Dealing with a boyfriend in the army was…far from easy.
“You sure you’ll be safe?” You ask once again, wringing your hands against the camo material of Connor’s shirt. He sighs, a small smile crossing his face.
“For the last time, angel. I’ll-” kiss “-be-” kiss “-fine! I promise.” He vows, leaning into your touch.
You relax, stepping forward and letting him envelop you in his arms.
“So…” He says, mouth brushing against your ear and making you shiver. “Want to test out the cockpit before I leave? Nobody else is here, not for about…half an hour.” He proposes, giving you a cheeky smile as you slap at him.
“Is that a no?”
“…No, it’s not.” You admit, and squeal as he lifts you up and dumps you unceremoniously in the cockpit of his plane, your back pressed against the soft leather.
“Giving new meaning to the term cockpit.” He mutters, sliding in beside you and slamming the door, and you roll your eyes at his pun.
“Don’t call me a dork while I’m fucking you.” He lightly slaps your ass playfully and you squeak, balling your fists in his shirt.
“You’re not fucking me yet.” You protest, and he tuts.
“You’re right. Clothes off.” He orders, and you shiver before obeying. His eyes darken, his lips pulling into a shark-like grin. “Wo-ow.” He drawls, drawing the word out. “Are these new?” He hooks a finger around the side of your purple lace panties.
“Yeah.” You breathe against his chapped lips, shivering as he trails his other cold hand down your back, unclasping the matching bra.
“Planning this? Naughty baby.” He taunts, lips trailing down your chest, leaving goose-bumps in their wake.
“You were the one who proposed this.” You argue, breath hitching as he smacks your ass again, harsher this time without the barrier of your jeans.
“Hush, baby. Let Daddy indulge himself here.” He whispers, and you gulp.
“But Daddy…” You whine softly, and he hums, unbuttoning his shirt agonisingly slowly, revealing his white vest and the inked (favourite/flower) on his bicep. You immediately lean forward and press your lips to the marked skin, once more overcome with the fact that he’d gotten that tattoo for you!
“Mmm, angel…” He growls, his voice gravelly. “Do you think you’ve been a good enough girl for Daddy’s cock?”
“I’ve been very good,” you claim, “I didn’t make a peep when you were teasing me at your parents on Sunday.”
“No, I suppose you’re right…” He concedes. “Even while I was fingering you under the table, you didn’t make a sound…hmm, okay. That’s good enough in my book. Besides, we have to make this quick. We have…” He consults his watch. “A quarter of an hour left.”
“Okay!” You say, eagerly reaching for his belt, but he stops you.
“Oh no you don’t. I’m not getting fully undressed, do you know how long it takes to sort out this uniform?” He says, and you pout as he undoes his belt himself and pulls down his trousers to about his knees, removing his cock from his boxers.
“Unfair,” You mutter, and he laughs throatily.
“Come on, baby, ride my cock.” He says, and you’re all too eager to comply, pulling your panties aside and sinking down on him with a whimper. “Good girl.”
“Daddy, fuck…” You whine, and he grabs your ass with one hand, squeezing lightly.
“Bounce on my cock, baby, bounce like a little bunny.” He pants, gripping your waist so hard you think you’re getting bruises.
“Connor…that’s so dirty…” You mumble, blushing, but do as he says, moaning out as he fills you. His hips snap up to meet yours every time you rise, thrusting into you deeper each time.
“Oh, fuck, that’s good, you’re good, you’re so amazing, kitten.” His head tips back against the seat, his long mahogany hair sweeping back to reveal another tattoo on his collarbone, a small (favourite/colour) heart. His lips fall open in a drawn out groan.
“Daddy, I want to cum.” You whine out as the knot in your stomach tightens, hips rutting jerkily. “We can’t make this last for a long time, people will be here soon.”
“Fuck, you’re right.” He moans reluctantly, reaching down and tweaking your clit in time with his thrusts. “Okay, baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.”
He coaxes you through your orgasm, kissing you once, twice, again, and he sighs as the feeling of you clenching around him milks him through his own orgasm, squeezing every last drop of cum from him. “You’re lucky that we’re not averse to having a baby,” he mutters, “we didn’t use protection.”
