Title: The Execution of the Last Steal [AO3] Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Warnings: Thief!Jensen, Hacker!Jared, Protective!Jensen, BAMF!Jared, BAMF!Jensen, Jealous!Jensen, Friends To Lovers, Pretended Couple (between the Js), Mild Violence, Top!Jensen, Bottom!Jared, Happy Ending Word Count: 97k Summary: Anyone who meets Jared Padalecki would think he has the perfect life: a college degree, a normal life and an apparently perfect fiancé, Stephen Amell, the son of a Senator with a bright future. Except for one thing: it’s all based on a lie. Five years ago, he created a new identity for himself to cut all ties to his criminal past and ex-boyfriend Jensen Ackles, a world-renowned thief.
But Jared can’t run forever. A threat from his past comes back looking for him and the only person who can help him is the man he thought he left behind forever, the only person Jared’s never been able to forget.
Incredibly charming and just as cocky, Jensen Ackles is a thief that is too good at his job for his own good, who would do anything to protect Jared now that his life is in danger. Years have gone by, but he has never been able to forget Jared either.
And perhaps now that they are forced to escape together, Jensen might be able to do what he’s best at: steal Jared’s heart one last time and win back the only person Jensen has ever loved.
anyways i had a dream last night that in lance’s insecurity episode, lance was talking badly abt himself and was all sad and keith just hugged with and reassured him of how great he is and it was p damn nice and cute
Sorry it took so long to get it done, but here’s the long-awaited Shownu smut! @jinatetae needed it so I delivered!
best friend had the hottest older brother. Everything he did, down to the way
he moved had you completely wrecked. You’d been minding your own business at
Kiera’s house one sunny afternoon when all the tension started. He’d walked in,
clad in basketball shorts, a backwards snapback and a muscle shirt that was
practically transparent. He’d given you a look that clearly said “I want you.
Right now.” But he’d walked past you without two words to you, and when you
tried to talk to him about it, he’d always change the subject. You’d spent the night
at Kiera’s house before, but tonight just felt different for some reason.
dragged yourself out of your spot on the bed next to Kiera, glancing at the
clock on her bedside table. 2:30 AM, it
read. You decided against putting on pants of any kind—no one would be awake to
see you, and besides, you needed a drink and you kinda had to pee anyway. You
crept quietly out of the room in just your big T-shirt and panties, shut the
door and tapped twice on the bathroom door, sharply but mutedly. It appeared to be unoccupied, so you entered,
did your business, and went on your way. You were in the kitchen when you heard
heavy footsteps coming up from the basement. You froze. The door swung open and
Shownu’s right foot appeared as he closed the door behind him.
sorry,” he turned to go back down the stairs, but his eyes seemed to be glued
to your thighs. “I’ve just been coughing and I really need a drink.” He
sauntered toward you, his broad shoulders leading the whole parade. You
realized as he came to stand in front of you that you were right in the way of
the cupboard he needed to get into. He reached across you to get a glass,
causing you to inhale sharply. He grabbed one from the cupboard, filled it with
water, drank it all in one gulp, and set the glass in the sink. The next few
seconds happened faster than you’d have thought possible. He smirked at you,
pinned you to the counter, and flicked his tongue against your earlobe. “I’ve
seen the way you look at me. Just so there’s no confusion, I want you, too.”
mouth moved slowly but confidently down your neck. You sighed and leaned in to
his touch, wanting to melt where you stood—pinned between him and the counter,
right where he wanted you. You shivered as his mouth traveled down to your chest,
and he made a sound of frustration at the fact that he couldn’t reach your
collarbone because of your shirt. You paused.
think I heard a noise,” you breathed as his hands moved to grip your hips.
let’s move this party to the basement,” he whispered, kissing you gently and
moving to get something out of the fridge. You ran to the basement door, Shownu
right on your heels.
on, Y/N,” he pulled you down the stairs by the hand, and you gasped as the
stairs gave way to the basement itself. It was huge, with a workout mirror and
a treadmill in the corner of the room. A bench press setup sat in the middle,
and he walked over to it, lying down and motioning for you to sit in his lap.
was almost done with my workout when I got thirsty… literally,” he said, his
hands moving to caress your sides.
smiled and settled into his lap. “I guess we’ll just have to fix that then,
grinned and started doing sit-ups, and every time he did one, your lips met a
place on his body. “One,” you counted, pecking him on the mouth. “Two,” he
breathed as your lips landed on his jaw. “Three,” your mouth moved to his neck.
“Four,” he sighed as your lips skimmed over his collarbone. “Five,” you said,
and pulled off his shirt, your mouth tangling with his for a second until he
pulled away, remembering that he had a workout to finish. “Six,” he said as
your mouth coaxed the skin above his left nipple into a deep purple hickey.
