also it was supposed to be a guy today

R: They get mad at their s/o but they were at fault.

Requested by @minlii:

Hi^^ can i request a bts reaction to them getting really mad at their gf (but really so things got out of hand and she starts crying etc.) But they later realise they were at fault and she didn’t do anything wrong? Thank you♡

A/N: You guys sure love angst. I can never write a few lines when it comes to angst tho damn ;A; btw I’m sorry J-Hope stans, this one might hurt a tad oopsie!

Keep reading

It was not supposed to end like this

you were not supposed to die….I wasn’t supposed to cry

Hey guys so here I am after some time off…. I am here today because of our little baby in a trench coat…I am pained as everyone else after the season final and I am waiting for his comeback (hope it will be a badass come back like his badass entry in season 4)

I would also like to thanks my best friends and translator @littlexredxriddinghood who support me since the beginning of my journey in Tumblr

The Storm

Request: Numbers 1, 16, 17, for the top thing. Theydon’t have to be in the same fic.

1.“I said I’m hungry, not horny. But now that you mention it…”

17.“The power’s out. We have two options. Have sex, or I got ‘Back to the Future’ on my laptop.”

Request: hi! idk if you’ve already done this (im sorry if you have!) but it would be cute if peter and the reader could have a movie marathon? like hp or something. i know its not much but I hope you could find somewhere to go with it!

A/N: I decided to combine these two requests because I thought I could make some magic with them. Also sorry, I know nothing about Harry Potter so I didn’t really include much of it in the fic. ~Also, let me know if you want a part 2 to this, (I am open to writing smut guys)~

Word Count: 1355

Warnings: N/A

Part 2


Peter Parker was one of your best friends. Ned always called him the love of your life, jokingly of course. But, Ned was right. Kind of? You were in love with Peter.

Usually every Friday night, you, Peter, and Ned would ave movie night. Peter would come home early from being Spiderman and you would all watch movies at one of your houses.

Today you were supposed to go to Ned’s house, but he went away with his parents for the weekend so you and Peter had yet to decide what your plans were.

You and Pete were sitting in chemistry working on a lab when your nudged him “Hey Parker what are we doing tonight,”

“Christ, Y/N, you almost made me spill this sulphuric acid,”

You looked up to Peter who had his googles on and was holding a test tube filled with sulphuric acid, going to pour it into a beaker. (Lol I’ve spilt sulphuric acid on my hands multiple times cause my science teacher would never give us gloves to wear during labs).

“Whoops, sorry,”

“You can come over to my house tonight. Aunt May’s out with friends for the weekend so we’ll have the place to ourselves,” Peter said

“Perfect. I’ll come over around 6pm? And, being the generous friend I am, i’ll bring the pizza,”

“Sounds good,”

After school, you went home and tried to do some of your homework, but you couldn’t focus. Movie nights with Peter (and Ned) were the best part of your week. If Peter didn’t have to go out and be Spiderman you would already be at Peter’s apartment, sitting together watching movies.

But since that wasn’t the case. You patiently waited a few hours before heading to Peter’s.

Before leaving you threw your pjs, and some movies into your backpack. Regretting the decision of promising Peter pizza, you decided to just order some to his apartment.

When you arrived at Peter’s apartment, you knew he would have left the door unlocked for you so you walked right in.

“Honey, I’m home!” You said, walking inside. You dropped your things and walking over to join Peter on the couch.

“Man, its pouring outside,” you continued.

“Welcome home, honey. Yeah, the rain had kind of prevented me from being Spidey tonight. You could have come over earlier,”

“Well thanks for the heads up Parker,”

“Sorry. But did you bring anything for me?” Peter asked

“Bring you anything like what?”

“Well, i’m very hungry,”

“Well if you’re horny I could definitely help you out with that, but I thought we were going to have a movie marathon?”

“Oh my god Y/N. I said I’m hungry, not horny. But now that you mention it…”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could get a word out there was a knock at the door.

“Pizza’s here. Looks like that’ll solve one of your problems,”

You grabbed your wallet, paid the pizza man and then brought the box over to Peter on the couch.

“What movies are we watching tonight?”

“I put Harry Potter in the dvd player. You feel like watching that?”

“Sure,” you nodded.

Peter turned on the movie and the two of you sat on the couch. You only made it 20 minutes into the movie when the lights started flickering.

“That doesn’t seem good,” you said.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Peter said, moving his attention back to the movie.

You rolled your eyes, knowing a storm like this would most definitely knock out the power.

Sure enough, a few minutes later the power went out.

The apartment went silent as the tv shut off. You could hear thunder rumbling in the distance. It was pitch black besides the occasional flash of lightning outside.

“Told you,” you muttered.

You didn’t have to see Peter to know he was rolling his eyes.

“What now?” Your asked.

“Well, the power’s out. We have two options. Have sex, or I got ‘Back to the Future’ on my laptop.” Peter said.

“I mean, we already explored the idea of sex so that seems like the best idea. I’m down,”

“If Ned were here would that still be the best idea?” Peter asked

“I mean, if Ned wouldn’t mind sitting out here while we fuck in your bedroom, then sure,” you joked.

Peter laughed “Back to the Future?”

“Sure,” you agreed.

Peter disappeared for a moment, making his way to his bedroom to find his laptop.

There was a loud bang and you heard Peter say “Fuck,”

You laughed, knowing Peter must have walked into something.

“Thanks for asking if I’m okay,” Peter said, walking back into the room.

“You’re spiderman. I’m supposed to be worried about you walking in the dark now?”

“A little concern would be nice,”

Peter came and sat down beside you. You were leaning on him, as he placed his laptop on his lap and looked for the movie.

“Hey Pete,”

“Mmhmm,” Peter mumbled, still searching his laptop.

“You know I wasn’t lying when I said I was down,”

“What?” Peter asked

“I wasn’t lying when I said I was down,”

“No, I heard what you said I just… I don’t believe you,”

“You don’t believe me?”


“Why not?” You asked.

You felt like you had made a fool of yourself to Peter. You had just admitted that you would be open to doing things with Peter and all he had to say was that he thought you were lying.

“Come on, Y/N. We joke about this all the time. We joke about sex and being in a relationship and living happily ever after one day. But we joke, I’ve accepted that that’s not actually going to happen because we’re just friends and you don’t feel that way about me,”

“Have you ever thought that maybe I actually do feel that way about you?”

“Don’t joke about that Y/N, you could never like someone like me,”

“What on earth are you talking about Peter?”

“I mean you’re so amazing, how on earth could you actually like me? You’re just fucking with me. It’s really not that funny,”

“Peter i’m not fucking with you, but I would like to fuck you. Jesus Christ, Peter. I have feelings for you,”

“Wait… you do?” Peter asked

“Yes!” You exclaimed.

“I have feelings for you too, Y/N,”

“So about that ‘best idea’…” you said, raising your eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Peter laughed “I mean, like you said, I’m down,”

“Then what are you waiting for Parker?”

Peter quickly placed his laptop on the coffee table in front of him and leaned down to kiss you. He moved his lips against yours, using his teeth to lightly nip at your bottom lip.

He moved his hands to your waist, so they were slightly riding up your shirt.

