•Alice In Chains
•Sleeping With Sirens
•5 Seconds Of Summer
•Stone Temple Pilots
•Three Days Grace
•Three Doors Down
•Puddle Of Mud
Summary: When Sam has a bad day, Gabriel’s always there to cheer him up; there being the operative word.
AN: Hello! This is just a teensy weensy (or not, it kind of grew into a monster) thing for kitten!anon. Happy birthday, hope you have a fantastic day! We’ve chatted a few times and I know (hopefully) one of the things you like is Sabriel so have this. Imagine Season 4ish, with Sam and Gabriel being an item, but Gabriel still not often getting too involved in TFW’s hunts.
Sam glared at his laptop. After spending hours researching for their next case, he hadn’t managed to come up with more than a few sentences of reliable information - which Dean had been quick to snark at him for before stomping out the door of their latest motel, presumably to go for “a drive.”
He rubbed at an itch on his stomach, eyes narrowing as he flipped quickly through web pages. A few more hours. A few more hours was all he needed, he would definitely find something by then. The skin on Sam’s stomach began to - for lack of a better word - tingle, and he scratched at it absently, still scowling at the unhelpful articles on his laptop screen. However, the longer he rubbed at his skin the more potent the sensation grew, until Sam pushed away his laptop and tugged up his shirt to look at his stomach.
Nothing. There was nothing there, but the feeling was still intensifying. His entire stomach felt warm and tingly and electrified, but there was nothing there. He didn’t know what to do or how to make it stop and he would have been worried, but… it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. It wasn’t painful, and Sam didn’t feel like he was in danger. Somehow, he could sense that whatever was doing this to him had benevolent intentions. No, the sensation didn’t hurt, it just - well, it tickled.
Sam began to laugh as the invisible force continued to affect his stomach. The sensation was on top of his skin in a way that was impossible to put into words, but it was also under his skin. He could feel it swirling inside his stomach, light electric touches that were ticklish beyond belief.
For @hiddenpolkadots, who wanted something cute and fluffy in canon-verse. Hope you like it!!
They’re out exploring when they discover it.
It’s a combination of chance and curiosity more than anything, honestly. Bellamy’s not sure they’re going to find anything of interest, but Clarke’s just so eager, and he likes spending time with her like this. Just the two of them, outside in the warm weather, the sun beaming down bright and lovely, with nothing but time.
“Just a little bit further,” she promises, not for the first time this past half hour.
“You don’t even know where we’re going,” Bellamy points out with a laugh. She glances back to shoot him a grin and he just rolls his eyes. It’s all the acceptance she needs, and she speeds up their trekking with renewed vigour.
“We’re going to find something,” she says, determined, and he simply laughs again. He’s pretty sure she could make something materialise out of nowhere if her will alone allowed it.
“If you say so,” he responds, fond but doubtful.
And of course they do find something, following the sound of water until they step out from the thick foliage of the forest and onto the open grassy riverbank. Something that takes his breath away.
“Holy shit,” Clarke breathes out as she takes in the view before them.
It’s maybe twenty feet tall, the stream of water tumbling over a series of boulders and pooling at the bottom to meet a wide and gentle river. The water is gorgeous, blue and green and clear enough to see down to the riverbed, the pebbles and the plants and the fish swimming through it, and the surroundings are just as much. Moss-covered rocks and trees standing tall and large and flowers he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before in bright and gorgeous colours.
It’s beautiful, serene in a way Bellamy forgot Earth could be, with how much death and destruction it seems to have delivered them. But this place feels untouched and perfect, a small pocket of the world that right now, is all theirs. He wonders if they’re the first to witness it since the nuclear apocalypse. It feels that way. He and Clarke, together.
“We found something,” Clarke says after a long minute, voice full of wonder, and when Bellamy glances her way her smile is wide and her eyes are holding nothing but awe.
“You did, yeah,” he responds, knocking his shoulder with hers.
“I wouldn’t have if you didn’t agree to come,” she points out, pulling off her backpack and setting it down on the grass. When she looks at him she’s beaming, and he falls a little more in love with her, if that’s even possible. “We can go in, yeah?”
Bellamy’s lips tick up into an amused smile. “Doesn’t look like there are any mutant water animals living in here, does it?”
Clarke laughs, throwing her head back with it, and Bellamy can’t help but grin at the sight. He loves seeing her like this, unabashedly happy and without a care in the world. It makes his chest bloom with warmth.
They set themselves up quickly, Bellamy pulling out the small mat they brought and setting their bags down on it. They strip with little fanfare, each tugging off their clothes until they’re down to their underwear.
