saeran had fallen half asleep on the couch, and you were standing a little bit behind him, obviously very confused. He ate slowly, hoping you would eventually go do something. But you insisted on saying. “MC, why are you watching me eat?” He eventually said, halfway through his second pancake.
“Because I want you to have a good birthday! It’s important to me!” You said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, something which caused the coil inside him to tighten.
“What does it matter?” He said, nonchalantly and slowly. “It just a stupid date, if you want to baby someone go baby Saeran. I personally am going back to work.” He stood up and took the last pancake, barely left on the plate, to the trash, ignoring your look of obvious pain plastered on you face. He turned to empty the remains into the trash can and heard you breathe in deeply. ‘Gonna be stubborn about it are you?’ He thought cruelly. A tiny piece of him was satisfied, the part of humans that hide in shadow, waiting to crawl out.
He turned around to put the sorry excuse for a plate in the sink, but you rushed over to him, grabbing his shoulder roughly and jerking him to face you. “WHAT THE HELL MC!” He yelled, and you shrunk for a second at his outburst.
“Saeyoung what is wrong. Tell me now please.” You said, your eyes staring into his soul.
“It nothing MC.” He said, trying to shove you away, but you dug your heels in deeper.
“No Saeyoung, do not make me go through this again.” You half demanded half asked. He could tell that it still haunted you, not only in your words but in your actions, your care of being around his work, your constant affection. He knew he was shoving salt into a barely healed wound, ripping out stitches tentatively holding a person together. But at this point he didn’t care, he felt angry and invincible, adrenaline spewing through his veins. “MC. Let me pass.” He said, his voice dangerously low, a challenge and a threat. You shook your head, keeping you eyes trained on him.
“Saeyoung tell me what’s wrong, I’m not moving until you do.” He tried to move away but you let go of his shoulder and latched onto his elbow. He wriggled his hand desperately, but you weren’t having it. “MC I swear to God I’ll k-” He caught himself just in time, but you were sick if it.“
You barely had time to catch your breath before rainbow-colored glass shattered at your feet.
That was the first thing he thought when his mind caught up to what he had just done. You were standing amid glass, it circled you liked an angel of color. You stared at him, tears silently streaming out of your widened and wounded eyes. “What the Hell?!” Came a groggy voice from the couch.
“MC?” He reached out to touch you. But you shook your head and sprinted toward you shoes, slices of glass sticking into your heels. Saeyoung rushed to do anything, to stop, to apologize, but you just stepped into your flats and ran out, leaving the door half open, chucking your phone on the floor on the way out. Your breath was unbalanced, huffy, small gasps escaping it. “MC!” He called out, and rushed toward the door, but a hand stopped him. “The fu-” He turned to have Saeran slap him.
“You’re an idiot brother. You don’t deserve her.” Was all he said, before grabbing your phone, the only piece left of you in the room, and carrying it toward his room. Saeyoung knew what was going to happen. Saeran was the best hacker in existence, there’s no way he wouldn’t find where you were, all it needed was fingerprints and oils left on your phone. But it didn’t matter, you were gone.
It had been three weeks. God, what Hell had it been. Saeyoung was typing away at his computer, eyes partially glazed over as he scanned his work. Saeran was out getting groceries, a task which has fallen on him after you had left. Saeyoung didn’t really care. The energy he’d had before was just gone, drained after the birthday that ruined his last chance at happiness. He deserves it, he was awful. He kept repeating those facts, over and over again when the loneliness and pain got almost too hard to bear. Facts, those were the only facts that mattered. That and the ones that paid the bills.
The door opened, he could hear the hard creak. “Saeran did you get more chips?” He called out into the hallway, not really caring. Saeran had somehow gotten him to eat relatively well the past few weeks, but he still tended to miss a lot of lunches. Self neglect would be the best way to describe it, but who would want to feed a monster that ruined the feelings of a wonderful young woman? Exactly, no one.
“Saeran?” He called out again, huffing at he prospect of leaving his shitty, shitty work. It was nothing important, but hey; people usually buried themselves in work after the death of a loved one, and that was basically what he was living through.
Sighing of impatience he swung his bare feet, void of any slippers new or otherwise, onto the floor. Creeping toward the kitchen he shuddered as the scene replayed in his head, every time. No matter how much he attempted to bury it it was still there, like a broken film strip in his head with no one to pull it out of the machine that was his memory.
“Saeran where are you?” He called out seeing the kitchen devoid of life. “Don’t be an ass!” He called out. He knew someone had come in the door, why Saeran was hiding was beyond him. Suddenly the ring of a clock could be heard, a fresh and pure sound echoing through he deathly silence. He sprinted towards his room, God how long had it been since he’d been in his own room.
Opening the door he was sure he was entering heaven. How else could he explain it? You were there, as perfect as ever, holding the clock. It was sitting on you lap, still ringing, and you were staring at it, aware of him, but uncaring. He took a slow step forward, afraid you’d disappear if he was too abrupt or harsh. “MC.” He breathed.
You were hugging him. This was real and you were hugging him. “MC I’m so sorry, God, what did I ever do to deserve you? I’m an awful person.” He was the one crying now, and you nuzzled against him, waiting as he let his tears and confession out. “I was such an ass, you were so nice but I was just worrying about stupid things, things that won’t happen. Even then there’s no excuse. I hurt you so damn much. Why did I? Why did you come back? You deserve so much more!”
“You’re wrong Saeyoung.” You whispered, looking once more into his soul. “I love you, that will never change. You can never hurt me as much as if you weren’t there.” He smiled. There was still so much for him to apologize for. Still more brokenness words that needed to be mended and revived. But he was willing, as long as his heart was still beating he was willing. He looked at your foot. There were cuts over and a thick bandage wrapped around it. This caused him to to cry more, but you just kept hugging him. Yes, there were still so many shattered words, but hopefully one day they’d be repaired. Together you’d make it happen. He’d wait.
As long as it took for him to repent, he’d wait.

Hope ya like! Hope I didn’t kill you heart too much! Don’t worry the next one is happy! But right now I’m so damn tired! Wish me luck for finals tomorrow! Haha….😑😑

Stuck with Me - Part 2

Catch Up Here.

Originally posted by canonspngifs

Words: 1,718

A/N: Sooooo part 1 went over really well. Like WAY better than I ever thought it would, which is so amazing. And a little fucking scary honestly. I really hope you guys continue to like it. (Please let me know I’m a slut for tumblr notifications) Thank you so much for reading!!! You’re all just delicious little confidence boosting nuggets and I love you.


“Do you want me to find her?”

Sam looked across the diner’s table at Cas. Nobody had spoken about the whole soulmate debacle since that morning in the bunker. Two days. It had been two days, and even though they were on a case it was all Sam could think about. Not talking though, was the Winchester way so he kept his mouth shut.

“I don’t know Cas,” Sam answered quietly, glancing over at Dean. “I mean, we find her, then what?”

Neither one answered.

“Guys I’m serious. I’m at a loss here.”

“Look, all I know is we need to make some kind of decision. I can barely think about this damn case. We’re distracted, Sammy. Someone’s gonna get hurt if we keep this up.”

“Dean’s right. You’re both very distracted by the whole situation. I will do whatever I can to help, no matter what you choose to do, but you must choose something.”

“Ok. Ok, we find her. Just where she’s at. Don’t kidnap her or anything. Maybe if we know where she’s at it’ll help us know where to go from here?”

It shouldn’t be a question, but Sam had no clue what would help and what would make everything worse.

“Well, you heard the man Cas. Go look for Sam’s baby mama.”

