and so those pumped in my head

It’s Love-(Derek Hale)

Originally posted by berezneva-tw

Characters: Lydia Martin(mentioned), Malia Tate(mentioned), Kira Yukimura(mentioned), Peter Hale(mentioned), Derek Hale and (Y/N)

Pairing: Soulmate!Derek x Reader(hinted)

Word Count: 1543

Warnings: you get shot a lot, like seven times?

Summary: Derek keeps company to an injured (Y/N) who’s so out of it because of her meds, she slips up and tells Derek they’re soulmates.

(A/N) so this didn’t go the way I planned but oh well, not sure if I 100% like it. I also have nine(9!!) more one shots in my drafts, so get ready

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MHA AU where everything is the same, except the other kids use All Might merch to bribe Bakugou into doing random little things for them 

Kaminari is the first one to figure it out.

he’s tapping Bakugou on the shoulder during free period. nervously, he asks “Hey Bakugou, could you help me study for the next test?”

and before Bakugou can fire off an angry retort, there’s suddenly an All Might themed mechanical pencil shoved in his face, decorated with the name of the hero’s attacks in bold, comic style script, complete with a tiny little keychain in the shape of All Might’s hair and eyes. Bakugou’s mouth snaps shut.

“I’ll even give you this cool looking pencil I found, dude!! So please, please, pleeeaaase, could you help me? Some of this stuff makes absolutely no sense to me, dude!! I’d ask Yaoyozaru, but she’s already got like, half the class asking her…” Kaminari voice trails off as he notices for the first time that Bakugou isn’t responding to him. Rather, he’s still staring at the pencil in Kaminari’s hand.

A beat passes.

“Uh, Bakugou…? Dude?”

Bakugou seems to snap out of whatever trance he was in, and snatches the pencil from Kaminari. He growls, subdued, and huffs. “Yeah, sure, fine. Meet me in the dorms later, I’ll make you study until your fucking face melts off.”

Kaminari laughs awkwardly, a drop of sweat dripping down the side of his face. “Haha, well, if you say so? As long as I can pass the next test?”

He’s seriously starting to regret this decision. But it’s too late now, he supposes. Ah well. 


Later on, after Kaminari is exhausted from a study session with Bakugou–he looks like a zombie, one of the students cry as he walks in–he shares what he learned with Kirishima. 

He’s sitting next to Kaminari on the couch, patting him on the shoulder and laughing. “You shoulda expected this, dude.” He says cheerfully, not seeming to mind the state his friend is in.

“Yeah. I should’ve….” Kaminari’s voice cracks from exhausted fear, as he leans heavily into the armrest of the couch. 

“But you learned a lot, right?” 

“Yeah, I did…” Kaminari replies. And then his mind goes back to earlier, when he first asked Bakugou for help. How easy it was….

He sits up against the couch, and puts a hand to his chin in thought. “It was actually really easy to get Bakugou to agree to it, though. Way easier than I expected.”

“Well…” Kirishima pauses, and asks, “What’d you say when you asked him?” 

Kirishima runs a hand through his disheveled hair, scratching his head in thought. “That’s the weird thing tho. I offered him a pencil. Just a regular old All Might themed mechanical pencil. But then second he saw it, he got quiet and kept staring at it.”

Hell,” his voice raises in volume along, with his feelings of incredulous disbelief, “He even snatched the thing outta my hand!!

There’s a silence.

“Maybe…” Kirishima begins, slowly. “Maybe he really likes All Might?” 

Kaminari shakes his head, baffled. “But you’ve seen how he acts with sensei!! He’s always really grumpy or glaring or whatever. He never seems happy!!”

Kirishima tilts his head to the side in thought, and finally shrugs. “Well. Maybe we could test it?”

“Test if Bakugou really likes All Might?”

“Test if Bakugou really likes All Might merchandise, at least.”

Kaminari gives him a look of uncertainty, but finally relents. “All right dude. I’m not sure if this’ll work, but go for it.”

Kirishima smiles widely at his friend, and offers a comforting thumbs up in response. 


The next day, Bakugou is quietly sitting at his desk when Kirishima walks up to him. Before he can open his mouth, Bakugou grunts, “What do you want?”

Kirishima smiles, undaunted. “I heard you’re helping Kaminari study. Could I get some of that help too, bro?”

Bakugou growls, “That was just a one time–”

Before he can finish his sentence, something is shoved in his face. Again. 

It’s an All Might themed card. And not just a regular one, either, but a holographic one. It looks rare, or new. Bakugou’s mouth snaps shut.

Kirishima continues. 

“I’ll even give you this super manly card I got the other day if you help me out, dude!!” 

He doesn’t comment on the way Bakugou’s eyes fixate on the card. Or on the way Bakugou doesn’t immediately respond to his words. Or how Bakugou grabs the card out of his hand, in a way that’s both harsh and gentle, so as to not rip the fragile material. 

He doesn’t comment until after Bakugou fixes him with his red eyed stare, and huffs to himself, and finally says “Whatever. I won’t go easy on you, Kirishima. Meet me in the student dorms after class. I’ll make you study until your eyes start bleeding.”

Kirishima lets the threat slide off him, and gives the boy an enthusiastic fist pump. “Cool!! Thanks a lot, dude!!”

“And tell drooly not to miss it, either.” Bakugou mutters, covertly holding the card towards himself. 

Kirishima smiles and nods. “Alright, I’ll remind him. Thanks again!!” With those last words, he turns to head back to his desk, feeling accomplished.


When he finally sits down, Kaminari is already hounding his desk. “So? How’d it go?” He asks.

“Surprisingly… well?” Kirishima shrugs happily.

“What does that mean?!”

“He took the card, dude. Practically ripped it out of my hand and, like, cradled it. I think he actually really likes All Might.”

Kaminari scratches his neck. “Then… why does he always act so angry towards him?”

Kirishima crosses his arms in thought. “Well… maybe…. it’s just one of those things where sometimes you don’t get along with person you admire?” He shrugs again, and smiles. “But whatever. I’ve got a study session with you and Bakugou later, and he told me to remind you.”

Kaminari’s face pales. “Oh no… I’m not sure if I could take another study session with that monster.”

Kirishima laughs at his friend’s dramatics. “C’mon dude, it can’t be that bad, can it?”

He may end up regretting those words later.