“It’s okay,” you mumble back, pulling your clothes back on and stroking his cheek, letting him nuzzle his nose against the small, silhouetted plane tattoo on your wrist. “I’m not…you know. Ovulating right now.”
“Good, that’s good.”
He comes back after eight long, agonising months, and with him, he brings a small, intricately designed gold ring and a tattoo with the same design circling his left ring finger.
“I want you to be my co-pilot, until the day I die,” He mumbles shyly, kissing your knuckle. “I know I’m not much of a catch, but…”
“Yes!” You squeal, leaping into his arms, uncaring of the stares of the other people in the airport as you kiss him.
“I love you, baby.” He whispers into your ear. “I can’t promise much but I can promise to always do good by you.”
“I know. I know you will. And that’s why I love you more than anything, my pilot.”
One year of marriage turns into two, which turns into three with the surprise of a new addition on the way.
Unfortunatly, he’s deployed in Afghanistan when you find out that you’re one month gone, and he’s due to be there for another ten months, meaning-
“I won’t be there for the birth of our first baby.” He says, and his face clearly displays his dismay over the computer monitor.
“You won’t.” Your lip quivers.
“Fuck, well…well, look, it’s okay, sweetheart, I’ll…this doesn’t mean I’ll love it any less, okay? And I promise I’ll do my best to be there for the birth of the next one.”
“Next one?” You blink, grinning through your tears. “Fuck, Con, you’re ambitious. I want this one out before we even think about having any more.”
Your son, Arlo Laurence Murphy, (Laurence for his grandfather — at first, Connor isn’t that keen, but he begrudgingly agrees that it was nice to hear how his father broke down in happy tears after hearing that his first grandchild was going to be named after him) is born at 3:34 A.M on the fifteenth of October at a healthy 7.8 pounds.
A month later, Connor comes home, and you will never forget the way his mouth drops open and he bursts into tears as he sees you cradling the sleeping infant amongst the other family members waiting for their loved ones to return. You will never forget the way Connor holds Arlo tenderly against his chest as though he was a china doll, burying his nose into the small tufts of brown hair atop the baby’s head — you were convinced Arlo was going to turn out looking just like his dad — and inhaling the comforting scent you associate with babies — milk, baby powder and warmth. You will never forget Arlo opening his big blue eyes and staring directly up at his daddy before opening his plump pink lips and yawning, reaching up and tugging on a lock of brown hair.
You will never forget all of these moments, and the barberry tree tattoo on Connor’s shoulderblade will never let you.
Arlo is a happy child, and as his third birthday dawns and Connor is set to stay home for around five years, you decide to try again. Luck is on your side, and this time you are blessed with a beautiful set of twins, Aspen Evan, and your first girl Dahlia Cynthia, affectionately nicknamed Doll.
Connor is there for the birth this time, and he immediately visits the tattooist again, this time returning with an aspen tree and a small dahlia flower joining the barberry tree to make a forest on his back, a tribute to your small but evergrowing family.
Doll immediately shows herself to be a drama queen within her first few weeks of life, often overshadowing her twin brother. You suspect Aspen prefers it that way, as he seems content to just lie there in his cot, quiet much like his godfather and namesake.
Your days are filled with joy, some fights, laughter, and when Connor is away, constant video calling. Now eight, Arlo loves bragging that his daddy is a pilot, absolutely loves it. He loves the souvenirs that Connor brings back, and he adores it when Connor presents him with small, insignificant pieces from planes being built. Doll is still a little primadonna, now enrolled in ballet and junior theatre classes to boot. And Aspen hangs around Evan for the most part, learning about trees and nature, and he claims that he wants to be a park ranger like Evan when he grows up.
Its your family, and it’s not perfect, but it’s yours.
hi i got sappy and cliche at the end and I’m very sorry that it was not smut all the way round BUT i wanted to try to do something cute as well…lmao
Anos após a dissolução da equipe original ( composta Aqualad, Robin, Superboy, Kid Flash, Miss Marte e Artemis, entre outros ), os filhos dos heróis mais famosos da terra resolveram se unir e assumir o nome como um legado, reativando a equipe, agora com novos membros mais com o mesmo propósito: Ajudar a liga e proteger o mundo. Juntos há quase um ano, esses jovens heróis vem atuando como uma equipe própria, afiliada a Liga da Justiça a quem ajudam sempre que são requisitados. Possuem vilões e problemas próprios.