After Cas left, Sam and Dean both agreed to put a lid on that situation in order to finish the case in relatively one piece. It was a salt and burn that shouldn’t be taking this long. They knew that they had to put everything about Y/N aside, at least until the case was done. They also knew they were both completely full of shit, and there was no way either was going to stop thinking about it.

At least they were on the same page.

Keep reading

Letting the Girl’s Breathe

Pairing: Dean x reader, Sam

Word Count: 2254

Warnings: Naughty language, very brief angst, crushing!reader, mainly fluff, brief nudity

Summary: You are in a jam with the police when a hunt goes a little sideways on you, in an attempt to save Dean from being arrested, you expose yourself. 

A/N: So this was for @beckawinchester challenge, my prompts were a church and the quote “You’re under arrest for public indecency!” This is what I came up with. I hope I did it justice. Also a shout out to @avasmommy224 for awesomely beta’ing this fic on short notice. Thank you. 

There was a thunderous clapping of footsteps as the men rushed up the steps after you, you were worried about the way the rickety staircase was trembling that your combined weight was going to have the whole thing crashing down underneath you. Your hand instinctively found the narrow whitewashed railing in a desperate bid to keep you safe, even though a deeper part of you knew that if the worst did happen it wouldn’t do you any good. You tried to focus your attention on something other than what was happening behind you and your eyes went straight to Dean.

Watching the way his shoulder muscles rippled underneath the thin black material of the t-shirt he was wearing and the little spots of sweat that darkened the material at the small of his back. You thought about how he was the strongest man you knew, and not just because he was physically an awesome hunter, it was something about the way he was always able to persevere through the most difficult situations, desperate to save the people he loved, that had you truly in awe of him. Right now though that feeling was slightly dwarfed by the predicament that he had gotten you into, and you were feeling vaguely annoyed.

“What are we going to do?” Dean said as he turned to face you at the top of the staircase.

Keep reading

Third Times A Charm (Part 3) - Jughead x Reader

Originally posted by hellomadzstuff

The third time I saw her, I was devastated. It felt as though I had been stabbed in the chest, piecing into my heart and sucking the life out of me. I was stunned, shocked, flabbergasted and yet, I couldn’t do anything about it.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to turn around, run out those doors and never look back. Maybe mum and Jellybean would want to see me? Toledo isn’t that far away. I felt lost, humiliated but there’s nothing I can do to fix it. I don’t owe her anything, I can’t say something. It isn’t my place.

If she wants to sit there and ruin her life by doing the one thing I never thought would happen then, I didn’t know her at all, not really. I thought we had become friends, maybe even more then friends but I guess I was wrong.

Silence filled my ears as I continue wondering aimlessly down the dark halls of the school. Quick footsteps break my calming silence and a sudden tap on my shoulder break me out of my thought. I already know who it is but I turn around anyway. Turning around, I come face to face with (Y/N) in all her glory. Normally, I’d smile at her adorable eyes and cute little smile, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, not after what I just witnessed.


I was on my way to the blue and gold, travelling down the bleak and drab hallway of this unwelcoming school. It was late in the afternoon, school had finished and nearly everyone had gone home. I was peacefully walking down the hall when I noticed the boy’s locker room lights were still on. Curious, I walked towards the door and was about to turn the lights off when I heard voices talking.

“I know baby, I know” the voice spoke. It was deeper, more masculine. I instantly recognised it as Chucks. I immediately felt sorry for the girl I knew was in the locker room because I can tell that Chuck doesn’t like her. He only wants her for one thing and one thing only.

“You don’t get it Chuck…” I heard. This soft voice which I could barely hear begin to speak. The voice was one of an angel, sent by the gods to grace us with her beauty. There’s only one voice I know as melodic as that. (Y/N)’s.

Why does this not surprise me? When will this buffoon give up!? He knows she’s not interested in him and hates his guts, so why keep trying?

Balling my fists and taking a deep breath, interest got the best of me and I had to see what was exactly going on. I peak my head around the corner and see (Y/N) pressed up against the locker and Chuck inching closer towards her. He had this intense look in his eyes and I knew what was about to happen. (Y/N) was going to push him away, give him a piece of her mind and storm off, leaving a frazzled Chuck to contemplate his life.

I waited and waited but that never came. Chuck keep getting closer and closer and my temper was growing shorter but my legs were stiff and I couldn’t move.

Suddenly, Chuck closed the gap between them with a kiss. The force of this kiss pushed her harshly into the lockers behind her, a loud bang rung in my ears as I watched the horrific scene unfold. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around waist and running his fingers through her hair. Her arms were pushed flat up against his chest with no chance of escape.

As per usual, I was looking in her eyes for any sign of fear, or annoyance or anything but to my dismay, I see nothing. Her eyes are pressed shut and she looks like she may be enjoying this. I cannot even bear to look at Chuck and how much I know he is enjoying this right now!

I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt like I was going to vomit or pass out or both. I had to get out of here. I abruptly turned around ready to sprint out of here when I accidently knocked over a bin causing a loud crash to slice through the awkward silence.

Leaving the bin, I brusquely walk out down the hallway, ready to leave the school, go home and punch something, preferably chuck!

*End of flashback*

“Hey Jug, what’s wrong?” She asks so sweetly, her voice wavering ever so slightly. I stared at her features and how stunning they were. How her (Y/E/C) eyes shone bright and stared into my soul, how when she frowns her eyebrows knit together causing cute little lines on her forehead to appear and how when I look at her lips and just how much I want to grab her and kiss her so passionately, it nearly kills me.

But, when I look at her lips, I notice how her lipstick is smudged and I picture that god-awful kiss shared between her and he who shall not be named.

“Oh, nothing” I replied briefly, thoughts swarming around inside my head. “I was just leaving,” I turned around to leave, saying anything to get me out of this situation. “Wait, Juggie?” She asked, grabbing my hand and spinning me around to face her. She looked so hurt by my actions but I was too exhausted to care.

“I know you saw that. But I-I can-n explain! I was just trying to use the bathroom when-“ She mumbled quickly, trying to explain the horror I had just witnessed.

“Look (Y/N), I’m not gonna ask what you did with Chuck in the Locker room, but I’m asking you now right now, if you feel something, anything for me (Y/N)? I thought we had connected, I like you and I thought we had something special, but I guess not. I can’t do this anymore, I’m sorry.” I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I had just done the one thing I swore I would never do, pour my heart out to a girl and majorly embarrass myself.

“Jug, of course I like you. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks and I feel like I’ve known you my whole life! I like you so much, more than anything else in this world, I like you more than I like myself right now but…” she sighed, “I can’t give you the answer you want!” She yelled, tears welling in her eyes but I could see her determinated not to let them fall.

“Why?” I ask, confused as to what she’s referring to.

“I just- I don’t know, you are so amazing to me! You have already done so much for me and that I am grateful for but like I said I can’t give you the answer I know you’re hoping!” It’s like flood gates had opened and tears were just spilling over, no signal that they were going to stop anytime soon.

“Don’t do that! Don’t push me away!” I whispered tenderly, grabbing a hold of her hand only for her to rip it away. “I WILL RUIN YOU! Everything I touch shatters into a thousand pieces and you Jughead Jones are not something I want broken” She cries.

“How will you break me!?” I shout, once again confused by her words. “You are so perfect. I’ve never been good enough for you, I’ll never be good enough for you! I am the Wednesday Adams looking freak who trolls the internet like the scrawny mutant I have always been!” I sigh, “Look, you can push me away, shove me for all I care but I will never, ever stop caring about you! So, you can run off to Chuck, be with him but just know that when he breaks your heart like I know he will and when you come running back to me, I will be there to pick up the pieces and put you back together again” I cry, actual tears slipping from my eyes. I was so exposed right now and normally I’d retreat back into my own world and close back off again but this time it was different, she made me different. She made me better.