Ah well. At least they know something about Bakugou they didn’t before. That’s worth something, right?

fun things you get to experience when you have diabetes
  • getting to stab yourself with needles all the time for fun! except not for fun, but to keep you alive
  • that one oral med you’re on? yeah sometimes it’s just gonna give you diarrhea lol have fun figuring out when
  • your whole body being hot and cold at the same time. like you’re cold, but you’re overheated and you want to take your shirt off but if you do you get massive chills and there’s no winning
  • walking up the stairs when your sugar is high? more like you’ve never done squats that burn this much
  • really bad circulation in your extremities. like your torso is hot but your toes are fucking freezing as hell.
  • being told that your kidney function is “thankfully still okay” or that “you don’t have retinopathy yet
  • stumbling to the kitchen in the middle of the night and having to decide which food will work best to treat a low when your brain doesn’t work and your body doesn’t work and if you don’t pick fast enough you’ll pass out and maybe die
  • going to bed in range and waking up feeling like hell on earth
  • dealing with shit like this:
  • and this
  • having to force yourself to drink water when you’re really really nauseated and want to throw up everything in your stomach. nausea so bad water makes you want to puke
  • ppl telling you it takes 15 minutes to recover from a low when it’s more like 2 hours before you feel like your previous self (and recovery from a really bad high takes like 3 days)
  • an achey body for no good reason
  • friends being like “we should work out together” but you’re like “how tf do I manage my blood sugar while I’m doing that”
  • having to push through and still go to work/school when you feel like shit
  • things that hurt. those pump sites and injections that feel like you’ve been stabbed. your body begging you to feed it. your eyes. your muscles. your head. your stomach. your lungs. everything hurts.
  • having to hear diabetes jokes “lol it was so sweet it gave me diabetes” “omg it’s like a big bowl of diabetes” SHUT THE FUCK UP THATS NOT HOW DIABETES WORKS YOU PIECE OF SHIT but having to hear it and stay calm
  • losing the ability to tell when you’re low so lol you’re in the 30’s and you only just realized
  • having to stop having fun or hanging out with people or having to go home because you’re out of insulin or strips or needles or your site fill out. and by extension, never really being able to do something spontaneous because you always have to think how will i manage the sugaz when I do
  • always worrying about food. where it’ll come from, how to count it, where you can get some of you suddenly drop. food is your biological imperative. if you can’t answer those questions you’re this much closer to dying.
  • you don’t even know who you are without this disease. you know it’s not everything about you but it consumes you. literally. it eats away at your body, eats away at how long you have left to live.
  • having to deal with the monetary cost. like, pay or die? what kind of life is that?
  • never getting to take a break from the ridiculously difficult task of keeping yourself alive.
That Connection [2/?]

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Tech!Reader

Warning: Swearing, angst (come on guys it wouldn’t be me if there wasn’t a little drama in this) and umm sassy, witty, playful banter.

A/N: This is a spin off of Criminal Minds Penelope x Morgan relationship, only they end up together at the end. haha. There will only be like 5 or 6 parts to this at the most. Hope you enjoy, let me know if you want to be tagged.

You being the tech analysis for the Avengers, you’re at their call 24/7 specially when they take off on missions. You have a great relationship with the whole team, but the playful, witty banter you have with Steve is next level, your his favorite girl and he’s your blue eyed god. Little does he realize you’re harboring a deep, brooding love for him, now if only he returned the same feelings.

@mrskokitztelford   @geek13freak
@feelmyroarrrr   @liloscreativeadventures
@addictivewriter  @supermoonpanda
@sebbaevans   @travelwithwords
@barbrichards   @peppermint–teas
@cookaloo  @chrisevansthedoritobastard  
@holahellohialoha  @almightyunnie
@imamotherfuckingstar-lord  @iwillbeinmynest  
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked  @goodnightwife
@irepeldirt  @yourtropegirl
@bellejeunefillesansmerci  @buckyb-avengers
@winterboobaer  @mrhowardstark
@rileyloves5  @ria132love
@mystery94  @marvelfandom-stuff
@tequilavet   @demondeansdomme
@anyakinamidala @50shadesofyes
@sistasarah-sallysaidso @opaque-daydream
@samanthaneedsanap @valentino-and-vogue
@mrs-brxghtside @pato-el-cerdito
@wildestdreamsrps @captain-ros3ann3

Your heels click on the floor under you as you make your way down the office hallway, thumbs clicking away as you text, briefly looking up you see Nat, Wanda and Clint looking out from the meeting room. Quickly you enter through the side door.

“What are we staring at?” You don’t look up still texting away.

“Did you miss the show?” Clint asks with a small chuckle.

Keep reading

Remember that beautiful text Oscar Isaac wrote for “Neue Journal” back in 2015.

Several years ago, I did a movie with William Hurt. I was just was so curious, and blown away by him and his mind. Right before action, he would say to himself, “I’m going to die.” It’s an amazing tool to remind yourself of your mortality. It destroys tension, and puts you in touch with your humanness and how small you are. No matter what context you’re in, you don’t have to be, and can’t be, more than you really are.

Ever since I was little, I’ve been in a constant state of existential anxiety, it’s been a little bit of a preoccupation, and I’m sure I’m not alone. I think that’s probably the state of humans—an utter and palpable feeling of isolation—and that’s why we need to make things. Something happens when this switch gets turned on, and I realize, “Oh my gosh, we’re completely alone.” And that is what I try to tap into. I think that’s probably at the heart of why I like doing this so much. It’s a direct outlet for that anxiety, and through being other people and finding an engine of expression, there’s a feeling of immortality. I get to live all of these lives.

In character, there’s the artisanal aspect that’s interesting, but then there’s the more shamanistic elements, the ritual that is performed, with an audience in the hopes of bridging a spiritual plane. And I try to locate the spiritual plane. I’m obsessed with the idea that when people are really connected to a performance, it’s when the audience and the performer are breathing at the same time. A very pack-animal thing happens. Everyone’s breathing together, they become ‘in’ the same moment together. In a live room, it’s incredible, but with film, you can breathe with someone who’s long dead, but you find yourself moving together at the same rhythm. That’s communicating with the dead.

I believe very strongly in acting as an expressive art, not a communicative one. It’s more akin to abstract painting. When it becomes literal it dies. Because the camera only sees, it doesn’t dictate anything. The audience wants to experience someone seeing and feeling, not judging, not being ahead of it, just expressing their humanity, regardless of what the role is. There is a bit of subversion that has to happen as well, that’s when you connect back to the idea, “I’m going to die.” It’s fucking serious. I’m going to die. I can’t pretend that what’s happening in the room has happened before—it can only be about the present moment, regardless of how it unfolds. But all those things have to be unconscious and it all has to come to a head. And through that crisis, you can give voice to a particular life.

