and it's hard to walk away even if it's killing you

Prince Aladdin

i just rewatched aladdin with the roommates and it got me thinking

aladdin wishes to be made a prince, but all genie does is get him a lot of stuff and money. that’s not what a prince is. a prince is the son of the king, someone in line for the throne. someone with a lot of money is just - rich. so what i think is:

genie goes okay, that’s a big one - and i can do it! but not on my own, not if you want to do it right. not if you truly want a chance to marry your princess for real, as a prince. and aladdin is a foolish, moral, kind boy - and he agrees. he’s fallen in love with jasmine, an innocent all encompassing love, and he’ll do anything for this sweet, clever girl he only knew for a few hours. so genie takes him across the desert, far from agrabah, and plops right in the middle of a skirmish and is like okay, good luck! and aladdin is like ?????

but there’s assholes with swords attacking a young girl, and aladdin doesn’t even have to think about that, just like when he stood in front of the whip for those little kids. there are three men against him, but he’s fast and clever and has been against a dozen trained palace guards. so it’s not easy to get out of there alive, especially with the little girl to protect, but he manages it with only a thin slice on his upper arm, and he’s endured worse for less. so he picks up the little girl and says “i think we should get out of here, hmm?” and she’s in a pretty red silk getup with tiny jewels encrusted on her like stars against sunset. and she nods and throws her arms around his neck. she won’t talk, only points in the direction of home, but aladdin’s okay with that, he’s used to quiet, scared kids. so he keeps up a steady stream of stories of agrabah, which seems almost like this other desert land. but there are more men with swords and aladdin is like what the fuck is going on, but he hides the girl in a corner and fights them too. and that’s how it goes all the way home. there’s no one on the streets really, and they all scatter when the men attack, and they keep on attacking, he fights his way all the way through the city with the girl on his hip or hidden away.

and he should have known, of course, but he was tired and bruised and bleeding by the time he realized the little girl is silently guiding him to the palace and he’s like why can’t you princesses stay inside??? but he walks up and the guards get one look at the child in his arms and whisk him through and multiple people try to take the girl away but she won’t budge from him, a stubborn pout to her lips as her hands remained locked behind his neck. and he’s finally tossed into a throne room where a tall old man is sitting in agony and two young men pace in front of him, each at least a decade older than aladdin. “they’ve taken our sister!” one of the younger men hiss, “i don’t care about their power or their connections, they’ve taken esfir, and we must go get her!”

“uh,” he clears his throat, “hi?”

and all three men whirl on him and the old man stumble-runs to him. esfir finally lets go of aladdin to picked up and twirled around by her father. the two men are rahim and shapur and they look in wonder at this dirty boy of fifteen who’s returned the girl to them, and he speaks with an accent and clearly is not from here and they get the story from him - he’s traveled across the desert because those in his own country want him dead. “you know,” rahim says as the king clutches at esfir in desperate relief, “you could have held her for ransom. you almost died saving her, and we would have paid handsomely to have her returned safely.”

and aladdin gives him a flat disapproving look, appearing in this moment four times his age, and says “people are not objects or bargaining chips. especially not lost little girls.” and rahim and shapur share an impressed conspiring look and they each grab one of his arms and lead him away. “hey! what are you -”

“do be quiet little brother,” shapur says cheerfully, “we really have to get you out of your rags.”

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Angels walk among us. With crooked halos and shattered wings, they walk among us and try to remember what it felt like to be holy. Stretching out their arms and reminding themselves of what it felt like to soar.


Gods walk among us. Trapped inside too small bodies with nothing but the memories of when they were everything, and dream of the worlds and empires they helped forge. Their hands had once built galaxies, but now seemed so small.


Aliens walk among us. From far away worlds and twinkling stars, they carry on and wonder how they had gotten so far from home. One day they know they’ll traverse this galaxy once again, but until then they must make do with Earth.


Fae walk among us. Who try to remember their people, their customs, their dances, in a world that is convinced that they are children’s tales, and no more. Desperately trying to become themselves again, wondering if it was all simply a prank gone wrong, or something worse.


Forests walk among us. Those who remember their trees, their plants, the animals they kept safe under their canopy. Now they can only hope their small friends stay safe, until they can take care of them all again.


Animals walk among us. Wondering why they were stuck on two legs with none of their fur or feathers, scales or shells. Questioning why their voices suddenly are so wrong, so different from the cries they used to make. Surrounding themselves with whatever they can that reminds them of their home.


Ghosts walk among us. Clothed in flowing white and shadowy blues, wandering through areas that used to be solely theirs. They can no longer phase or float, but they make do. They have to.


Dragons walk among us. On feet without the claws they remember, and with heads held high despite the missing horns and fangs. They clamber forwards, rebuilding their hoard with every step of the way.


Dolls walk among us. Those with faded felt and chipped ceramics alike wondering why they were suddenly flesh. Looking over themselves and realizing their bodies were suddenly softer then they ever were, more sturdy then they ever were.


Galaxies walk among us. Made of star stuff and moonshine, infinitely growing forces trapped in too small bodies. Remembering what it felt like to span light years and wondering who had managed to trap supernovas into flesh and blood.


Monsters walk among us. In every shape and size; they walk; slither; crawl; and remember the days they were feared, and wonder if they really want that back. If they would want it back after finally being treated as a living creature with as much right to exist as anyone else.


Betrayers walk among us. With guilt-ridden hearts and regretful eyes. Who reassure themselves that it was the right thing to do, not quite sure if they believe themselves.


Saviors walk among us. With a shine in their eyes and smiles on their lips, reassuring all they come across that one day the sun will shine and all with be right once again.


Rebels walk among us. Causes long ago forgotten, but with fires still raging in their hearts. Challenging anything and everything. Unrest and revolutions follow them wherever they tread. Chaos and freedom, mixed together.


Survivors walk among us. Soldiers with nothing left to fear, who have instincts as their guide and luck on their side. Walking forward unafraid, because they’ve done this all before.


Immortals walk among us. Souls laden with sorrow, heartbreak slipping through their eyes. They know by now not to get close, but do so anyways because its the only thing that makes them feel anymore.


Soldiers walk among us. Hands itching for weapons they no longer have, tense with instincts they no longer need. Wondering why their body is so unmarred and unbroken. They had always done their best, but now they no longer knew if that was good enough. If it ever was good enough.


Children walk among us. Lost and afraid, they march forward, with the weights of a thousand impossibilities on their shoulders. These children are forgotten, and they would prefer to stay that way.


Cursed-folk walk among us. With cautious eyes and doubtful tones, who know that the world is against them now more than ever. Everything comes with a price, and they wonder if their price was truly worth it.


Mages walk among us. Hands of their magical tools of choice, ready to pull them out if necessary to defend or attack. Scared because this was the land their ancestors were killed in. Courageous because they continue forwards anyways.


Travelers walk among us. Those who took a wrong turn and found themselves in a world that isn’t theirs, hoping to one day find the way back. Strength rings through them, for they know they cannot- will not -stop until they reach their home.


Chosen Ones walk among us. Remembering what it felt like to be The One, The Savior, The Last Hope of their worlds- and wondering why that responsibility was ever thrust on them in the first place. Wondering why they had been abandoned back in their old world after fighting so hard for the one they had made their home.


Spirits walk among us. Spirits who see others like them in the corner of their eyes. Spirits who meet up in quiet secret places and remember, together, what it felt like to be themselves. Reassuring each other that one day they will all go Home.


Unicorns walk among us. Even with their horns no longer there, there is no doubt magic runs through them. They are blessed creatures, and they know it. Stars and sunlight glisten in their eyes, and every step plants flowers. 


Demons walk among us. Still feeling the darkness in their blood, and the calls of others like them. Hell fire and brimstone smells dance on the breeze, luring them away. Luring them back home.


Dire Wolves walk among us. Even without their pack, they are fierce. Every step a calculation, every move planned.The hunt is on, and it looks like you are the prey. Get ready to run.


Dinosaurs walk among us. Long gone though they are, the continue forward. With pasts surrounded by mystery and unknowing. They are a varied folk, from carnivores to herbivores and everything in between. Large and small alike they fight on.


Winged Ones walk among us. Backs aching from wings they don’t have- limbs they haven’t had in a long time. The sky calls to them, begging them to come home, but they cannot reply. Stuck on the ground, staring hopefully up at the sky- one day they might go home, but not yet, not today.


Glitches walk among us. Scratches on the disk of reality, blips in the world. Tilt your head, look at them from a wrong angle- they might just be lens flares, might just be tricks of the imagination. The world warps around a being that is not there, that shouldn’t be there.


Hellhounds walk among us. Hellfire sprouts from their paths, infernos blaze just under their skin. Embers burn their paws, soot stains their fur. Wildness stirs in their hearts, urges them forward. Feral creatures, born from fire and darkness.


Vampires walk among us. Fangs stained red with blood that is not theirs. Pale as untouched snow, with hearts as dark as the night they rule. Voids twist around them, cloaking them in their shadows. Look out for too sharp grins at midnight, watch your steps.


Elements walk among us. Raging winds, blazing flames, crushing earth, and surging waters rush together. Combining to make impossible possibilities, incredible worlds, exploding worlds. Elements that made up entire worlds now spinned into bones.


The Undead walk among us. Shuffling and stuttering, wondering if this makes them undead undead. Flesh now whole and bones unbroken, feeling their heartbeat course through their veins once again, feeling the air filling their lungs once again. 


Werefolk walk among us. Bodies no longer shifting as they once did, permanently stuck on their two legs, for better or for worse. From all walks of life, they shifted into anything and everything. They do what they can to remind themselves of what if had felt like to themselves again.


Starseeds walk among us. Those that have lived only a few lives and those that have lived hundreds walking together. Taking the same steps they’ve taken who knows how many times before. Memories trickle back to them, small ones and big ones alike replaying in their minds. Doing their best to remember their mission and goals.


Mermaids walk among us. Although, maybe walk would be the wrong word. Figuring out how to walk on separate limbs that used to be one. Feeling most at home when submerged in water, sometimes forgetting their new bodies need oxygen. Strong arms and new legs propelling them through water, making them relearn a skill that they’d known since birth.


Death Omens walk among us. Afraid if their mere presence curses everyone around them. Keeping to themselves, just in case. Wondering how much of their past life carries on to their new life. Afraid that their mere touch could end lives, wondering if its their fault every time catastrophe hits.


Psychopomps walk among us. Remembering their jobs, remembering their duty. Even when they hated it, they remember what that must do. Both an impartial guide and a guardian protector. It was not their job to judge, simply to provide a safe passage from here to whatever lies beyond. Smiling in the face of death, knowing that they are not here for them.


Shadows walk among us. Twisting and shifting, not solid forms but far from intangible. They are everywhere and nowhere all at once, watching on to every act, recording passively that actions of others, while also defending those in need, actively stepping out to protect. They are the night and the stars, and yet also the shifting woods and deadly blades that flash in the shade. They are, and they aren’t.


Prisoners walk among us. Remembering shackles and chains holding them back, holding them down. Forced in cages and cells, forced to repent. But now- now they are free. They are free to walk and speak and run. Every part of their soul sings. Shackles now rusted off, chains now broken- they have no intentions of ever putting them back on.


Robots walk among us. Rusty joints and electricity running through them. Mechanical men, made to work with no need for sustenance. Inorganic beings with artificial intelligence, making themselves better, making themselves evolve. Their jobs are not yet done.


Mountains walk among us. Their strength and fortitude transformed into movable flesh and feeble bones. Eons of near unending life taken away and replaced with a life of hardly a century. Where once they were feared and respected, they are now hardly ever seen.


Winter Sprites walk among us. Ice on their fingers, frost in their hair. Snow falls over their trail, painting the frozen landscape a chilling white. A shiver trails up your spine when they pass, followed by a freezing breeze- winter spirits in their element can freeze the world over, if one could be bothered to do so.


Seers walk among us. They watch, wide eyed and humbled, at the creatures who walk around them. Wings and horns and twisted bits, wandering through crowded streets. Their oddities, invisible to most, show bright and clear to the perceptive eyes of those who watch.