I was exhausted. Emotionally and physically drained and I had to get out of here. “(Y/N), I can’t do this anymore. I think its best if we just don’t see each other anymore, it’s too painful. I’m sorry.”

Turning once again I begin to make my way down the long corridor for what I hope would be the last time tonight. Wiping away the last of my tears I shove my hands in my pockets and gingerly walk towards the exit.

“I DON’T LOVE CHUCK, I LOVE YOU!” She screamed and I paused. Turning around slowly I let her continue. “I know we only just met and we both have so much baggage but, I love you Jug.” (Y/N) said as she walked towards me wearing the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.

This was it. I was not letting her go this time. We were both staring at each other, eyes flicking to and from the other’s lips. I took a chance, I took two large steps forward and crashed my lips into hers. A spark ignited and fireworks exploded around us. As cliché as it sounds I felt like the whole world had stopped. Placing my hands tentatively on her face I pulled (Y/N) closer and she did the same.

Pulling away we stared at each other. All was quiet until a giggled erupted from her lips and a crimson red blushed formed on her perfect cheeks. “(Y/N), I love you too,” I reply, taking her hand in mine and pressing a light kiss against her forehead. We began to walk towards the exit, together this time. Hand in hand, side by side. Together.

“Please don’t tell me I have to beat up chuck again?” I laughed, poking her side. She squirmed away from me but my grip on her hand kept her in place. “I don’t think my knuckles can withstand a beating like that again!” She laughed, snorting in the process.

We walked out of the school gates that day, both broken, battered and beaten but content.

I was never really a superstitious person. I didn’t believe in walking under ladders or that seeing a black cat was an omen of bad luck but, ever since I met you that changed. I still don’t really believe in luck, or hope but I do believe that meeting you was lucky and that she is my good luck charm, my rabbits foot, my lucky sock, my one and only love.

anonymous asked:

i just re watched beyond the mat and i think its very sweet that dean had just lost cas in the previous episode, and gets nervously flirty(?) around lawless - and then a season on got awkward and flirty around a waitress. just wanted to appreciate deans bi vibes with this ask but now im wondering if the writers are being constant w dean using coping mechanisms to avoid his worry about cas! :0


Ahh, Beyond the mat, another fantastic Dabb episode :)

I mean, Dean’s coping mechanisms have been the same pretty much for the whole series which I really enjoy, it means it’s easier to pick up on the subtle evolution over time…

For me there are three main coping mechanisms for Dean: hunting, sex and food

In season 3 when he knows he is dying he goes straight to find the bendiest one night stand of his life, he eats cheeseburgers like there’s no tomorrow (because there isn’t) for example and hunts, hunts, hunts. These continue throughout the seasons but there is a steady, interesting change over time.

During the pestilence episode it’s hammered home to us what his coping mechanisms are in the fact that he doesn’t succumb because he is a whole heap of ‘nothing’ inside and suicidal… the metaphor is showing us that actually what he is desperate for is not to have these coping mechanisms.

We also know that Dean is a bit of a neat freak in his own space from s8 and glimpses into how he folds his clothes in the back of Baby in 12x04 etc. We also know that he is in fact an excellent cook, enjoys ‘nesting’ in the bunker, thinks Jeoffrey is a dick…

These are fantastic metaphors, even more so now in ‘season fanfic 12′, thanks to Dabb encouraging the use of past subtext on to another level, Chuck bless him. He’s used food, sex, hunting, cleanliness and so much more to show the nuances in Dean this season *whispers I love you Dabb*!

I’ll go into the sex part now as that’s what you prompted me about :)

Originally posted by deanandcasstuff

It’s really interesting to see how he interacts with his one night stands throughout the seasons and I think there is a really clear reading that is become more and more obvious, culminating with 12x18 with what it is showing the audience about Dean and his emotional side.

Now I’m going to delve into these one night stands a little deeper and it shows a clear arc for Dean…

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey, earlier today i sent an ask in wich i was asking about your opinion on leafpool, cuz she just miiight be one of my favourite characters. I'm not here to beg you to answer it, but I didn't have internet when i sent it, so it's quite possible that it didn't make it i guess. So i sent this just to be sure (if you've seen it tough, just pretend this doesn't exist, lol). Also, i'm not trying to put pressure on you, you answer it if you want to ofc

Hi there! I’m afraid your lack of internet connection might indeed have played a part here, because I cannot find your original ask in my list at all. 

But as for the question in and of itself… sadly, my opinion of Leafpool isn’t very good. Has never been, and probably never will be, unless she’s rehashed from the ground up. My memory is a little fuzzy, but I remember the main points as to why I don’t like her. 

She wasn’t outright bad from the start to me, she felt pretty boring however, as this “perfect medicine cat apprentice” with the -special- StarClan connection; that stank of preferential treatment a long way off, and didn’t make for an interesting pov. And going by how good and perfect she supposedly was, it was then very disappointing to see how she showed no skill to reflect this - of course at the given time she was just an apprentice, but she has never been a -superb- medicine cat, even as she became older. Good enough, yes, but not one that you would cheer as “omigosh that’s some genius.” And there was nothing epic about her StarClan connection either, her visions weren’t stronger than anyone else’s (except Cinderpelt and that was frankly just unfair fuck you StarClan) and what it really meant was that StarClan had shit lined up for her in the future, nothing more. 

But I am of the firm belief that among so many others, Leafpool too, has been very mistreated by her authors. They launch her as the perfect medicine cat, one who is supposedly breathing and dreaming healing, who actually feels the calling. And for a moment you think that yes, we’ll have a medicine cat who’s not going to break the code, oh joy~

Alas, no. Instead they ship Leafpool down the forbidden romance lane, and it’s all been there done that before, and given that they make her a… how did I put it last, a “candy-coated stalker” for Crowfeather… did not help matters. It wasn’t so much a story of young love as it was this lonely little medicine cat who got so hung up about WindClan’s no. 1 emo. For basically no other reason than how she felt so bad for him losing Feathertail and it was oh-so sad. And because far back in her heart she regrets her med-cat choice and wishes she can have babies. Now THAT I don’t hold against her, honestly I NEVER understood why med-cats shouldn’t be allowed to take mates?? “They have to care for the whole clan and be objective” PFFFFF yeah lol as if that’s realistic. Unless you’re emotionally closed off or a complete stranger with no in-clan connections it just doesn’t work that way. And it would totally have worked if you had an established system, say a med-cat can take a mate and even have babies, so long as they either have a living mentor/co-med-cat, or a healthy and promising apprentice that can fill in during those two moons the med-cat is busy with their young. (After they’re weaned they can basically go back to work, they’ll still be in camp most of the day so the kittens wouldn’t even feel so lonely) See, that’s not so hard it is? We saw snippets of how it could have worked in Yellowfang’s Secret, when she had Brokenkit in the med-cat den. No need to rain brimstone over something so natural as wanting children. 

Also the whole med-cat celibacy rule got such a dreadfully bad basis with Moth Flight’s book, like… okay so she cannot deal with her responsibilities and having babies, and for that reason, she has to take the chance away from every other med-cat in existence?? “If I can’t have it, you can’t either!!” You’re not telling me your heart didn’t break on Acorn Fur’s behalf in that shitty book. 