I recently was watching police brutality videos online. It would enrage me so much. My heart pounded from the horror of watching people abuse their power. I put myself there and tried to imagine being the victim or the aggressor. To imagine myself as the cop enraged me all the more, because there was a sadness about it; because you saw that he was all pumped up and the adrenaline was shooting through him, and he was scared—you try to imagine why he became a cop or why certain people become who they become, and how things change both over time and in a second.

We have selective empathy. All people have that. You can empathize with one thing, and then decide that this person does not deserve that. Of course, you know forgiveness is a funny thing. Forgiveness would mean that you still have to recognize their humanity, regardless of their actions or what crimes they commit. Beyond their cruelty, they’re just as isolated as you are. I guess they also have to forgive themselves. They make a construct where they’re not guilty, which is probably their way of survival. It’s a justification. I saturate myself with these things, and they get filtered into my work somehow, particularly the idea of abuse. I think that comes out in Ex Machina. Unconsciously.

The illusiveness of it is everything. As animals, we’re hardwired to respond to change. Any shift in environment, anything that you’re seeing, it electrifies you. In characters I try to find the mystery or the duality. There are always two things happening. One is who they’re trying to present, and two is who they can’t help but be. And those two things are constantly battling each other. And when one comes out, the other one comes out more, and that gives us a sense of, “We don’t know exactly who this person is or what they want.” You’re seeing these changes happening—it’s like meeting a new person. And that makes you pay attention. It lets you get lost in someone.

Sometimes all the work you put in, all the inspiration, all the meditations— all this melts away for a moment, and it really is like an elevated state of being for a second. It actually feels like a deeper version of myself. In those little moments, it’s such a spiritual thing. It’s worth all the work and the humiliation. With this work, although there is little chance of any physical danger, the possibility for psychological danger is high. You’re putting yourself into the arena and trying to allow your unconscious to speak to the world, and it’s a very weird thing to do, so the possibility for humiliation and psychological damage is worth it for the exhilarating moments of grace that happen when you’re surfing your own unconscious reality.

July 20, 2015.

Photo by Brigitte Lacombe.


Summary: Dean buys the reader her favorite holiday treat to cheer her up.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,711

Christmas Request by: @feelmyroarrrr

“Supply run, people. What do you guys want?” Dean asks striding fast into the library.

“Bananas, apples, green beans, bread…see if you can find a wok somewhere.” Sam answers instantly.

“A what?!” Dean exclaims looking a little scared.

“It’s a pan.” Sam says sighing.

“Right. I’ll make sure to look for that.” Dean scoffs giving him a funny look.

“What about you, Y/N?”

“Oreos, IBC root beer, frozen pizza and candy canes.” Dean nods relieved like you’re finally speaking in a language he can understand.

Keep reading

Bath Time-Chanyeol Scenario

Hey guys! Sorry that Hump Day was a bit weird today with NO sexy posts until this one. Real life gets in the way and our days ran together with the holiday being yesterday 😅 Here’s a piece that Admin A wrote. Its yum for all you Chanyeol and Jongdae stans out there✨ -

“Fuck hurry up I need to feel you on me” Chanyeol said as he adjusted for me to straddle him.

It started as an innocent bath but it seems that Chanyeol had other plans. After lots of teasing and neck kissing I found myself straddling him in the tub, about to sink down on him when we heard the door open.

“Oh shit! I forgot to lock it. Fuck.” He whispered as we froze in our spots, trying not to make noise. 

The curtain was drawn, so we weren’t super worried, we just needed to stay quiet. We stayed as still as we possibly could as the other person finished peeing, and we thought we were in the clear, until Chanyeol’s leg twitched, splashing water and catching the attention of whoever was in here.

I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped that whoever it was would just leave, but that idea was cut abruptly short when I heard the shower curtain open.

 I look over and see Jongdae staring at us, mouth wide open, unable to speak. He stayed there for a few awkward moments before clearing his throat and speaking.

“Um… I think I should just…” He began, but he lost his train of thought and trailed off, staring again.

I got an idea and I raised my eyebrows at Chanyeol and smirked before speaking.

“No, It’s okay, stay here if you want. Chanyeol, baby, what do you say we give him a show. Let’s show him how good you can make me feel. One rule though Dae, you can touch yourself, but you can’t touch anyone else unless we say so, got it?” I stated, laying out the ground rules. “And you don’t tell anyone this happened.”

He stood there, mouth agape, and nodded his head in agreement.

“Okay good, go lock the door. We don’t need any more visitors for this.” I said rolling my eyes jokingly.

I was still positioned above Chanyeol and reached down behind me to pump his length a few times, bringing it back to its once hard state as Jongdae returned.

He let out a breath as he returned, licking his lips and watching us once more.

“Okay, i-it’s locked” He stammered, still unsure of how this situation was going to play out.

“Alright baby, where were we?” I asked Chanyeol as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Right about here.” He said as he gripped my hips tightly.

I slowly sank down onto him, causing beautiful low moans to leave his lips. I kiss him deeply as I begin to roll my hips onto him. I look out of the corner of my eye and see Jongdae palming his obviously hard length through his pants, biting his bottom lip as he watched us.

I increased my speed as Chanyeol brought his hips up into me, making the contact even more pleasurable.

“Fuck” I moaned as Chanyeol attached his lips to my neck, sucking a small red mark into my skin.

I heard a small string of moans coming from Jongdae’s mouth as well. I looked over and he had his pants unbuttoned and his hand was down his pants, pumping his length slowly.

“Jongdae”, Chanyeol said as he continued to fuck up into me, sweat forming on his brow. “You can touch her if you want to. Play with her chest. It’ll drive her crazy”

I looked at Chanyeol like he lost his mind, he’s usually possessive, so hearing those words out of his mouth took us both by surprise. He just nodded his head at the both of us and gave Jongdae permission.

He removed his hand from his pants and sat on the edge of the tub. He bit his lip as he slowly brought his hands to my chest, gently kneading my breasts.  

I looked at Jongdae then at Chanyeol for permission and he nodded, reading my mind. I tugged at Jongdae’s pants, urging him to stand for a moment. 

He stood slightly and I pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to allow me access to him. I took his length in my hand and began pumping him as he rolled my nipples between his fingers, this time with a bit more pressure than before. I moaned at the sensation of both men’s actions as Chanyeol thrusted into me hard.

I continued pumping Jongdae and he let out a loud moan as he found his release. He pinched my nipples between his fingers hard as Chanyeol moved his hand to my clit, quickly rubbing circles into it as he continued to fuck into me. 