(want me to add one? Leave a reply and I’ll add it to the original)

Liz’s Party | Peter Parker

Summary: Spiderman shows up at Liz’s party to impress everyone, mostly the reader…

Warning: some spoilers

Pairing: Peter Parker (Spiderman) x reader

Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six

MASTERLIST


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You Bet

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Request(s): 

  • Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader … Honestly IDK what you wright. I am just a sucker for Steve The Mom™ and his bromance with Dustin. Would love for Dustin to have a sister or cousin or something and the Reader getting roped into Dart shenanigans. PLZ PLZ PLZ PLZ PLZ
  • Can you do an imagine with Steve Harrington, were the reader is really badass, and kills one of the demogorgons, and steve starts liking her?

Word Count: 3038 (suuuper long I kinda hate it)

Song: No song for this I kinda just blasted the whole soundtrack for two days straight

Summary: Kinda exactly what the requests say but if you didn’t read it it’s essentially Steve being Mom Of The Year and you being Dustin’s badass older sister that Steve falls for after seeing her in action while fighting the demodogs.

Warning(s): Violence, swearing, I think that’s it????

Author’s Note: I’ll do a smutty part two if y’all want it like I’ll probs do it anyway let’s be for real

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anonymous asked:

Hi, I don't know if you're taking prompts but I just read your scene about Andrew being there in Baltimore and it was amazing so I wanted to ask you to write something about Andreil + neck kisses, because I feel like this is a Very Important plot point that was not fully explored. Like maybe Andrew coming to terms with the fact that it's actually his favorite thing, and not knowing how to ask for it? Ugh I just finished rereading the series and I can't get enough of these stupid boys 🦊

(Thank you so muuuuch, and also I totally agree tbh)

He hates the way Neil always pauses to kiss at the hinge of his jaw on the way to his neck. It’s like a check point, the sweet press of a power button, and Neil doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it. He kisses with his whole face too, dragging down over Andrew’s bottom lip and chin and throat with his eyes closed, like he’s too in love with the experience to even look.

It’s killing Andrew. It’s stoppering the air in his lungs and giving him stomach ache with how bad he wants it. You like it. I like that you like it.

Andrew hates that he likes it, the vulnerability of that bared neck. It feels like a mistake every time he does it, but it also kind of feels like he’s taken the first shots of the night and he can’t stop, like the more he drinks the thirstier he gets. Neil is such a mistake, but he’s so so easy to make.

Kissing — like this, with the covers pushed down and Andrew on his side with his hand up Neil’s shirt — feels inevitable. He can’t stop pushing up Neil’s springy cowlicks and Neil can’t stop fumbling down to Andrew’s neck and sucking. It’s so humid and nervy-tense between them, like it’s never been, like Neil is singlehandedly dangling Andrew off of a rooftop.

Neil passes his tongue over that root of Andrew’s jaw and Andrew makes a noise so low that it sounds wounded. He just barely keeps his hands from forcing Neil closer, chasing that moment where Neil can’t help himself, circulating between mouth and face and neck before Andrew directs his attention elsewhere. He just wants to stay in that circuit with his hands open and his head tilted back.

Andrew’s fist must go too tight in Neil’s hair because he pulls back frowning, lips red.

“Sorry,” Neil says. “Carried away.” He looks troubled by this, like he’s not used to being carried away by things that aren’t arguments.

“No,” Andrew starts, and then stalls out. His hand is still in Neil’s hair. He doesn’t know how to ask for this; doesn’t even know if he wants to.

“No?” Neil repeats. “Okay.” He leans back and off of Andrew, passing one hand through his own hair and undoing Andrew’s work messing it up.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Andrew says, and the way he’s exposed is too much — shirt pushed up in the tousle to pull Neil on top, hard and marked up.

“In my experience, no means stop,” Neil says evenly.

It’s exactly what he wants to hear, he realizes suddenly. Neil finds this humiliating way of giving Andrew what he wants without looking like he’s considered it at all.

Keep reading

Harder (Smut)

MASTERLIST

A/N: This took me so long to finish. Here’s a mix between some jerking off and some passionate sex. I’d love to hear what you think. 

Word count: 3,295

Originally posted by stayinlove


After Karen and I picked up Shawn at the airport, we went straight back to their house to spend the night. Though Shawn would have rather gone home, he’d finally given in after a couple of hours pouting childishly in the car from the airport and back to Pickering. 

It wasn’t that I didn’t understand he wanted to spend his first night back in his own apartment, but his cousin were graduating tomorrow and driving all the way back and forth two days in a row was just stupid when Karen and Manny had left Shawn’s old room untouched since he moved. 

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Writing Prompts

Send me your requests HERE with your prompt choice and ship / character of choice! (Please no more than 4) and also add your own request merged into it if you want??

  1. “Give me your jacket, I’m freezing.”
  2. “These shoes were made to kick you in the ass!”
  3. “Are you okay?”                                                                                          “I don’t know how to answer that.”
  4. “It’s no big deal, its just a few scratches.”
  5. “I’m so cute, I don’t see why you aren’t dating me.”
  6. “We made a deal and you’ll keep your end, one way or another.”
  7. “You look cute when you smile, you should do it more often.”
  8. “Why are you blushing?”
  9. “I’m always here and you just ignore me.”
  10. “I’ve worked my ass off to get you in this position.”
  11. “Grab my hand!”
  12. “No, listen to me.”
  13. “I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”
  14. “There’s no shame in taking a step back.”
  15. “I’ll kill you, you sick bastard. I’ll kill you, you’re a fucking monster who deserves to die.”
  16. “Is that… a dog?”                                                                                   “No, Its a fucking horse. Of course its a dog, dumbass.”
  17. “I walked here to you in the rain, this is how much I love you.”
  18. “You are quite the mystery, aren’t you?”
  19. “Let go of me!”                                                                                        “I’m barely touching you!!”
  20. “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”
  21. “Do you believe in love?”
  22. “Put me down!”
  23. “You’re so small, it’s adorable.”
  24. “Look, this isn’t a guilt-trip: I just genuinely want to know if you dislike me so I can stop bothering you.”
  25. “We can’t be friends anymore.”
  26. “Open your fucking eyes, it’s so obvious that I’m in love with you!”
  27. “Don’t you dare touch him/her.”
  28. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
  29. “Don’t do anything stupid, I’m gonna help you.”
  30. “They say less is more, but when have I lived by that?”
  31. “Hey, don’t touch anything. I don’t know how stable it all is.”
  32. “I hate how you’ve made me broken.”
  33. “I’m a screamer. Not sexually, just at life in general.”                                     “I can make that sexually.
  34. “This isn’t one of my more subtle plans, but considering how long it’s been since I ate or drank or slept, I think I’m doing pretty good.”
  35. “If I wanted you dead, this room would be a lot quieter.”
  36. “Do you ever shut up?”
  37. “You’re such an ass!”
    “But a fine looking one, yes?” 
  38. “You’re safe now, I’ve got you.”
  39. “Since when did you become a badass?”
  40. “I don’t know why, but I think I’m in love with you.”
  41. “Holy shit! You’re bleeding!”
  42. “I’d like to talk to you when you have your pants on, okay?”
  43. “If anyone could have saved me, it would have been you.”
  44. “Everyone has a breaking point.” 
  45. “I refuse to play along with this. No thank you, go away.”
  46. “What now?”                                                                                               “I don’t know, I didn’t think we’d live this long.”
  47. “They might not want you, but I understand you, and- well, I like who you are and I want you. Please don’t believe what they say.”
  48. “Are you done staring?”
  49. “Never let go.”
  50. “You broke your promise, you can’t come back from that.”
  51. “Hey, are you awake?”
  52. “I love how we all use affectionate pet names and flirt with one another. It’s nice, having such a close knit group of friends, you know?”        “Okay but have you considered: fuckpile.”
  53. “Stay here, I’m gonna go get help.”
  54. “Despite what you think, I can actually express emotions just like any other person.”
  55. “I’m so sorry-”                                                                                      “Then why would you do that to me?! You betrayed me!”
  56. “It happened again.”
  57. “I don’t like you, but for some reason you make me feel fuzzy.”
  58. “Can I kiss you?”
  59. “So what, you bitter piece of fuck? I’m nasty, lewd, I swear every third fucking word, and I am a better person than you. oh, that burns doesn’t it? That a shit like me is more moral and good and pure than you can ever be?”
  60. “Me? What about you?”
  61. “Oh shit, okay. I’m gonna toss you over my shoulder and book it okay, no way I’m trying to fight these fools. Don’t bleed out onto my back, ‘kay?”
  62. “I’ve been thinking about you. More specifically, where you fit in my future.”
  63. “I didn’t ever think I’d fall for someone like you.”
  64. “Stop fighting!”
  65. “Don’t ever talk to me ever again.”
  66. “Please, just give me a break. I’ve been so busy, trying so fucking hard- I’m doing the best I can. Please, please don’t ask more of me.”
  67. “I wish I could lovingly craft the words together to describe how angry you make me.”
  68. “Looks like we both have detention together.”
  69. “It was over when you said goodbye to me.”
  70. “I hate school and everyone in it.”                                                        “Even me?”                                                                                         “You’re an exception.”
  71. “Kiss me.”
    “No thank you- I don’t want your germs near me at all.”
  72. “Oh, fuck off you piece of shit. You think I care about you? That I give a damn about your feelings? Fuck off- I’m first in line for your head.”
  73. “Have sex with me.”
  74. “Please make me feel alive.”
  75. “You’re the only thing that is keeping me on this fucked up world.”
  76. “Even on the shittest days, you’re always there to brighten them.”
  77. “I love you just the way you are.”
  78. “Your stretch marks are like tiger stripes, it makes you look fucking badass.”
  79. “Stop asking me if I’m alright. My last answer was ‘annoyed’, why would it change any time soon?”
  80. “I will not leave you. No matter how hard it gets or how rough things are, I will always be here. I will not leave you.”
  81. “You are such a fucking cliché.”
  82. “Stay close to me.”
  83. “I can’t do everything!”
  84. “You’re art.”
    “But I’m nothing like your art.”
  85. “I think I owe you an apology.”
  86. “Have you seen- oh
  87. “Did you do that for me?”
  88. “That’s a weird way to say ‘I love you’.”
  89. “Are you happy?”                                                                                  “Yes, very.”                                                                                         “Good … that’s good. That makes me happy.”
  90. “Sorry to interrupt but you need to move your hands away from him/her before we have a problem.”
  91. “When I first met you, I thought nothing of you, now you mean everything to me.”
  92. “Please, I can’t live without you.”
  93. “Surprise!”
  94. “You told me it wasn’t my fault, so why are you blaming me now?”
  95. “Shut up!”                                                                                            “Make me.”
  96. “I’ll fucking kill him/her.”
  97. “Are you jealous?”
  98. “Are you flirting with me?”
  99. “You know me better than I know myself.”
  100. “What do you do when you realise you might not be the good guy?”
gaming antics [m]

summary: taeyong has been too distracted by his games lately so you decide to snap him out of it.

pairing: gamer!taeyong & reader insert

includes: smut (fingering, penetration, facial, oral)

wc: 6k

note: Im back! :’) With a new fic about my babe, Taeyong. Haha. I hope you guys like it!


Taeyong had always been an avid gamer.

He would spend hours on end smashing his thumbs all over the game controller while spitting curses to his frustrated friends through a small headset. Those hours sometimes ran into an entire day, and maybe he skipped out on catching a few winks of sleep—to put it short, he was in love with gaming. Since your friendship began with Taeyong you had known how much of a hardcore gamer he was—gaming was how the two of you bonded, so his love for the hobby never really bothered you to begin with.

Not until you started to date him a couple of months ago. He attempted to change his habits and shape himself into a decent boyfriend who could go on multiple dates with you whether they are small breakfast meetups or quick coffee runs. Those lasted for a good while, but he reverted to his original self soon afterwards, almost like the lively dates with you are not as fun as the silly shooter games he spends his life on. He reverted back to the game invested Taeyong—the one that spends more time staring at a flashing screen, furiously pressing on the loose buttons of his controler, than looking at his girlfriend.

You always attempted to talk to him while he took those short breaks. Usually he spent a good five to ten minutes getting water or catching a breath of fresh air outside, but he typically shrugged you off. This time you were going to take a different approach—a very distracting approach.

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Every team 7 ship VS NaruHina

To the clique that argued with me in the saltiest of ways, I dedicate to you my first ever anti nh post. I hope you think twice about telling people to kill themselves over your self insert and stop being a pimple on society’s ass.