Ahem… back to Leafpool. So yes, she’s a stepping mat for the Erins, and they’ve always done with her as they please, without a thought. They make her out to be this noble, “woe-is-me-I-made-a-bad-decision” but instead it came off as Leafpool never fully willing to face up to her own actions, and making it sound more self-sacrifical than it actually was. For one moment she’s ready to ditch the clans but then she can’t go through and so comes crawling back; it would have been more interesting if she had the guts to own up her mistake properly - it’s not like ThunderClan could have chucked her out anyway, given she was their last remaining med-cat. And she’d still have her supportive sister, and there would’ve been no need for all the secrecy and the BULLYING of Squirrel in Leafpool’s Wish. 

That book was horrid. How the Erins could even believe their readers still bought how Leaf and Squirrel were such close sisters after that disaster, I don’t know… Leaf gets to shove all her responsibility on her sister’s shoulder, who can’t disagree because StarClan thinks this is the perfect moment to shatter all her hopes by saying “LOL it’s not like you’re barren or anything so if you don’t take these kittens you’ll never have any - oups!” Thank you. That’s so kind. Barbaric is what it was, a disgusting action, and the worst part is that Leaf takes almost no time to reflect on this. She’s become a key figure in a wound her sister will bear the rest of her life, but she’s too scared of losing her med-cat position to even care. Thanks sister. Not so much as a single word of comfort. 

But they always felt more pity for Leafpool than they ever did her sister. It’s Leafpool who is this sadface all of PoT, inbetween her cruel jabs at Jayfeather (I get she was scared of showing him any maternal sides but honestly, derision and assholery isn’t a very good alternative, and there’s no excuse for it) and her “mystical acting” bc she can’t act to save her life honestly. Because again, pity and burdens are important parts of Erin’s favoured characters, and if you got nothing of that, you got nothing to expect either. 

Also what I don’t get is how people hail her as such a good mother, which we have no proof of. It seemed that in the time between giving birth to them, to getting “re-acquainted” with the kittens as apprentices, Leafpool’s maternal instincts had all but wilted and died. And that would be fine with me - she chose her profession, she made that conscious choice, so of course she would try to rid herself of any lingering emotions - and if she succeeded at that, then all kudos to her. She was looking forward to a lifetime without her children ever knowing her; being stone-faced about it would afterall have been the better alternative, no? But no, not enough drama in that. The authors were always so eager to promote her as the loving mother who sacrificed everything, when the character herself had given up any claim to the title. She’d left the raising and loving of her children to her sister, who was the one they really regarded as their mother, biological or no. And Leafpool would have accepted that, if it weren’t for how the Erins had to constantly chuck her into awkward scenes with them where the only thing we got out of it, was how uncomfortable she was become with the whole idea of herself as a mother. 

So like… I think I would have liked Leafpool better if the Erins hadn’t felt the need to stamp on other characters in order to “lift” her up to this weird saintly level, and if her development had been more stable than sporadic, in that it was mainly based on where she fit best in drama. Because then it becomes apparent that Leafpool in a casual setting, just pales, disappears; there, she has nothing to do, because the Erins only gave her a reaction pattern for pulsing drama, not everyday life. And that’s just not fair. 

Chuck Bass Analysis

A few weeks ago, I got the chance to read an article about shame-based personalities that immediately made me think about Chuck and I decided to take the time to write an essay about it. I’ll be using lines from the article to write this dissertation, which means it’s only right to credit it. You can find it here. The blog has many fascinating psychology articles; if you’re interested in the subject you should definitely follow it.

As the article I’m referring to explains, blaming and shaming a person are two different things. While blaming someone implies recognizing a fault in the person’s behavior, shaming someone isn’t about guilt or responsibility; it doesn’t require the person to do something that the accuser interprets as a mistake. Instead, shaming means affirming there’s something wrong with the person accused; in other words, the fault doesn’t lie in the person’s actions, but rather in their personality.

Before I begin exposing my thoughts regarding how and why Chuck’s personality was built through a dysfunctional shaming process, it must be said that both the aspects I’ve mentioned – blame and shame – played a role in his life.

For most of his life, Chuck has lived with a shattering sense of guilt coming from the conviction he had killed his mother by coming to life. I tend to think Bart has never really put into words this accusation, but it is sure that, as a child and later on as a teenager, Chuck read this through the lines of his father’s detachment. Consciously and not, Chuck learnt to consider himself responsible for his mother’s death, because the explanation he gave himself helped him to give a meaning to the emotional and psychological abuse he was subjected to.  

That being said, the guilt he took is a “blameless” one; in fact, it might be more accurately described as an original sin, a visceral, ancestral fault that has nothing to do with responsibility (even if Elisabeth had actually died giving birth, the baby wouldn’t have been guilty of her destiny). 

This irrational, inconsistent and implicit accusation suggests that there’s something terribly and irremediably flawed in Chuck, it somehow hints to the fact that his role in the world is to destroy – and metaphorically, to kill (“He hated me. It makes sense if his beloved wife died giving birth to me. Sometimes I swear he thinks I killed her” Chuck, from 2X05)

It is likely that, in truth, Bart blamed Chuck for the simple fact that he was Elizabeth’s son – the woman who had cheated on him and eventually left him to raise a child he probably didn’t even want. In Bart’s mind, having her as a mother was enough to make him a worthless and inadequate person – and irreversibly. This “definitive verdict” is indeed expressed through the story he told Chuck: not only Elizabeth “died”, but she was also “killed” by her own son. It’s a vision that allowed Bart to hate them both and set Chuck for being an eternal disappointment to his eyes.

It is definitely a form of shaming.  The article mentions a few examples of shaming statements, which sound very similar to many things Bart told his son all the way through the series:

• “You were a mistake; I wish I’d never had you.” || “No matter how I’ve tried to turn you into a man, it still remains the one, big failure of my life” (6X09)

• “You’re useless; you’ll never amount to anything.” || “Nice gesture, but misguided as usual” (2X10), “I haven’t seen anything in the last year that suggests you have what it takes. If anything, you’ve been a disappointment” (3X12)

“You’ve ruined my life; you ruin everything for everyone” || “Bart thought it would be better if the family bonded without me for a while” (1X14), “Letting people down is your forte” (2X10), “Every time I think we’re making progress, you show your true colors” (2X12).

 According to the article, adults shamed in childhood have some traits that I recognized in Chuck as well. I’ll mention each of them and try to see how they showed in his behavior. 

1. They are afraid to share their true thoughts and feelings with others.

This first trait is pretty obvious in Chuck’s characterization. However, truth to be told, his difficulty in sharing his thoughts and feelings is only the tip of the iceberg.

Chuck is indeed emotionally crippled. He doesn’t simply have issues when it comes to conveying his feelings; his problems start with his inability to recognize them and then accept them. Season 1 is all about it; Chuck can’t give a name to what he feels for Blair (“I feel sick, like there’s something in my stomach…fluttering”) and when she hurts him, he can’t metabolize the pain he feels and ends up hurting her as well in a way that is absolutely childish – an act of spite.

This is obviously the outcome of an education intended to make him think of feelings as weaknesses. Chuck grew up with the idea that detachment meant strength, while displaying emotions – or even having emotions – was a synonym of vulnerability. And vulnerability was the ultimate fault, the one thing Bart could have never accepted.  

Episode 3X12 (but, in general, season 3) is pretty enlightening in this sense, because it gives us an accurate idea of how Chuck has always interpreted his father’s behavior and words – and, as we’ll find out later on, his view of Bart was sadly truthful.