“Seven,” you sighed, mouth ghosting over his stomach. “Eight,” he groaned
slightly as you licked just above his belly button. “Nine,” you blew harshly on
his stomach, causing a shiver to slide down his spine visibly. “Ten,” your
mouth collided with his again, his tongue slipping in and mapping the terrain.
“Wrap your legs around
me,” he whispered, picking up the object that he’d grabbed from the fridge
earlier. “Also, hold this. I’m gonna carry you.” You obliged and glanced at it,
barely having enough time to register what it was before you were lifted and
his hard member collided with the fabric of your panties through his basketball
“Jesus, Shownu.” You
leaned back so you could see his face. He was beaming, and your face must’ve
registered to him as curious, because he explained. “A) My hands are on your
ass, B) I’m carrying you to my bed when I never thought you’d be down to fuck
me, and C) you are about to be wrecked.”
He stepped over the
threshold of his bedroom and threw you down on the bed, wasting no time in
removing his shorts, standing on the side of his bed in his boxer
briefs with the object he’d had you hold. Looking at it, you registered that it
was a can of whipped cream, and he smirked at you before drawing a line of it
on your thigh. He looked you in the eye as he got on his knees and sucked it
off your skin, causing a moan to escape your lips. He kissed his way to the
meeting in your thighs, and lifted your shirt slightly so he could access your
tummy. He released another line of whipped cream from the can and slid his
tongue out to lick it off you, fingers slipping into either side of your
panties to pull them off. He sat you up and ripped off your shirt in one fluid
“Flip over, baby, I want
to try something.” The look on his face was slightly sheepish but mostly lustful
as you obliged, exposing your ass to him. You shivered slightly as the whipped
cream can’s tip came into contact with your back. He pressed gently and the can
released a line from the middle of your back to the base of your spine. Shownu
sighed in anticipation as he sucked the cream from your spine, causing you to
shiver. His breath ghosted across your back and he peppered kisses over your
ass as you spread your legs slightly further apart, giving him better access to
your pussy. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and dove in face first. His
hands squeezed your firm ass and his tongue was now moving furiously against
your wet core, ripping a loud moan from your throat. He paused. “Be quiet, if
they hear us, you won’t ever be allowed to sleep over again. We should probably
switch positions to keep you from being too loud, though,” he breathed.
warning combined with his low, husky voice had you practically dripping with
anticipation. You nodded. He flipped you back around so you were facing him,
and his mouth went right back to work. His tongue lapped upward as he placed
your calves on his shoulders, eliciting a quiet groan from you. Your hands
tangled in his hair. He alternated his pace, sucking hard on your clit and
causing your hips to buck into his face. “Fuck, babe,” you breathed.
so hot when you curse,” he murmured, his breath hot on your core. He slid a
finger inside you as his tongue assaulted your clit, and you tried to control
your breathing as your back arched from the bed involuntarily. A second finger
slipped into you, and he sped up, slamming you hard. “I’m- I’m c—” was all you
could get out before pleasure overtook you. You felt butterflies fill your
stomach as you were pushed into your orgasm, his fingers sliding in and out of
you as fast as he could manage. He gently removed his fingers, then licked them
clean slowly. “You taste so fucking good,” he breathed, leaning in to kiss you.
do you,” you whispered against his neck. “I want you to fuck me, baby.”
pulled away and looked you in the face. “Let’s do it, then,” he said, his
pupils dilating to twice their regular size. You smirked and pulled him down
onto the bed, straddling him. His rock-hard cock pulsed through his boxers
underneath you as you dragged your hips from his base to his tip, causing him
to exhale sharply. “Let’s get these off you, first, shall we?” You smirked and
kissed your way down his chest to the band of his briefs, and you slipped them
off him slowly. His dick sprung free and you kissed the head of it, sliding
your tongue up his shaft.
you give me head, I don’t think I’m gonna last. Let’s save that for next time,”
he whimpered. You smirked and kissed his head once more before you slid back up
to him, positioning yourself over his cock and guiding it inside you. His hands
immediately gripped your hips and he thrusted up into you, hard. “I’ve been
wanting to do this—for so—long,” he breathed as a long, drawn-out (but still
relatively quiet) moan escaped your lips. “You’re even more beautiful on top of
me than I imagined you would be.”
talking,” you whispered. “Focus on what you’re doing to me.” His grip on your
hips tightened immensely at your words, and he absolutely piledrove into you,
barely giving you time to breathe. Your hand slid from where it was on his
chest to stimulate your clit and Shownu groaned at the sight, staring you in
the eye as he fucked you as hard as he could. You felt the fire starting to
build in your stomach, your walls tensing. You bucked your hips up and tried to
fight it. He sat up and you gripped his bare shoulders, your nails digging into
them and controlling the speed yourself. You kissed him hard and focused on not
losing yourself just yet, but he grabbed your hips again, pulling you down at
the speed he needed. “Fuck, Sh—I’m coming!” You were yelling by that point, not
giving a fuck whether his family could hear you. His hand moved to cover your
mouth, and you welcomed it, cursing against it hard as you hit your high. A few
thrusts later, he came, breathlessly and damn near silently. The only evidence
that he’d finished was his breathing and the fact that you could feel it fill
you. His lips crushed to yours again and when he pulled away, he stared you in
the eye. “That was so much better than I imagined it would be. Now go get back
in bed with my sister, before she notices you’re gone,” he smirked, clearly
staying down here,” you said. “She’s woken up without me before.”
moved to turn out the light and climbed into bed.
two?” He said, pulling you against him.
a chance,” you said.