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anonymous asked:

What if Deku actually had the quirk to steal other quirks? (Villain Deku headcanon)

Purely villain deku? I think that’d be an interesting thing to see, is it literally if he wants to steal someones quirk he can, like permanently and for as long as he uses the other is basically quirkless until Deku stops? We need a bit of realistic (whatever realist means in Bnha) ness here. I think Deku would be outcasted like in canon except this time he would be bullied way more, Kacchan wouldn’t touch deku but he would definitely hurt him with his explosion quirk more.

Im putting it as Deku making physical contact and wanting the quirk not just the quirk activating on its own. So when hes young and amazed by Kacchans quirk Kacchan pushes him or something and his hands start making little explosion, when Kacchan sees this he gets angry and tries to use his but finds it doesnt work. After They freak out and such Kacchan gets his quirk back but he’s still creeped out that someone was able to take something from him that made him well himself.

I think Deku would try really hard to be a hero but everyone would tell him he does nothing but bad (similar to how people feel scared being near Shinsou cause of his quirk) eventually unlike Shinsou though he starts believing it. HC that in this his father leaves him because of his quirk, a child that can steal your quirk no thanks. His mom tries to be supportive but flinches whenever he tries make contact or hug her. I think he would still take notes on heroes but eventually find it much easier to steal quirks and use it to his advantage.

Lets say he gets into Yuuei somehow (steals and uses other peoples quirks, those people failed, Deku felt no sympathy) but hes not put in class A-1 heroics but in the general department. (Hero Teachers were wary of teaching someone with a stealing quirk ability to use it for something) so of course Deku is pissed, he wanted to be a hero but even the pros thought he was a freak. Kacchan avoids him when they walk back home, so he doesnt notice when Deku is grabbed and dragged into a dark alley. There he mets, you guessed it Black Mist (we all know Shigaraki would freak him out and that would get the VA nowhere so BM went instead)

Surprsingly it didnt take much persuasion, talking about how everyone is against you and your family spilt because of you can really change a persons path. Deku would still be in Yuuei just not as a hero obsessed student, hed be a spy. Hed take notes of everything that happens that he can find in Yuuei and report it to the VA. He makes friends with Shinsou of course and Neito weirdly (apparently copy cat quirky and hating class A-1 kids gotta stick together)

Since only Kacchan and Eraserhead (since he refused to have Deku in his class) know his face and such he is unable to help out much during the Breach with 13. He’s to take notes on each students quirks and report back. It doesn’t work out well since he gets caught in the fighting (stupid lackeys not knowing he’s helping them, he’s also wearing a Yuuei training outfit soooo) he’s dropped off where Todoroki and Hagakure are, he’s surrounded but saved by Todoroki who didn’t know there was a another student here but cmon he’s not going to let the kid get killed. Its weird since for once someone saved him without hesitation (during the sludge incident All Might was hesitant to help Deku after seeing his quirk in action to get the sludge monster off) Deku is taken by Todorokis ice quirk and immediately recognizes him as Endeavors son, however instead of being amazed hes a little bitter on the top 2 hero, which Todoroki is taken back but slightly pleased and very curious as to why. He noticed Hagakure (just cause her face is invisible doesnt mean her training clothes are), When All Might is fighting the Noumu, Deku slips away without anyone really noticing (except Todoroki but he’s preoccupied)

After the whole thing, where Deku was found to be excused from class (thank you Shinsou’s quirk, the boy never noticed his quirk was stolen) to be there and scolded. He did however gain an in with the Class A-1 kids, thanks to Todoroki being a bit worried and talking to him which caused a few other students to talk to him Hagakure clung to him since he talked to her during the incident a bit. Thats all i got for now Sorry this is long!!!! I got really into it

Just a movie, babe (S.M. smut)

A/N: Okay i actually got myself aroused while writing oh my gawd! its smutty as fuck. ENJOY!


Shawn’s P.O.V.

I unlock the door and open it, and before I can even get a foot in the door I hear Y/n’s voice yelling.

“Shawn! oh thank god” not a second later i see her running towards the door…towards me terror on her face. I drop my jacket and keys so she can run into my arms. “WHAT! Whats the matter babe!?” I ask, panic in my voice. She wraps her arms around my neck and hold her tighter than i’ve ever held anything in my life. 

“I just watched that movie with that psycho hockey player!” she cried out….her face is still hidden my neck but I let go of her waist. My facial expression instantly changes from anxious to blank. 

“Friday the 13th” I correct her. 

“yeaaah. oh my god i’m so glad you’re home Shawnie i was so scared here alone” she whimpers. “get off of me” I chuckle, backing away from her and picking up the items I dropped a second ago. 

“what? nooo you’re suppose to protect me!” she gasped. “From…Netflix? its just a movie babe” I shake my head and make my way the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. “for a second there i thought you were a good boyfriend” she pouts while locking the door and walking into the kitchen after me. I look down at her and she rolls her eyes, taking the water bottle from my hands and drinking a sip. “For a second there i thought you were actually in danger. And would a bad boyfriend let you steal their water?” I smirk before taking the bottle back. I take a sip but almost spill some on myself when pokes me in the side.

“jerk! id like to see you sit through a scary movie without feeling the least bit paranoid” she challenged.

“Let’s watch one tonight then”

“Hell no! i’m already freake-”

“I’m here now so I wont let a hockey player or anyone else get my girl” I know she loves it when I call her that. I see her fighting back the smile it always causes. “okay fine but i swear to god if you try to scare me later on i’m going to strangle you” she squints her eyes to try and intimidate me but all it does is make it even harder for me to take her serious. She so short and doe eyed, its really hard for me to be scared of her. 

45 minutes later

“Shawn you’re supposed to be watching this” she giggled pushing my hand away from her thigh. “Id rather be doing this though” I smirk, moving my hand back to her leg and leaving a wet kiss on her collarbone. She sighs with a smile and crosses her arms. “i shouldn’t let you even sit on the same couch as me considering you told me to get off of you earlier” she teased

“haha y/n” I started “but remember what happened before that?”

“You were holding me?” she guessed, looking over at me.

“Yeah. I thought something was wrong and that-….I don’t know” I ran a hand through my hair, reliving that moment when my heart felt like it was going to explode from how fast it was beating.

What would you have done if there was a real killer in here?” she questioned. 

“I usually say violence isn’t the answer but I guess i’d have to kill him” I laugh. I see her eyes turn a bit darker and she took a deep breath. “….did that turn you on or something?” I joke. She doesn’t verbally answer but she guides my hand back to her thigh, and then further up to one of my favorite places on her body. I start rubbing her thought her pajama shorts and judging by how soft she feels right now, i’m one hundred percent positive she isn’t wearing panties. 

She bites her lip and whimpers while pressing my hand harder into her. With her other hand she pulls her shorts to the side and waits for me to do the rest. I rub for a few more seconds to make sure she’s absolutely dripping for me.

I finally have her where I want her and by now she’s almost at her peak. I take two of my fingers and wet them in my mouth before sliding them inside her. Her mouth is hanging open, a look of disbelief on her face. “sh- shawaann” she gasped. I shake my head “I know I know, that was really dirty” I chuckle, still pumping in and out of her.

 “mmm baby you..you’ve never done that…that was h-hot” she struggled through her moans. “fuck” I grunt before pulling away from her and undoing my belt and zipper quicker than I ever have before. Without me having to tell her, she swung a leg over me and pulled her shorts to the side once again. She pulls my hard-on out of my boxers and runs her thumb over the head of it. 

“aahh baby..fuck ride me” I groan

She sinks down on me, the material of her shorts are out of the way but still add some friction every time she comes back down. Her hands find my hair and I can feel my climax building with every stroke. My hands grip her ass and i help move her up and down. “nnh shawnie right there..” she whimpers. I guide her face to my neck and she begins nibbling at my jaw line. She picks up the pace for a second before pulling me out almost all the way. She’s teasing me

“ don’t you fucking stop y/n” I growl in her ear. She starts to grind again but this time, she starts to lose her rhythm. She’s close, so am I.

“i’m almost there baby oooh fuck…yes” she nods at me and i’m assuming she feels the same. Just when I feel her clench around me, I lose it. I throw my head back and squeeze her ass just enough to make her really feel it.

  I’m moaning out her name along with a list of profanities, she’s riding out her high and when I glance down I can see her biting on her finger. I could cum again just watching her. My breathing evens out and even though we’ve both finished, she’s still slowly grinding on me. She leans forward and kisses me with so much passion, it makes me smile. 

I just love her so much.

I grab her waist to stop her movements because my dick is way too sensitive right now. “another go?” she chirps. “give me like 20 minutes babe”

We laugh and she pulls herself off of me, shifting her attention to the tv to catch the last scene of that damn movie.

how to protect mercy

despite “protect your healers” being a common mantra in the ow fanbase i feel like sometimes people arent exactly sure how to do it? so anyways coming from a mercy main here are my tips

 1. try playing mercy for yourself at least once, just to get a feel for what its like. if you find a match where people are targeting you to keep you from using your rez you’ll understand 

 2. keeping an eye on the rest of your teammates is a pretty good idea in a team game, but especially keep an eye on mercy because her only movement ability relies on having a nearby teammate to escape to. dont let mercy get cut off from the rest of the team and she’ll love you forever

 3. watch out for tracer, genji and roadhog especially. theyre especially hard for mercy to escape / skirmish with and tend to target her 

 4. if mercy is tethered to you, you can see her health bar. you dont need to babysit her, but if youre walking along/shooting at some far away enemies who arent immediately a danger to you and you see her health going down, turn around and kill the person attacking her 

 5. if she says “i need healing!!” a bunch and she’s the only healer its probably because she’s being spawn camped / attacked / is unable to get back to the rest of the team anyways these are really basic but the point is no one is asking u to babysit your mercy, but because she has such a powerful healing stream, she only has 1 ability in her toolkit (as opposed to other heroes with 2-3) and it isn’t an attack or even a method of self defence, it’s 100% to escape. 

so dont be a dick ?? if you have a mic/team chat, ur mercy will appreciate it if you just say “hey come to me if youre being attacked and ill protect you” and theyll love you forever. its a team game thats supposed to be fun for everyone so just do your best, be considerate & love ur healers 