The Bart Chuck sees condemns his love for Blair (“You opened your heart to Blair and that made you weak”), for it makes him immature and unsuitable for being the businessman he is expected to become. The image of Bart tells Chuck he doesn’t have “what it takes”. This conviction Chuck can’t let go of is so weighty and so deeply rooted that it will be one of the reasons that will lead him to betray Blair in order to save The Empire – “I did what I had to to win. I couldn’t let my feelings cost me all that I’ve built” (3X17).

As I said, Chuck’s perception of his father was exact. In episode 5X24 it becomes clear that he judges his son’s love for Blair and in general his feelings as a demonstration of his irresponsibility other than what keeps him from being a “great man” and from “growing up”.

It’s only logical to assume that Bart’s reiterated insistence to urge Chuck to repress his emotions and, overall, his disdain for the mere existence of those feelings and the consequential shaming, led Chuck to try to suppress them as much as he could.

The constant repression is something I’ll talk about later in the essay while analyzing other traits. Though, it is important to underline the fact that Chuck tends to keep his emotions under control through a rigid process of suppression, until he can’t contain them anymore. This implies that when he finds himself unable to shut down his feelings, they tend to blow up in a devastating way – for himself and for those close to him.

It’s something that, with time, Chuck definitely learnt to handle better. It was indeed one of the crucial points of his growth; he still tends to diminish his feelings, but he manages to cope with them in a healthier way. By the end of the series, for example, he is able to accept Blair’s support and to contain the shame he feels towards his weaknesses; it doesn’t happen right away and it takes patience from her and also the special delicacy she reserves him, but eventually he lets her in fully (check this scene from episode 6X08).

However, Blair remains one of his few exceptions. He is only able to show his vulnerability to a very restricted group of people who he is able to trust. Outside his “circle of trust”, he is still an especially cold and detached person – and I assume a pretty ruthless business man too.

2. They are terrified of intimacy and put up walls in relationships. They also fear  commitment as they expect to be rejected.

You couldn’t handle feelings,” Blair tells Chuck in episode 3X12, giving us, as usual, the most precise insight on him and his difficulties dealing with emotions. Nevertheless, she comforts him, reminding him that he’s “not like that anymore” and that he’s “becoming a man in a way that his father never was”.

It is absolutely true. In spite of his fear of weaknesses, Chuck has feelings; he cares, loves and is exposed to deep emotions. He is, though, used to block them, out of shame and fear; fear of vulnerability, but also fear of the feelings themselves, of their meaning and their consequences.

The basic consequence of caring is the construction of a bond with another person, with all the risks that come with it – dependence, pain, abandon. Accepting to have feelings for someone means accepting the possibility of rejection and rejection is, to Chuck, absolutely terrifying. One of the most insightful quotes that explicates it is from episode 2X01. Trying to explain Blair why he didn’t spend the summer with her and abandoned her, he says: “I was scared you’d see…me.

Here lies the core of Chuck’s personality: the conviction that no one could love him for who he is, for he is impossible to love and also impossible to “fix”. He is irremediably broken, a destined to disappoint.

The article I’m referring to also mentions that people with shame based personalities struggle with feeling of worthlessness and often feel ugly and flawed. In Chuck’s case, this is the consequence of a growth and an existence that has always been marked by rejection. “Unfortunately, all I know if what he didn’t want,” he says, talking about his father, “which is me”.

Chuck’s deep self-esteem issues have their origin in the way he’s been shamed and neglected all the way through his childhood. As a result, he is honestly convinced of his inadequateness and of its invariability. The lack of value he sees in himself is deeply characterizing; it guides, sometimes subtly and sometimes blatantly, most of his actions and decisions. For example, he was incapable of waiting for Blair on the top of the Empire State Building because he expected her not to come, since he didn’t think he deserved her arrival. I don’t want to discuss whether his thoughts were valid or not; it’s simply not the topic of this essay. What I’m trying to point at is that it was tragically easy for Chuck to believe that she didn’t love him anymore.

Inevitably, starting from these presuppositions, commitment and especially intimacy become incredibly scary to Chuck. It’s not the dedication and the faithfulness they require that scares him; Chuck is, indeed, a profoundly devoted and loyal person (he values family, he has never cheated, he gives importance to long lasting friendships). Instead, his fright has its origin in the changeable nature of relationships: they’re hazards, they bring with them the possibility of being abandoned.

Only that, to Chuck, abandon isn’t a mere possibility, it is almost a certainness. Trusting that people he loves won’t leave him is incredibly hard to him, since abandon has been a constant in his life. He expects to be abandoned – and, according to him, rightfully so. People who leave him are justified by his worthlessness and their decision to give up on him is only logical.

This partially explains why he is so forgiving; recognizing people’s faults and responsibilities is almost superfluous to him, since, in some ways, he fundamentally thinks he deserves to be hurt. In this sense, it is important to mention how Chuck never really stopped justifying Elizabeth’s behavior; by the end of season 6, in spite of all the pain she caused him, he still hadn’t completely given up on contacting her (5X19), he still had her picture in his room and the combination to his strongbox was still her birthday’s date.

In some ways, this is also connected to the lack of love and affection that sadly marked his growth; he craves to be loved so much and, at the same time, he expects so little from those who are supposed to love him that he’s willing to take whatever he can get from them and to excuse even the most horrible betrayals (see how he allowed Jack to come back into his life). Every bit of care and respect look almost miraculous to him.

As the article explains, another fundamental trait in shame-based personalities is a debilitating false guilt. As I mentioned at the beginning of the essay, guilt plays a central role in Chuck’s life. Though he isn’t shy and definitely doesn’t pay attention to people’s judgement, he does tend to feel responsible even when he’s not. Similarly to what happens with his tendency to forgive, Chuck also expects to be accused and accepts the way people blame him, even when he has no faults.

This ingrained sense of guilt, which clearly has its roots in the childhood and the teenage years spent living with the thought of having caused his mother’s death, leads to the conviction of being unable to make the woman he loves happy. Each time he lest Blair go, he does it because he is genuinely persuaded that he’ll end up ruining their relationship and making her miserable; he keeps giving up on her to give her the chance to be with a better man, a less troubled, lighter person.

3.  They may be narcissistic and act as if they have it all together; alternatively, they may be completely selfless, almost to the point of being a doormat.

Both aspects of this trait show through Chuck’s behavior, since, as it often happens, his actions and his perception of himself tend to be extremely polarized and sometimes even contradictory – he goes to extremes.

He builds and invincible persona, “Chuck Bass”, who is powerful, indifferent, perfectly controlled; Chuck Bass is the façade he presents to the world, it’s his vanity, his mania of grandeur, it’s the self-satisfaction he feels when he’s called infamous, it’s his egocentrism and his arrogance. It shows through his eclectic style, through the self-celebratory way he conducts his business (his hotel is “The Empire” and it’s permeated with his notorious reputation), through the way he indulges the sort of legend created around his name. He enjoys his fame, his influence and he’s power hungry. Though somewhat more superficial, none of these aspects are pretended; Chuck can actually be self-centered, self-important, he can be haughty, cold and unscrupulous.

Yet, at the same time, he is incredibly fragile and he is often incapable of recognizing his value. Sometimes, actually, his selflessness is so extreme that he becomes quite literally “self – less”, meaning that he reaches such a worrying level of self-loathe that he ends up neglecting himself; his needs, his ambitions, his desires, even his entire personality (the beginning of season four is the most blatant example of this dysfunctionality, but part of this behavior is also recognizable through season five). He is haunted by the thought people would be happier if he was out of their lives.

4. They have a pervasive sense of loneliness and always feel like outsiders (even when others genuinely like and love them).