I screamed out and closed my eyes as my orgasm ripped through my body in waves, causing Chanyeol to ride out his high as well, a loud moan spilling from his lips as he pulled me onto him hard.

Jongdae got a small towel from the cupboard and cleaned himself up before leaving, a small smirk plastered across his face.

“Hey Jongdae” Chanyeol called out to him as he opened the door to leave”

“Yeah??” Jongdae asked, turning his head back towards us.

“Make sure you lock the door on the way out” Chanyeol said as I readjusted myself to sit in front of him.

Jongdae made sure to turn the lock before closing it behind him, allowing us to finish our bath in peace.

Foolproof Plan

Pairing(s): Gladion x Moon, Hau x Lillie

Note(s):  This took me SOOO long to put up. I was inspired by a wedding, and refused to write anything else until I got this done, but life has been overwhelmingly busy. But i finally finished and let me tell you I did research into these “how to” guides and just felt myself cringing at them LOL. 

Step 1: Admit Your Feelings

One too many drinks.

That’s what got them into this situation.

One too many drinks and a lively party celebrating Hau’s promotion to Kahuna.

And it wasn’t the promotion that brought everyone to the festivities. It was the overly eager Champion who declared that the long awaited announcement needed a party. A party, to regular lively Alola standards, needed to be taken a notch higher specifically for Hau.

A notch so high that everyone would have the time of their lives.

And this was true, cause not even Gladion was an exception.

 This exception, however, could handle his liquor better than the party planner herself. “To make sure she doesn’t die I’ll babysit her” he told Lillie before he took her outside to get some fresh air. She was the only other one to notice the Champion clumsily, yet happily, parading the party.

Keep reading

Love Fern


  • Ohh, all of those prompts are interesting. Tbh it was extremely hard for me to choose between a few, but I made my choice. 14 with Kihyun please~ Thank you in advance!!
  • Yasssss requests are opennn… Can you please do #14 with Kihyun and make it so that they’re in a platonic relationship but when another MX member comes over they think they’re living together cuz they’re dating??? Thanks!!! 💛

14) Looking for a roommate? Your bias is as good as any

Member: Monsta X Kihyun x Y/N

Type: Fluff

You clicked idly on your laptop, tilting your head back and forth in time with the music pumping from it’s speakers. You looked up and over the edge of the screen as a knock sounded on the door, your gaze catching the eyes of your roommate. 

“Your turn,” you hummed. 

“Oh shut up,” he grumbled, setting his own laptop to the side. “It’s my turn every turn.”

“Because you’re a big and strong, scary man,” you called after him as he exited the room. “You could ward off any intruders!” 

“Yeah, cause the last time I checked, burglars knocked,” he muttered, turning the knob. 

You chuckled to yourself as you continued to scroll through your Tumblr feed, only looking up when you heard an array of loud voices barrel through the door.

Wonho shuffled into the living area with a happy Minhyuk close behind. You froze for a moment, furrowing your brows as you looked up at the two familiar men. 

“I just want to let you know that I did not invite them in,” Kihyun sighed, trailing behind the pair. “And this is indeed, a home invasion.” 

“What in the hell are you holding, Hoseok?” you asked, tilting your head. You shut your laptop and moved it onto the couch before standing. 

“It’s a love fern!” he smiled, readjusting to better hold the large pot in his hands. It housed a small, tree-like plant that seemed to be half-dead already. 

“Well, technically it’s a ficus,” Minhyuk nodded, reaching forward and touching one of the waxy leaves. He rubbed it softly between his fingers, causing it to instantly detach from the branch with a pop. HIs eyes grew wide as he looked from the tree, to Wonho, and then back to you. 

Wonho looked up as well, his smile as wide as before. “It’s a love ficus!” 

“Why did you show up, uninvited I may add, with a plant?” Kihyun asked, crossing his arms as he looked at the members disapprovingly. 

“To say congratulations!” Minhyuk nodded happily. 

“Congratulations for what exactly?” you muttered. You shot Kihyun a worried expression as he looked on, just as confused as you were. 

“Moving out of the dorms!” Wonho nodded. “And finally taking the domestic plunge! Young love deserves a love fern.”

“Ficus,” Minhyuk said quietly. 

“I’m going to need you to take a step back,” Kihyun said, biting his lip. Both men nodded, taking actual, physical steps backward into the kitchen area. 

“No,” Kihyun groaned. “Mentally. A verbal step back. What do you mean…young love?” 

“You two,” Minhyuk nodded. “Y/N and Kihyun sitting in a tree,”

“Living d-o-m-e-s-t…ically” Wonho finished with a grin. 

“I think you guys are confused,” you said slowly. “Kihyun and I…”

You looked up to Kihyun at a loss. Both boys meant well, but you and Kihyun simply weren’t together. It had never been something you had ever really even had a conversation about. Sure, he was attractive. Sure, you enjoyed spending time with him. Mostly, your friendship consisted of lowkey flirting and spicy sass, but you were under the impression that was how Kihyun acted with most everyone he came into contact with. 

You hadn’t ever really considered the idea until this very moment when it felt obvious to everyone but you. 

“We are very much not together,” Kihyun nodded slowly, looking from you and focusing on his two members. You winced at the way he drew out the syllables. Your expression formed an unintentional look of hurt, causing him to immediately thrust his hands before him, and shake them in defense. “But like, not saying Y/N is undateable or anything. Very appealing. Very datable. Just not me.” 

Wonho and Minhyuk both furrowed their brows as they turned to look at each other. Wonho took a few steps forward, dropping the heavy plant into your hands. He crossed his muscular arms and tilted his head. “…so…what you’re saying is…”

“You aren’t dating?” Minhyuk said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Then why did you two move in together?” 

“Because I needed a roommate,” Kihyun sighed, leaning against the counter. You struggled beneath the weight of the plant and groaned. Minhyuk rushed forward and helped you place it on the ground before shooting Kihyun a dirty look. 

“Then why didn’t you ask one of us?” 

“I would still be living at the dorm if I wanted to live with one of you two,” Kihyun chuckled, his eyes disappearing in his cheeks. 

“I’m going to pretend like that didn’t hurt my feelings,” Minhyuk murmured softly. Wonho smiled sadly at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

“He didn’t mean it like that,” Wonho hummed. 

“But I did,” Kihyun cackled. “I absolutely did mean it like that.” 

Minhyuk crossed his arms and began to pout as he looked back and forth from you to Kihyun. “Can we even return a plant? What do we say? The love fern is defective?” 