sincerely ur friendly neighbourhood mercy main

advice for the signs
  • aries: you're full of ideas and they're always amazing! you are so much smarter than you give yourself credit for, even though you try to appear like you're a bit of a daredevil, you don't always like to come too far out of your cozy little comfort zone. but I promise, if you come out a bit more you can experience so many exciting things, and your abilities will make you shine like a star in the night sky.
  • taurus: not only are you are a badass, you're also super cool. if there are any haters its only because they want to be like you - really though. you just have an aura about you that pulls people in and once they get to know you, they don't ever want to get away. people want to overindulge in you, and if that wears you out then take a break and don't feel bad about it, your friends know you'll come back at the end of the day.
  • gemini: you're not a two-faced backstabbing bitch, you are a beautiful person who struggles with having to listen to an angel and a devil on your shoulders all day, which I can only imagine is super tough but you've done an incredible job to even come all this way and you should be so proud of yourself, I know I am. and lets take a moment to appreciate how you can walk into a room and suddenly be everyone's best friend with your natural charm and easy-going nature. you could take a bullet in the chest and your smile won't even falter. you're so determined to get what you want and you're so passionate and just everything you do is admirable. keep going, you rock this world.
  • cancer: if we're being real here, you don't actually cry *that* much. this is what it is - you have so many emotions swirling inside of you and they are like a beautiful storm of bright lights. and you should continue to let that out and share that beauty with everyone! but even with all that, you can be pretty hardcore and you are so strong, inside that whirlpool is a fire than burns bright, you should show people your intense passions as well as your caring side.
  • leo: you are amazing, and everyone around you knows it. if you're being too hard on yourself, lighten up a little because so far you've done everything right. everything happens for a reason, and if you feel guilty or sad about something just remember that your experiences have shaped who you are today - a beautiful, wonderful, magical creature with sparkling eyes, a loving soul and fabulous hair.
  • virgo: you work so hard to be on top of the game and I know how stressful that can be, but trust me when I'm saying that if you're doing the best you can, please don't push yourself any further. I'm sure you know what it feels like to get 3 hours sleep only to just scrape everything in on time, but you're doing just fine and please remember to reach out to your friends and loved ones and talk about how youre feeling. honestly, letting out any negativity makes you feel so, so much better, and you deserve the best.
  • libra: it's not that you're indecisive, you just like to weigh out all the pros and cons of a situation before you go into something - which is such a good idea, and I admire you for that. I bet you wish you had a crystal ball and could see the future to know how your decisions will turn out, huh? but the reality is that you should stop worrying about about the future and live in the moment. if you're not focusing on the present, you won't get to where you want to be in the future, and we definitely don't want to see you somewhere where your talents aren't being showcased.
  • scorpio: your personality is just so magnetic and you're so hypnotic, so many people absolutely adore you and would do anything for you - but sometimes they might not be 100% certain that the feelings are mutual. now, I know you love your friends and family so, so much with a fiercely strong love, but would it kill you to tell people that you love them and how you're feeling sometimes? everyone is here to help you and guide you on your journey to reaching the stars, but you can't build your rocket ship without the help of others.
  • sagittarius: you are incredible and so smart, it actually makes people stop in their tracks when you open your mouth and spout some beautiful, philosophical words of wisdom. or even just opening your mouth to say anything. everything about you is great but I'm not sure you appreciate yourself as much as you should. all the friends you have who love you should be an indication of how great you are. if you don't learn to love yourself, you might not be able to see through and out of your own little bubble and actually notice how much people care about you. because they care so, so much. don't you ever doubt that.
  • capricorn: your motto is work hard and don't take shortcuts, which is amazing and everyone admires you for that. it takes a lot of hard work and dedication to be you, and even if nobody mentions it, everyone is impressed. you're gonna go far, kid. but know that even if you're stuck in a rut right now you just need to jump a little higher and climb out. if you're stressed, talk to someone you trust and just open up and tell them what youre feeling. help them help you, and everything will be okay.
  • aquarius: we're not emotionless, we have a lot of feelings and we just choose not to express them because we're scared of people being overwhelmed by us, and we like to trust someone 100% before we open up. and there is nothing wrong with that. you're so good at listening to people's problems/how they feel and your advice is 10/10, but if you don't take time to talk to people about how you're feeling, you bottle everything up and one day it'll get so full that the lid will burst - and I know you're afraid of letting out all your feelings in one go, I definitely am. the only way around that is to let it out, bit by bit, slowly and over the years, to maintain your composure and sanity. and nobody will see you any different or judge you if you open up to them.
  • pisces: you're passionate, your creativity is out of this world, you're so good at helping people and you don't have a selfish bone in your body. you're always so up for helping people, and that is amazing! you're compassionate like no other, and your ideas are off-the-charts crazy cool. and you're not weak! you are perfectly capable of putting up your barriers, you just like to trust people enough to keep them down a lot of the time. and you're definitely not weak either, you've probably lived through some heartbreaking experiences, and you're still able to walk around with your head up and your heart open. now thats real strength.
Fire and Ice // A Dylan O’Brien Smut

Prompt: He’s a die-hard Mets fan, but you just so happen to be dedicated to the Yankees + request

Warings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Fingering, Oral (both recieving), Different Kinks (masterbation kink also releasing on girl’s face), Basically the dirtiest and most descriptive smut I think I’ve ever written. 

Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Word Count: 6,200 (Sorry not sorry, I got carried away with the details)

Song: Bad Things by Camila Cabello and Machine Gun Kelly

A/N: I literally grew up loving the Yankees (still do) and I honestly don’t know how I hadn’t thought of this before. Also, get ready guys ‘cuz some cool things will be happening the next few weeks and I really hope y’all like it. 

P.s. I was originally gonna post a gif, but then I saw these two pictures and fucking lost it.

Your name: submit What is this?

 

“Oh, for the love of God!” The young woman complained before taking a long gulp of her drink as she watched her team’s pitcher fail for the fourth time tonight. “Sal, I swear, I’m gonna kill him.”

“Well, at least you’re still in the lead.” The bartender chuckled, wiping down the countertop in between the two.

“Yeah, no thanks to Bryan Mitchell.” She sighed, shaking her head in disappointment.

It wasn’t exactly one of the biggest games of the season, but to her it just about was. The Mets had a surprising comeback in 2016 and the last thing her Yankees needed was to lose to that pathetic excuse of a baseball team. With her eyes glued on the television in this small but cozy downtown bar, (Y/N) placed her glass of whiskey back on her lips and let the hard liquid tear its way down her throat.

As soon as the batter of the opposing team failed to successfully hit the ball, (Y/N) let out a much needed breath of relief. Her attention was completely dedicated to the game playing on the tv screen. Well, that is, until she heard the sound of the front door opening. She didn’t quite know why, but (Y/N) felt inclined to look at whomever was arriving at this small bar she frequented so much. And, boy, was she glad she did.

Her breath hitched in her throat the second she caught sight of the incredibly handsome guy walking inside, a backwards cap settled on his dark brown hair that she felt the sudden desire to run her fingers through. The first thing she noticed was the sexy as hell scruffy, but surprisingly tame, beard on his jaw, her imagination immediately lighting on fire with dirty thoughts. His toned arms and veins straining against his muscles as he coincidentally sat on the stool beside her and lifted his arm to get a hold of the bartender was what caught her focus next. The employee instantly strode towards the beautiful stranger and asked what he wanted to drink. He politely made his order and (Y/N) couldn’t find it in herself to take her gaze off of his plump and inviting lips.

Embarrassment like never before washed over her now blushed cheeks when he, suddenly, turned to her with a confused expression and she realized she had been caught staring. She tried her best to dart away from his stare, but his eyes locked onto hers and eager chills ran down her spine when a small smirk made its way on his pink lips. She took the opportunity to really look at his eyes and they certainly didn’t fail to make her knees weak. They weren’t just a regular hazel color, they were warm with a liquid golden-brown that also had a spark of mischief in them she felt so inclined to get to know. It was strange how they both connected so easily just through looks even though neither one of them believed in love at first sight. The two did, however, believe in infatuation at first sight.

The smirk on his face didn’t leave even when she managed to break the stare the moment she heard the crowd cheering on the tv and she, immediately, turned to discover what just happened in the baseball game. Dylan certainly noticed that his Mets had just made a homerun, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the girl in the stool next to him. She wore high-waisted jean shorts that definitely worked in favor of her, breath taking, legs and his mind already came up with different scenarios of them spread before him. Her shirt wasn’t revealing in any way, it was just a plain Star Wars tee, and yet he still felt attracted to it. Maybe it’s the fact that he already knew they had a common love for this geeky movie series without even needed to exchange in small talk. But, the way her natural hair perfectly fell on her shoulders made Dylan want to push it aside and nibble down on her inviting neck.

“Are you serious?!” The gorgeous girl shouted, angrily pointing towards the screen even though she knew the umpire couldn’t actually hear her. “That was clearly foul play!”

Her words sparked interest in him and, reluctantly doing so at first, Dylan eventually turned his head towards the sports game. A smile lit up on his face as he watched his team celebrate their newest point only to, suddenly, remember the girl he had his eye on was complaining about this very achievement.

“Foul play?” Dylan questioned and (Y/N) immediately turned around towards the source of the charming voice. “Wait, are you a Yankees’ fan?”

“A proud one to be exact.” She smiled happily and if it weren’t for his shock with this new discovery, he certainly would’ve swooned at how beautiful she was.

“Perfect.” He sighed, only now realizing the bartender had left his drink in front of him when he was too busy gawking at her just moments ago.

“What?” She asked, genuinely confused at his odd reaction and watched him take a sip from his bottle of beer. Then, the realization hit her like a truck and she shook her head with disappointment. “Oh, no. You’re a Mets fan, aren’t you?”

Dylan didn’t even say anything. He just put his bottle back down on the surface and reached behind his head to turn his baseball cap forwards. Immediately revealing The New York Mets logo stamped on the hat and (Y/N) held back her laughter at the unexpected situation they found themselves in.

“A proud one to be exact.” Dylan repeated her words and, this time, (Y/N) actually let a laugh fall from her lips. It was music to his ears and he desperately wanted to hear it again.

Their attention was back on the game when the sound of bickering and chaotic commotion came from the tv, both now focused on what was happening. Neither one of them knew why the two teams were now fighting, but their hearts lodged in their throats as they watched the players lunge at each other. It was hard to tell who exactly started the fight, but by the commentaries coming from the voice-overs it seemed to be the Yankees’ fault.

“Of course.” Dylan shook his head, taking another gulp of his beer. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

(Y/N) immediately turned to glare at him, rage and frustration rushing through her veins at the sound of disregard towards her favorite baseball team.

“Excuse me?” She hissed, completely offended at his remark.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does the 2000 World Series not ring any bells to you?” He retorted with a cocky smirk.

“You mean the year we completely destroyed your team’s ass?” She replied, a grin on her face as she proudly spoke. “Something we had already accomplished countless times and would continue doing ‘till, literally, this very day.”

“Roger Clemens and Mike Piazza.” Dylan simply stated, chosing to ignore her bragging and (Y/N)’s eyes widened at the familiar names.

“There’s no proof Clemens intentionally hit Piazza in the head with that fastball.” She defended and he let out a dark chuckle.

“Seriously? You’re really going to defend someone who gave a fellow baseball player a concussion just because he had terrible anger management?”

“Okay, you know what?” (Y/N) scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. “At least we have players that are actually good at pitching.”

That spiteful comment was enough to spark something in him other than desire for this girl and, needless to say, Dylan was outraged. No one can just mock his beloved Mets and think they can easily get away with it.

“Says the girl whose team lost to us, their biggest rivals, in a 15 to 6 defeat in 2008.” Dylan retaliated and didn’t expect the sudden chuckle (Y/N) let out.

“Sure, but what’s one losing game compared to the 27 different World Series said girl’s team has already won?” She shrugged and Dylan hated the fact that she was right. “Making her baseball team the one with the most wins ever.

“And sweetie,” (Y/N) continued, placing a hand on his thigh that sent lustful jolts throughout Dylan’s entire body. “You’re sad little team isn’t even close to being an actual rival of ours, not when you’ve only won a pathetic amount of 2 World Series. How about you try to insult me when you catch up with us big boys, huh?”

“Fuck, I don’t know what drives me crazier.” Dylan whimpered at her touch, his eyes boring into her dilated ones and there’s no doubt both of them clearly wanted to rip each other’s clothes off. “The fact that you keep dissing my Mets or the fact that you’re extremely sexy talking so passionately about baseball like that.”

With a sly smile on her face and confidence she didn’t actually know she had in her, the young woman extending her hand towards him.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” She greeted as he slipped his own hand into her grasp and shook them together. “Huge Yankees fan who apparently also happens to be very sexy.”

“Dylan O'Brien.” He smiled back at her, a small chuckle escaping his throat at her comment. “Long suffering Mets fan.”

“Nice to meet you, Dylan.” She laughed and he laughed along with her when her eyebrows, suddenly, furrowed. “Wait, why do I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere before?”

“I, uh-” Dylan nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I’m an actor.”

“Hey, that’s right!” She exclaimed, now putting together the puzzled pieces in her mind. “You’re that kid from that werewolf show.”

“Yeah, Teen Wolf.” He corrected and she let out a long oh of realization as she remembered all the times she flickered through her channels and passed by this show without second glance.

“So, what brings a Hollywood star like you to this unknown bar?” (Y/N) asked, a playful smirk on her lips. “Shouldn’t you be out partying with models or other celebrities?”

“Nah, I hate that stuff.” He shook his head. “I really love my job but despise the attention.”

“I see.” She smiled, not expecting to meet such a humble famous person. Living in LA, you meet a few here and there and they’re usually always very egotistical. It’s quite refreshing to get to know someone that’s the complete opposite.

“But, what about you? What do you you do?” Dylan asked, taking another gulp of his beer.

“I’m the, um, GM of the Dodgers.” (Y/N) stated nervously and it took everything in him not to spit out his drink in utter shock. The woman giggled at his astonished gaze, his eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

“Y-You’re the General Manager of the fucking Los Angeles Dodgers?!” Dylan exclaimed after he managed to successfully swallow his alcohol.

“Why so surprised?” She challenged and Dylan couldn’t stop staring at her in complete awe. “Is it because I’m a woman?”

“No!” Dylan frantically shook his head. “It’s because I was already so attracted to you and, now, fuck… I think you might just be the death of me.”