This trait is noticeable and inevitably linked with the ones previously mentioned. Reluctant to share his feelings and scared of building meaningful bonds with people, Chuck is profoundly reserved. Though he enjoys an active social life (parties, galas, ecc) and he is capable of being sociable (he is, among other things, also a hotel and clubs owner, so it is necessary), he still doesn’t let people get too close; he constantly maintains a distance between himself and the world and he often prefers spending time alone.

It must be underlined that Chuck is an especially selective person. Since trusting people comes so difficult to him, he tends to maintain a few but very solid relationships. As I’ve already mentioned, he defines a circle of trust – one that is terribly difficult to enter and, at the same time, almost impossible to exit.

Making a quick analysis of his relationships, it’s clear how discriminating and at the same time how devoted he is: Blair isn’t simply the only woman he’s ever loved, she’s also the only one he considered building a life with; Nate has been his best friend since they were five and Chuck has never showed the need to create the same kind of bond with anyone else; once he let Lily in, he never stepped back and was actively part of her family – he’s never stopped treating Serena and Eric as his siblings.

That being said, even with his most trusted people, Chuck is still hesitant when it comes to letting his guard down and allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of them. Even Blair, who is definitely the person he trusts the most, occasionally can’t reach him; she has to find a way to connect with him – sometimes she uses sex to get in touch with his blocked emotions.

As a result, Chuck has an inclination to isolate himself, since he considers his feelings incomprehensible and unacceptable; to his eyes, they’re too dark and too horrible. This idea leads him to the conviction that he shouldn’t share them and that he should deal with them alone. Aware of this belief, both Lily and Blair, actually, felt the need to remind him that they wouldn’t have left even in front of his worst moments (“The worst thing you’ve ever done, the darkest thought you’ve ever had, I will stand by you through anything” – Blair, from 2X13, “No matter how ugly and dark your feelings may be, you shouldn’t have to bear them alone. My love for you is unconditional” – Lily, from 5X10).

5. They are often defensive and find it hard to bear the slightest criticism. They feel as if they are being constantly watched and judged.

This trait mainly comes out through Chuck’s attitude towards business and work. He is extremely exigent with himself and incapable of considering failure as a sometimes inevitable part of life. He’s a perfectionist and has Stakhanovism problem. Being driven by an ambition that isn’t completely healthy, Chuck expects the best from himself and has a tendency to push himself too hard to reach his goals. The first few episodes of season 3 are a good example of this behavior. In episode 3X02 Chuck tells Serena: “My father turned his first profit by the time he was 22. I hope to do it by the time I’m 21.”

The fact that Bart is Chuck’s basis for comparison is a crucial element to analyze how this personality trait presents itself. His need to thrive and his greed for success partially have their origin in his fear to disappoint his father. Even after Bart’s “death”, Chuck kept trying to please him through his dedication to business; he was constantly trying to live up to the expectations Bart had.

Driven by his tendency to forgive and by his desperate need to justify his father’s faults, Chuck built, over the years, some sort of idealized image of Bart: the perfect business man, the person he was supposed to become but couldn’t – because of his weakness. And when, by the end of season four, this twisted view of Bart shattered, Chuck found himself having to survive a deep existential crisis. “Everything I believed about my father,” he says in episode 4X20, “everything I thought I wanted to be, what I needed to be for him, it was all based on lies.

The article also describes people with a shame based personalities as adults who tend to feel judged and controlled. It is important to say that, being a libertine, Chuck generally ignores people’s judgement when it comes to his morality, to his way of living and to his values. This careless attitude, though, has a few essential exceptions.

The first exceptions are Blair and Lily. Chuck truly values their judgements and not only when they’re positive. Since he respects them and feels supported and understood by them, he’s willing to accept even their criticisms. Their opinions and advice have a positive effect on him and they generally manage to encourage him and make him feel better about himself – or, at least, to question his actions. The key of his trust and respect for them lies in the way he knows that behind their words there are acceptance and care. Their loyalty and their affection isn’t necessarily linked with his actions – they would always forgive him and love him for who he is rather than for what he does.

Bart, however, represents a negative exception. His judgement, whether actual or simply imagined by Chuck, influences Chuck’s behavior through fear of rejection

In some ways, for a long time, Chuck lived with the perpetual feeling of being tested by this unreachable man he had to satisfy (“It’s like he’s setting me up to fail from beyond the grave” Chuck, 2X15). In other words, Chuck turned his successes into a mean to finally conquer his father’s love and acceptance and his failures into confirmations that he didn’t deserve his father’s approval and affection. In both cases, affection – or lack of it – is linked to an action; Chuck’s personality, indeed, remains intolerable for Bart.  

6.  They tend to block their feeling through compulsive behaviors

I will start by stating, just to be clear, that Chuck isn’t an addict. As I said, everything in Chuck’s life is subjected to a rigid repression; and it definitely includes his use of drugs and his drinking. Under normal circumstances, even though he is a drinker and an occasional drug user, Chuck keeps his vices controlled.

That being said, it is true that, during moments of profound crisis, we saw him losing control and showing compulsive behaviors intended to keep him from feeling a pain he couldn’t handle. It especially happens when Chuck has to deal with loss – since he can’t elaborate it, he suppresses his emotions however he can (abusing alcohol and drugs, meaningless sex, ecc). At the beginning of season five, the repressed pain of losing Blair causes him to detach from his emotions in such a deep way that he becomes unable to feel anything – even physically. 

It also must be mentioned that, for a long time, Chuck has had almost no respect for his life. Though the only time he was actually suicidal was after Bart’s “death” (2X14), he still showed till season five a dangerous carelessness with his health and with the value of his existence. He was often reckless and irresponsible; to use his own words from 3X22, he “didn’t care if he lived or died”.

His attitude towards sex, though, is probably the clearest example of a compulsive behavior implemented to suffocate feelings.

There’s no shame in sex and it’s not my intention to judge anyone’s sex life as right or wrong. Chuck was a precocious boy; he had his first sexual experience at the age of eleven, he is a very sexual, passionate person and eroticism certainly has an important role in his life. He enjoys sex and he’s completely open-minded about any kind of practices in this area.

However, it’s undeniable that he also uses sex to kill the pain. Generally, to Chuck, sex and intimacy don’t coincide. He doesn’t establish a connection with his sexual partners; he never sees them again after (in 2X21, he mentions he only has sex with people once) and sometimes entertains himself with escorts – the less emotionally demanding way to have sex ends up being paying for it. While sex (even random one) is usually an engaging experience, to Chuck sometimes it is a mere mechanical act that has the only purpose to numb sufferance and anxiety.

Blair, of course, is an exception. She was the first person with whom he managed to build a true connection, to the point that sex became fundamental in their relationship. With her, he reaches a complete emotional involvement; he concedes himself to her fully, he’s generous, trusting and attentive. It is interesting to notice, as I’ve already mentioned, that when Chuck is emotionally blocked, Blair consciously uses sex to reach out to him, for she knows that a physical connection with her will also lead to an emotive one (for example, she seduces him to bring him to say “I love you” in 2X25 and in 3X14 she has sex with him before he manages to talk to her about his mother).

7. They find it hard to establish and enforce healthy boundaries with others.

Considering everything I’ve explained, it is understandable why building healthy relationships for Chuck is hard – and why he had to work so hard on himself in order to handle them better. I think it’s safe to admit, at least from my point of view, that his relationships will never be completely “healthy” (although this is a pretty relative concept), for the simple fact that he is, logically, a profoundly and somewhat irreparably damaged person.