You pulled away, “You could at least take me to your bedroom before you tried to take your clothes off,”

Peter laughed, “As you wish, my dear,”

Peter stood up and offered you his hand. You graciously took it and let him lead you to his bedroom.

“Man I am so happy Ned’s away this weekend,” You said.

A Little Like Whiplash

(based on this, part two of this, Russian translations under the story itself) 

Jonathan isn’t generally a judgemental person. He likes to think that he sees the best in most people, even if they don’t deserve it.

For some reason, he’s never been able to do that with Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian bombshell that nobody knows or cares to know because he’s terrifying and has a tendency to be an asshole.

He has the distinct impression that Yuri, despite clearly not being a scholarship kid (he’s wearing designer everything, and he drives a Maserati; there’s no way that he came to Portland State for any reason other than that he wanted to), would rather be anywhere but here. He sleeps through the two classes that he shares with Jonathan, and for some reason, the professors allow it. If he was a bit less of an antisocial shit, though, Jonathan would probably have a crush; for all his faults, Yuri is one the most attractive person that he’s ever seen outside of magazines with his immaculately braided, waist-length hair and pouty lips and perfect eyeliner (Jonathan is sure he’s the only one that’s noticed that last bit; the subtlety of it is the reason it’s so damn perfect).

The first time he ever actually says anything, it’s one of those days that the professor decides, for whatever reason, not to show up for class. Until the fifteen minute limit passes, the class hums with a low buzz of noise. Yuri, predictably, is asleep.

Jonathan has a few friends in this class, Anthony and Thomas, and they’re chatting quietly about the baseball game on Saturday. Somehow, the topic shifts to that one asshole that’s always sleeping through class.

“Fifteen minutes!” The girl by the door calls out, and the class gets up.

“I’m just saying, why pay for the classes if you’re just gonna sleep through them?” Anthony says, shouldering his bag and heading for the door.

There’s a snort from behind them. Veronica. Jonathan really doesn’t want to deal with her right now; she’s even worse than Yuri, if only because she isn’t quiet about her disdain for the rest of them. “You know they only accept applications from people like him because he’s part of a minority, right?”

When she sees Jonathan’s raised eyebrows, she mistakes his irritation for curiosity. “Come on, don’t tell me you can’t tell. He’s a goddamn fairy.”

He’s wondering if outing himself here and now would make the situation better or worse when there’s an angry “Huh?” from behind them. The loud bang that follows terrifies all of them, but particularly Jonathan, Veronica, and the other two. Jonathan hadn’t even noticed that Yuri was awake, much less that he was nearby. Now his foot is against the wall, not even an inch from Veronica’s head (flexible, Jonathan can’t help but think). The look on his face pumps shards of ice through Jonathan’s veins.

“There is nothing wrong with being gay,” he growls.

His voice is different than Jonathan would have expected; maybe it’s a bit stereotypical, but he’d expected a low tenor, rather than a mezzo baritone, and his accent is there, but not nearly as thick as Jonathan expected. He stalks out of the room dangerously, and the entire class just stands there in shock for a moment.

Next week, when Veronica stops coming to class and he hears that she’s been expelled, Jonathan is sure that it has everything to do with the rich guy sleeping two seats behind him.

“Jonathan, there are only three people in your group for the upcoming term paper,” the professor says, jolting Jonathan out of his thoughts. It’s true; he, Anthony, and Thomas are planning on working together, since there were an odd number of people in the class. Now that Veronica is gone, that’s not true anymore. “I’m assigning Yuri to your group.”

Fantastic, Jonathan thinks, glancing at Yuri.

He looks up blearily and mutters something in the most snide, sarcastic voice Jonathan has ever heard– yoroshiku onegaishimasu –before dropping his head back on his arms. That didn’t sound like Russian, Jonathan thinks, packing up to leave.

Thomas nudges him. “Dude!” he whispers. “He speaks Japanese? What the hell? And I think that was supposed to be polite, but it sounded like an insult.”

“He can also hear you,” comes from behind them. Yuri has apparently given up on sleep since class is over, and has his phone in his hand. The one that isn’t texting reaches behind him and tugs on something that releases the bun he’s sporting today, letting the waist-length braid fall down his back. He leans his face in one hand and stares at his phone boredly. “You three aren’t the most oblivious people I know, but you’re definitely in the top twenty.”

Jonathan doesn’t know what to say, really. The hottest, laziest guy in class is in a group with him for a paper that’s worth twenty percent of their grade, and their first conversation has gotten off to the worst start possible.

“So,” Anthony says awkwardly. “When do you guys want to meet up?”

“I’m only free on Tuesdays. Yuri, I’m pretty sure you only have class twice a week? Maybe we can meet up for lunch,” Thomas says, trying a friendly approach.

“I can’t meet up on my days off. I have training. It’s a paper on the Japan’s involvement in World War II and how it affects today, right?” Yuri asks, still looking bored.

“Yeah. What do you mean? Do you practice all day on every one of your days off or something?” Anthony sounds mildly teasing, but there’s an undertone of disbelief there.

Yuri looks at Anthony, as if he can’t believe he would ask such a stupid question. “Um, yes? What else would I be doing?”

None of them really has a response for that. Yuri doesn’t look like the athletic type, really. He’s lean, almost willowy; not skinny by any means, since there’s definitely muscle there, but it’s not the build Jonathan would expect from an athlete who practices as much as Yuri claims to.

“Anyway, I’ll deal with the history part,” Yuri says, standing up and stretching. Jonathan tries not to stare at the thin strip of skin that appears when he does. What? He may be an asshole, but Yuri is gorgeous. He’d have to be dead not to notice. “I’ll have it to you by… Tuesday, right?”

“I can do Tuesday,” Jonathan says, not really sure what’s happening anymore.

“So can I.”

Yuri blinks and glances at the table searchingly. “Right,” he says, picking up a sticky note he’d left there and scribbling something down. “Here’s my number. Text me your emails and I’ll send you my part of the project. Bye.”

He walks out of the room, phone already at his ear. “Beka! Vy prikhodite na obed segodnya?

Jonathan looks at Anthony and Thomas, not totally sure what just happened. “So who’s going to pick up the slack on his part?”

That’s not actually necessary, it turns out. Jonathan sent Yuri his email out of courtesy, but when he rolls out of bed on Saturday morning, he finds four pages of 12 point Times New Roman font on Japan’s involvement in World War II, complete with instructions to let Yuri know if there’s anything else that they want him to do (but he won’t be doing the whole damn thing, he doesn’t have time for that).

Except for a few grammatical errors, there’s almost nothing wrong with the work. Jonathan is floored. Maybe this is why the professors let Yuri sleep through class. It’s disrespectful as all hell, but from the way he writes, it’s almost like he doesn’t need to be there at all.

When he’s awake and recovered enough to send a reply, he does. He lets Yuri that there’s nothing wrong with the work, and that he’s looking forward to class on Wednesday. He’s not, but it’s the polite thing to do.

Apparently, Yuri doesn’t planning on extending the same courtesy. “Can’t make it,” he says again, looking bored as he taps away on his phone.

This time, Jonathan actually speaks up. “We could meet up after you’re done with practice or something. It actually works out better for me and Anthony, since we have class on Tuesday.”