He’s seen Clarke naked hundreds of times by now, but still his eyes move to trace her body almost reverently. He loves every single part of her, from the swell of her stomach to the stretch marks on her hips, from the curve of her breasts to the mole above her lips. She’s smirking when he meets her gaze, teasing and a little smug like she always is when he gets lost at the sight of her.
“Stopping there?” She asks with a pointed look down, a challenge, and Bellamy snorts, raising an eyebrow as he pulls down his briefs. Clarke laughs, delighted, but he sees the way her eyes turn dark and a little mischievous, too. She steps out of her panties and unclasps her bra, letting them fall to the ground. Then, “Come on,” she says with a grin, offering him her hand.
He takes it, and together they walk to the river edge. It’s only a few feet deep, and they lower themselves down into it.
“Oh, wow,” Bellamy laughs. The water’s warm.
“Hot springs,” Clarke says, her laugh coming out surprised and delighted.
He steps further into the river slowly, and Clarke follows a second later. They wade around together for a while, just enjoying the feel of the water on their skin, of it turning their hair silky smooth, exchanging easy words and soft kisses. Their smiles never leave their faces. Bellamy can feel his widen each time Clarke laughs heartily, or squeals when he tickles her sides, or looks at him in amazement as she discovers something hidden in the depths of the water.
He’s so fucking in love with her it’s ridiculous.
“We should go under the waterfall,” she suggests after they’ve grown accustomed to the gentle flow of the river, to the warmth of the water around them and the sun shining from above. “Do you think it’ll be like a shower?”
“With about a hundred times the water, maybe,” Bellamy says, earning himself a splash in the face.
“Shut up,” Clarke mutters, although she can’t keep the smile off her face. She pulls him under before he even gets a chance to think twice about it, her laugh turning into a surprised squeak at the cool rush of water over them.
It’s falling heavily, but Bellamy can’t say he minds the feeling. There’s something refreshing in the way it runs from the top of his head down the planes of his body to meet the water below, leaving his skin prickling. Peaceful too, the white noise of rushing water pushing everything from his mind, leaving nothing but this feeling of content rooted deep in his chest right now and the girl who’s experiencing it with him.
She folds herself into his arms, and they stay like that for a few minutes, together under the cascade of the waterfall.
Eventually they make it back into the open river, after Clarke gets cold and lets Bellamy know by tugging on his arm and spitting a mouthful of water in his face. He sputters and she laughs, and he challenges her to a water fight, and she does the same with an underwater handstand competition. They splash each other and they race around this little, wonderful space they’ve found together. They talk and they laugh and they kiss and they get carried away on the riverbank for half an hour or so, until their faces are flushed red and they’re too exhausted to do anything more than just float on their backs and enjoy the sun.
And when that begins the set, turning the sky shades of pink and orange he knows Clarke would love to paint, she swims up to him. It’ll be getting dark soon, and they’ll need to make dinner and put up a tent, but right now his thoughts are only for Clarke, naked and gorgeous and wading through the water to meet him. She locks her legs around his waist and curls her arms around his shoulders, and he pulls her closer, loving the feeling of her right here, skin against skin.
“I told you this was a good idea.”
Bellamy chuckles lightly, closing his eyes. He can feel Clarke’s smile between them, knows it’s wide and bright and full of love. “You did. And it was.”
She hums, nosing at his neck. “I love you.”
“Yeah,” he says, sighing in content when she presses her lips to his shoulder. He feels so full with her, with this easy happiness and with this day and with this place they’ve found. It’s enough to feel like it’ll burst from his chest, so he just holds her tighter, closer, and presses his smile into her hair. “I love you too.”
If u guys wanna see my vent paint here u go I did this last night to get emotions out; just speedy with as minimal erasing as possible and just grabbing colors and stuff and going until I felt better. Some venty smokey Chloe for u to see.
stucky speed piece for getyourwordsout @ dreamwidth
Steve turned his head to the water, the shower almost unbearably hot against his face. His entire body was one big ache. He’d just gotten back from a mission, one that had him and Natasha running around South Africa for three weeks.
Bucky had protested violently to being left behind with Sam; while they both would have been useful, Steven couldn’t in good conscious have Bucky out on the field. He was still too unstable, swinging between a dead-eyed ghost and an enraged specter. There were moments when he seemed…okay, with clear eyes and a crooked grin but those times were still too few. Steve had woken up more than once with Bucky crouched over him, metal had resting heavily on his throat.
The pace was slow, frustratingly so, but extensive therapy was helping. It was.
Turning off the shower, Steve pulled open the shower curtain and jumped, slipping a bit on the wet floor; Bucky stood in the bathroom, his back pressed against the closed door.