That being said, over time and thanks to a long and hard journey, Chuck learnt to cope with his daemons and to make his relationships work in a less dysfunctional way; he learnt that he doesn’t own the ones who he loves, that trust is fundamental for a bond to be unbreakable, that relationships work through compensation and ability to compromise and, eventually, that allowing the people he chose to spend his life with to see his weakest, most vulnerable sides doesn’t mean failing; it means accepting their love and their support and allowing them to make him stronger.

Above all, trusting people represented the biggest problem to Chuck and his inability to do so was often the main reason behind the crisis of his relationships.

Having been tested his whole life by his father (it is my opinion, for example that Bart left him the responsibility of Bass Industries when he faked his death with the intention to see if he was capable), Chuck used to assume that testing his loved ones’ loyalty was the only way he had to be sure of their affection. It’s a behavior that often puts him in a lose/lose situation. What happens in 3X17 is probably the most exhaustive example.

Betrayed by his mother, Chuck tests Blair’s love and devotion in a way that sets him up for losing her: if Blair accepts to have sex with Jack, she gives him a proof of her love, but she betrays his trust; if she doesn’t accept, then her love isn’t what he expected it to be. Either ways, he’ll be destroyed.

His difficulty to trust people is also what brings him to be so jealous and to expect from others the same exclusivity he gives to relationships. In his friendship with Nate, for example, he doesn’t tolerate other people’s intrusions; Nate’s need to have a wider circle of friendships almost feels like a betrayal to Chuck, since his fear of abandon leads him to think those who love him will find someone better than him and realize he’s worthless.

His insecurity tends to make him suspicious and his inability to communicate his feelings and his needs leads him to manipulate people around him to keep them from leaving him.

In conclusion, I think Chuck shows all the traits of a shame based personality. Personality is, according to my view, an only marginally changeable element; consequentially, it is my opinion that the dysfunctionalities coming from the structure of personality Chuck presents still belong to his life and inevitably play a role in it. However, a journey of growth and evolution taught him to live with it in a healthier way, one that allowed such a damaged and emotionally deficient person to build a happy life for himself and for his family.

I Fell In Love With My Best Friend

Request: Hi I’d like to request a Rob x Reader one shot. ;) Reader and Rob are very close friends, coworkers, actually, and they get in some sort of a fight/argument and it ends up in some very smutty smut. ;) Maybe fluff at the end? @totallysupernaturaloneshots

Pairing: Rob x Reader
Word count: 3,154
Warnings: Angst, jealousy, smut, kissing, fluffy stuff, cursing, If I forgot anything, let me know please! :D
Authors Note: This is my first time writing smut! So if it sucks, I’m sorry! I hope you all enjoy it! I’m finally glad that I got to write a Rob x reader. There’s not enough Rob love out there!

When you were just 19 you auditioned for the role as Jamie, Sam and Dean’s littler sister. When you got the call that you got the part you were head over heels and so excited! Now, over the past few years that you have been an actress on Supernatural, you’ve become extremely close with the cast members.
They all had welcomed you with open arms from the get go. You were the youngest (25) and shortest (5’2”) one of the bunch, but Jensen and Jared treated you and cared for you like a little sister. Just like your character. You also had become best friends with Felicia Day (who plays Charlie), Richard Speight Jr. (Trickster/Gabriel), and most importantly Rob Benedict (Chuck Shurley/God).

Keep reading

July - 3:54pm

“But a question of etiquette - are you a crunchy or smooth peanut butter kind of girl?” - Matty, raising a jar in each hand, a glint in his eye accompanied with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. And you can only assume he’s making some sort of innuendo.

You blink, passively - an exasperated sigh, “Matty, I don’t know what that means.” 

Taking his hand - tugging him from the aisle, impatiently. Grocery shopping with Matty was basically grocery shopping with a five year old. Cursing George for leaving you alone to do it. You and Matty had spent the weekend at his Mum’s, and George had asked you pick up stuff for dinner on your way home.

Of course - Matty had grumbled, asking why George couldn’t just do it himself, he was the designated chef, after all. And what had he even been doing all weekend anyway, apart from smoking and having an hourly wank. 

But - Matty was easily tamed with a mention of tequila and wine, and the promise to make sangria tonight. 

Now, Matty’s dragging you down the confectionery aisle, dropping Haribo jellies, M&M’s, marshmallows, an array of other sweets into the basket. An actual five year old. He’s whining now about how you should’ve gotten a trolley, you roll your eyes. Habitually, when the three of you went food shopping - it would be in the later hours of the night, when the store was basically vacant. Matty would clamber into the bottom of trolley, letting you and George pile everything on top of him. 

“Matthew, I’m not pushing you around in a trolley in the middle of the fucking day - you’re a fully grown man,” - A pout, you smirk, your gaze drifting over him, struggling to reach a bottle of chocolate syrup on the top shelf, giving himself a boost from the lower shelf. “okay, a shorter than average, but still a fully grown man.”

An incredulous look, scoffing, eyes narrowing, pointing the bottle at you - “I’ll have you know, darling, that I am five fucking eleven,” Lips curving, a smirk, “and there is nothing smaller than average about me.”

A laugh, shaking your head, tugging him along, a teasing tone - “Alright, shrimpy.”

A defiant sound, hand flying out in matty-esque outrage, “Shrimpy? I am not a fucking shrimp, you just wait - oh shit, m’sorry, love.

Cutting himself off, hand knocking a box of baby formula milk out of a passing woman’s grip. She’s sighing, insisting it’s okay, too busy trying to quieten her seemingly distraught baby girl sat in the front of her trolley. Matty ducking down to retrieve the container, the baby grabbing a fistful of his curls - screeches of despair turning to delight. 

“Oh my, aren’t you a cute little idiot.” - straightening back up, cooing, pulling faces, eliciting more screeches, bubbles of laughter - her hands outstretched, reaching for his hair again. 

The mother - the young, blonde, looks-like-she-could-be-a-part-time-victoria’s-secret-model mother, looks on, doe eyed. Her hand on his upper arm, profusely thanking him, speech heavily accented. A loud laugh at whatever he’s just said, your eyes narrowing slightly - okay, hop off blondie. 

Engaging in conversation with her for a few minutes, eyes wandering back to you, calling your name - telling you to come look at the “cutest fuc - fudging baby he’s ever seen.” - Scandinavian Victoria Secret model wannabe giggling at his save on the curse word. 

Her eyes meeting yours as you approach, all warm smiles, gushing about how lucky you were, how much of a lifesaver Matty was - because Audrey, the baby, hadn’t settled down since she stepped foot inside the supermarket. And you nod and try to smile, hoping it’s not coming out as a grimace. 

Mah - Mah,” - the baby pipes up, sudden - a change from her non consistent babbling, and it’s when she repeats it again that Matty looks down in wonderment, adornment. “Did she - is she trying to say my name?”

He’s attempting to coax it out of her, sounding out his name. Not properly, with his accent he’s completely missing the t’s - “Ma-hee”  and he’s nodding his head each time he says it, curls bouncing. Her hands reaching for his hair, legs kicking in excitement - shrieks, “Mah.. Mah.. Ma-eeee!

A triumph grin splitting across Matty’s face, he’s clapping, Scandinavian blondie is clapping, eyes alight - shifting between Matty and her kid, the baby clapping, animated giggles, repeating, “Ma-eeeee!”

And you’re clapping along, because the scene is too unbearably cute, and also the fact that you’ve never seen Matty cooing over anything other than puppies or George.

Blondie is gushing about what an excellent dad Matty would make someday, shooting him a wink and warning to to keep a hold on him, when her phone buzzes. Announcing it’s her husband here to pick her up, giving your arm a squeeze, thanking Matty once more and telling Audrey to say bye to him. 