“That would work, I guess, but I’m going to be in Japan on Tuesday.” The tone of Yuri’s voice doesn’t change, despite the bomb he’s just dropped.

Why the hell would anyone just up and leave for Japan in the middle of the semester? No matter how rich Yuri is (and he’s definitely rich; they may not know anything about him, but he’s definitely a rich Russian of some sort) it makes no sense. He’s going to miss at least three days of class even if he’s only going to be in Japan for one day, which Jonathan highly doubts. He doesn’t care how pretty or smart this kid thinks he is, there’s no way for him to pass his classes with the way he acts.

“Then cancel it.” He doesn’t even realize that he’s saying the words until they’re out of his mouth, and by then it’s too late.

The look that Yuri fixes on him is as dangerous as it was that day with Veronica. “Fuck you.”

Jonathan backpedals. “I didn’t mean–”

Yuri’s phone rings, cutting him off. The ringtone in itself is enough to cause all three jaws to drop; it’s some classical thing with a boys’ choir singing in what sounds like Latin. Yuri sneers at them, and Jonathan can’t help but think he may have fucked up pretty bad. “Just send me whatever part you want me to handle for the presentation and I’ll do it. Tell me to cancel my trip again, and I won’t do my bit. I’ll still pass without this stupid project.”

He gets up and stalks toward the door, picking up the phone. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way to the parking lot now. Shit! Would it kill you to wait a minute and a half, Dad? I said I’ll be there in a minute! Katsudon, get your husband off the goddamn phone when he’s driving. Do you want to die?”

Yet again, there’s this feeling of not really knowing what’s happening by the time Yuri is out of sight. I’ll still pass without this stupid project, he said. That’s almost impossible, unless he has an A in the class. Which he shouldn’t, because he sleeps through it. His participation grade alone should have dropped him to a B unless he’s gotten A’s on every single assignment. There’s no way.

“I need a drink,” Jonathan mutters, and there are murmured agreements from Anthony and Thomas both. “You guys want to go to Shizuku?”

“I’m down.” Anthony says. “Hell, I’ll pay. My treat, after all of that bullshit.”

It’s not even ten minutes to their favorite restaurant by car, but they figure it’ll be easier to walk. There’s no point in driving three cars to get to one place, and none of them are keen on getting their cars out of the student lot right now, since it’s nearly rush hour.

It takes them about thirty minutes to get there, and it’s blessedly empty when they do. There are only a few occupied tables. Still, it seems louder than it usually does, Jonathan notices as they’re waiting to be seated. There’s one table in particular that seems to be making more noise than the rest of the restaurant combined. That makes sense, he thinks, eyeing the back of a silver-haired man’s head. There are a lot of them. At least six, it looks like.

Posmotrite na kotenke, Beka! Eto tak milo! Posmotrite na svoikh malen'kikh lapakh i khvoste.” That voice… it sounds way too happy to be him, but given how the day has gone, Jonathan wouldn’t be surprised.

The silver haired guy moves slightly. It looks like he leaned his face on his hand. “Yurio, don’t be rude. You and your friend aren’t the only people at this table, you know. Richard and Estephania are here too, and they don’t speak Russian.”

“It’s fine,” the person on silver haired’s left says. She has long, dark hair that swishes when she shakes her head. “It’s funny to see Yuri so excited about something for once.”

Jonathan gets a partial view of someone with dark hair and a very serious face. It’s almost scary how quickly he realises that he’s being looked at, and he looks Jonathan dead in the eye. The man nods once, then looks away without acknowledging him further.

“Beka? What are you looking at?” A head of blond hair comes into view, and Jonathan finds himself looking directly into the eyes of Yuri Plisetsky.

I fucked up, Jonathan thinks immediately, watching the mirth drain out of Yuri’s eyes almost instantly, replaced with irritation.

“Johnny? What is it– Oh, shit.” Anthony hides behind a menu.

“If you’re stalking me, I swear to god I will shove my silverware up your respective asses,” Yuri says, looking dead serious. “I have more than enough stalkers.”

That’s cause enough for Jonathan to pause and wonder what he means, but then the strangest thing happens. Instead of looking even remotely alarmed, the way any normal person would, the three people with their backs facing toward Jonathan, Anthony, and Thomas all turn at a totally normal, unhurried pace. Two of them, the silver haired man and the Asian looking man next to him, are even smiling.

“Hello!” the silver haired man says, waving. “Are you Yurio’s friends? Here, come sit with us! We’ve never met any of his friends from school before.”

Who the hell says something like that after hearing him call us stalkers? Jonathan thinks, feeling out of his element and way too overwhelmed. There’s really nothing to do but accept, so the three of them walk to the table as a group.

“Ya dumal, chto u vas ne bylo druzey v Amerike,” the serious man says to Yuri quietly, probably trying not to be heard.

Yuri looks murderous. “Ya ne.”

There’s a split second war between Thomas, Jonathan, and Anthony as to who is going to sit next to the scary serious guy. Jonathan loses. It’s fine. He’ll take scary serious guy over angry Yuri Plisetsky any day.

“My name is Otabek. Yuri is my best friend,” scary serious guy says, holding out a hand.

Jonathan takes it hesitantly, but Otabek’s grip isn’t anything but polite. “Jonathan. That’s Thomas, and that’s Anthony. We take American History with Yuri.”

“My name is Victor, and this is my husband Yuuri! Not your Yuri, we call him Yurio,” the silver haired man says. The Japanese man next to him blushes, and Jonathan supposes that he’s the other Yuuri.

“I will shove my knife shoes so far up your ass, Nikiforov, that you won’t be able to sit for a year,” Yuri warns.

“Yurio is our son. We’re so glad Yuri is actually making friends at school, I was worried for a while. I’m sure you know how tricky he can be sometimes,” Victor continues, ignoring the incredibly violent threat as if it happens every day. What the hell did Yuri even mean by knife shoes, anyway?

“You shut the fuck up, old man!”

It doesn’t surprise Jonathan in the slightest that Yuri has two dads; it explains a lot about the whole incident with Veronica earlier this year. What he is surprised about is the fact that Yuri’s dads seem so… nice.

Jonathan isn’t sure if that’s pleasant or terrifying.

“Victor and Yuuri are my figure skating coaches,” Yuri mutters, sounding like he’d rather be doing anything but this.

“Wait, you’re a figure skater?” Thomas asks, looking intrigued; seriously, how that guy manages to be so laid back all the time is– wait, what?

“Is that what you keep missing meetings to practice?” Jonathan asks. Suddenly it all makes sense: the lean muscle, the crazy flexibility and precision it would require to nearly kick someone in the head, the whole random flight to Japan.

The entire table erupts into laughter, even the Hispanic woman and the other man that they haven’t been introduced to yet.

Yuri turns bright red, looking both flustered and annoyed. “Oh, fuck off, all of you. Especially you, Katsudon! You have no right to laugh after what happened with these two.” He points aggressively at the two people Jonathan and the others don’t know.

The Japanese man, Yuuri, is the first one to manage to stop laughing. “I’m sorry, Yura. I’m laughing because I know how you feel.” He turns to Jonathan, Thomas, and Anthony, still smiling brightly. “He actually medalled at the Olympics last year. He’s won gold for Russia several times, as well.”