Helena Wayne/ Huntress, 17 anos: Filha do bilionário Bruce Wayne ( também conhecido como Batman) e Selina Kyle ( Mulher Gato). É a mais nova da equipe, mas a com mais experiencia. Atuou como Robin ao lado de seu pai desde os treze anos, e agora prefere ser chamada de Caçadora, quando está com sua equipe. Atualmente namora com Don Allen.
Jonathan Kent / Superboy, 19 anos. Um dos membros fundadores da equipe, Jon é filho de Clark Kent ( Superman) e Lois Lane. Cresceu em uma fazenda em Smallville, mas agora mora em Metropolis, onde é conhecido como Superboy, ex parceiro do Superman. Quando mais novo, ele e Helena formavam uma dupla de heróis e fundaram juntos a equipe.
Don Allen/ Kid Flash. & Dawn Allen/ Impulse, 18 anos
Filhos gêmeos de Barry Allen ( Flash) demonstraram seus poderes herdados dos pai muito cedo e desde então, vem ajudando-o a cuidar de Central City. Por lá, quando estão juntos, são conhecidos como Tornado Twins, mas decidiram assumir novas identidades separadas ao entrar para a Justiça Jovem. Don Atualmente namora com Helena Wayne.
Jason Prince/ Wonder Boy, 19 anos. Único filho da Diana Prince ( Mulher Maravilha) e Steve Trevor, Jason nasceu e cresceu em Paris, na França. Sempre foi um rapaz fechado e um pouco mal-humorado, e por isso nunca se deu bem em equipes. Foi expulso dos Jovens titãs quando tinha quatorze anos e passou um tempo atuando sozinho até aceitar a proposta de seus amigos de infância para integrar a Justiça Jovem. Atualmente namora com Jessica Jordan.
Jessica Jordan / Lanterna Azul, 18 anos. Filha de Hal Jordan ( Lanterna Verde) e Carol Ferris, Jessy, como gosta de ser chamada, ganhou seu anel de lanterna azul aos 16 anos. Passou alguns meses em Odym treinando com o Santo Andarilho e outros portadores do anel e assim que retornou a terra, passou a integrar a equipe Justiça Jovem com seus amigos e namorado.
Atualmente namora com Jason Prince.
Connor Queen/ Arqueiro Negro, 20 anos. Filho mais velho de Oliver Queen ( Arqueiro Verde) e Dinah Lance ( Canário Negro ), connor atua como Arqueiro Negro, parceiro do Arqueiro verde em Star City desde os quinze anos. Também faz parte da equipe Justiça Jovem, a convite de seu melhor amigo, Jason. Com certeza é o membro mais impulsivo de todos e mais arrogante, pois é extremamente confiante em tudo o que faz.
Erika Jones / Oráculo, 21 anos. Filha adotiva de
J'onn J'onzz. ou John Jones como é mais conhecido. Atua como “oráculo” da equipe, não saindo para missões de campo, mas sendo uma membro muito importante para a realização de todas as missões da equipe. É muito reservada e extremamente confiante em suas habilidades.
Clay Stone. 22 anos. Filho adotivo de Victor Stone. Clay possui um braço e uma perna protéticos, e um olho robótico já que havia perdido os membros reais no acidente de carro que o deixou órfão. Trabalha no Star Labs e adora ajudar o pai em tudo que pode, já que são muito próximos um do outro. Clay é o membro mais velho da equipe e sempre acaba agindo como a voz da razão, se preocupando com todos os outros membros. As vezes é um pouco rígido.
Ps: Essas são apenas apresentações rápidas pra vocês conhecerem um pouquinho deles, logo eu vou contar mais sobre eles e montar melhor uma mini bio pra cada um! As perguntas também vão ajuda-los a conhecer mais sobre cada um deles. Também já coloquei ai dois casais, então… divirtam-se.
let’s talk about Jack. Let’s talk about Supernatural. Let’s talk about
Angel the series. I’d like to introduce to to a guy. He’s got two
father figures, his mother died in childbirth, he’s ‘human’ but
supernatural and every other buggar thinks he’s evil and wanted him dead
before he was even born.