He groaned in protest and wrapped his arms
around you. “I’m exhausted anyway,” he said, his breath wrapping around your
neck. “Goodnight, baby.”
Today, a young man went missing here in my town. He was our delivery guy, and I always looked out for him. I called him “the handsome delivery guy”, talked about him with my friends, he was a happy, sweet guy and absolutely a bright little light in my life. His car was found at a bridge, and it’s not probable that he’ll be found back. For some reason I wish I could’ve told him that he made me so happy. That I always smiled like crazy after he had delivered another package, just because he was such a good man. I just want to say- you don’t know who you’re important to. You have no idea what kind of impact you have on other’s lives and how special you can be for random people you don’t even know the name of. Maybe it’s someone you see once, or someone you see every day, a stranger you always wave at because you walk your dog at the same time every morning. Don’t let them miss you.
There is a theory about Kirishima being the traitor? Do you maybe have links to them? I only know the ones with Kaminari
Yep! I’ve seen quite a few theories about Kirishima being the traitor. Unfortunately, I don’t have the links for them as I have a bad habit of not bookmarking stuff that matters (which I regret most of the time, haha). Oops. But I swear to my blood, flesh, and bones they are out there. Somewhere.
P.S. To anyone who has the link(s) for the traitor Kirishima theories, maybe you can help Anon out? Thank you!
A/N: Everyone was wild for more Fred Weasley, so I had to deliver! <3
Warnings: Vomiting mention, pregnancy
Y/N had known for quite a while. She and Fred weren’t trying
persay, but weren’t taking precautionary steps to protection either. The both
of them had wanted a family and figured that whatever would happen would happen
– and this was the surprise they had received. Y/N had a sneaking suspicion
when her period was late, but it was confirmed when she had told Ginny to run
to the shop to pick up a pregnancy test. Two little lines marked the assurance
of the little one, and Y/N ran from the loo with tears of joy in her eyes,
squeezing the daylights out of Ginny.
“That’s fantastic!” She said, laughing. “How are you gonna
Y/N hadn’t gotten that far.
Fred noticed she was acting odd at dinner, hardly touching
her food and no matter how much he prodded, she wouldn’t accept a drink. He
gave her a strange look, swigged down a glass of wine, and kept eating. Y/N
felt like she was on pins and needles around him. She wasn’t a good secret
“Are you sure you’re feeling well?” Fred asked, skewering broccoli
on his fork.
“I’m fine, Freddie.” Y/N said, with a smile.
“But you won’t have a drink. That’s not like you.”
Y/N frowned. Not like
her? She had a drink now and then but she wasn’t some booze hound. Fred
realized his mistake when her y/e/c eyes focused with thought.
“That’s not what I meant.” He said, grabbing her hand. The
touch made her shift uncomfortably in her seat. She was either going to tell
him soon or accidentally spit the truth out. “I just want to make sure you’re
Y/N brushed a y/h/c lock from her face, biting her lip
slightly. She had hardly touched her food and Fred motioned to her plate as to
point this out.
“I feel a bit… queasy.” Y/N admitted. A bit? Yeah, that was a bloody lie. She kept sneaking to the
restroom to vomit her guts out. Nothing would stay down, and she scolded the
little bean inside of her for causing such a fuss.
“Do you want me to take you to St. Mungos?” Fred asked.
“No!” Y/N said, a little too quickly. Fred cocked an
“Okay, Y/N.” He said, with a tone of disbelief. “Let me know
if you change your mind. Let’s put a film on and take it easy, eh?”
The pair migrated to the couch, and Fred made Y/N sit down
and rest while he took care of the dishes. He put on a tape, and joined her
after he finished scrubbing the plates clean. Fred draped an arm around Y/N’s
shoulder, pulling the blanket further up on her, and placing a palm to her
forehead to check her temperature. Y/N shook him off, promising that it was
only a small cold.
“I hope you’re feeling better tomorrow.” Fred said. “Don’t
forget – we have to be at mum and dad’s for the reunion and family photo. Dad
wants to talk to you about how to use the muggle camera.”
Y/N chuckled. While Molly had immediately taken to Y/N and
accepted her as a daughter, Arthur was always overly ecstatic to have her near.