Jonathan isn’t the only person at the table with his jaw dropped. The waitress comes by and sets waters in front of the three of them. Even when she leaves, he still can’t figure out what he’s supposed to say. He’s pretty sure that earlier today, he just told an Olympian medalist to cancel a trip to what was probably a competition at the last minute. He wants to die of embarrassment, even if he had good reason.

“He probably didn’t mention it because he’s too angry that he let that Canadian get gold and he only got bronze,” Victor teases. He slings an arm around his husband. “Still, my son and my husband on the podium at the same time! It’s any man’s dream. I’m so proud!”

There’s a scraping noise on the table. When Jonathan looks down, he sees that Otabek slid over a phone with the screen open to a news article about men’s figure skating and yep, there’s Yuuri. And that’s definitely Yuri, but he looks… different. Happy. Jonathan looks from Otabek to Yuri to the article, then back to Otabek. He knows he’s panicking, because there’s nothing he can really say to make himself feel less awkward but maybe someone calm like Otabek can help him out.

Otabek gives him a thumbs up.

Translations (let me know if I need to fix any, I don’t speak Russian) 

yoroshiku onegaishimasu - Japanese - I look forward to working with you (yes, he’s being a sarcastic little shit here)

Vy prikhodite na obed segodnya? - Russian - roughly translates to “we’re still on for lunch today?”

Posmotrite na kotenke, Beka! Eto tak milo! Posmotrite na svoikh malen'kikh lapakh i khvoste. - Russian - Look at the kitten, Beka! It’s so cute! Look at its little paws and tail.

Ya dumal, chto u vas ne bylo druzey v Amerike - Russian - I thought you said you don’t have friends in America.

Ya ne. - Russian - I don’t.

SPN Hunters and Poverty

Ok the Original Post* was getting pretty long and I wanted to go off on a tangent so I’ve started a new one here:

So like, the audience is supposed to think it’s uncomfortable and possibly wrong for people whose job it is to save the world to have a certain level of luxury. Which is less than the one the people making the story have.

Honestly, I always knew they were there, but for the first time I’m actually kinda creeped out by the class issues in SPN (ok, I lie- the prices Creation charges creep me the fuck out, but aside from that. I mean in the actual story). Like, Sam and Dean are not truly poor anymore. But they do still live partially as working poor. They’re still economically insecure; depicted as, in some ways, working poor people who go into mostly middle-class and upper-middle-class communities, do a horrifying vital service, and then disappear. And it’s romantic, heroic. But it’s wrong.

Like, it’s actually a moral wrong that they should be poor. They deserve to be at least as economically stable as their creators.

We talk a lot about romanticizing violence, but what does it mean that the whole structure of the show honestly kinda romanticizes the poverty of the working class? Walmart is not romantic; it just sucks. @chiisana-sukima

Yes, American SPN Hunters are portrayed, generally, as working class (Winchesters, Campbells, Bobby) or middle class (Asa Fox, Jody, Donna). I think it is important to keep in mind that one reason full time hunters often seem poor is that the majority of what they are doing is a) considered criminal and b) needs to stay secret.  So they have to live under/off the radar.  In order to do that, you need to be either VERY, VERY wealthy (and bribe everyone) or you have to commit fraud on a daily basis. Assuming none of our hunters have endless supplies of cash, being cheap helps with the daily committing fraud process. Here’s why/how:

1) Hunters scam credit cards  - because they can’t hold down a real job and hunt, which means they have no means of income (other than technically criminal activity like hustling pool and looting the monster victims). Also, they can’t BE themselves - they cannot afford to be traced - by the authorities OR by the very smart humanoid monsters they hunt. Scammed cards can get detected really fast if you are throwing money around. Also, scammed cards are only as good as their limit (which is likely to be low) - so you want to make them last as long as possible. Lastly, when your card IS caught, skeevy, ethically questionable places are less likely to report it to the police. So Hunters look for cheap, dive places to spend their fake cash. Note: often some of these skeevy places are NOT less expensive than the Holiday In Express - they just ask fewer questions or will rent a room without a credit card or will forget you were there (or are more used to cleaning up blood from sheets).

2) Hunters are con men - they have to pretend to be authority figures/repairmen/teachers/social workers/lost relatives in order to get the information they need. They need to be ‘noticed’ as little as possible and leave almost record of their stay. Using a credit card leaves a trail - so that means using cash in places that won’t notice cash, and eating in places that see (and forget) lots of strangers. They also need to be hard to find when their identity is questioned. Who would look for the FBI in a skeevy hotel? Those two shifty guys in flannel coming out of the dilapidated Inn on rt 20 couldn’t possibly be the nice men we talked to earlier today…[of course the giant black car and hunter’s ridiculously good looks aren’t a problem, but that’s tv land for you].

3) Hunters are rural nomads - Notice that, in general, Hunters try to stay out of cities. While one of the main themes of SPN was supposed to be a focus on ‘heartland America’  - but really, woods monsters hide in rural areas, and (in theory) many human-eating monsters are are nomads, roaming for food. Thus Hunters focus on rural America and move around a lot following the monsters. Rural America is full of very small towns/places with no other option than the 1-2 star hotel (or less). One of my fav personal stories is of staying in the ONE motel in the entire COUNTY in TN - and it was EXACTLY the kind of place a Hunter would stay (right down to the friendly diner next door and the truck stop on the other side).  If you were wealthy and wanted to stay in that area - you rented a whole HOUSE/cabin in the nearby picturesque woods  - which is likely to get VERY noticed - or you stayed 30-50 inconvenient miles away.

US Hunters Evolving: Donna and Jody are an exception to many of the above statements. But they are a different kind of hunter - one that fans feel is an evolution of the American Hunter - the regional protectors. Jody and Donna, both suburban middle class, use their actual positions of authority to learn about and track monsters and also to cover up the evidence. They keep their own gerenal area ‘clean’ and call in “full time” nomadic hunters to deal with scarier stuff or stuff they hear about outside their territories. Their positions and training also make them capable fighters - brave, good with guns, etc.

US Hunters Best of a Broken System: Lastly, remember that the US did have a system more like that of the BMOL - academic magicians in authority directing local hunters to kill problems. What the US has NOW is what developed as a stop gap when the MoL vanished. Hunters like Dorothy and Mr. Ketch (shudder) trained others to keep the monsters at bay. They were focused on the find and kill part - not the administrative outlook of “Hey, if we are smart and make enough $, we can do this job better, faster and more efficiently.”  ‘Cause *I* know I sleep better in nicer hotels and I WORK better if I’m really well rested. Sam and Dean are MACHINES, really, - the stuff they pull off given how crappy they treat their bodies…

In Conclusion: Hell, I’ve lost the thread of where I was really going with this…it has devolved into an examination of WHY the class differences exist between US and British ‘hunter systems’. Not sure I’ve addressed @chiisana-sukima‘s concern about the morality of SPN implying that hunters SHOULD be poor or working class. 

Anyone else?