“Jeez, Buck,” Steve said, pressing a hand against his chest. “You scared me.” Bucky didn’t reply and Steve reached for a towel. “I’ll be out in a sec, okay? Want some breakfast? We should get some-”
“We were lovers.”
Freezing, Steve gripped the towel for a moment before scrubbing it over himself roughly. “Let me get dressed-”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky sounded closer and Steve startled backwards, slipping again; Bucky grabbed his arm, steadying him, even as a thundercloud grew on his brow. “You had to know I would start getting memories. Of us.” His eyes dropped and Steve flushed. Attempting to pull his arm away, he only succeeded in pulling Bucky closer, the latter apparently unwilling to let him go.
Steve took a deep breath. “I…Bucky, I didn’t want to, to make your recovery any more difficult.” He shook his head and dropped it. “I didn’t want you to think that I had ulterior motives for helping you.”
There was silence for a moment before cool metal curled around his jaw, jerking his head up. Bucky’s eyes were narrowed, jaw clenched. “You sure you weren’t just looking out for yourself?”
“Not saddling yourself with a crazy person.” Bucky said it evenly, even nonchalantly, but the muscles around his eye were tight.
Steve blinked rapidly, mouth gaping. “Wha…Bucky, no. No.” He grabbed the wrist of Bucky’s metal arm but didn’t pull it from his face. “That’s not it at all. I’m with you already, pal.” He grinned a little helplessly. “I’m already saddled with you and I…I wouldn’t have it any other way, okay?”
Bucky stared at him for a moment before nodding and pressing his mouth against Steve’s in an awkward, unskilled kiss. Just as Steve realized what was happening, Bucky seemed to remember how to do it; he cupped Steve’s head, tilted his own, and licked against the seam of Steve’s lips. For a moment, Steve allowed it, opening his mouth and nipping at Bucky lips, before jerking back. “Wait, no.”
“Why?” Bucky said impatiently, stepping into the shower and crowding Steve against the wall, his boots squeaking against the damp floor. “I want to. I want you. You…want me?”
“I do, Buck,” Steve said, not sure if admitting that was the best idea. “But…you’re-”
“Dependent,” Steve finished. “You're so dependent right now and that’s…that’s not a bad thing, you’re recovering from something that…but I…I’m-”
“My most important thing. My only important thing.” Bucky stared at him, face horribly, beautifully open, and Steve reflexively swallowed.
“It would feel like I was taking advantage of you. You…I’m your only link right now. I’m everything. I would feel like…like them. You’re in such a vulnerable state-”
“That’s bullshit,” Bucky said, eyes widening, taking on a manic gleam. “I’m not…you would never-”
“But it would feel that way to me,” Steve said gently. “You need to heal. We…we both need to heal before we start anything else.”
Bucky stared at him. “But I want you,” he said hoarsely.
Steve closed his eyes, pressing Bucky’s hand against his cheek. “You already have me,” he said. “You always did.”
Sometimes Steve woke up with cold metal circling his throat. Sometimes Bucky raged, destroying everything he could get his hands on. Sometimes he sat in the corner of the room, shoulders slumped and eyes dead.
But small things changed. Bucky touched Steve more, gentle taps with his metal hand, his flesh hand occasionally gripping Steve’s shoulders or wrists. He stared sometimes with a half-grin on his face; whenever Steve asked him about it Bucky just shook his head but that half-grin never faltered. He spoke with Natasha quietly in Russian and questioned Sam about pop culture and eventually started interacting more with the world around him.
It came to a head when Steve woke up to Bucky sitting at the foot of his bed. Hesitating for a moment, Steve lifted the covers and Bucky slid in. He curled around Steve, arms and legs gripping as if he never wanted to let go and Steve allowed it, pulling him closer and closing his eyes, letting Bucky’s steady heartbeat and gentle breathing lull him back to sleep.
The awkward moment when you’re at tumblr and laughing while reading posts , or saying things like “what the actual ffffuck”, “wut’ , “oh my god”, “YES THAT’S SO TRUE”, or “YES MY SHIP HAS SAILED” out loud and you turn around just to see your mother’s behind you.
Imagine 60 years from now, you’re grandchildren come in and ask “why are you crying?” You point to the TV. On the TV it says ‘internet icons Dan Howell and Phil Lester passed always in each other’s arms today at 20:22’ you’re grandchildren turn to you and ask “who are those people” you hand them TABINOF and answer with “my idols, the people who inspired me but most of all the most amazing people to walk this earth.” Your eldest grandchild starts flicking through a TABINOF you say to them “it’s the end of an era, the end of a whole life time”