“Well, O'Brien.” She grinned and Dylan suddenly moaned when she unexpectedly gripped tightly onto his thigh. “I’m very attracted to you, too.”

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” He asked, beyond ready to do so many sinful things to her that even the devil himself would be ashamed of.

“Ah, the game’s still on.” She shook her head as she pointed towards the television. “Can’t stop supporting my Yankees just for a hook up.”

“The fact that you work for one baseball team yet your favorite is a completely different one amazes me.” Dylan chuckled, his eyes lingering over her body before landing back on her own.

“What can I say?” (Y/N) shrugged, the actor internally moaning when she bit down on her bottom lip. “I like to keep people on the edge of their seats.”

“Well, you certainly have me on mine.”

The sexual tension between the two was so strong that even the bartender could feel it seething off of them and taking over the entire room. He, honestly, thinks he could cut it with a knife from how palpable it was. (Y/N) still hadn’t removed her grip on his thigh and Dylan silently prayed to any god out there that she wouldn’t, his body craving her touch so much it made him hazy.

“How about a little bet to make things interesting?” She proposed and Dylan’s eyes perked up with intrigue.

“Go on.” He gestured, leaning in closer to her.

“If, after the game, the Yankees have won, you have to tweet out that my team is better than yours.” She stated with a grin and Dylan immediately scoffed at her proposal. “However, if the Mets win, you can take me to your place and have your way with me.”

Dylan’s cock already felt hard just at the offer alone as he watched her take a sip of her whiskey with a naughty smirk. It took all of the self control he had in him not to moan out and crash his lips against her red ones from the beautiful lipstick she was wearing.

“Deal.” He nodded and they shook hands for the second time tonight.

The two eagerly watched the game, both way too excited with what would happen right after. (Y/N) knew that, even if she does win, she definitely won’t be spending the night at her own house. They would constantly and shamelessly glance at each other, neither one caring about embarrassment. The lust and desire was so strong at this point that every stare, glance or lick of the lips was more than welcome. Not only were their bodies attracted to one another, but so were their minds. The two had more in common than they imagined and they enjoyed every second of mindless chatter and laughter. Dylan loved it when she laughed carelessly at his stupid jokes and (Y/N) felt like she was on cloud nine everytime he listened to her speak with such intrigue.

“Seventh inning stretch.” (Y/N) sighed, taking a sip from her third drink of the night as she groaned at the score. “And it’s tie.”

“Want to make things even more interesting?” Dylan smirked, narrowing his eyes in mischief and (Y/N) swooned, still not used to this man’s beauty.

“Just how interesting are we talking here?” She grinned, putting down the glass of alcohol she had in her hand.

“Let’s raise the stakes of this bet.”

“I’m listening.”

“If the Yankees win not only will I tweet they’re better than the Mets, but I’ll also record a video singing the Yankees’ theme to go along with it.” Dylan quirked his eyebrows and (Y/N) carefully listened to every word that came out of his mouth. “However, if my team wins, you have to come back to my place tonight and go on a date with me.”

(Y/N) eyes widened at the request and she, suddenly, felt her heart beat a little faster. With a happy smile now spreading across her face, she took her glass back in her small hand.

“Alright, O'Brien.” She nodded, clinking her drink with his. The sound echoing in their little bubble as they stared each other down. “I’m down with that, but you better start warming up your voice because there’s no way the Mets are going to win.”

It was as if the words she said immediately cursed the entire game the moment they fell from her red lips. The Mets were unexpectedly scoring homerun after homerun and (Y/N) would cringe everytime they did. Dylan, on the other hand, had a permanent smirk on his face the whole game. He would watch in awe whenever (Y/N) would angrily scream at the television screen and he couldn’t wait till she screaming under him. It didn’t take long for the game to end and (Y/N) question her entire existence. It’s not that she didn’t want the things that came with Dylan winning, oh she definitely wanted them, it’s the fact that her incredibly skillful and talented Yankees lost to the fucking Mets.

“Well, well, well.” Dylan grinned, standing up from his stool as (Y/N) groaned at his taunting. “Looks like my sad little team caught up with the big boys.”

The beautiful woman glared at his mockery towards the exact words she used just a few hours ago. They were meant to work in her favor not Dylan’s. She stood up from her own stool and took a step towards him, their faces now inches from each other.

“It’s only the beginning of the season.” She defended and Dylan smiled at her proximity, the smell of alcohol on her breath making him drunk on her. “The Mets won’t survive the entire year and you fucking know it.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Dylan retorted and she couldn’t keep her stare away from his lips as he tugged the bottom one in between his teeth, (Y/N) instinctively doing the same. Dylan’s eyes looked down at hers and it was as if their little feud immediately disappeared and now all they could focus on was what was going to happen next.

“Okay, okay.” The bartender broke their stares, blushes painting both of their cheeks. “(Y/N) take your boy toy and get out of here already before you two start having sex on my countertop.”

“Sorry, Sal.” She cleared her throat and Dylan nervously scratched the back of his neck. “We were just leaving.”

The two shared smirks, lust taking over both of their pupils before they ran out of the door. Sal laughing at them as he closed his bar down.

“Kids.” He shook his head with a smile plastered on his face.



The ride to Dylan’s house was surprisingly pleasant. They found more things they shared in common like their love for goofy comedies and their incredibly similar taste in music. Dylan put his phone in the radio of his car and they spent the rest of the ride singing loudly to the songs they both knew by heart. Laughter was the second main theme of the night, right after desire.

“Do you want something to drink?” Dylan asked the second he unlocked the door to his one bedroom apartment and they both walked inside.

“No,” (Y/N) chuckled as she watched him throw his house keys on a small table and turn around to face her. “I’m pretty sure I had enough at the bar.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He laughed, nodding. “What about something to eat?”

“Not hungry.” She shrugged. “But you can eat if you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m hungry.” Dylan licked his lips, walking towards her in a predatory fashion and (Y/N)’s swallowed nervously at how sexy he looked. “Just not for food.”

Her breath hitched in her throat at his comment, jolts of lust rushing through her body and landing in her core. Dylan didn’t even wait for a possible response before crashing his mouth on hers and kissing her with such force he had to hold her lower back tightly so she wouldn’t fall. Both of them have been anticipating that moment the entire night and it was so much better than either could’ve expected. Their lips meshed together in sync with the perfect combination of hard and passionate. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck to drop his baseball cap off his head and finally be able to run her fingers through his dark hair. The second Dylan bit down on her bottom lip, she tugged at the roots provoking a moan to escape from his mouth. The sound sent shivers down her spine and she knew that she desperately wanted to do more than just kiss.

(Y/N) broke the kiss to take a breath, but Dylan didn’t dare stop. He pushed her waist closer into him and she moaned when she felt his growing bulge against her body. Dylan left lingering kisses on her neck which spread goosebumps all over her skin. (Y/N) tried to reach down his back and pull the blue t-shirt off of him but Dylan just grinned against her neck.

“I’m in charge here, remember?” Dylan stated, his hot breath fanning across causing (Y/N) to shiver in response. “And I want to take things slow.”

“Fuck.” She whimpered when he nibbled on her pulse point and began sucking, clearly wanting to leave a hickey there.

Dylan took his time leaving kisses and hickeys wherever he damn pleased and it drove (Y/N) crazy. His provocative touches and the way his lips moved against her skin made her knees weak, wetness already pooling in her panties just from the teasing alone.

“Do something.” She moaned.

“Are you gonna beg for it?” He snickered and (Y/N) moaned again just at his dirty talk.

But, (Y/N) does not beg. She never had to beg to a man before and she won’t start now. Then again, she’s never met anyone like Dylan before. He had her wrapped around his finger just from one night alone.

“I don’t beg.” She shook her head and Dylan slipped his hands down to her ass, squeezing roughly.

“You might as well start learning how to.” Dylan’s face returned to hers, their lips slightly touching. “Because I love it when a woman begs.”

“And I love it when a guy actually fucking touches me.” She retorted and the smile on Dylan’s face didn’t go unnoticed.

He let go of her completely and she whimpered at the loss of contact, wanting desperately to feel his body back on hers. They took this moment to stare at each other and both loved the sight. The two had swollen lips from kissing so hard and smudged red lipstick all over their lips, chins and cheeks. Dylan placed his hand on the hem of her Star Wars shirt and pulled it off her, (Y/N) slightly shivering at the new lack of warmth. He kissed her gently, mostly to tease, as he unbottoned her high-waisted shorts and let them fall on the floor. As she stepped out of the jeans, Dylan licked his plump lips in appreciation at her gorgeous body. She was wearing a matching pair of simple a bra and panties, but the black heels she had on made her look beyond sexy to him. Dylan’s cock twitched against his jeans, desperately wanting to be inside of this breath-taking woman in front of him.

“Take off your bra.” He commanded and usually (Y/N) wouldn’t like being the submissive one during sex but this dominant side of him was turning her on more than she expected.

Slowly reaching behind her back, she unclasped the bra and brought the straps down until she was finally bare. Dylan’s eyes immediately stared at her breasts, the rosy pink nipples perked and ready to be played with. Which was exactly what he decided to. He took two quick steps towards her before returning his hands on her waist, (Y/N)’s back arching the second Dylan’s lips attached to one of her nipples. His hand carefully massaging the other breast he currently wasn’t working his tongue against. She couldn’t contain her moans at finally being able to feel something, but her core still ached in anticipation. When Dylan bit down on her nipple and pulled at it with his teeth, (Y/N) had to press her thighs together to be able to relieve some of the pressure.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Dylan tsked, shaking his head before removing his mouth. He pressed the hand that was on her breast on her thigh and pushed her legs apart. “I call all of the shots.”

“Ple-” She was just about to beg but realized what she was going to do and stopped herself immediately.

“What was that?” He smirked, gripping onto her skin and (Y/N) whimpered at the pressure that was in one place but should’ve been in another. “Were you about to beg?”

“Never.” She panted, his lips back on her nipple.

“Oh, come on Yankees Princess.” He snickered and she not only moaned at the new pet name but the feeling of him sliding his fingers closer to the place she needed him most. “All you have to do is ask.”

She chose to remain silent, not at all trusting her own voice and mind. (Y/N) was already putty in his hands and she didn’t want to give him anymore satisfaction. That is, until he completely broke away from her and took a step back. She stared at him with wide eyes and Dylan grinned sexily before removing his t-shirt. She felt cold and odd without his touch as he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of his pants. Their eyes full of lust and desire never left each other even when he unbottoned his khakis and brought them down to the floor. Dylan kicked them away, but didn’t approach her again like (Y/N) expected. Instead, he folded his arms across his toned chest and cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m not touching you until you beg for it.” He challenged and her jaw dropped in awe.

Her eyes broke their gaze to look over his body and she swallowed nervously as she took the sight in, frustrated with herself because she now felt inclined to actually beg. Thanks to his crossed arms, Dylan’s muscles were pressing against his skin and it made her head spin. (Y/N) bit down on her lip when she looked at the trail of dark and scruffy hair above his boxers which held the massive erection bulging against the fabric, precum seeping through the cotton. Her core throbbed like never before thanks to the handsome man in front of her.

“Fine, fuck it.” She groaned and Dylan’s ears perked at her words. “Dylan, please touch me. I need you.”

It wasn’t exactly as desperate​ as he initially wanted, but it was enough for the desire pulsing in his own veins. He, too, wanted to touch her just as much as she did. And in a matter of seconds, Dylan rushed to her and instantly ripped apart her panties. Before she could even complain, his hands moved down to her ass and lifted her up. He kissed her passionately, tongue and all, as he brought her to his bedroom. Placing her down on his empty desk, Dylan spread her legs and fit himself in between them.

He trailed wet kisses down her body and (Y/N) buzzed with excitement. Once he reached her stomach, Dylan kneeled down in front of her and gripped his fingers against her heated thighs. He licked his way towards he left thigh and trailed his tongue close to her core. Just as he was about to touch her there, Dylan immediately switched course and began licking her right thigh.

“I’m gonna kill you.” She hissed through her clenched teeth and Dylan chuckled against her skin.

“Patience, Yankees Princess.” He teased as he nibbled. “Good things come to those who wait.”

She grunted, but accepted none-the-less. Although it’s not like she actually had a choice, the Mets did win after all. (Y/N) ran her fingers through his hair, slightly pulling the strands and Dylan would hum in appreciation. The vibrations shooting through her body and increasing the pain in her core.