Oh sorry, my finger slipped:
But no, one of these boys was influencing his mother before he was even born. Which one? Both.
ones mother was trying to get rid of the pregnancy. Hmmm, both. Which
one had a father figure that was against baby until father figure
realised baby had a human soul (read. had the potential to be good).
You guessed it, both.
one had a second father figure that wanted to use him for revenge?
Which one is associated with another world/dimension? Both.
I made my point yet? I should hope so, because this saviour or
anti-christ is the same script from Ats, fandom included. When in fact
Connor was neither (just like Dawn btw). He was however a very powerful
being and eventually a very good character. (They had to change a lot
of the plot last minute in Ats but believe me). In S6 (see comics) he
really comes through.
Onto my point. They are both initially
catalysts to our main stars and NEVER become the magic bullet that so
many people fear. No focus off TFW.
‘The character still had little chance of his own development. So he became an agent for evolution of others’
also becomes a teenager super fast, but part of the point in Connor was
that through him Angel could connect more to the human world. He could
embrace his found family more. He could have hope for the future.
Angel was not long out of a dangerous streak of depression and loss of identity when Connor came through.
Sound like someone we know?:
is neither saviour nor anti-christ. Castiel‘s 180 is similar to that of
Angel’s and Buffy’s (who in turn view Connor and Dawn as a threat to
begin with. A threat that was controlling people, even family).
A/N: This is a songfic based on Beth Crowley’s song ‘Living Without You’. I heard this song and immediately fell in love with it and thought that it fit DEH very well. So here I am. If you guys enjoy this type of thing I might do more in the future. There’s not really a pairing in this fic, it’s more just a sibling relationship type thing. I don’t know, I liked how this turned out so I hope you guys do too.
Summary: Things haven’t been the same since Connor’s death. While everyone else in the Murphy family seems to be in denial of his death, reader finds themselves withdrawn and can’t help but remember the moments where Connor had a little bit of light.
Warning: Mention of suicide, self harm, implied overdose, swearing
Word Count: 2,220
I walk alone, pace up and down the streets we used to know.
You wander around your neighborhood, the street lights casting an eerie glow on the sidewalk. It’s been a few weeks since your brother’s death and you still can’t believe it. How can Connor really be gone? It feels like just yesterday you two were sneaking off to the orchard in his new already beat up car.
You and Connor had been very close. A lot closer than Connor had been with Zoe. You never quite knew why they always had to fight. You didn’t think they had wanted to. After their daily arguments, you could see the hopelessness and defeat reflected in both of your older siblings’ faces when they turned away. Couldn’t they see how tired both of them were?
After one of their fights, Zoe had stormed off and you had been lingering at the edge of the hallway but close enough to just barely see Connor through his open doorway. It was like Connor’s perfect mask of indifference had crumpled and all that was left was a misunderstood, lost boy who didn’t know how to fix himself. He always looked more tired than angry. After a few hesitant moments, you had decided to grab a sketchbook and silently walk into his bedroom, sitting down cross legged on the ground. In that moment you had given Connor your silent support.
This becomes a daily occurrence. Whether it was a fight with Zoe or Connor’s nightly fights with Larry, you’d always be there to offer support.
One night, after an incredibly nasty fight, Connor had gotten up from the dining table and stormed out the front door instead of up to his room like normal. You remember vividly how Zoe had rolled her eyes and let out a relieved sigh, all of her previous tension dissipating. You hadn’t had time to grab your sketchbook or book before racing after your brother.
You end up sitting on the very same swingset that you had found Connor at that night. It’s cold out this time of year, a lot colder than that night with Connor.
He had been slouched on the swing, his hands gripping the chains so tightly that his knuckles were turning white in the pale light of the moon. His eyes were scrunched tightly, as if he could erase the world from existence if he just closed his eyes tight enough. He looked like he was in so much pain.
You just sit there in silence for a long time, scoffing your sneakers in the hard packed sand, listening to Connor’s ragged breathing.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Connor doesn’t answer for a long time, trying to control his breathing. After a deep sigh, he finally says “I can’t ever seem to please them. To them, I’m just a fucking disappointment.”
“Con, that’s not true.”
“It is! I’ve ruined everyone’s fucking life Y/N!”
“You didn’t Connor,” you say, remembering his outburst that night. If only he had believed you.
“You haven’t ruined mine,” You reply, swinging the seat sideways to see Connor’s distraught face better.