Ma-eeee.” - a final shriek, Matty waving as they round the corner. Turning back to you,still in a doting tone, “She was well cute.”

You, quirking a brow, an amused smirk - “The baby, or the mum?”

A chuckle, arm draping around your shoulders - “C’mon babe, you have to admit, she was proper fit.”

Bluntness, you scowl, his lips tilt, pinching your cheeks between his thumb and middle finger - pressing a chaste kiss to your pouted lips.  Humming in thought, chucking celery, an avocado into the basket, “But you know she did get me thinking,” he pauses - carrots in hand, eyes meeting yours, a playful glint - “that we’d make pretty fucking cute babies. We should have a baby.”

A laugh, shaking your head. “Babe, I wouldn’t leave a child in your presence for five minutes, you -”

“Hungarian Sports Illustrated model mommy disagrees,” a singing smug tone interrupting. “she seems to believe I’d be an excellent father so shut up you.” - Pointing the carrots at you.

Rolling your eye, his arm back around your shoulders - “No, listen - think about it, the basic rules of physics, biology, whatever - science, prove that incredibly cute babies come with one stunningly, other worldly attractive, Beyonce complex parent, aka me,” bringing the hand holding the carrots to his chest before tossing them back to the shelf. “and the other parent is mildly, borderline fit, aka you. It’s the perfect balance.” 

Pinching your cheeks between his fingers again when you try to protest. Digging an elbow into his ribs instead, drawing a hiss from him, “Jesus! Why and how are your elbows so fucking sharp? Fucking hell, bloody weapons. Why are you constantly battering me?”

“Why are you constantly an arsehole?” you, retaliating. Walking towards the checkouts, you look into the basket for the first time, a frown. It’s filled with sweets, chocolate, crisps, red wine, brandy, tequila, and little to no actual food. 

“Matty, we were supposed to get actual food for dinner, what the fuck is this?” - an aggravated expression, because Matty was the one who had loaded the basket up with utter junk crap.

A scoff - “What are you on about? There’s plenty of fucking actual food, look we have an avocado, cheese, peanut butter, a lemon - wait no that’s for the sangria - okay, celery, garlic bread… bloody hell, stop looking at me like that - George is the self acclaimed chef, he can sort something out - we have a baby to make.”

You glare - “Matty, we are not having a baby!”

And he’s shrugging, getting in the queue for the checkout, “Well shit we might, I’m like.. 95 percent sure we’re out of condoms, and it’s not like I can even rob any off G, ‘cause he’s apparently gone celibate now and all.”

Defiant, you cross your arms over your chest, “Then I guess we’re joining him on the celibacy front.”

Matty’s matching your glare, lips attempting to suppress an amused smirk, rolling his eyes and stalking off to go grab some condoms - muttering under his breath, something about how he only came to have a good time and he’s feeling so attacked right now.

Skipping across the car park, in pursuit of Matty, carrying one of the shopping bags, he carries the other. A low wolf whistle as you approach, lips tilting at the shorts he’s wearing, ending just above his knees - Louis’. You had only ever seen Matty wearing shorts a handful of times. Matty had only brought one pair of jeans with him to his Mum’s, and he had managed to spill gravy all over them at dinner yesterday.  Leaving him to have to borrow something off of his little brother. 

He turns upon hearing your whistle, jaw set, cigarette between his lips, holding up a finger to you - “Do not..”

And you laugh, shrugging, a wink - pressing into his side, singing into his ear, “And he’s got his shorts on - she says babe, you look like a twat, you look-”

A chuckle, arm slinging around your shoulders, “You’re a right little bitch sometimes, y’know that?” pulling the sunglasses from atop your head and putting them on himself, “But you’re my bitch, and I love you, bitch.”

“I ain’t never gonna stop loving you, shrimpy.” - taunting, hooking an arm around his waist. He scowls, giving your ponytail a yank. 

Honey, we’re home!” 

Matty, bursting through the front door of the flat. And it’s almost comical the way he stands in the living room, arms outstretched, waiting for the usual George tackle welcome - taking a few seconds to realise it’s not happening - George is nowhere to be seen. A frown, dropping the shopping bags onto the couch - calling out, G? - Disappearing into the kitchen.

Your brow furrows, walking past his bedroom door, noticing it’s shut tight, stopping. Listening, a faint groan from the other side of the door - a brief streak of panic shooting through you, initially thinking something had happened and it was a groan of pain. Until you hear it again, and a third time - accompanied, intertwined with a softer sound this time round. And you gasp, the sounds suddenly clicking, a whispered, “No fucking way.”

You hiss for Matty, trying to stay as quiet as possible. He reappears in the kitchen entrance, chewing on a strawberry lace, you - holding a finger to your lips and motioning for him to come here. He just gives you a look, raising a brow. You sigh, forming a circle with your pointer finger and thumb with one hand, then repeated shoving your index finger of your other hand through the circle, jerking your head towards George’s door.  

Again, it’s almost comical how fast his eyebrows shoot up once he understands what’s going on, and how quick he’s across the room, ear pressed to George’s door, mouth falling agape once he hears the same noises you had. Except they’re growing louder now. You both exchange a glance, eyes wide. And Matty’s mumbling - “Oh thank God, finally - yes G baby, get in there.”

You or Matty for the life of you, couldn’t even remember the last time George had brought a girl round, let alone get laid in the flat. And George had blamed you two for that, Matty declaring that that was bollocks, insisting George was just afraid of sex. 

The noises - groans, moans, whimpers, mattress squeaking - are growing louder, you managing to pry Matty away from the door, holding his hand to his heart and muttering about how proud he was. 

The novelty of George finally getting laid, however, wears off after a few minutes. Now you and Matty are sat on the living room floor, backs against George’s bean bag,shoulder to shoulder, Attempting to suppress giggles, passing the bottle of tequila Matty had opened in celebration, back and forth. Shoving M&M’s into each other’s mouths, mocking the noises drifting from George’s room. 

“Yes! George.. Harder!” - Matty, accentuating shrill moans, head falling back against the bean bag. Lips curving, giggles. You’re mimicking George’s deep, guttural groans - lips by Matty’s ear  - “Fuck, s’good, baby.. so tight.” 

And it continues, echoing their noises between the two of you - and it’s when a crescendo starts to build, screams, and George refers to himself as Daddy, that Matty’s head falls against your shoulder, spluttering tequila over your shirt. Silent laughter raking through the both of you, gripping onto each other.

A few seconds later - it’s quiet, you and Matty calming, footsteps from the room, you both scramble for the kitchen - knowing George would be pissed once he found out. Matty pushing you against the wall beside the entrance of the kitchen, finger to your lips telling you to shush, and you’re telling him to shut up because he’s the one giggling. 

He peers around the entrance frame once he hears George’s door creak open, nodding in approval as he watches the girl walking across to the bathroom, adorned in George’s shirt. “She’s fit.” - he informs, and you’re craning your neck to get a glimpse, when George exits his room. Matty squeaks, you both snapping your heads back, silent giggles. 

George’s brow creases, standing at the foot of his door when he notices the living room floor, littered with scattered M&M’s, a half empty bottle of tequila, and it clicks immediately, a grimace appearing over George’s features as he calls out for the two of you.

Matty’s shaking his head, the two of you barely able to breath, and it’s when George pokes his head though the doorway an crosses his arms over his chest once he finds you both, an impassive glare - is when the cackles start, on the verge of tears. Matty managing to get out a choked - “Hey, Daddy.”

A/N: I’m really not sure what this is - it started as a prompt from an anon wanting Matty and his girl to overhear G with another girl and this is apparently what happened.