When Dylan felt like she’d been teased enough, he let his tongue trace against the place they both desired the most. (Y/N) immediately moaned, not at all caring how loud she was being. His tongue spread apart her soaking wet folds and the young woman’s hips bucked when he momentarily trailed against her swollen clitoris. Dylan’s hand grasped tighter onto her legs as he gently slid his tongue into her, the ache in (Y/N)’s core now being replaced with pleasure and satisfaction.

She whimpered when he pulled his tongue away after working inside of her a few minutes but almost screamed out the second his lips attached to her clit and sucked furiously. One of his hands came into contact and slowly slipped a finger inside of her, her hips bucking instantly at the delicious pumping.

“Fuck.” She moaned and Dylan’s hard cock felt uncomfortable in his boxers as he watched her become a panting mess.

The feeling of his finger inside of her heat and pressing against her soft walls made his head spin, his dick begging to replace his hand’s place. But, Dylan was determined to make her cum with just his hands and mouth first. When he felt she was ready for a second one, he put another finger in and pumped at a faster pace. One of (Y/N)’s hands was buried in his hair and the other gripped tightly on the edge of his desk, her knuckles going white at the pressure.

With the mixture of his fingers curling against her walls and his tongue drawing figure eights on her clitoris as his lips sucked, it was more than enough to quickly build up an orgasm inside of the woman moaning uncontrollably. It didn’t take long to build and, the second Dylan unexpectedly bit down on her clit, her orgasm spilled over her entire body. Dylan didn’t dare stop what he was doing when her legs shook intensely along with her back arching up against the wall. He didn’t even stop when they did. The sounds that fell from her swollen lips and the way she looked as she came made Dylan greedy and he desperately wanted it to happen again. (Y/N) was still sensitive from her first orgasm and in a matter of minutes, she was cumming for the second time tonight. The sensitivity of her core making it easy to reach the edge of her pleasure again.

Even though Dylan removed his head from her inner thighs and attached his lips back onto hers in a forceful kiss, (Y/N) could still feel the burning of his scruff scratching against her tingling skin and she truly hopes the sensation never goes away.

There was more precum spread across his boxers that earlier and Dylan was beyond ready to get rid of the excruciating pain his cock felt from the lack of attention. He made his way back in between her legs after pulling his underwear off and kicking them somewhere far from his body. Dylan brought his hand to his member and pumped a few times in preparation. (Y/N) immediately moaned at the sight of him touching himself and Dylan certainly didn’t expect it.

“What-” He smirked, biting down on his lip at the feeling of his own thumb spreading around the precum on his tip. “Do you have a masterbation kink?”

“Maybe.” She confessed, a bright blush painting her cheeks as her pupils dilated when he increased his pace.

“Damn.” Dylan groaned, throwing his head back with shut eyes. “As much as I love this new discovery, I really want to fuck you right now.”

“Oh, please do.” She grinned, spreading her legs apart even further.

Dylan didn’t even need to think twice before placing both of his hands back on her thighs and lining himself at her entrance. His cock throbbed as he coated his tip in her slick wetness, lubricating himself. The two loudly moaned the moment he easily slid into her, the feeling of them becoming one making their bodies throb with excitement. Dylan let his forehead fall on her shoulder as he waited for to adjust to his size.

“Go ahead.” She stated when she was ready and Dylan immediately pulled back before pushing in again. He started thrusting into her slowly, moaning shamelessly at the feeling of her soft and wet walls tightly around him and (Y/N) loved the delicious feeling of Dylan stretching her as he pumped their bodies together.

(Y/N) wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him a new and deeper angle which he gladly accepted. His hands now moving their positions to thrust harder into her, his left palm flat out on the wall behind her and his right gripping harshly on the edge of his desk. She, however, decided to keep her hands on the arching muscles of his bare back. Considering how turned on they already were, it didn’t take much for the familiar knot to grow inside of the two. Dylan had to use every ounce of self control in him not to cum the second she unintentionally clenched around his shaft and, instead, he sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

Dylan pounded deeper into her, now continuously hitting her g-spot no one had ever found until this very moment, and his dream of hearing the beautiful Yankees’ fan from the bar screaming under him finally came true. Her voice echoed in the room along with the sounds of his desk mercilessly banging against the wall and wet skin slapping against wet skin.

“Fuck, I’m almost there.” Dylan panted, loving the feeling of her breasts bouncing against his bare and sweaty chest.

“Me, too.” She shouted, bringing her own hand down to her clit since Dylan was using his for stability.

It took her about 15 seconds of furiously rubbing her already overly sensitive nub before she felt the tight knot inside of her explode and spread mind blowing pleasure throughout her entire body. Dylan tried to hold his orgasm in him the best he could since he didn’t exactly want to cum inside of her without a condom. It was extremely difficult to contain himself, especially when she clenched around him again and dug her nails into his back, but Dylan somehow managed to contain himself as he shouted in frustration. Once he noticed she was back down from her high, he immediately pulled himself out of her and took a step back.

“On your knees.” He panted, his voice weak as he pointed to the ground in front of him.

Even though she was completely hazy from the ground breaking orgasm she just had, (Y/N) slowly slid off the desk and instantly fell to her knees. Dylan didn’t know wether or not she fell due to how weak her legs were or if it was actually intensional​ but the second she gripped his member and licked his tip, the thoughts immediately flew out of his head. Dylan’s mind now focused on her taking him into her warm mouth. His hands instinctively dug into her hair as she slowly bobbed his cock. In a matter of seconds, (Y/N) hollowed out her cheeks to make an even tighter environment for him and Dylan moaned shamelessly at the feeling.

(Y/N) absolutely loved that when her tongue grazed his wet member she could taste her juices on him and she decided to deepthroat him in appreciation. She took him in as far as she could, her nose buried in the patch of his dark hair and her throat gagging at the fullness. But, Dylan definitely loved it because his dick instantly twitched in response and he quickly pulled himself out of her mouth. His hot cum squirted out of his tip and he watched with hooded eyes as it painted her blushed cheeks. Normally, (Y/N) would never allow any man do such a thing to her but the way Dylan was looking at her with pure pleasure and enjoyment swimming in his dark pupils was enough to make her want it to happen again. His liquid dripped from her face and made its way down her breasts, Dylan unable to contain his groans at the sight.

“So, I’m guessing this is your kink.” She chuckled, coating one of her fingers with his release and putting it into her mouth.

“One of many.” Dylan smirked, extending his hand for her to grab with her free one.

They stared at each other with satisfaction in their eyes as he helped her stand, both of them simply knowing without the need to actually say that that was the best sex the two ever had.

“I’ll be right back.” Dylan stated, placing a lingering kiss on her lips before walking away and disappearing into his bathroom.

One of (Y/N)’s eyebrows quirked at the sudden sound of water from a sink running momentarily but, when he returned to her with a small and damp towel in his hands, everything made sense. He kindly wiped away the now sticky cum on her skin and she smiled up at him.

“Now about that date.” Dylan grinned, throwing the towel on the desk when he was done cleaning her body. “How does the premiere to my new movie with a romantic dinner afterwards sound?”

“A first date in the eyes of the public?” She questioned, challenging him. “Borderline crazy.”

“So, is that a yes?” He smirked and (Y/N) instantly laughed.

“Definitely yes.”

I’ll Fight for You- Part I- Sweet Pea x Reader

Originally posted by forsythpjones

Fandom: Riverdale

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Female!Jones!Reader, Jughead Jones x Sister!Reader

Words: 1781

Warning(s): Violence, Maybe some swearing

Description: (SERIES) Being the sister to the infamous Jughead Jones comes with its perks. One of those perks is the chance to get close to a certain serpent.

Tagged: @hanane-billy12

Keep reading

After Midnight: Part 1

A Dean x Reader / smut series

Dean Winchester is a hunter, and one of the most attractive men you’ve ever met. Your entire life changes when he and his brother Sam unexpectedly save your life, immediately taking you under their wing. When your ever growing feelings for each other are established, Dean discovers that no man has ever made you orgasm before, and makes it his mission to make you feel good in as many different ways as he possibly can.

A/N: Here is the first part of my new series. It’s going to be a long, and dirty ride. I really hope you guys like it. Please feel free to like, reblog, reply, and send me asks. I thrive off of your response and it makes me want to write even more. I appreciate and love all of you ♥ Let me know what you think!

Word Count: 4,548
(not every part will be this long)

Warnings:
- smut/nsfw.
- language.
- a smidge of violence.
- please do not read if you are under 18. i do not condone any minors reading my work. if i do catch it, i will block you.
- always wear a condom, kiddos!

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

You remembered the day like it was yesterday, even though it was now almost 365 days ago. It was the day your life changed forever, for both the good and the bad; the day that Sam and Dean Winchester stumbled into your life.

Working your normal shift at the local diner, you never expected the day would go any different than it normally did. Your life was spent living alone, in a seedy apartment downtown, scraping pennies together just to pay the rent. With no family left to call your own, you couldn’t help but let the misery take over on most days. Half the time, you never even paid attention to the day of the week, let alone the date, considering you worked seven days a week to get by.  Everything was just a whirlwind of crap and more crap, hiding your electric and water bill termination letters under the cushion of your couch, just so you didn’t have to deal with them.

The diner wasn’t a very busy place during the week, but on the weekends it was even worse. In order to be able to pay staff, you were designated to open and close the diner alone on Sundays. This meant that you played waitress, cashier, and cook all in one. Since it wasn’t terribly crowded, it wasn’t that hard, and it meant you didn’t have to split your tips.

That fateful night, a man you’d never seen before moseyed into the diner, and took a seat in the farthest right corner. His face was smudged, as if he’d been rolling in dirt, and his jet black hair was unkempt, with bits of twigs and leaves sticking out of it.  When you approached him to take his order, he smiled at you with rotting teeth; noticing up close his fingernails were just as filthy as the rest of him. The stranger ordered a steak ‘as rare as you can make it’, and winked at you before you walked away. You wanted to gag. The way his eyes started at you as you wrote his order down sent chills down your spine, but you brushed it away and kept moving.

About an hour later, two more men walked into the diner. They were completely different than the stranger in the corner, much taller and cleaner. They were dressed in plaid and blue jeans, with heavy boots on their feet. One was taller than the other, but not by much, with dark brown hair that stopped at his chin in beautiful, natural layers. He was handsome, but the other man was the one who caught your eye, making your heart leap in your chest as he walked towards you. He had the perfect features, with freckles dusting his cheeks and nose. His jaw was strong, and light brown hair stood in spikes atop his head. It was the first time that Dean Winchester gave you butterflies.

“Hi,” he said with a  sinfully charming smile. You felt the heat rise up at the back of your neck, as those stunning green eyes met yours. No man ever looked at you like this, like you existed, let alone someone this painfully attractive. “Can we sit anywhere?”

“Uh, yeah. Anywhere you like is fine. I’ll be over in a minute to take your order,” you somehow managed to say, grabbing some menus from behind the counter and handing them to him.

“No need,” he replied, still smiling. “Just two coffees for me and my brother, please.”

Before your brain could even respond, he was turned around and walking back towards the taller man, who you now knew was his brother. They took a seat in the booth two away from the stranger, and you noticed Mr. Green Eyes was staring directly at him. Quickly getting together their coffees and creamers, you brought them over their table.

“Thank you,” Long Hair said, taking the creamers out of your hands, as you set their coffees down gently on the table. Mr. Green Eyes was still staring at the dirty man in the corner.

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “Sugars are over there, and if you need a refill just yell.”

“What’s your name?” Mr. Green Eyes asked, finally moving his eyes.

You showed him your name tag.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft while his brother dumped as many sugars in his coffee as possible.

Trying to shake this man, with the impenetrable green eyes and 100 watt smile, you turned quickly and went back to cleaning up the vacant booths. Only an hour until closing time.

The dirty stranger left his money on the table and, of course, didn’t leave a tip. Mr. Green Eyes and Long Hair, the most gorgeous brothers in existence, did in fact leave a quite generous tip, and you couldn’t help but smile. It perked you up, and that was rare. For the next twenty minutes, you cleaned the diner thinking about Mr. Green Eyes in particular, and if you’d ever see him again.

Little did you know, you’d have your wish granted sooner than you realized.