“Y-you’re just saying that! You don’t mean it.” Without allowing you to respond, Connor gets up and races off.
You turn to look back at your house down the street before deciding to follow him.
‘Cause our house no longer feels much like a home. It hasn’t for a while.
You let Connor walk ahead of you, allowing him space to let off some steam although you know that he must know that you were following him. He eventually sat down at the base of a large oak tree and you opt to sit beside him.
Without a word, Connor slips his hand into his pocket, pulling out his iphone and switching on his music. You sat there, watching Connor slowly nod his head to the music, a small smile forming on his lips as he leans his head back against the tree.
After a while of watching him, he scooches closer to you, taking out one of his ear buds and silently passing it over to you.
I hum along, listening to all your favorite songs.
You sit in that same spot underneath the oak tree, putting the playlist on shuffle. You had made a playlist dedicated to all his favorite music shortly after his death. It had been for his funeral. It had been impossible to do it without sobbing. Sitting here now, if you were still enough you could almost feel Connor sitting beside you.
Close my eyes and just imagine you’re not gone, remembering your smile.
You and Connor spend the whole night listening to his music. You can’t remember when but you end up falling asleep beside him, your head on his shoulder. Sometime during the night, Connor had taken off his hoodie and wrapped it around you, his long sleeve sweatshirt underneath.
After he looks over at you to make sure you’re still asleep, Connor carefully rolls his sleeves up to expose his scars. He traces each of them, picking at the newer ones, causing them to bleed. It was his little secret. Or at least that’s what he had thought. Right before he had fallen asleep, he had whimpered the tiniest amount but that was enough to briefly stir you awake.
You had still been pretty groggy but your eyes were open enough to see the black glint of blood on his arms. You weren’t awake enough to know whether it had been real or not.
At the crack of dawn, Connor nudges you awake. As you wake up, you look down at his sleeves which are now rolled down. You must have just imagined it although there was still a nagging sensation at the back of your mind.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing your eyes. Before you can fully wake up, Connor is already standing restlessly.
He points to the horizon. “Look.”
You tilt your head up at the sky. A hazy orange/pink tints the sky. You turn to look back at Connor only to see that he’s already clambering up the tree.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Going to watch the sunrise. You coming?”
You shake your head in disbelief before climbing up the tree after him. Connor perches on the thickest branch possible to catch his breathe and allow you to catch up before looping his arms around the branch above him and continue climbing. Eventually you get to the highest branch available that isn’t already too thin.
You settle beside the branch beside him. You watch the sunrise in a comfortable silence. As the sun makes its peak, Connor lifts his arm and reaches toward the sun with his hand splayed, as if he can touch it. When the sun is fully up, Connor sighs sadly.
“We better get back home before I’m in even more shit,” he grumbles as he quickly climbs down. You follow him without a word. When you get to the last branch before the ground, Connor’s waiting with his back turned to you. You prepare yourself and jump, looping your arms around his neck as you fall.
Caught in surprise, Connor falls forward, landing hard in the grass. You roll off his back, laughing, smiling in satisfaction when you hear Connor’s dorky laugh.
It’s getting late.
You get up, brushing the dirt off your jeans. Not quite wanting to get back home, you make your slow trek down the street. Time’s frozen and you can’t escape from the memories flooding into your mind. Everywhere you look, you remember Connor. Tears burn at the back of your eyes but you refuse to spill them.
You walk into your home and barely even notice your parents worried voices. Zoe tries to stop you before going upstairs but you shake out of her grasp easily.
Laughing, you and Connor stumble back into your home. Larry and your mom are waiting restlessly by the door, a look of fury and concern on their faces.
“Where the hell were you? Don’t think you can go and leave in the middle of dinner to get high Connor!”
“He wasn’t high!”
Mom tries to hug you but you side step out of her embrace, fists clenched as Connor and Larry get into another fight.
You go upstairs to find Zoe glaring down at the scene below her with a look of disgust on her face. You push past her to wait in Connor’s room, not noticing her questioning glance.
A short while later, Connor stomps upstairs and flings himself onto his bed. Pressing his pillow to his face, he screams angrily, not caring that you're in the room with him since you're the only one he can trust.