She had grown up in a muggle family, and entertained him for hours with stories
about non-magical items. During her school years, he would frequently write,
asking questions about certain objects that he came across at the Ministry. It
embarrassed Fred, but Y/N loved receiving his innocent post.
“Oh I’ll be happy to show Arthur how to set the timer and
take the picture.” Y/N said.
“Er- timer? As in cooking?” Fred asked, scratching his neck
in confusion. Y/N chortled.
“No, Freddie. I’ll have to show you tomorrow.” She said. Suddenly,
she felt an unsettling feeling in her stomach, and jolted off of the loveseat,
heading for the restroom.
“Where are you going, Y/N?” Fred questioned, extremely
concerned. His head craned around to watch her leave.
“I’ll be right back, it’s just a small bathroom emergency.”
She replied, as calm as she could.
Fred sat on the sofa, watching the film halfheartedly. There
was something Y/N wasn’t telling him – she was probably really ill! He worried
for her health, clenching his jaw and trying to uncurl his tightened fist. They
promised at their wedding to be there for each other in sickness and in health,
and not to keep secrets! Resting his head on a pillow, he tried to clear his
mind of scary thoughts. In actuality, he accidentally drifted off to sleep.
Y/N returned from the bathroom, wiping her mouth with a bit
of toilet paper. Excuse in mind, she almost started into her speech about how
she must have eaten something funny, when she noticed that Fred was out cold.
Smiling sweetly, she curled up next to him and nodded off, dreaming happily
since the whole family was together.
The Weasley Family Reunion was always loud, but undeniably
fun. Molly raced around the kitchen, preparing the meals and scolding Bill on
his newest tattoo. ‘You’re a father now!’ She would snap, but Bill’s only reply
was that his children would have a cool dad. Charlie and Ron talked Quidditch,
making bets quietly so that Hermione didn’t find out. Percy didn’t approve of
this, but kept his mouth shut and assisted his wife Penelope with their child. Arthur
set up the tables out in the garden, and the Weasley boys as well as Harry
helped set them. Most of the Weasley women – Y/N, Fleur, Molly, Ginny, and
Hermione – all bustled around the Burrow, trying to tidy themselves, their
children, and also their husbands for the family photo.
Y/N’s demonstration of the camera to Arthur didn’t go over
as well as she hoped, and she had given up when Arthur was unable to fathom
that they all had to be smiling and paying attention at the same moment. Y/N
decided she would click the button, dash over to the family, and wait for the
timer to take the photograph. Arthur called out for the Weasleys to assemble,
and the whole gang got into place. Miraculously being able to fit everyone in
shot, Y/N adjusted the camera lens and made an announcement.
“Okay, so this is a muggle camera.” She explained. “I’m
going to click the button but it won’t take the photo for a few seconds, giving
me time to run over there and stand next to Freddie. Which means you all have
to keep smiling until it flashes, because a muggle camera takes a snapshot of
one precise moment in time.”
They all murmured among themselves, interested in the idea
of a non-moving photograph. And then, Y/N had an idea. She had been wondering
how to get the message across to Fred, and eventually the rest of the clan, deciding
to kill two birds with one stone. She signaled to them to get ready, and bright
smiles plastered themselves on everyone’s faces. Y/N clicked the button,
trudged over to her open spot, and Fred slipped his arm around her waist. Just
as the camera blinked, signaling that it was about to take the photo, Y/N
“Everyone say: ‘Fred’s going to be a daddy!’”
Everyone let out a cheer of surprise, and Fred looked
extremely pale in the face. He was no longer the healthy one. Ron and Harry
were laughing, but Molly’s eyes were immediately swollen with tears. Many
family members started to clap, and Charlie ducked into the house to pour
everyone – sans Y/N – shots of firewhisky.
“I KNEW IT!” George shouted, pointing to Y/N’s stomach. He
looked overjoyed at his prediction, and decided to point out the obvious to
tease his brother. “YOU GUYS HAD SEX.”
Fred moved to hit him, while Fleur congratulated Y/N, the
hands of two small children in her own. She explained to her that she would be
more than willing to help with the pregnancy in any way she could. Hermione
gave Y/N a hug, and the two chuckled about her demonstration of a muggle
camera. When Fred and George stopped fighting, George gave Y/N a crushing hug,
tears falling free from his eyes.
“I always knew you and the prat would have beautiful,
red-haired babies.” He said. “Finally, the world domination can continue.”
“Can I see my husband now?” She asked, and George released
her, walking in the direction of the kitchen – and the booze.
Fred’s eyes were red with tears and he looked at her stomach
shyly. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and wrapped Y/N in his arms.
Y/N could feel something in her stomach turning, hoping it was the baby happy
to have its father close by. She knew that they were going to be a perfect
“I’m so excited and scared Y/N.” Fred said, holding her
tight. “A little baby. Our little baby. We’re going to be fantastic parents.”