Touch Starved III

So this was supposed to be fluffy. But then Morality ended up having a lot of emotions, and all, it didn’t stay that way. Sorry guys. Also my inspiration while writing this was “Sleepsong” by Secret Garden

Part I Part II Part IV

As Anxiety shuffled into the dining room the next morning, he kept his eyes downcast and his shoulders hunched. A large part of him was hissing in the back of mind to flee, to hide away in his room. But he’d promised Prince he’d come out today. He’d also promised himself to try and let the others get this whole touch thing out of their system.

Also he hadn’t had the chance to eat last night after dropping the plate, so he was really freaking hungry. Truthfully that had been the only thing that had allowed him to work up the willpower to come down.

Still keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the floor, he slunk over to his seat, flopping down in it with a huff. Once sitting, he allowed his eyes to flick upwards. Logic was sitting across from him with a newspaper. Seeing Anxiety looking at him, he raised his cup in greeting.

“Salutations, Anxiety,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Sure,” Anxiety said flatly. “Whatever.”

Thankfully before Logic had a chance to reply and make the situation even more awkward, Morality swooped in with a plate covered in bacon.

“Good morning!” he sang out. “I made toast, bacon, eggs and sausages!”

“Do you have jam for the toast?” Prince asked, entering the room.

Morality hummed. “I’m not sure,” he said, “You can go check the cupboards though.”

Prince nodded and ducked into the kitchen. Logic had turned his attention more fully to his paper, which meant that the only person left for Morality to focus on was…

“Anxiety!” Morality beamed at him. “I’m glad you came down. Make sure to take as much food as you like, kiddo. And if you want something else, just ask, ok?”

Anxiety shifted uncomfortably. See all this fussing and special treatment was what he was trying to avoid.

“This is fine,” he muttered, reaching out to grab a slice of toast. He shoved it in his mouths without even bothering to butter it, too determined to have an excuse not to talk.

Morality wasn’t deterred though. He kept chattering on. “Well I’m glad! I’m really happy you cam down today, I was starting to get a bit worried. So do you have any plans for today?”

Anxiety squinted at Morality. Where was this going?

“No,” he eventually said slowly. “Not really.”

“Do you want to rematch the Lego Batman movie with me then?” Morality asked bouncing up and down in his seat. “Logic isn’t interested, and Roman said he was going to be busy coming up with video ideas today.”

Anxiety almost said no. But then he remembered his stupid promise.

“Yeah, sure I guess,” he mumbled. Just let them get it out of their system, he reminded himself. Then it will go back to normal. You’ll be left alone again.

“Yay!” Morality clapped his hands together. “I have to take care a few things first, but want to meet up in the common room after lunch.”

“Sounds great,” Anxiety replied, moodily poking at his bacon. At least he’d have time to mentally prepare himself.

After lunch, (they typically were on their own for lunch, with breakfast and dinner begin the designated “family” times), Anxiety made his way into the common room. Morality was already there, sitting on the couch, remote in hand.

“Hey, Anxiety,” he waved. “I’ve got the movie all set up, so just come sit down.”

Normally, Anxiety would have gone to one of the armchairs to sit. But this time he sat down right next to Morality, feeling their legs brush together. Morality looked a bit startled, but thankfully didn’t comment.

“I love this movie so much,” he chattered, “It’s just so cute!”

“It’s ok,” Anxiety said flatly. He did actually like the movie. Somehow it had ended up being more true to the comics than most movie portrayals of Batman were. That didn’t mean he had to be enthusiastic though. He’d already shown up, Morality wasn’t getting much more out of him.

Not fifteen minutes into the movie, Anxiety could feel Morality begin to fidget. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the other side. He looked weirdly nervous.

After a few more minutes, Anxiety felt Morality shift again. His arm, which had previously been at his side, now stretched up and over, until it rested on the back of the couch. It wasn’t really touching Anxiety, but he was aware of its proximity, just a hair’s breadth away from being around his shoulders.

He could feel himself tense a little, but forced himself to relax. It was fine. It made Morality happy. He could deal with it.

As the movie went on, Anxiety found himself focusing less and less on Morality’s nearness to him. Mostly because he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He hadn’t really slept much the night before. Sure, he’d tried, but he’d just ended up tossing and turning all night, his mind refusing to shut up.

And, well, sitting on the couch, the noise from the TV a comforting drone, who could blame him for struggling to stay awake. Soon, it became too much effort all together, and his exhaustion dragged him under.

There was some kind of noise above him. Still not opening his eyes, Anxiety tried to figure out where he was. He was lying on something warm, and moving?

As the fog in his mind lifted a little, he abruptly realized that at some point while he was sleeping he had leaned against Morality, and he was now partially lying on his chest, and Morality’s arm was now really wrapped around him. And that noise? That was Morality talking.

“You know I remember, when you first appeared in the mindscape,” Morality was saying softly. “You were so small, I just wanted to wrap you up in a blanket. But then you didn’t seem to want any of us near you, so I thought that maybe it was better to keep my distance. To let you make the first move.”

Morality took in a long shaky breath. He sounded as though he was on the verge of tears. Anxiety didn’t move. He wasn’t sure what to do. Morality clearly thought he was still asleep, and he wasn’t sure what the other would do if he realized Anxiety was awake. So he just stayed frozen, keeping careful control of his breathing.

“That was a mistake,” Morality whispered, his tone full of guilt and pain. “I should have known better. I should have made sure you knew you could reach out. Instead I just left you alone, for years. That’s not how a father should act.”

He paused again, sniffing softly. Was he actually crying now?

“And now,” he said sadly, “you’re too scared to even let us help you. You flinch every time we come near you, and you look so confused every time we so much as pat you on the back, like you can’t understand what or why we’re doing that.”

Anxiety felt the hand on his back rise to run its fingers through his hair.

“The only reason you’ve let me this close is because you’re asleep,” Morality continued, “And when you wake up, it’ll just be like before, you’’ll keep looking at us like you expect us to hurt you. And I hate that.”

Morality was definitely crying now.

“I hate that we did hurt you,” he sobbed. “I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to be safe. I wanted you to know that we would look out for you, no matter what. But we didn’t, and I know we’re trying to fix it, but I’m scared that maybe we were too late. God, I hope we weren’t too late.”

Despite the warm arms now clinging desperately to him, Anxiety felt cold. He’d known this hadn’t been a joke, Prince had made it pretty clear that they were serious about this. But this was way more than he had expected. Helpless in the face of what he was now realizing was more than just simple pity, he stayed silent and still.

Morality’s words weren’t intelligible anymore. He only let out sob-filled mumbles, as he pressed his face into Anxiety’s hair. Eventually, the sobbing trailed off.

“I love you, kiddo,” he whispered. “I hope you’ll figure that out someday. We all love you. You’re family, you’ll always be our family.”

Morality sighed, sounding weary.

“I should probably get you back to your room before you wake up,” he said. “I don’t- you’ll be happier if you wake up there.”

With that, Anxiety felt himself being gently lifted upwards, cradled in Morality’s arms. The other side began to walk, carrying him towards his room. The entire time, Anxiety kept his eyes shut.

After a brief fumble with the door, Morality let himself in, and Anxiety felt himself being placed on the bed. A hand brushed his bangs back, and a pair of lips gently pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Sleep well, Anxiety,” Morality murmured. “I hope your dreams are happy. I hope they’re kinder to you than we’ve been.”