“No, just the relationship is was meant for,” Wonho chuckled, patting his friend on the shoulder. 

“Why do you keep calling it a love fern anyway?” you sighed. 

“To have the commitment of both of you taking care of the same thing,” Wonho nodded. “Not as intense as a puppy…if this dies, you’ll only be mildly inconvenienced. Not like…having to deal with a dead - ” 

“Thank you for not getting us a puppy,” Kihyun grinned, his eyes meeting yours. “We would have felt really guilty about the return then.” 

“I still don’t know how I return a plant,” Minhyuk said quietly, stumbling forward to pick up the large pot. 

“No, no,” you clucked, pushing his hands away. “We’ll keep it.” 

“But, you guys said-” Minhyuk began. 

“It can be a housewarming gift,” you nodded. “We need to learn how to be a team, even as roommates. It’ll be a good thing to take care of.” 

Minhyuk stood up straight and smiled. “Well…good.” 

“See! It all worked out!” Wonho nodded, grinning at his counterpart. He tapped the younger boy lightly on the nose. “The plant was a good idea after all.” 

“I’m still surprised you two aren’t dating,” Minhyuk sighed. “Maybe you should. People may be getting the wrong idea-”

“Oh, who gives a shit what people think,” Kihyun sighed. “We don’t need to date to be able to live in the same space.” 

“It just looks prettier,” Minhyuk grumbled. “Plus you two would make a cute couple.” 

“Yeah, so would you and Wonho, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Kihyun spat. 

You scrunched your face, mildly offended by the ongoing conversation. You were surprised by the vehemency at which Kihyun was warding off any advances Wonho and Minhyuk attempted to make for you romantically. Granted, you didn’t know if you even felt that way about Kihyun, but to see him so put off by the idea of you two together kind of hurt your feelings. 

“Matter of fact, we do,” Wonho nodded, taking the back and forth argument in stride. “I was promised sushi if I carried something heavy.” 

“Right,” Minhyuk nodded. “You two want to come?”

 You looked up and smirked, focusing on Kihyun. “Would that be too much like a date? I mean, I don’t want to get crazy here.” 

“One, I don’t like the tone,” Kihyun sighed. “Two, I already marinated beef for dinner.”

“Can’t you cook it tomorrow?” Minhyuk whined. “We miss you.” 

“No I can’t,” Kihyun whined in the same tone. “Give a man some notice next time.” 

“Man? I see no man here,” Minhyuk giggled. “Other than the hungry one beside me. Shall we go then, Hoseok?”

“Sure,” Wonho nodded. “See you later, Y/N! Bye Kihyun.” 

“Bye,” Kihyun muttered. 

“Bye, Y/N!” Minhyuk smiled, launching forward to give you a hug. “Pity about the whole not dating thing. But it’s probably better for you that you aren’t dating that grouch.” 

“I am a dream,” Kihyun croaked. “And anyone would be lucky to have me.” 

“Just cause you repeat it to yourself doesn’t mean it’s true,” Minhyuk whispered quickly. “Byeeeee!” 

Kihyun groaned as the front door shut and began to drag his body toward the living room. You plopped on the couch, setting your chin on your palm as you stared at the large plant now in front of you. 

Kihyun sat down beside you and sighed. 

“You know…it may not be like…a bad idea?” he whispered, focusing on the plant as well. 

“What wouldn’t be a bad idea?” you croaked. “Getting food? Taking care of the communal plant?” 

“No, I mean…you know,” he nodded, finally looking up and catching your eyes. 

“No, I don’t know,” you said, shaking your head. “But please, do tell.” 

“I mean…like maybe we should…” he trailed, whispering the final part of the sentence just low enough so you couldn’t hear. 

“What?” you asked, tilting your head. 

“Maybe we should…” he trailed. “Or something.”

“Kihyun, you have to speak u-”

“I SAID MAYBE WE SHOULD GO ON A DATE SOMETIME,” he gasped. “I mean…it’s not like the WORST idea…” 

You lifted your brows, trying to hide a chuckle. “Oh? You think so?” 

“It’s cool with me if it’s cool with you,” Kihyun said with a shrug. He immediately looked down to his feet. He liked to pretend he was noncommittal, but you knew he was dying inside as he waited for your response. 

“You don’t think it would mess up this whole dynamic?” you asked, motioning to the apartment around you. “The whole roommate thing?”

“Well, if it does,” he sighed. “As you saw, I could have a replacement roommate in minutes.” 

“You’re just so charming,” you grumbled, shaking your head. You punched him lightly in the shoulder and set him with a serious gaze. “Seriously though, don’t feel compelled because Hoseok was sprouting all of this dumb and meaningless stuff about a love fern.” 

“Not meaningless! Who are we to leave a love fern without two committed parents?” he asked, lifting his brows. “Frankly, I think it would be pretty irresponsible to not date now that it’s in our house.” 

“Of course,” you chuckled. “What was I possibly thinking?” 

“Pfft, well I’m glad I can be here to bring you to your senses,” Kihyun nodded, the smile growing on his face. “So what do you say? After I cook dinner we go for a movie? I’ll even pay for the tickets.” 

“Jees, what a gentleman,” you gasped in feigned awe. 

“I may even buy you some popcorn,” he chuckled. “And maybe even try to hold your hand.” 

“Ooo,” you cooed, wiggling your brows. “Do you think you’ll fake a yawn to put your arm around me?” 

“I may just have to!” he said with wide eyes. He immediately dissolved into a fit of soft chuckles as you both fell backward onto the couch. 

“So…we’re really going to try this…huh?” you hummed, looking up at him through your lashes. 

Kihyun bit his lip as he shifted, leaning so he could better face you. He reached out, letting his arm wiggle around your lower back, and pull you in close. You nearly forgot how to breath as this new development moved into place. You had never been this close to your friend before and never thought you would be. 

“Well…why not?” 

Originally posted by babywoon

anonymous asked:

This might sound weird, but how about a GIRLee Girls' Night Out?

hahaha you got it nonnie (names are from shinee’s school of rock (starts at 5:05) which they took part in TWO months after their debut wow! ~ the short’s genre is horror just a head’s up! 