Y/N nodded, sniffing and wiping away tears of her own.
Suddenly remembering the camera, she took Fred by the hand and pulled him
across the lawn. As soon as the picture had finished developing, Y/N let out a
ring of uncontrollable laughter. The Weasley reactions were incredible. Truly,
they could have not asked for a better family photograph – or a better family.
Paris glowed in the night. A million golden lights sparkled
for miles in all directions, the sky above was cloudless and a crescent moon
smiled like a Cheshire cat. It was a lazy summer night. Everything seemed muted
somehow. Below them fewer cars drove past, there were less people on the
streets and even the Eiffel Tower itself seemed to shine sleepily. How utterly
jarring it was for the city to be so at peace when its two saviours were
anything but so.
Ladybug wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them
tightly as she stared at the city before her without truly seeing it. She
couldn’t stand to glance to her side and see Chat Noir’s curious, confused
expression again. They’d come to the end of their patrol, resting atop the
building of one of Paris’ many famous restaurants. Although they were fairly
certain Hawkmoth wasn’t going to attack that night, both were reluctant to
leave in their current state of…whatever the hell this was.
decided with a sigh that barely passed whisper levels, but Chat had heard it
and she fought not to cringe as the strangeness stretched on that’s what this is, awkward.
Truth be told, Marinette had the urge to run. Run fast and
far from this new found attraction, deny she felt it. But the confrontational
Ladybug side of her told her to face the situation somehow. Neither side of her
won completely so she was stuck, frozen in a wordless limbo which seemed to expand
into a painful eternity, all the while knowing she was attracted to Chat Noir
and all the while having absolutely no clue what to do with the fact.
Chat, meanwhile, was having his own nervous breakdown.
Ladybug had been acting strange throughout their entire patrol. He’d tried to
keep things normal at first, flirting, joking, challenging her. Nothing worked.
She seemed to withdraw, stammer, look away. He hadn’t caught her eye once since
their encounter on the roof where they’d met for patrol. I was too weird earlier, I freaked her out. Damn it Agreste! He
mentally kicked himself.
“H-hey, Ladybug,” Chat swallowed, leaning back on his hands
and allowing his legs to swing over the edge of the roof. Hopefully he looked nonchalant,
he certainly didn’t feel it “about earlier, when I was flirting. I’m sorry if I
went too far. You know I’d never mean to upset you right?” His eyes flicked
over to where she sat in order to gauge her reaction. Nothing. He ran a hand
through his hair in frustration. What was different this time? He’d flirted
with her numerous times and never gotten this from her. Was it the way he said
it? Was it the specific words? He reached over and placed a shy hand on her
shoulder. Maybe he’d been too sincere, revealed too much of his heart.
Although it didn’t appear as though Ladybug reacted, inside
a storm raged. Her lips thinned slightly as she fought a sudden urge to scream.
Of course. Of course he’d be sweet and sincere in this situation. She’d been
the one acting like a freak all evening, and he was the one saying sorry?! He
was the one being kind, so very kind, so like- like-
Ladybug stood up, furious with herself for making the
comparison, and marched away to stand at the corner of the building. She missed
Chat standing up behind her. It wasn’t right, she thought. Just because some
stupid, sexy underwear ad had made her compare the two in her mind, it didn’t
mean Adrien and Chat Noir were the same person. It just meant that Adrien was
good at his job and Chat was his usual playboy self. It was totally and
completely horrible and unfair to compare the two. The similarities ended there…didn’t
Ladybug spun on her heel and, for the first time in hours,
looked at Chat Noir. They stood about a metre apart, the crisp night air
blowing around the two pillars that held the city of Paris upright. Both of
them felt the breeze might topple them at any moment. Ladybug’s eyes trailed
the smooth lines of Chat’s torso, his shoulders, his arms. Well he certainly
had the same body type to Adrien, or very similar at least. The parts of Chat
Noir’s face that lay uncovered radiated in the light of the city below them.
Marinette sucked in a breath. He was gorgeous. Why had she never noticed that
Stop it brain- I don’t
want to think of Chat that way. He’s a flirt, a playboy, he’s never ever going
to be serious about me. Ladybug is a fantasy to him. The same way Adrien is a
fantasy for me. It’s never going to happen.
“Chat…” She began, her voice strange and quiet, almost as
though she’d forgotten how to use it.
“Yes?” Chat started, his body electrified by her voice. He
wanted to close whatever weird chasm his blunder had caused, but was reluctant
to move one step further. Especially considering, moments before, his hand on her
shoulder had caused her to practically leap from his touch. He clenched his
fist. More than anything, he didn’t want to lose her.