Locking up the diner, you felt the hair at the back of your neck stand up, feeling someone behind you. Quickly turning around, there was no one there. However, the adjacent alley, which always terrified you to begin with, gave you the extreme creeps tonight. Tossing the keys in your purse, you began to walk to short walk home, your heart beating loudly in your chest.

“Hi, beautiful,” a groggy, hoarse voice behind you said, making you spin around so hard your neck cracked. It was the dirty stranger from the diner, and your heart fell into your stomach. You had nothing to protect yourself with.

“Get away from me,” you all but whispered, backing away from the man and preparing to run. With lightning speed he was upon you, fisting your hair in his hand and yanking you towards him.

“You smell good enough to eat, little girl,” he growled, exposing grotesque fangs with stringy drool, growing closer and closer to your face. The smell of his breath could’ve gagged a maggot. It was a rancid odor you’d never forget. His now clawed fingers played over the buttons of your white shirt, running a long scratch down your chest where your heart was beating on the inside.

“Hey!” a familiar voice yelled from behind the creature, firing a warning shot off in the arm. “Leave her alone!”

The monster didn’t let go of you, but turned his body to see who was behind him. A small window between his arm let you see who was speaking. It was the taller brother from the diner, and he was pointing a gun right at the stranger’s chest.

Hunters…” it growled, letting you go with force, dropping you to your knees on the concrete. The wind was knocked out to you. You watched from your knees as the creature was now advancing on the taller brother.

“Run!” he yelled to you, as he shot at the monster, missing his chest and hitting him in the left leg. The creature hissed and dropped to one knee, but got back up immediately to charge at Long Hair again. A punch landed on the taller brother’s face, sending him flying back. You wanted to move, wanted to run, but you didn’t want anything to happen to the man who’d saved your life. The creature was now advancing back at you. Watching Long Hair try to unjam his gun, you started to panic. Suddenly, you felt two strong hands take you under the arms and bring you to your feet with ease. You spun around to defend yourself, halting when you were met by intimidating green eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a gruff, out of breath voice. You looked behind him to see a beautiful, black 1967 Chevy Impala parked down the street that wasn’t there before. It must have been how he got here. He was also holding a gun. You tried to answer, but your mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water. “Stay here.”

In slow motion, you watched him expertly take the safety off his gun, and fire two shots in the creature’s back, bringing it to the ground. The taller brother raced forward and shot it straight in the chest, right where its heart should be. Finally, the creature was lifeless, blood pouring out of the wound onto the street.

“Sam!” Mr. Green Eyes yelled, running towards his brother. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Dean,” he replied in a huff, dusting the dirt off his jeans. “Go check on her.”

You watched as Dean briskly walked over to where you were standing, your brain in complete shock. Your body couldn’t move on its own, even if you tried.

“Hey, hey,” his voice soothingly said, taking your face in his hands and trying to make you look at him. Your entire body was shaking. “Listen, my name is Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sam. We’re hunters, and that thing we just killed was a werewolf. Are you okay?”

Blankly you stared at him, trying to process if all of this was just a dream, your mind hallucinating from stress, or a reality. Everything was happening so fast. You could see the panic in Dean’s face, as he motioned for his brother to come closer.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” Sam said, standing behind Dean, his brow furrowed in concern. Still, you couldn’t manage to form a word.

“Alright, look,” Dean said to his brother, his hands leaving your face, leaving you feeling empty. “She’s not okay. We need to take her back to the bunker. She can rest there under our watch, we can explain everything to her, and we can bring her home.”

“I…” you started, tears welling up in your eyes. It was the first word you’d even uttered since this all began. Sam and Dean stared at you, waiting for you to continue. You couldn’t let them down.  “Don’t want to go home. I hate my shitty apartment, I hate my job. Why didn’t you just let that thing kill me?”

“Okay, enough of that,” Dean said, taking you under the knees and lifting you effortlessly in his arms. “You’re coming with us, okay?”

All you could do was nod, as Dean walked you to the Impala. He placed you gently in the back seat, covering you up with a blanket from the trunk. Sam got into the passenger side, but Dean was peering in at you from the door.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Y/N. I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

He remembered your name, and your heart fluttered. You nodded, because it was all you could do. Dean smiled at you and closed the door, getting into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. He looked at you through the mirror, and smiled.

“Shut your eyes,” he said, as Sam turned around to check on you. “We’ll be home in no time.”

And that’s exactly what the bunker has been to you. Home; more of a home than your shitty apartment had ever been. After they explained what they did for a living, everything about monsters and ghosts, you were on the team. Dean never let you actually go out and hunt with them, but you were more than happy to help with research, traveling with them to motels from state to state. They were your family now, and you wouldn’t of had it any other way. Except there was one point that you had never actually brought up, or even addressed, in the entire year that you’d lived in the bunker.

You were madly, deeply, head over heels in love with Dean Winchester.


“Can you please untie my boots?” Dean asked you, sitting on the end of the motel bed. He and Sam had just gotten back from a particular gruesome hunt. “I can’t even bend over to do it myself.”

Sam collapsed on the other bed, not even bothering to take his boots off.

“That bad, huh?” you asked, carefully unlacing his boots, pulling them off and placing them neatly near the door.

“Job’s done, that’s all that matters,” Sam said. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

He shot up from the bed like lightning, making sure he got the bathroom before his brother. Dean sighed heavily.

“He knows you take too long in the shower,” you said with a giggle. “He wasn’t trying to wait.”

“Are you alright?” Dean asked you, getting up to place his large hands on your shoulders, giving them a squeeze. He was always so protective of you, so worried. Since he was touching you now, you knew it would end in flirting. Just like it always did.

“Dean, I’m fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Nothing ever happens to me in a locked motel room. You guys taught me how to defend myself in literally every situation. Stop worrying about me so much, you big softy.”

His gruff laugh filled the room, and your heart melted.

“Did you know today is one year exactly that you guys picked my helpless ass up off the side of the road?”

Dean grabbed a beer out of the mini fridge and sat down on the edge of the bed again. You noticed that he had flecks of blood on his forehead. Standing up, you procured a baby wipe from your duffle bag, and walked over to him.

“Is that so?” he asked, taking a swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving you. That was the thing about Dean; his eyes were so intimidating when they stared at you, as if they were staring directly into your soul. He looked up at you as you began to gently wipe the blood from his forehead, before throwing it into the trash. “Well then I think we should celebrate.”

“Dean, we don’t have to. I know you and Sam are tired, we can just–”

“Sam is gonna pass out as soon as those luscious locks hit the pillow, you know that,” he cut you off, standing up right in front of you. He was so close to you now, you could feel his body heat radiating into you.

“So what are you saying?” you asked sheepishly, feeling your face get hot, trying to busy yourself by stacking papers that were already stacked on the table.

“I think we should celebrate together, in your room. If that’s okay with you? We never get to spend any alone time together. Just me and you…”

You swallowed hard. It had never come to this before. Sure, there was always the flirting and the googly eyes back and forth between you, but you really never had been alone with Dean for longer than a few minutes. The chemistry between you was obviously there, but both of you didn’t want to complicate things. Even though this was something you’d never discussed, it was just silently known that hunters never had relationships. It was too complicated.

“Okay,” your heart agreed, even though your brain told you it wasn’t a good idea.

“Good,” he replied with a smile so wide, the crinkles by his eyes appeared. It was your favorite part of his face. “I’ll meet you in your room in an hour.”

Snapping your laptop shut, you gathered your things and left without saying goodbye, your heart hammering too hard in your chest to even speak.


You spent the next hour showering yourself, actually trying to do your makeup and hair. When the knock on the door came after midnight, you took a deep breath, before opening the door. It was just Dean, right? What could possibly happen? Finally, you opened it, to reveal a fresh showered, incredibly handsome man at the door. He was holding a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“I brought this,” he said, walking in the door and sitting down on the bed. “I figured we would drink to you being with us for a whole year.”

“Sounds good to me,” you replied with a smile.

Dean spun the cap off the bottle and took a deep swig, before offering it to you. You also took a large gulp, which turned into you both passing it back and forth to each other; which then turned into you both being pig drunk playing a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’.

“Okay…” Dean said, his head back against the bed as you both sat on the floor. It was too hard to get up at this point. You both had been very handsy with each other, very affectionate, which often happened when Dean was drunk. You didn’t matter in the slightest. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm?”

With a fuzzy brain and feeble hands, you reached out and took one big gulp from the bottle. Dean’s eyes grew wide.

“W-wait,” he slurred, rubbing his eyes and sitting up straighter. “What kind of men did you sleep with?”

“Shitty ones apparently,” you chuckled, looking him in the eye. You were brave under the whiskey’s influence. “I’ve actually never even had an orgasm. Well, besides from my vibrator…”

Dean choked on the whiskey that he’d just put in his mouth, a trail of it dribbling down his chin.

“Excuse me?”

Your face was getting hot now.

“Well you’re not supposed to lie when you play this game, right? I figured I could tell you in confidence…”

“No, no I mean of course you can,” he exhaled loudly. “But now I just want to show you how good it can feel. How a real man can make you feel. How I can make you feel…”

Dean had scooted closer to you now on the floor, and his hand was on your knee. Your eyes were locked onto each other, and the spark of sexual tension between you could’ve powered the room.

“Is this okay?” he asked, leaning into you and rubbing his rough hand over the top of your thigh. Good God, this was more than okay. It was what you’ve been yearning for, for over a year.

“Yes,” you breathed, his face now inches away from yours as he now hovered over you. You were leaned back on your elbows, his fists planted into the carpet now.

“Can I…”

“C-Can you what, Dean?”

Saying his name out loud, with such a wanton sound, only increased the electricity between you.

Everything…” he said with exasperation, as if it was something he’d been holding in too.

You answered him by making your lips meet, sparks flying throughout your nervous system at the contact. His hands flew up to cup your face, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours. His mouth tasted so sweet, exactly what you’d expected it to taste like; like whiskey, and sweet mint toothpaste.

As softly as his drunken self would allow, he grabbed you by the waist and laid you gently on the bed, settling over top of you again. You let your hands roam everywhere you always wanted to, starting from his shoulders to the small of his back. You could feel the muscles ripple beneath his skin, as his own hands roamed your body.

Fuck,” he groaned, pushing his denim clad erection into your thigh. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your back arched instinctively at the sound of his voice, and you were dying for him to undress you. As if he could read your thoughts, he stripped you of your clothing, tossing it to the side in a heap. Seeing you sprawled completely naked in front of him, he let out a low whistle.

“You have no idea,” he started, tracing a line from between your breast to your belly button, his hands cupping your curves. “How long I’ve been dying to see you like this…”

Reaching up, you tugged at his shirt, then at his belt, desperate to see the treasures that were underneath his own clothes. Even though you were drunk beyond belief, you were coherent enough to know that you both wanted this; needed this.

Watching him strip of his own clothes was the most sinful experience you’d ever witnessed, and one you were sure you could never get tired of. Freckles dusted his shoulders and chest; his shoulders so broad you wanted to scream.

Seeing his cock for the first time made you gasp. You knew he’d be big, considering everything else about him was nothing short of perfect, but you didn’t expect it to be that big.

“Damn,” your drunk brain said, taking it in. Dean chuckled, taking your legs and spreading them gently apart.

“I could say the same for you,” he said, licking his lips as he saw what laid between your legs. His fingers gripped your inner thighs, as he lowered himself to settle right in front of your already soaking wet pussy. “I wonder if you taste as sweet as you look…”

Without anymore words, his lips closed around your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth. You cried out, your hands immediately tugging at his hair. This only encouraged him, as he started to use his tongue, running it from the most sensitive part of your clit, down to lick up the juices you’d left behind.

“You taste even more delicious than I thought you would,” he said, before diving back in, this time inserting a thick finger inside you. You wanted to scream it felt so good, as he expertly used his tongue and fingers to inch you closer and closer to your sweet release. The noises he made as he tasted you were positively sinful, as you watched his perfect, plush lips suck at your clit.

“Dean…” you breathed, feeling the rubber band begin to snap in your stomach. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me—”

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he groaned, nipping at your inner thigh, as he crooked his finger just right to hit your g-spot. Pops of white light appeared in your vision as you came, hard and fast around his finger. The most devilish smirk played at his lips, as he reached up and popped his finger into your mouth. “You see how good you taste? I don’t know why I waited this long.”