  • has been trying to curl her hair for the past half hour
  • every few minutes “aH hot!!!” / minjung: omg you are a hazard to yourself
  • minjung offered to help and now she has v different curls going on on each side of her head
  • doesn’t know why she even bothered bc her hair is going UP when she dances 
  • absolutely refuses to wear heels bc the time she did she missed a step and almost died so she’s wearing dr. martens and no gwiboon we’re not even the same shoe size IT’LL BE FINE
  • almost fighting people to get to the bar bc she just wants a drink and a sEAT
  • she will stomp on someone’s foot with her heavy af boots by the end of the night probably


  • wants to stay in and bum but……………
  • breaks out her huge five inch red pumps (”HELLO MY BABIES” / gwiboon: you could kill a man with those…. i approve)
  • and after she puts on her bombass outfit she’s so hype
  • blasts edm while everyone is getting ready and that’s why her eyeliner is a bit uneven
  • walking around like her feet aren’t killing her 
  • it’s weird being able to see the top of minjung’s head 
  • she feels sO POWERFUL 
  • after a few drinks her wild side comes out (minjung: oh shit it’s jongmiiiiiii go jongmi go jongmi)
  • climbed up on the stage and when ot4 try to get her to come down she pulls them up and at first they’re like sos but then they dance their hearts out


  • her cat eye, brows, red lips, and highlighter are on point
  • basically her entire face
  • but her clothes/shoes too so basically just all of her, so on point 
  • when they first got to the club they all really needed to pee but there was a huge line for the girls’ bathroom so she burst into the boys’, wielding taeyeon and yelled “SHE NEEDS TO THROW UP” so they got a stall for themselves 
  • drinking a white wine bc she would (ot4: *~sipping of fruity cocktails~* these have so much more alcohol in them)
  •  is tired of yelling over the music so she texts everyone if she wants to say something 
  • when people ask her if she wants a drink she asks for water bottles and passes them out to ot4 (”hydrate, hydrate, hydrate, *takes away jongmi’s drink* junghee will thank me later and also hydrate”)


  • keeps rolling down the window of the cab to yell WHOOOOO at passerbys 
  • really pleased when people whooo back 
  • wearing sneakers and allowing junghee’s little height victory 
  • rolling her eyes when she tries to use her as an armrest (you’re not quite tall enough for that my dude / junghee: *grinning like her face is going to split* whatever shortie) 
  • took off one of her false eyelashes and put it on taeyeon and she swears she didn’t think that she would run out of the club screaming bc where is the logic in that?????? there are more bugs out ther taeyeon you misguided soul 
  • yell-rapping every song 
  • her lipstick is smeared and ot4 all have pink lipmarks on their cheeks 


  • making friends in the girls’ bathroom and now she has 7 more instagram followers (junghee: who was that?? / taeyeon: shrug emoji) 
  • dude they give french fries at the bar oh hey eunsook since when were you here 
  • wants to dance dance dance da-dance 
  • fantastic baby 
  • her hair has whipped several people who moved away grumbling 
  • if it looks like they’re going to start a problem minjung and gwiboon just stare them down until they walk away 
  • shuffling 
  • boom shakalaka 

Randy Stair speaking with eagerness in The Plan:

“It’s fool proof. You can’t fail at this, which is why it’s so ingenious. It is the perfect scenario to off people. And if you have the exits blocked, you have ‘em right where you want ‘em. There’s no where for them to go. So…[pumps shotgun] I can’t wait. It is going to be awesome. And yeah my, my uh… there’s going to be all kinds of thoughts racing through my head in those final few minutes, just like, like I’m so ready, like there’s going to be so much adrenaline flowing through me. I’m gonna feel like, more powerful than I ever have in my life, and there’s not going to be anyone that’s gonna be able to stop me, which is beautiful.”

anonymous asked:

Hi could you possibly write me a jeff atkins x reader using the prompts 50, & 62. like they get into a huge fight and it's v sad and it's clay who has to be like jeff wtf you broke her and idk make the end however you want❤️❤️

A/N: I had my birthday this week and I’m so hyped about everything
Word Count: 470
Requested: Yas hunny
Pairing: Jeff Atkins x Female Reader

You stormed out from Jeff’s house as you hear his words.
“You are just a filthy cheating whore”
Those words repeated in your head as you ran faster and faster. Tears flowed through your face and your vision became blurrier. Suddenly you pumped to someone and you got up from the street you saw your best friend Clay right in front of you. His face was s h o o k e d.
“Y/n  what happened ? Did Jeff hit you ? Y/n answer” he yelled and shakes your shoulders until you opened your mouth.
“H-he …..” You couldn’t finish your words because you started crying again. You felt Clay’s hands around you. He just held you and said that he is going to murder Jeff what you didn’t believe ( because Clay is a little sweetheart and he wouldn’t hurt a fly ) . Clay walked with you to your house and stayed with you.
You both were watching some old 90s’ comedies before Clay’s phone rang.
“I h-have to take this” he said as he left the living room. Over 20 minutes passed by and Clay didn’t come back so you sneaked a little and heard Clay’s voice.
You broke her,I don’t think that you realize how much your words hurt her” Clay spat those words you could see how angry he was and how he tried to hold himself so he wouldn’t go right now and beat the shit out of Jeff.
“Yeah sure see you at 10” He said and ended the call.
You didn’t want to show him that you hear half of his conversation with your (ex)boyfriend so you ran fast you could to the sofa and pretend to be interested in the movie.

“Y/N I’m so sorry but I have to go right now” Clay said as he hugged you and then left you alone to your house.
You snuggled yourself in on the blanket and as you were about take a nap your phone started buzz.
When you took it you saw millions of missed calls and texts from Jeff. You started by reading the texts

“Y/n I’m so so so sorry “
“Y/n answer me”
“ Please don’t leave me”
“I’m sorry okay I got jealous when I saw Justin all over you and I just….”
“Babe please forgive me ”

You felt tears fall through your cheeks and you started listening to voicemails that he left for you.

“Baby or should I say y/n I know that what I said hurt you and I’m so sorry for saying what I said I just thought that I lose you for someone else you deserves you… it will make break me… seeing you with someone else making you happy and yeah I know…I am an idiot heartless man for making you cry.

part 2 ? 

A Curse of Ecstasy

This is how I look.  How I look is who I am.

In a mirror, I fascinate myself.

Walking down the street, I fascinate others.  I draw their eyes.

The universe revolves around me, because I have shaped my own universe.  I am aware of this truth, but I do not let it change me.  I am how I look.

That is muscle under my skin.  You can see its ridges, its sweep.  All of the muscles combined in my body are one creature, a creature I trained exhaustively for many years until it was able to stand tall inside of me and spread its wings. 

I spread mine with it.  I stand up tall, I meet gazes.  Whispers do not reach my height.  Feeble shouts from those I left behind are little more than timid breezes against my jawline.