“Have you had- you know- lotsofgirlfriends?” Ladybug
mumbled, staring back down at the ground and praying to all the gods in the
known universe that she truly glad for the low light so that Chat couldn’t see
her face matched her super-suit. God why was she asking this question? What
point did she have to prove, really?
“What was that?” Ladybug glanced up again. Chat’s head was
tilted to the side quizzically, one of his ears pointed down, the other up, and
Ladybug had the strangest urge to touch them- to see if they responded to her
“Do you,” She inhaled through her nose, her chest heaved “I
mean have you had lots of girlfriends? Or you know, seen other girls?”
Chat blinked a few times, unsure of why she was asking such
a question, but completely sure of his answer.
Ladybug’s eyes snapped to his, growing wide and impossibly
blue. Her hair ruffled in the breeze, the ribbons from her twin tails fluttered
almost as fast as her eyelashes, almost as fast as his heart. For perhaps the
millionth time, Chat Noir wondered how anyone could be so beautiful.
“No?” Ladybug spluttered. Subconsciously, her head shook
side to side in little jittering movements. That wasn’t what she’d wanted to
hear at all! That couldn’t be right! No way had Chat Noir never dated anyone.
Chat deflated at her disbelief.
“Yeah, I know. Totally pathetic huh? Even the hero of Paris
can’t get a girlfriend,” He chuckled humourlessly, reaching up to scratch the
back of his head “I have kind of a busy life, even outside of being Chat, and
my father…” he trailed off awkwardly, not wanting to seem like a bigger loser
than he already was.
Ladybug stared, slack jawed.
“But you’re such a- such a- such a flirt!” She all but spat out the words. “You flirted with Marinette
the time you teamed up with her. S-she told me…. a-and you’re always flirting
with me!” Chat wanted to die right then and there. His partner felt much the
“I am not a flirt!” Chat spluttered somewhat indignant “I
mean- I am with you- but the other me, I couldn’t ever do that. As for
Marinette. Well it was the first time I’d ever teamed up with a civilian and I
just wanted to make an impression. I guess I kind-of went overboard, god she
didn’t think I was flirting with her right?” Great, this is just great. Both Ladybug and Marinette probably think I’m
the biggest playboy in the world, and Plagg is going to rip me to shreds later.
He could already hear Plagg’s mocking laughter. His fists clenched tighter.
Never in his life had he wanted to travel back in time and smack his idiot
fifteen-year-old self, there was a first time for everything it seemed.
Ladybug was silent.
“So, you’ve never dated anybody.” Chat winced, her words
seemed so far away even though she herself was standing right in front of him.
“And you don’t really flirt with anyone either.” Ladybug’s
heart was racing. There was a question on the tip of her tongue, one which she
was unsure she wanted the answer to, so she decided to keep it to herself. At
least for now. Guilt settled on her shoulders like disturbed dust. She was
making him feel awkward. That much she could tell, so she decided to put his
mind at rest “me neither.”
Chat stopped cringing. Now it was his turn to feel
slack-jawed. He looked as though someone had beat him with his own baton.
“You’ve never had a boyfriend?”
“W-well it’s like you said!” Ladybug threw her arms up in
the air in self-defence and Chat finally caught sight of her flushed cheeks,
the slightly embarrassed craze in her eyes. He didn’t know why he found it so
funny, he supposed it was the relief which came from the realisation that maybe
she didn’t see him as a complete and utter loser after all. “Being Ladybug
keeps me pretty darn busy, plus all my schoolwork and work-work to boot, plus
how could I tell a boyfriend the reason I sneak out every night isn’t because I’m
running around with other men or something, it’s to stop possessed people from
destroying the city and- and- STOP LAUGHING CHAT!” Ladybug stomped her foot in
frustration as she watched Chat Noir crease over in laughter, his eyes closed,
his shoulders shook-
And in turn, so did her world.
Had she had her hand on her yo-yo, she would have dropped
No. She thought
firmly even as visions of a three-year-old, overly romanticised memory filled
her mind. An image of her and another blonde, standing in the rain. He’s not
Adrien and the more you compare the two, the worse you are. Chat was her
partner and she decided that he deserved more respect than that. Why was she
even bothering to compare the two? Because of the smoulder? Because she
realised she was attracted to Chat and felt guilty because of her lingering
feelings for Adrien? A boy she’d never had and never would? She needed to get a
grip on herself.
“I’m sorry My Lady,” Chat gasped, stepping closer to her
before he could stop himself “I just thought, technically you would be running
around with another guy. Just not in the way your hypothetical partner would
infer. Well… I suppose we could run around in that way,” his voice dropped low and Ladybug took a step backwards,
one of her feet came dangerously close to the edge of the roof “that would
certainly make this cat purr.”
Come on Marinette! Say
something! It’s your turn to turn him down, it’s all part of the game.
Her mind screeched at her as she stood stock still, much the
same way she had done at the beginning of their patrol. Nothing would respond.