Even though you had just came as hard as you’d ever came before, you wanted more. Reaching between you, you wrapped his hard, thick cock in his hands and pumped it, watching as his eyes slowly closed. You guided it to your entrance, as he helped to thrust himself deep inside you. The perfect sting of him stretching you made your head spin, almost causing your walls to crumble already. He filled you up so well, and the sound of him groan as your walls clasped around him was one of the sexiest sounds you’d ever heard.

For the next couple of minutes, he thrust himself in and out of you, enjoying the feeling of your tightness. Dean worked his hands over your entire body, leaning down every so often to place a small peck to your lips.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead; the muscles in his abs beginning to clench.

“It feels incredible, Dean,” you managed to say, feeling the impending wave about to crash down on you. “I want to cum for you. I need to cum for you.”

“Oh please cum, baby,” he groaned, so needy. “I need to feel it.”

It was all he had to say, before you came around him, clawing at his back, leaving red welts. He threw his head back and grabbed your hips, biting his bottom lip as he came inside you. Before he pulled out of you, he kissed you long and hard, brushing the hair off of your own sweaty forehead.

With a soft chuckle, he collapsed next to you, covering his face.

“Oh my God,” he laughed. “I have the spins so fucking bad.”

You laughed next to him, feeling your stomach muscles tighten.

“I guess it wasn’t a good idea to fuck on the first date… drunk.”

Dean laughed again, this time harder, holding his stomach before looking directly at you.

“This wasn’t just a fuck for me, Y/N. I want you to know that.”

“Is that the whiskey talking?”

“No!” he practically yelled, sitting up in the bed. “It’s definitely not. I don’t know what it means exactly, but I do care about you.”

“Well, congratulations,” you said, changing the subject to something more light-hearted. There was no way you could have this conversation drunk. “You’re the first man to ever give me an orgasm.”

He patted himself on the back, emitting a giggle from you.

“I know. And I don’t want it to be the last.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your brain making it self believe that this would only be a one time thing.

“What do you mean?”

Dean took your hand in his, kissing each finger.

“I want to make you cum as many ways as I possibly can.”

Boom, boom, boom, goes your heart…

“How many possible ways is there?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said with a grin. “There are many.”

Dean got up from the bed and grabbed one of your notebooks from the table. He brought it back to you and sat down, all the while you continued to admire his god-like naked self.

“I want you and I to write down things we’ve always wanted to try, but never have.”

“Okay…”

“Then, we each take a turn and pick a slip of paper. Whatever it says on the paper, we try. Only if it’s something either of us are into. We can always say no, of course.”

You walked over to your duffle bag and pulled out a spare toiletry bag, dumping out its contents.

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” you said, ready for whatever adventure Dean was going to throw at you. “We can put them in here.”

“I think we should keep this from Sam,” Dean said, looking you directly in the eye. “Not that I want to hide this or anything, I just don’t want it to… complicate us.”

“Okay,” you said. “There’s no reason to tell Sam if there isn’t anything going on. It can be our little secret.”

For now…

“Right,” he agreed. “Now get to writing. I have a few ideas that I’ve been fantasizing about trying with you.”

Your heart was beating so fast in your chest, as your mind raced about what may come in the near future. With shaky hands, you wrote down five things, folded them up, and put them in the bag along with Dean’s own five mystery scenarios.

“Awesome,” Dean said, kissing your forehead. “You get the first pick tomorrow night.”

Dean gathered his clothes and put them on, stopping to kiss you hard when he was done. Butterflies danced in your stomach, aching to ask him to stay, but knowing you shouldn’t.

“I should get back in case Sam wakes up,” he whispered, as if Sam could hear him through the walls. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

And with that, he was gone, closing the door silently behind him, leaving you aching and wanting for more.


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anonymous asked:

hey there! thanks for answering all our questions on this blog + how possible would it for someone to crack ribs with a solid kick? there's a character i have in mind that's escaping captivity, but they're also young, so i'm not quite sure how easily they'd be able to hurt the (adult) antagonist in such a manner, especially lacking any fighting experience to begin with?

Well, you can break someone’s ribs with a kick. That’s the entire purpose of the roundhouse, especially the version where you strike with the ball of the foot rather than the top of the foot. (And… aren’t like me when I was seven or eight, when I was new to sparring and totally stubbed my toe in another kid’s side at a tournament after my brain/body got confused between the two. I didn’t break my toe, but I could’ve.)

That story above is important, by the way. If you’ve got a character who doesn’t know how to fight then they’re not even going to get that far. If you don’t know how to kick then that’s a great way to get your leg caught by someone who knows what they’re doing. They catch the foot by the ankle, and then drag you wherever they want. That’s assuming the character can get their leg up and out without falling over. Even if they do manage that, say because they’ve watched a lot of martial arts flicks, they won’t know how to generate power and will be very slow. A, B, and C occur anyway. Your protagonist is going to end up back wherever they were being kept, this time in a much less comfortable position.

Even for an experienced martial artist, kicks require fairly constant bodily upkeep in order to be able to do them cold (much less perform them at all). That’s not a combat scenario, that’s just in general. You’ve got a great chance of pulling all the leg muscles you need to get away, including ones you didn’t realize you had and that’s if you don’t break your toes. Board breaks with the roundhouse kick are the most terrifying of them all because you’ve got to remember to curl your toes just right in order to carry your foot through the board.

Kicks are off the table.

More importantly, this is an exact rendition of the “Feel Good Violence” trope: My Instincts Performed A Wheel Kick.

The protagonist is suddenly and randomly enough good at fighting to not only fight, but win when making their first attempt at a violent altercation. They use techniques which require a fairly high level of dedication and aptitude out of “natural ability” and “instinct”.

Unless you’ve got an ironclad reason for invoking the trope (past lives/ immortality/memory loss/the matrix) it will undercut your narrative credibility in ways the story cannot recover from.

When you’ve cracked your foundation, you’re done.

“The only difference between reality and fiction is that fiction needs to be credible,” - Mark Twain

Narrative integrity is based on the rules or limitations we’ve set for ourselves, those limitations are the ironclad rules by which the narrative functions. They exist on two levels: in behavior and actions of characters within the world, and on a secondary level the setting’s behavior around them. Everything in your story must be working to uphold the fiction. When it doesn’t the audience’s “suspension of disbelief” starts to crack. You are beholden to the rules and limitations set down by your setting. Without them, you have no story.

When you’re setting out to create a character, there are four questions you should ask yourself:

1) What can the character do?

2) What can’t the character do?

3) What is the character willing to do but can’t?

4) What can the character do, but is unwilling to?

Within these four circles you have your character, their ethics/morals, and their limitations. That is the box you’ve created for yourself. It is important to own it and abide by it. When dealing with a protagonist, those limitations are not just the foundations of a character but the entire narrative.

Your character cannot fight your antagonist in a one on one and come away with any victory because you have established they don’t know how to. That is a limitation you set for yourself. That the audience knows and understands, so they will expect this character to act in accordance with it. They may want to walk up to the antagonist and kick them in the ribs so hard those ribs break, but they can’t. That desire could be a driving force behind them learning to fight later. As of now, though, their powerlessness in active violent conflict serves to reinforce the antagonist’s position. Reinforcing the antagonist’s position is for the narrative good.

They should be making choices based on the Venn diagram’s center: when what they can do meets what they are willing to do.

If what they can’t do conflicts with what they’re willing to do and they go with it anyway then the result is a failed escape attempt. A captive’s survival is based on their value. If they’re valuable enough for the antagonist to go through the trouble of capturing them in the first place, then they’re probably not going to be killed. At least, not until their value runs through. They lose and wind up back in captivity under more scrutiny, more security, and with fewer exit options. This reminds us why they were captured in the first place, and reinforces our villain’s position.

A protagonist can fail and retain their legitimacy many more times than an antagonist can. While this is a perfectly legitimate narrative outcome, I don’t think its the one you’re looking for.

This is the second issue with your question:

A narrative’s antagonist is its backbone.

Your antagonist is one of the most important pieces of your story, if not the most. They are the lingering threat, the shadow hovering over the story, and the knife at your protagonist’s throat. They are seventy percent threat, and the last thirty relies on their ability to make good on it.

One of the biggest mistakes an author can make is assuming their antagonist’s position in their narrative and the threat they provide are impervious to harm.

Unlike your protagonist, your antagonist is always in a precarious position. They must constantly re-affirm themselves and the threat they represent through their actions. That threat is all consuming and when challenged, it must either be defeated or confirmed.

If defeated, then the threat is gone.

If confirmed, then the threat level is heightened because now we imagine what they might do next.

An antagonist can re-affirm themselves after a defeat, but they’ve got to double down on their effort and create a new threat rather than relying on their old one. You as the author must work harder to make up for what you lost, and even then you’ll never have the initial fear ever again.

The first rule of the antagonist is: your capital is limited, so spend it wisely.

When you undercut an antagonist in favor of the protagonist before its necessary, you damage the antagonist’s credibility and, subsequently, their position in the story. When you lose your antagonist, you lose most of your narrative tension.

A character who doesn’t know how to do something is applying a limitation to the character. You are applying a restriction to what they can and can’t do. If you’re character doesn’t know how to fight, then fighting will be off the table. More importantly, having your character succeed at a skill set they have no experience in doesn’t make them “awesome” or “cool”, it means instead that the other characters who put time and effort into honing these skills suck.

When those characters are your antagonists… that hurts.

If you’ve got a protagonist with no hacking experience who manages to overcome a supposedly great hacker on their first or second go round with no time spent learning how to hack, then who looks bad? The second hacker. They’re the ones who are supposed to be good at hacking. If the narrative hinges on them being a major antagonist, then the author just shot their narrative in the foot.

Combat skills are the same way. They’re a skill set, not an instinct. They don’t come naturally, and take a great deal of time and effort to hone.

If your goal is to show your dangerous antagonist is a bumbling moron when an untrained teenager gets a lucky shot so miraculous they manage to lay them up for the rest of the story, then that’s a job well done.

If your goal is for the antagonist to maintain their credibility within the narrative? Don’t use them for a punching bag.

Violent confrontation is based just as much on threat of force as it is on the follow through. The threat is usually more frightening than what follows, and your protagonist is already challenging the fear by trying to escape. From a narrative perspective, if they get over their fear enough to challenge their antagonist directly then it’s game over. You spent your all capital either at the beginning or midway through the story, and you’re not getting it back.

Remember, your antagonist has to do just as much work to earn their street cred as your protagonist. Their position is a delicate balance of power management and threat of force. They rely on show over tell. They need to live up to whatever it is you’ve been saying about them. They need to be as dangerous as they’ve been puffed up to be, unless their reputation itself is the real antagonist. Never forget, your antagonist (whoever they are/whatever it is) is the backbone of your story. They are often the driving force of action, the reason why the protagonist is struggling, and the focal point. In some ways, they are more important than your protagonist because without them the protagonist’s got a whole lot of nothing.

When you undercut your antagonist, you also hurt your protagonist’s development. You cheat them of their chance for growth, and deny them their ability to show off whatever it is that they’re actually good at i.e. using their bravery, intelligence, and cleverness to sneak out.

If your protagonist beats down their Goliath at the beginning of (or even the middle) of the story then there’s no reason for them to go to the mountain master and learn to throw rocks.

-Michi

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Werewolf Prince

A request gift for @catswort . I had so much fun writing this one. Please keep sending me monster requests guys!

   For several weeks now you’ve been receiving strange gifts on your doorstep. Carcasses of massive animals like moose and bears block you from going to work in the morning. It would be a terrifying bother if you weren’t so used to it at this point.

   Since you moved in you were warned by some of your older, more knowledgeable neighbors about the rituals that occur in your new home. Oh yes, it was a beautiful and safe neighborhood like something from a fairytale. But it didn’t come without its price. Your neighbor with her cauldron and shelves full of twitching bottles and glowing tinctures told you over tea how this little slice of heaven stayed so sweet.

   It was ruled by a powerful wolf pack, a veritable kingdom considering they were allowed to rule over the small town. She told you that during the day you could not tell them from everyone else in a crowd. You weren’t allowed to ask you was a wolf and who was a man. You weren’t allowed to guess aloud who was a wolf. And most importantly you weren’t allowed to tell if you knew.

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