Anxiety heard him walk away, the door shutting behind him. Once he was sure Morality was gone, he sat up.

He stared at the now closed door in dismay. This-this wasn’t something he could just indulge for a few days and make it go away. They were- this wasn’t something small

What am I going to do? he thought. I didn’t- I never wanted Morality to cry because of me. But how do I handle this?

He pulled his knees up to his chest, his arms wrapping around them. He was Anxiety, he was supposed to be alone. But apparently the others had decided that wasn’t true.

Part of him wanted to say that it was all a lie, that if they were telling the truth, it would never have been like this in the first place. But a greater part of him knew that there was no dismissing what he had just heard. For better or for worse, the others were serious.

Which meant he was going to have to find a way to deal with it. Anxiety let himself think about what it was like being curled up in Morality’s arms. It-it hadn’t been terrible. It had been awkward, sure, especially since he’d had no idea what to do.

But, at the same time, when he had first been waking up, before he’d realized what Morality was saying, it had actually felt kind of nice.

Hesitantly, Anxiety tried to imagine what it would be like for the others to touch him, what it might be like to hug them. It was… a weird thought. Not bad necessarily, but it also felt kind of overwhelming.

Although, hadn’t Logic said that they’d work up to that? That they weren’t going to try and hug Anxiety right now because they knew it would be too much?

Anxiety chewed on his lower lip. Maybe this wouldn’t be bad? True, he still thought he would be fine without all this fuss and touchy-feely stuff. But, the others cared. And as much as he hated to admit it, knowing that actually made Anxiety feel good. He’d always just figured they’d hated him. After all, why wouldn’t they?

But if they didn’t hate him, and if this whole thing was more than just pity, if it was them maybe trying to show they cared. Then maybe, just maybe, he could let them in.

Anxiety really hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be a mistake. If it was, he knew he’d never get over it.

hey guys i rated the cleffa sprites

Gold: Simple. Arms extended out for a hug. 8/10

Silver: Arms not extended out for a hug, but instead on her face to extenuate her cuteness. Not sure which one I like better 8/10

Crystal: Less round, more like the shape she is today and also LOOK AT HER SHE’S SO GOOD AAAAAAA. She’s supposed to animate, if she’s not for you just trust me, it’s really cute. 11/10

Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald/FireRed/LeafGreen: This sprite is the start of her tilting to the side. This goes on for many years. Not sure why, but I hope she’s okay. Also more advanced graphics allow her to be a softer pink. I like this. She waves hello. 9/10

Diamond/Pearl: Again with the tilting. She probably thinks she looks cute. She is right. 9/10

Platinum: Her back hurt from all the tilting. She is happy because she can be comfortable again. The smile really puts it over the edge. 10/10

HeartGold/SoulSilver: Even more soft pink, though only slightly. This pleases me. I would give her any amount of money she asked for. Please animate Cleffa more often. 11/10

Black/White/Black 2/White 2: Step, step, ear wiggle. Not sure if those are ears, but they are cute. Thank you for animating her more. 12/10

X/Y/ORAS/Sun/Moon: I love her dance. Animation is simple. 10/10


A good, nice pink and green which is my favorite color. She deserves to be rare and I hope she lives a long happy life. Everything/10


Mr Thesassygandalf got me a present *-*

Spencer Reid / Countless

As requested by @ohbelieveyoume

Prompt: “I just can’t stop thinking about you…I can’t”

Omg, I feel guilty after writing this fic guys. I apologize for the angst I’m laying upon you today. This poor sweet boy deserves happiness. He’s been through so much T.T.. This was supposed to be cute, but it ended up this way, I don’t know what happened. Also thank you to @mrsrafaelbarba for the help! <3 I hope you all enjoy!! 

Originally posted by hisirishsoufflegirl

Keep reading

Guys. GUYS.

I got my 10th anniversary edition of the name of the wind today!!!!

And it’s just soo weird because it’s not supposed to be released until next week right?? But I got it and let me tell you it’s just so perfect.

I’m not gonna show you anymore pictures because spoilers and also I don’t really feel I have the right to since it hasn’t been officially released yet, but it’s so fantastic

How it looks, all the pictures inside, the feel of it, the weight of it, the colour (!! You’ll get it when you see it) and of course all the extra material!

The hype is beyond words, I’m just walking around smiling like a fool. Please someone send help!

Hello guys!!+(人*ò∀<*)+

Today I was hanging out with my junior high school friends!! I was so happy to meet Kurokocchi, Aominecchi and Momoicchi. It’s been a while since we met. Last time we met was at my birthday. ・゜・(PДóq。)・゜ Midorimacchi supposed to come too but he had something else to do so he couldn’t came. ∑(*òДó )

Oh! I also decided to sleepover at Kurokocchi’s house. Yay ε=(◞ ò∀ó*)◞ ε=(◞ ò∀ó*)◞ ε=(◞ ò∀ó*)◞

NCT 127 Reacting To You Getting Clingy When You’re Jealous

~Not requested~


 He doesn’t even have the guts to speak to other girls , you had just seen someone stare at him a little too long and that’s where your jealousy kicked in, making you quickly take his hand in yours and give him a quick peck on the cheek, looking at the girl the whole time. He would get flustered due to the sudden clingyness (that’s not a word but lets just go with it) and would kinda just stare at you all wide eyed like tf you doing???

‘E-erm Y/N what’s gotten into you?’

Originally posted by nctinfo


A fan would’ve approached and keep complimenting him, your relationship was public anyway so you wouldn’t be able to help yourself but latch onto his side. He’d look over at you with a raised eyebrow but wouldn’t actually say anything till the fan had gone, when she had you still refused to let go of him making him laugh. He thought it was really cute that you got clingy when you were jealous and would love it so much.

‘You do realise she’s gone right?’

Originally posted by lq-johnny


He invited you back stage to see him and you see the make up stylist doing his makeup (that is her job duh) but also being slightly flirty, complimenting his face structure, his skin and eyes. You would walk behind him when the stylist was done and wrapped your arms around the back of him, placing kisses all over his face. He would love your sudden burst of clingyness but at the same time would laugh really awkwardly as he’s lowkey embarrassed because of all the people the room, including his members.

‘Hehe it’s nice to see you too jagi but… there’s people here.’ *nervous laughter*

Originally posted by haechanz


You’d be sitting together in a cafe, probably sitting opposite because it was easier for you two to talk. However when you turned around only to see a group of girls staring at Yuta and giggling together you couldn’t help yourself but get out of your booth and sit next to him, snuggling into his chest. He had obviously noticed the girls so would know why you had gotten up, he would just smirk and kiss your forehead so the other girls know that he’s taken, also reassuring you that he wasn’t going to try anything. Expect light teasing though~

’Wow you’re really that jealous huh?’

Originally posted by i-am-whalien-95


You were both on a date when a small group of fans approached you both with albums and a fudge ton of Doyoung posters, you got lowkey jealous of how many of them there was and how they all were Doyoung stans. You linked your arm through his and he kinda looked at you all shook like what??? When they left he started nagging slightly but at the same time reassuring you so you didn’t feel so awful about it. Wouldn’t hesitate in showing his distaste and saying all the bad situations your actions could’ve caused though.