His eyes were burning her again. There it was. The smoulder. Her heartbeat
seemed to triple its speed, her legs quaked beneath her.
It wasn’t a game anymore.
“I don’t think it would Chat,” She whispered as she bit her
lip “you don’t know me- the other me as you called it. There’s another reason
that I’ve never had a boyfriend. Boys don’t tend to really look at me, and if
they do…I’m a let-down.” She turned her head to the side, scrunching her face
in what Chat assumed was a bitter memory. Even though the city illuminated them
in its warm honey-gold colours, the light no longer reached her eyes. Outside
of battle, Chat wasn’t really a violent person, and Adrien was the complete
opposite of confrontational. But in that moment, he really wanted to hit
whoever made her look that way.
“I don’t buy it.”
Ladybug didn’t look back at him, but the shift of her
shoulders indicated she was paying attention so he continued.
“Whatever guys you hang out with must be idiots, to not see
what I see in you.” And he meant it. How could the girl underneath that mask
have such little confidence in herself? How had he known Ladybug for three
years and never noticed this? If he had, he would have spent every day telling
her how amazing she was, in every way, until she believed it.
“Oh really Chaton?” Her voice wobbled as she shuddered, “and
what do you see, except a girl in a mask who can save the day and banter with
you? The other me could never live up to whatever fantasy you have in your
head.” Why was she trying to convince him to not flirt with her? She tried to
stop herself, but deep down she wanted him to fight for her, to prove that his
affections were true even if they were just affections and not something more.
That scared her more than anything.
Chat was having an almost out-of-body experience, one where
he wondered how they’d even gotten to this point in the first place.
“It’s only a fantasy because I don’t know who the girl on
the other side of that mask is, so I had to fill in the gaps somehow. And you know,
I see far more than a girl in a mask who can save the day and banter with me,”
he repeated her words, more tenderly than she had said them, and took a shy
step towards her “I see a girl who likes sweet things more than savoury, who hates
liars and will always do her best to do the right thing. A girl with a strong
moral compass who always tries her best. I see someone smart, someone funny, I
see a girl looking at me who’s brighter than all of the lights of this city
combined. I see a girl with a furious, and sometimes scary temper, I see a girl
who rushes into things headfirst which isn’t always a good thing. I see you. I
admit…I don’t see all of you. But I want to. I want to know everything about
you. Like your favourite colour, what your dreams are, if you- if you like me
flirting or you secretly wish it would stop- I want to know all of that. I just
don’t know where to start.”
Ladybug looked at her partner, looked at Chat Noir, and for
the first time in three years she truly believed she was seeing the boy behind
the mask. Behind the flirty lines and silly puns. Here stood a boy with a
lopsided grin, with tenderness in his eyes, as though she were his gateway to heaven.
And suddenly, like the thunder that had
shaken her in the rain years ago, she was struck again. She stopped walking
backwards, the little pebbles from the slab stones skittered as she tentatively
stepped forward instead, towards her partner. What started as a metre gap, became
“My favourite colour is pink,” She answered, feeling a smile
stretch across her own face. Chat was frozen as she stepped closer to him. His
smile wavered. She closed the gap. Heat began to creep up his neck, towards his
ears, once again he wondered how they’d gotten here but at the same time, he found
himself too involved in the moment to really care.
“I dream to work in fashion one day.” She placed a splayed
hand on his chest, looking at the red against black. She’d always liked those
two colours together. Black and red. Desire and Love. Night and Fire.
Contrasting and complimenting, creating the perfect balance. Just like they
did. She felt his chest grow tight and looked up. When had he gotten so tall?
When had she grown so confident? It must
be the mask. It must be him.
“And no, I don’t want you to stop flirting with me,” She
finished and stood on tip toes, feeling something completely new stir in her
chest at how wide his eyes were, at how adorable the blush on his cheek was as
her lips brushed against it. His skin was as warm as his smile.
been applying for jobs lately that I’m not exactly qualified for. but ya know if you don’t reach high, what’s even the point. I’m so sick of delivering pizza. I just had to spend $600 on brakes for my car. So basically that just erased all the money I’ve made in the past three weeks. I feel like shit and just want something in my field that can support me and not destroy my car
♫ HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT - PAT BENATAR ———————————- 1 missed call. ———————————
sabrina(babysitter) | delivered 10:15p.m. ] im so sorry I had to take another shift … could you maybe stick around for another hour or so?
[ IMESSAGE ⇨ sabrina(babysitter) | delivered 10:16p.m. ] we can work out extra payments when i get home
[ IMESSAGE ⇨ sabrina(babysitter) | delivered 10:20p.m. ] feel free to sleepover if the trip back home is out of the way ! There’s blankets in the closet and food in the fridge
This term, my weekly supervisions are on a Friday at 1pm. This means that my week revolves around one hour (or usually two) of intense one-on-one contact time with my supervisor. After a supervision my brain always hurts so much, and I usually feel mentally drained but also weirdly energetic (?). I usually go to the gym straight after supervisions to release energy, but I’ve also found that the time following a supervision is great for organising the week to come.