You curl up beside him and flip open your sketchbook, doodling something funny to make Connor smile. As per usual, it does it’s job. You and Connor spend the rest of the night passing the sketchbook back and forth.
Amongst the crowd, I swear I see your face.
School is an absolute mess. People give you and Zoe looks of pity as you walk the halls. As if they knew Connor. Like they cared. Your friends try to interact with you at lunch but you can’t focus on what their saying. You’re digging through your food, making it a mushed up jumble on your plate. For one reason or another you look up.
A flash of dark messy shoulder length hair flys past. You jerk around, searching frantically through the crowd.
Turn around and have to do a double take. Though I know it won’t be you.
“Y/N? What’s up?” Jared and Evan look at you, startled.
You take one last look around the cafeteria and sigh, curling your shoulders in. “Nothing. It’s fine.”
Suddenly a rush of emotions comes up, choking you. You excuse yourself and rush to the bathroom before you can start crying. You barely slam the stall door shut before you collapse, sobbing on the floor.
All you can see is Connor’s lifeless body on the park bench, a bottle of empty pills rolled on the ground where he probably dropped it.
Your head starts buzzing with static and you swear you can hear blood rushing through your ears.
I hear your voice. A symphony that soars above the noise.
His voicesuddenly rings in your head. Your sobs hitch in your throat as you press closer to the bathroom wall.
Telling me that now I’ve gotta make a choice.
You either gonna shut down every time you think of my death or you gonna get the fuck up and live your life.
Youswallow your tears, looking up at the gross, stained stall door. His words ring in your head for a long time before you decide to get up, stumbling out of the stall. You look at yourself in the mirror and glare, knowing that you gotta listen to whatever voice is inside your head. You start scrubbing at your face until it has mostly gotten rid of the buffy eyes and red, tear streaked face.
You need to do this. For him.
Stay still or start anew.
Youwalk out of the bathroom with your head high, trying to ignore the stupid, puppy hurt looks other students give you.
You march up to your lunch table, watching as Jared, Evan, and now Zoe and Alana look up at you with astonishment. And you smile.
Dear Connor Murphy,
I write you letters you will never read. Paint you pictures you will never see. In all my life I never thought I’d be…living without you.
Zoe watches from the doorway as you write furiously in your journal, writing and rewriting everything you wish you could have gotten to say to Connor. Your sketchbook lays spread open on your bed where doodles and cartoon caricatures of various people you and Connor know are drawn. You are sure to draw in it every day after dinner.
I lost a part of me I’ll never find, but I keep searching for a sign you haven’t gone and left me far behind. I’m living without you.
I’ll try to finish what you started, be the person that you wanted. See the beauty in the world.
A half emptycanvas is propped against the wall in Connor’s room. For the longest time you tried to ignore it, wishing it didn’t exist, trying to stop all the memories of Connor painting from floating to the surface.
You decide it’s time to start painting it. Connor always intended it to be finished. Or if he had been planning his suicide in advance, he intended for you to finish it. So that’s what you do. You spend every other chance you get to finish Connor’s painting.
You don’t exactly know how it happened but after you finish it, it ends up in the local art gallery. You make sure people recognize it for Connor’s. To see everyone’s excitement and awe over this painting, you could feel Connor smiling beside you, knowing this is what he’d always wanted.
They say a person never leaves you. God, I’m hoping that might be true. But this is always going to hurt.
Evan couldn’t suppress a smile at those taunting words, that wide grin, and that predatory stance Connor blessed him with.
Connor had been showing his playful side to Evan more and more frequently. And still, Evan wasn’t fully sure of how to respond. It was a pleasant sight to see Connor laughing and smiling and acting so free, but even he didn’t feel that way 100% of the time about himself. Evan couldn’t respond to Connor’s upbeat moments fully, and would get nervous just trying to force himself to act equally as happy as Connor. Still, being around Connor made Evan ten times happier than he’d normally be alone. Teasing… right! How the hell do you respond to a taunt like that?
Evan stared at Connor standing a few feet away from him on the grassy hilltop. Make him. Sure. That means go to him.
But before Evan could even get to his feet properly, Connor was off, sprinting at top speed down the shallow hill. Evan smiled more and he breathed a giddy giggle before pursuing the chase.
Connor was running like the wind, said element blowing through his hair. It felt so exhilarating to run like this in the fresh air. All he could do was keep running.