‘You need to be more careful Y/N, what if we weren’t public or they start a rumor about us?’

Originally posted by jaedoworld


Jaehyun insisted you come to see his dance practice so of course you decided to go, but what you didn’t expect to see was another female trainee. She was constantly going to Jaehyun and complimenting his dance and how good he looked when he concentrated. When they were mid conversation you walked over and flung your arms around him, nearly knocking you both to the ground. If anything he’d just smile down at you and say how cute you are, whilst this is happening the trainee left making you smirk at your victory.

‘Ahh Jagi you’re so cute when you’re clingy~’

Originally posted by neotechs


Poor bean would be so unaware of the situation, he didn’t even notice the group of girls staring at him or even realise they were whistling at him. You noticed though, all too well. You would link your arm with his, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked, which yes was quite uncomfortable but you were trying to make a point. Winwin would become so flustered though and kinda just stare down at you and asking you what you were doing, stuttering the whole time though. 

‘J-jagi…e-erm what a-are you doing?’

Originally posted by blackgirlslovebts


Mark most likely was already flustered when a fan approached you both and started throwing all sorts of compliments at him, mildly flirting with him to top that. You would pull Mark into your arms and snuggle into his chest, this makes him so much more flustered you don’t even know. He’d have his arms out and eyes wide open because he doesn’t know how to handle the situation and looks from you to the fan and back to you again. He stutter out a thank you to the fan and she eventually leaves, making you get off of Mark like nothing happened. Confused beam right here~

’W-what just happened jagiya?’

Originally posted by taetmosphere


He invited you backstage so you could congratulate him or just boost his ego, not to get jealous of the maknae hair stylist. You couldn’t help yourself though as when you walked in she was doing everything but styling his hair so you made your way over and leaned down to give him a peck on the cheek. You’d also be a lil bit petty and start playing with his hair right in front of the stylist and just cling onto him. He’d be caught off guard at first but once his composure is regained he’s just smirking and teasing you throughout the whole time.

‘Hmm I wonder why you’re so clingy today…Oh wait I know why it’s because I did amazing today just like everyday~’

Originally posted by haecha

Okay this was supposed to be out yesterday but I didn’t get time to finish it as something came up, sorry guys but it’s here now~

We are literally 8 followers away from 500!!! I made the ask prompt yesterday so hopefully it’ll be uploaded later today, I can’t wait!

We have so much love for you guys and I can’t believe how far this blog has come, thank you all for the support and loving us~ Stay safe all of you and remember to take care of yourselves!

~Admin Stroni~

I´m supposed to be posting something about the 100 days of productivity challenge but that is not even important. Today is september 15th a national celebration in Mexico because of the Independence (you know, like United Sates 4th July and we do all the things you guys think we do in may 5th). I can hear people screaming “Viva Mexico” outside in the streets. “Viva” means “hooray”… it also means alive…


Mara Fernanda Castilla Miranda. She was 19 years old. Yes, was. She was murdered. Today Puebla´s goverment confirmed her death. She got missing last friday, September 8th at midnight. She went dancing that night and she took a cab from “Cabify” (it works like Uber) so she could go home. But she never arrived. 

May 3th, 2017. A woman was founded death inside the campus of the most important university in Mexico: UNAM. Her name was Lesvy Osorio Berlín, she was 22 years old and her boyfriend killed her. The PGJ (Procuraduría General de Justicia, a goverment organization that investigates crimes) twitted things about her: She drank alcohol, she leaved school, she liked parties. Like if that explained why she was killed. Like if it was her fault. 

#SiMeMatan (If they Kill Me) was a reaction from women in Mexico to those tweets. It wasn´t her fault. It´s never the victims fault. That day Mara twitted: “#SiMeMatan es porque me gustaba salir de noche” (If they kill me it´s because I liked to go out at night).

Every day, seven women are killed in Mexico

Every hour, three or four women are raped

Mexico is the 3rd place in feminicides around the world.

Being a woman in Mexico is dangerous. 

#NiUnaMás (Not even one more)

#VivasNosQueremos (We want us alive)

They call us feminazis. They laugh about us. They make memes about us. They blame girls for being raped, killed, missing. We failed Mara because a man took her life. We failed the other six women that died today. But will keep fighting, screaming, they won´t shut us down. They won´t die because they live in our fight. They´ll get the justice they deserve.

What can you do about this? Stay informed. Read about this girls. Not only about their murders but about who they were when they lived. If we scream, scream with us. 

Mara Fernanda Castilla Miranda, yo también grito tu nombre, como grito el de mis compañeras violadas, como gritaré por la justicia que se merecen. Perdónanos, Mara. No nos callarán. 

Tl;Dr at the bottom.

So earlier today this guy tried to short-change me. Which is, if you don’t know, means it will put my till under amount of bills I’m suppose to have.

Now I am a little bit ditzy but I’m also a hard worker and can remember a lot of stuff. So I see that I gave him his $16 in change back, the usual stuff. Well he says I didn’t give him his $10 and showed me his money.
Now the way I do money, I don’t know if everyone does this or its just me, I put the receipt down then the biggest to smallest bills. So receipt, 10, 5, 1. Well I have never in my life ever put a $1 underneath a $5.

So this guy shows me his hand of cash with a $1, $5, then another $1. I just smile at him and say, “I remember giving you a $10 and I saw you pull that $1 out of your pocket and stick the $10 inside. Have a nice day.”
I then stared at him with a big Retail™ smile until I shame him into leaving. Then I hear him grumbling about how it was unfair that I didn’t give more change.

Tl;dr so a guy tried to short-change my till and I knew he was lying, so I shame him into leaving by smiling.

Just wanted to say sorry for my inactivity with messages, asks, and writing lately!! Things have been a bit crazy with work and such and I graduate TOMORROW! But after that things should calm down a bit! ^.^

A Nice Fan Account || Jack

Jack masterpost found here

Word count - 1,498

Summary - The one where your past is exposed.

(Y/B/N) means your blog name

Jack had a habit of stalking fan accounts. Whether they were Tumblrs, Instagrams, or Twitters, Jack had a way of finding them and snooping. He found it endearing that people all over the world would dedicate entire accounts to him and his friends. Sure, some of the posts were over the top and caught him off guard, but the support and utter kindness was what stood out the most to him.

The younger Maynard had been asked many times whether or not he would date a fan. He often made jokes like, well who isn’t a fan of me these days? to avoid answering the question. Truly he had no problem with dating a fan. As long as they didn’t cry on a date or faint when they first met him, he had no problem with dating someone who enjoyed his videos; maybe even someone with a nice fan account.

You met Jack quite randomly. Looking back, you liked to call it fate. You were very new to London. You moved there from a small town on a whim, not knowing anybody and not having a single clue what was in store for you there. One day you were out in town. You just wanted to walk around and explore but after a while you wound up lost. Your phone had naturally died which meant not only could you not call an Uber, but you also couldn’t check your maps to figure out where to go. On top of it all, even if you wanted to hop in a taxi, you didn’t know the address to your new flat to send them to. So, you resorted to buying a map of the area from a local tourist shop and walked around the streets of London feeling like quite the idiot.