I dress like this because I can.  I do not ask for permission.  I am proud to show off the creature of muscle that lives beneath my skin.  It breathes fire, it arches & flexes.  It likes to show off.

I command.  I can pin you down, see through you in a second’s worth of time.  I know your foibles and your hungers.  I know what kind of fool you are, and I know what kind of man you can be.  I will follow you down the dark hallway and pin you by the shoulders to the dark wall, the rustle of our skin scraping against each other.  You will fight - I would not have chosen you otherwise - but you will lose.  You will lose a piece of yourself in the losing, but gain a piece of something else - something submissive, something wanting.  Something desperately hungry. 

You see, it’s easy to thrall to me, to swoon and sway internally as I walk by.  I make it simple for you to want to understand me.  I may even be playful with you.  I may offer clues to myself, but you’ll never be able to put all the pieces together, and that mystery excites you.  You tent in your pants as I approach, because you know that I cannot be entirely unraveled.  You need a drink of water.  Or a beer.  Or a shot.

The first time we talk, it’s funny to watch you posture and mug in front of me.  It’s clear to me that you only ape at being a man.  I know that you’d rather be an ape.  Knuckle-dragging.  You play up your intelligence because it’s the only piling you have to stand on.  You’re so obvious it makes me chuckle a little.  Eventually, though, you’ll run out of words.  It takes awhile, but eventually the beer wins out and you are a little bleary and slightly more clear at the same time.  I like you better with smaller words coming out of your mouth.  I’d like you even better if those words slushed into grunts, removing words completely.  Removing brains completely.  Dozy, hazy eyes and grunts of contentment or confusion.  Big dumb eyes and big dumb biceps.  Just like mine.  It won’t be too hard to get you to want that.  Just like mine.  You’d climb up a mountain of broken skulls to be just a little more like me.

And it will be so easy to fuck the intelligence out of your head.  In the dark bedroom, with your body and face pressed to the mattress, back hyper-flexed and asshole pumping around my rigid cock, you will feel those pesky words and errant notions slammed out of you.  Again and again and again, until you are a milky-white splatter of drool & cum.  And, like a moss, it will grow on your brain, each time we meet in the bend of the bedroom.  You will chuckle low when you’re amused, or even if you’re not, just so often that you might seem a little retarded.  Developmentally challenged.  Following me around because you are in my orbit, and I exert pull, even when we aren’t in the same space.

All this, but you only see it in a brief flash, a flash-quick vision, as you sit beside me at the bar and realize your head has been nodding, like being pulled up & down slowly on a string, this entire conversation.  You make an effort to stop it, but somehow your efforts are unsuccessful.  You should be vaguely alarmed, but you’re not.

And this is how I find you.  It’s easy if you know where to look.  I can see more of you - you’re not that special - out there in the crowd.  Scanning for men like me, over & over, and you are all filled to the brim with wispy sighs and dreams of possible magic.  You’re curious and afraid at the same time of meeting my gaze for the first time.  You know that, when you do, when the shades come off, that you may be looking at my eyes for a very, very long time.  Perhaps forever.  Even though you see other things, you are still looking into my eyes.  On the periphery, the sinews of my muscle twist & writhe, the caged beast resettling itself over the frame of my skeleton.

I catch a glimpse of your shudder.  It is of two - terror & ecstasy at once.

And this is as it should be.

The following post is going to be highly personal. I know I don’t usually post personal content on this blog but unfortunately I don’t know how to make read mores on mobile so apologies in advance. I usually keep these things to myself but lately I’ve just been wishing for a girl who will take care of me. Someone who’ll walk in to the room when I’m least expecting it and blow my head clean off with a UTS-15

For those of you that don’t know, The UTAS UTS-15 originates from Turkey and is a fantastic bullpup 12 gauge, pump-action shotgun. It comes along with two, 7-round magazines that can either feed in a selecting, or an alternating pattern. It’s constructed out of fibre reinforced polymer, which makes it both strong, but also light weight. The shotgun also supports various optical and iron sights, alongside with other add-ons

At this moment in time, some of the main features of the UTAS UTS-15 are its bullpup design, the twin magazine tubes, the top mounted rail, the alternating or selected tube feed, the built-in laser and light controls, alongside with the threaded barrel, thus allowing the gun to be adapted for any situations whatsoever

Next we’ll compare the UTS-15 to some of its closest competitors. Wh

okay so, a while ago i got this request

and when i started writing it i did intend to stick to the prompt buuuuuut…

i got a little carried away with my own take on it, wanting to pace the story in at least a half decent way and making it a little more than just a short imagine. 

SO i started writing it but i’m gonna let you guys read this first part and see if y’all like it before continuing it. without further adieu, i present to you a hella long imagine and perhaps one of the most cliche pieces i’ve ever written;

Keep reading
(It’s Great to) Suck at Something
I’m terrible at surfing. Then why do it? Because the freedom to fail without caring is revelatory.
By Karen Rinaldi

By: Karen Rinaldi
NY Times, April 28, 2017

Over the past 15 years, surfing has become a kind of obsession for me. I surf eight months a year. I travel to surf destinations for family vacations and seek (forgiving) waves in the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. I have spent thousands of dollars on boards of all sizes and shapes.

And yet — I suck at it. In the sport of (Hawaiian) kings, I’m a jester. In surfing parlance, a “kook.” I fall and flail. I get hit on the head by my own board. I run out of breath when held down by a four-foot wave. I wimp out when the waves get overhead and I paddle back to shore. When I do catch a wave, I’m rarely graceful. On those rare occasions when I manage a decent drop, turn and trim, I usually blow it by celebrating with a fist pump or a hoot.

Once, I actually cried tears of joy over what any observer would have thought a so-so performance on a so-so wave. Yes, I was moved to tears by mediocrity.

So why continue? Why pursue something I’ll never be good at?

Because it’s great to suck at something.

When people hear that I surf, I get a knowing nod of awesomeness from the terra firma-bound. I know what they’re picturing: me on a thruster, carving up and down a wave face until I casually kick out the back to paddle out to the line up for another. The truth is that most surfers don’t come close to what we see in highlight videos. But pretty’s not the point. The point is the patience and perseverance it requires to get back on the board and try again. After a surf instructor pushed me into my first wave, it took me five years to catch one on my own.

When I do catch a wave and feel the glide, I’ll hold onto that feeling for hours, days or even weeks. I’m hooked on the pursuit of those moments, however elusive they may be. But it’s not the momentary high that has sustained me. In the process of trying to attain a few moments of bliss, I experience something else: patience and humility, definitely, but also freedom. Freedom to pursue the futile. And the freedom to suck without caring is revelatory.