Evan, on the other hand, was panting in the effort to catch up to his bolting partner. But Connor suddenly seemed to slow to a jog, but was still running. Maybe he was getting tired, too! His chance had come!
Evan picked up even more speed and was so caught up in declaring victory that he had no time to slow down before reaching Connor that he just rammed right into him, knocking them both to the ground.
“Oof! What the fuc– Evan!” Connor groaned but was eyeing him playfully anyway.
Evan was heaving and he smiled bashfully down at Connor, the two of them a tangle of limbs and twigs and breaths, “Y-You slowed down. Did you do that on purpose?” he panted.
Connor shook his head, “No. I didn’t even realize I slowed down. I was taking in the moment.”
Evan looked around at the field and he smiled again, “Oh, you said ‘make me’, didn’t you?”
Connor dawned a grin once more, “I ain’t saying it.”
Evan giggled briefly and he used his position to his advantage, sliding a select few fingers up and down the curve in Connor’s side. The long-haired teen gasped and immediately writhed beneath Evan. Connor hated being tickled in public, and Evan was well aware of that fact. But it didn’t stop him from doing it in the middle of an empty field, so technically, not in front of the public eye.
“E-Evan! Stoppit!” Connor begged through gritted teeth.
Evan merely switched spots, worming his fingers into each of the soft spaces between Connor’s ribs. An escalation in laughter was putting it mildly. Connor practically howled on the ground, jerking and twisting every which way to somehow get Evan’s fingers off. Evan wished with all his might that he never had to spend a day without hearing this laugh. It was high-pitched and squeaky, all while an undercurrent of vivacious, melodious laughter held it together.
“Plehease! Please, I can’t take it!” Connor sputtered out through a snort when Evan jabbed at Connor’s highest rib.
“Then say it,” Evan was impressed with his own mannerisms at this time. Goading and confident? Who is this new Evan Hansen?
Connor wheezed when Evan finished and he blurted out, “T-Train isn’t the word band I’ve ever heard… Happy?”
Evan let out a peal of laughter and he nodded. Of course he was happy. Happy to hear Connor’s laugh all for that one stupid admission.
Featuring: The Dawn Squad, Hanin “Overprotective Dad” Lavellan, Maraas Adaar. (Approx 7000 words, most under the cut).
CW: blood, graphic violence, swearing, major character injury.
This wasn’t how this
was supposed to go.
Hanin grunted, shoving away a bandit with his boot and only just
managing to regain his balance in time to block a mace-swing from another. Claim the fort, the missive said. It’s abandoned, it said.
As the grizzled man Hanin had kicked staggered back,
wheezing from the force of the heel that had been driven into his gut, Hanin
couldn’t help but feel like someone
had overlooked a very important thing. Namely the bandit nest nestled at the heart of their conquest. Like angry hornets, they had buzzed to life the second the Inquisition soldiers crested the
nearby hill, banners raised and flapping in the wind.
Unfortunately, Hanin did not have
time to dwell on his frustration; his mace-wielding opponent readjusted his grip, growled, then swung
again, arm muscles rippling, aiming for the dead-center of Hanin’s chest. The
mace’s massive metal head was designed to crush armour and shatter bones like
the back-kick of a mule, and Hanin treated it with worthy caution. With barely a second to think, Hanin danced back and
away from the blow, the snarling bandit too close for him to manoeuvre his
greatsword to parry. By the grace of Mythal, he had chosen wisely when he began
the fight in leaf-stance. Outnumbered as the Inquisition soldiers were, he knew he would be required to move whenever one of the many bandits managed to get within his
reach. In this instance, Hanin needed the mobility more than he needed brute force behind his swings.
There were many advantages to the greatsword. Extreme
close-quarters combat was not one of them.
Hi you, something I don't get in your post don't most people argue if Jack has influence Cas, not if he evil? The minority believes Jack will be an evil figure in the end, but argue that rn hes doing wrong by effecting Cas and just like the parallels to Amara, (Connor ? dont watch this) these storyline usually /start/ with these characters doing something like controlling ppl so going by usual tropes thats how this story usually goes. How could Jack bring Cas closer to S/D rn he seperates them
Thanks for the ask. I’m going to surmise your points/questions as a prompt to myself because this ask hit a whole bunch of inter-sectional discussions
Jack influencing Cas does not make him evil, but he is doing wrong right now
Very true re. influencing Cas in what could be viewed as a negative way does not make him evil. It would of course make him a being that wants to survive, which does not make them bad.