After what felt like hours of wandering aimlessly around the city, you decided you had quite enough. You approached the first group of people you came across and asked them if they had any clue how to get Vauxhall Station; it was the nearest landmark you knew to be by your flat. Once you got there you were fairly certain you’d be able to find the rest of the way on your own. At that point, you were willing to try anything.

You were so busy focusing on how frustrated you were that you hadn’t even noticed who you had approached: Jack Maynard, Mikey Pearce, and Oli White.

You kept your composure completely. Should you ask for a picture? You didn’t want to seem like an obsessive fan, but this was a moment to document. “I actually live near Vauxhall,” Oli said. “We were just headed back to my flat. You can walk with us on the way if you’d like.”

“That’d be great,” you said honestly, breathing a sigh of relief. Not only were you about to finally find your way home, but you were about to spend the time it took to get there with three of your favorite boys on the Internet. And you didn’t want to overthink things, but you felt like Jack was staring at you a little longer than the others.

As you walked with the boys in the direction of the station, you chatted casually. You explained to them that you had just moved to the area and had no idea where anything was. They were very kind, assuring you that it took them all a while to get used to the city too upon their first arrivals. Things were going great and you told to yourself that you could ask them for a picture once you parted ways near the station.

As it turned out, you never parted ways. Once you began to recognize the area around you more, you realized you lived in the same complex as Oli. This meant that you ended up seeing a lot more of him and the other boys. You never needed to ask for a picture because you went from a random fan on the streets to a next door neighbor and friend.

Whenever you looked back on that day, you couldn’t help but laugh. You had updated your Tumblr followers, telling them of the bizarre encounter and how drastically you felt your life was about to change.

And change it did. Once you and Jack became official and the buttercream boys were more than just faces on the Internet, you abandoned your account and swapped fluffy imagines for the real deal. It had been so long since you touched your Tumblr that you grew to forget it existed at all.

One day you were laying next to Jack in bed. He was scrolling through something on his phone while you were engrossed in a random episode of Game of Thrones playing on the TV. Jack had been quiet for a while now but you hardly paid any attention. He told you he was working on something for a video, so you thought it best to leave him alone. So when he spoke your name, it startled you a bit. “What’s up?” you asked, turning the volume of the TV down.

“What’s (Y/B/N)?”

Your eyes grew wide as Jack’s lips turned up in a smirk. “What?” was all you managed to get out.

(Y/B/N),” he repeated, clearly trying not to laugh. “I was just scrolling through Tumblr, specifically the Jack Maynard tag for Monday’s video. And I found this really popular account called (Y/B/N).”

“Oh god, Jack no.”

“The bio says (Y/N) - (age) - just a girl obsessed with some boys online - Jack Maynard is mine don’t fight me on this,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. “And the last post they put is quite interesting too.”

“Jack I’m begging you-”

You’ll never guess what happened today. I’m shaking as I’m typing this-”

“Jack!” you shrieked, lunging now for his phone. But he was quicker than you and leaped out of the bed.

I met Oli, Jack, and Mikey on the street today and found out I share a flat complex with Oli! I can’t fucking breathe guys oh my god. ALSO JACK IS SO HOT AND I THINK HE WAS STARING AT ME but it was probably just shock I can’t think like that and get my hopes up oh my FUCKING GOD how did this happen to me GOD BLESS LONDON.”

Jack was practically doubled over laughing. You put your hands in your face, embarrassed out of your mind. “You were never supposed to find that!” you whined. “I should’ve deleted it.”

“I had no idea you had a fan account,” he said, walking over to you and laying back down in bed.

“That’s because I worked very hard to hide it from you,” you said back with a huff. “I don’t think I touched it after I met you guys. I should’ve deleted it.”

“This is adorable.”

“It’s so cringy!”

“It’s not! It’s endearing.”

“You’re just saying that because you have to.”

“I’m not. It’s cute. You’re cute.”

“I can’t believe I wrote that,” you groaned again, your face once again hidden by the palms of your hands. Jack grabbed your hands and pulled them away, forcing you to look at him.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I am really hot, I understand why you freaked out.”

“You’re the worst,” you said, pushing him away from you. He just laughed and rolled on top of you, placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Really, I think it’s cute,” Jack said. “You’re not weird, you were just a fan. That just makes me love you more.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to have sex with me tonight.”

Jack laughed and pressed another, firmer kiss to your lips. You couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss and wrap your hands around his neck. Your fingers played with the ends of his hair as he continued to kiss you, his hands on either side of your head. You felt Jack grin against the kiss before he pulled away with a small laugh. “God bless London,” he giggled against your lips.

“Stop!” you whined, unable to stop a little laugh from coming out of your own mouth.

“Hey, for the record, I was definitely staring at you that day,” he said, laying beside you in bed. “It wasn’t just shock.”

“Good to know,” you said with another short laugh. Jack grinned and pulled you close to him, occasionally placing kisses to your neck.

“Did you write any imagines?” he asked suddenly.

“We’re not talking about this.”

“Any smut?”


“Okay okay I’ll stop,” he laughed. “But really, it’s adorable. You’re adorable. I love you.” You sighed and turned to give him a small kiss.

“I love you too.”

Truly Jack had no problem with dating a fan. You didn’t cry on your first date or faint when you first met him. He had no problem with dating someone who enjoyed his videos; even someone with a nice fan account.

Behind the Walls (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Professor!Bucky X Reader

Words: 1,775

Warnings: None yet…except talk about school!

Summary: You are currently getting your PhD in Art History, your dissertation being about The Power of Nudity in Art. Your adviser recommends you switch from being her TA to another professor because she feels her health is declining and wants you to get the best help/advice from someone new. She recommends Dr. James Barnes and believes he will be of great help to you. Things don’t turn out as you plan.

A/N: This is born out of my “admiration” for Bucky’s character!!! I am also writing this because I have this fantasy that always involves the opposite individual being a Professor! I honestly don’t know why I get turned on by the “Professor” figure. Having said that, I am a Sapiosexual meaning I am attracted to intelligence, and since I am yet to meet an intelligent person, I think I am mostly attracted to professors (which is honestly not a healthy thing…believe me). For now, this will just be fluff and angst, but will definitely include smut in later chapters. A bit of a slow build. Professor!Bucky has a metal arm in this one because I am kinky as shit.
Also, picture was made by @0-ves-0
Art is amazing!!

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My Hero- Scott x reader

Author: @redstringlovers

Characters: Scott x reader

Request: So this was from a prompt list which you can find here. The prompt was “You have…Superpowers?”

Warnings: fluff and daddy Scott ;) like literal dad lmao

Word count: 3,012 words

A/N: I loved this request and as soon as I saw it, I had a great idea and instantly started writing. Huge thanks to @susybird for proofreading :) And thanks to the anon that requested this. Hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think :)

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

“Come on Lissa and Chris, time for breakfast!” I yell at the bottom of the stairs, making sure the twins heard me. I walk back into the kitchen, seeing Y/N by the stove, cooking some breakfast. I sneak behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“How’s my beautiful wife today?” She hums before turning off the oven and putting the eggs that were in the pan onto a plate.

“Just great now that I have my handsome husband here.” She turns around and snakes her arms around my neck before connecting our lips.

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