I had a brand new Moleskine delivered today (yay!), so I spent time drawing out a timetable for next week & I’m gradually filling it in. My week may seem quite empty at the moment, but I usually fill each day in as I go through the week, informed with an overall view of what I need to get done by the end of the week. It may seem unorganised to do this, but my degree is quite self-motivated with hardly any contact time or relevant lectures, so organising my days as I go along works for me. Also: some things here happen very last minute, and I wouldn’t like to tightly pack my schedule early on in the week only to have to change it later. I’m a bit of a perfectionist and would hate to scribble stuff out.
But I can tell you something: most of that week from 8am-9pm will be filled in with red: WORK TIME. Thank goodness I love my degree.
Masterlist: Click Here Synopsis: Satan plays cupid in the apocalyptic world Chapter Warnings: N E G A N & his glorious mouth, doubt of religion, start of s e x u a l tension, random character death (Lucille back at it again), violence (anything else, please tell me) Chapter Synopsis: “Is he God or the Devil?” Word Count: 2,680+ (I’m a bitch sucker for descriptive shit) Rating: This story is now at hell’s gate, someone open the gate xie xie. Pairing: (So far it’s) Negan x Reader Helpful BGM: “Gasoline” by Halsey A/N: After seeing the first part receiving almost a hundred notes, I knew I had to deliver shit so tada motherfuckers, here’s part two. Since this personal blog is 80% astrology 20% anything else, instead of following me for updates, you can just tell me if you wanna be tagged on the future chapters. Hope yall like this shit! Til then, ta-ta~
She never felt this filthy in her whole damn life.
As (Y/N) withstands the scorching noon heat while finding the safest way she can settle down at, her stench absolutely reeks that it causes her nostrils to flare time to time. She is sweltering but refuses to remove her leather jacket in case of a surprise walker attack. (Y/N) is a walking effluvium. Back from the community she was at before the beginning of this story, showering is only available for the people at the uppermost of the hierarchy. However, if you belong to the lower class there are some ways to get a proper shower every day: be a sex worker for the insatiable, be a soldier for the defenseless, or join the ‘game’ for the bored. Last time our lady (Y/N) right here had a shower was when she won the recent game in exchange of her life.
But that’s a story for a different time.
Let’s continue talking about how filthy she feels.
A childhood friend of mine took the wrong paths a lot of the time. I hadn’t seen him in a good number of years but we spoke on the phone last Friday after I had asked him for edibles but he couldn’t furnish them to me day of, so he wanted to deliver them next day. I passed, but I had a feeling I wanted to see him. I wish I had taken the initiative to say, “I’m cool, but maybe I can stop by just to say hi”.
There’s even controversy about me expressing my sadness at his passing. In 2013 he sold drugs to a dear friend of mine, Bob McLaughlin, and Bob overdosed and died. Then Brian was regarded as a low-life.
But he wasn’t a bad person. All day I’ve been debating the morality of prosecuting a drug-dealer who sells a person drugs and then that person dies. The Law is enacting a new stance wherein they’re going after the dealers for Murder. Materially it makes sense, but what about an Individual’s Agency? Is a drug a murder weapon? Often times it is… but isn’t an overdose more akin to Suicide? Or a tragic accident– a simple misrepresentation of facts?
I got shook riding home from work thinking about this kid. My eyes got heavy and I drove slowly. His sister liked my RIP status and it made me cry. Writing this now I feel so emptied, head-aching and drinking to relive past moments. There was a lot of trouble in adulthood but as kids we used to do so much together. We built snowboard ramps in the backyard and hit them for hours. He showed me Google in like 2002. My family went to his family’s house on December 31st, 1999, and his dad shut off the power at midnight and we all freaked out for a minute. Man we used to listen to KoRn and watch Adam Sandler movies before we even knew what ‘ironic’ meant. What was that song? “Twist” by Korn. Before we even knew what meth was. Watching the “ADIDAS” video on a CD-Rom in 1998 because it was the latest thing. And later Mr. Fieldy’s Dreams. OPM “Heaven is a Half-Pipe”, Weezer, Skating. I’ll bring back Nu-Metal just for you dude.
Brian Broke his arm after we dared him to skate down Keans Rd hill in like 1998. I almost broke my neck after the this crazy game where you grabbed the basketball rim when it was in a lower position then raised it and let go to get air. “Get air” was kinda like a mantra back then. I showed my wife Mr Deeds recently and she loved it. John Turturro was in it! I remember we were like 10 and we ate cold medicine tablets to trip. Obviously a sign of the wreckedness to come but it was fun.