And here’s where we get into the intersectional debates and opinions. I don’t believe Jack has brainwashed Castiel. Influenced? Maybe? Sam telling Cas ‘you can’t do this’ is also influencing him no? But not quite brainwashing and also super ineffective. Below are some of the reasons why I don’t think Cas is brainwashed but it is not the single pillar that my points or opinions rest on.
All roads lead to Rome here and I accept people who believe he’s brainwashed have a point, they have an argument. But it does not ring true to me:
Arguments against it being his choice
1. Dean would not accept that this was his Castiel.
has repeatedly rejected the possibly of Castiel’s agency wherein it is a
move from him (Dean). See ‘Superman gone darkside’ and creating a
literal false memory about purgatory, to reject Castiel’s decision. To
reject any reality wherein Cas would choose not to be with him.
He is not a reliable source. That’s actually a running joke within the fandom, one of my favourite fanarts is punk Casifer flipping Dean off and Dean waving all ‘ohh Cas is going through his punk phase’. For more on Dean is an unreliable source with people he loves please see @amwritingmeta it’s not that he can’t see things when the are wrong. It’s just a rejection of reality. He is sooo stressed. Boy needs to go to a spa
2. Castiel’s utopia speech to Kelly.
hesitated during that speech and told a bunch of cliches. He thought
of what a human might want, no hunger, no pain, no fear. He told her it
would all go away. He was comforting a dying woman. Not telling us
what he saw. This is not a suggestion of blind faith.
‘Castiel would never boop the Winchesters’. Yes he would. Castiel has
repeatedly worked on his own and created distance between himself and
the Winchesters when he thought it was needed. He didn’t harm them. He
merely tried to get away.
4. The grace colour issue. This could
be due to lighting (we have seen this before) or residual grace. It
does not mean that Cas isn’t driving.
Moreover the reason why I brought Connor, Dawn and Chris into this is because there were also ‘this kid is brainwashing our main cast’ arguments in the fandom and meta of it’s time. Some characters also believed it at first. All of which were proven to be incorrect. Setting up the newbie as more powerful or with more motive than actually exists is a trope.
I believe Castiel has his full agency, I believe he did a complete 180 based on what he saw or felt and I don’t believe that it was paradise. He would be far from the first character to make this kind of swing in the face of new evidence or emotion
Back to your point
And uh under the cut because this will go on and people have dashes to worry about
Girl Crush: Samantha Connor x Josh Washington x Reader
Summary: Josh and Samantha have been dating for several months and have invited you and your friends up to the cabin for a fun weekend. But your jealousy of Sam has turned into a sickening girl crush, where you want her place next to Josh.
So I've seen someone woke talking about a role reversal of the Scoobies and the Fanged Four so here's some head cannons I came up with for this thing that I hope to write but probably won't anytime soon.
• The Master is Darla's father and watcher, acting as a mix of Giles and Joyce
• Angel's family is made up of vampire hunters who died because of the Scoobies leaving him sole survivor.
• Drusilla and Spike as childhood pals.
• Spike's mom was a potential slayer who never was summoned but Spike inherited abnormal strength from here.
• Spike's mom being a total badass who listens to heavy metal, drives them to the graveyard and just kicks total ass.
•Spike going from this total bookworm nerd to this dork who has like five piercings and bad tattoos to ward off evil.
• Drusilla being sane and later losing her sanity due to the world she has to live in.
• All of them having had sex with each other at least once (whether by accident, or in the heat of the moment, etc.)
• Spike trying to study for finals because new looks or not he's still the only one who cares about school, only to have his friends fighting demons downstairs. He comes down, yells at them to either take it somewhere else or help him with MacBeth.
• They all leave except for one demon who thinks Shakespeare is awesome and that's how he meets his BFF Clem the demon.
• Darla being a badass who takes no shit.
• Angel being this mix of Angel/Angelus. Ruthless fighter, clueless in relationships, great in bed. Lots of feelings.
• Drusilla collecting dolls because her mother (who was killed by a demon) loved them and it was the last thing she gave her before she died.