My friend Andy Martin is a Cambridge don of French literature. He has surfed the world over. But about his status as a surfer, he tells me, “I am called a surfer only at Cambridge.” In his mind, he sucks, but he’s O.K. with that. That being O.K. is the humility that comes only with sucking and persevering.

The notion of sucking at something flies in the face of the overhyped notion of perfectionism. The lie of perfectionism goes something like this: “If I fail, it’s only because I seek perfection.” Or “I can never finish anything because I’m a perfectionist.” Since the perfectionist will settle for nothing less, she is left with nothing.

Self-knowledge here is key. No one ever tells you how much you suck at something. Unless you have a mean boss, an abusive parent or a malicious friend, most people are happy to help us maintain the delusion that our efforts are not in vain. No, we cannot count on people around us to let us know how much we suck. It is far more acceptable to compliment than to criticize. So the onus is on us as individuals to admit to ourselves how much we suck at something. And then do it anyway.

By taking off the pressure of having to excel at or master an activity, we allow ourselves to live in the moment. You might think this sounds simple enough, but living in the present is also something most of us suck at.

Think about how focused you become when you’re presented with something totally new to accomplish. Now, what happens when that task is no longer new but still taps into intense focus because we haven’t yet mastered it? You’re a novice, an amateur, a kook. You suck at it. Some might think your persistence moronic. I like to think of it as meditative and full of promise. In the words of the Zen teacher Shunryu Suzuki, “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities; in the expert’s mind, there are few.” When I surf, I live in the possibility.

Or, as the great father of surfing, Duke Kahanamoku, wisely advised: “Be patient. Wave come. Wave always come.”

But, then what’s going to happen?

As my friend Michael Scott Moore wrote in his book, “Sweetness and Blood,” “When a surfer takes off on a wave, there are two possible results.” Fairly predictably for me, the outcome is an epic fail. Yet, I remain hopeful that this time will be better than the last.

Maybe sucking at something where the stakes are low can lead us to a better place. Maybe it could be a kind of a medicine for the epidemic cocksureness in our culture. Seeing ourselves repeatedly doing something we suck at — no matter how trivial — might make us a bit more sympathetic to how hard so many things really are: trying to navigate health issues, listening to our neighbors, improving the economy or mitigating relations with hostile nations.

By exposing ourselves to the experience of trying and failing we might develop more empathy. If we succeed in shifting from snap judgments to patience, maybe we could be a little more helpful to one another — and a whole lot more understanding.

If we accept our failures and persevere nonetheless, we might provide a respite from the imperative to succeed and instead find acceptance in trying. Failing is O.K. Better still, isn’t it a relief?

There’ll always be another chance. And another after that, trust me. Be patient. Waves come. Waves always come.

Trailers can always be misleading, we won’t really know until we actually get to see the movie itself, but so far the Thor: Ragnarok trailer is everything I was hoping for from Marvel for this part of the franchise!

I liked both Thor and Thor: The Dark World, but I do feel like they were hampered by trying to keep one foot in both worlds, one Earth-bound and one Cosmic Marvel.  I’ve been hoping that they would just go full throttle Cosmic because that’s where so much potential is, while the Avengers and Iron Man and Captain America all cover the Earth side well.  (And Doctor Strange and Ant-Man and Black Panther and Spider-Man.  There’s no shortage of movies covering the Earth side of things.)  Galaxy of the Guardians instead went for the Cosmic stuff, was bright and colorful and fun, it was fresh compared to the same setting we’ve seen before.

To see Ragnarok instead heading for space and other worlds, while still mixing in Thor characters like Valkyrie and Hela, is EVERYTHING I WANTED.  And, oh, the music was perfect, I’ve watched the trailer at least five times now (and will watch it more) and EVERY TIME it gets to the last quarter, I am so pumped for this movie that I can’t even really convey my feelings.  I can’t tell you how amazing it is every time Hela in Hel turns to the camera with those giant antlers on her head that look fantastic.  Or when she spits, “Asgard is dead.” and we see the blast washing over Asgard.  Or when Valkyrie drags Thor to the Grandmaster.  Or when we finally see Hulk in the trailer, the joke is delightful, I grin a giant :D face every single time, and then, oh, the ending, I want to see that fight so bad, I want to see everything high octane about this movie, because it looks like finally, yes, this is going to be such a ride.

It’s everything I’ve wanted for the Thor franchise for so long now.


Originally posted by smendesgifs

Shawn Mendes x Reader

Word count: 938

A/N: Anon requested ; “Shawn showing you his photoshoot and it ends smutty” soooooo here it is ! X


I hear the front door open and close as I sit on my bed, in awe, watching my laptop screen intently. I flick from video to gif to photo to gif to my drink bottle. I knew Shawn’s ‘Flaunt Magazine’ photoshoot was coming out today but I must say, I was certainly not prepared for this. My jaw is basically in my lap as I look through the photos for what must be the hundredth time. “Y/N?” Shawn calls from downstairs. “Up here!” I yell, not taking my eyes off the beauty in front of me. As I see Shawn’s figure walking through the doorway, I finally lift my eyes off the screen. “H-” He begins but I put my hand up to shush him. “I am honestly lost for words. Like I just don’t know what to say right now.” I say, my mouth still agape. He furrows his brows in concern. “Have I done something?” He asks softly. I grab my laptop and turn it around for Shawn to view what I’ve been looking at all morning. His cheeks instantly flush and he pushes the computer away from his sight. “Wha-why?” He asks so obviously embarrassed about the situation. “Um maybe because I know how attractive you are normally but this is on a COMPLETE different level of like… fucking sexy!? And you said you weren’t sure it even went well!” I almost yell, completely exasperated, my hands waving around, unable to hide my love and appreciation for the shoot. Shawn places both hands on his face and falls onto the bed, burying his face in the duvet.

Keep reading

Rule of Thumb Pt. 3

Requested: yes

TW: abo, alpha dean, omega reader, breeding kink, knotting, angst

Summary: Omega Reader is staying with Dean and they have grown on each other. Things get a little hot. 

Originally posted by dreamweightjensenacklesontopofme

A lot can happen in forty eight hours. Dean and Y/N formed a closeness that was chemical. They bonded over the slightest things, relaxing that the other wasn’t just an alpha or just an omega. 

In the warmth of Dean’s apartment, Y/N sipped leisurely on a beer while flipping through a box of records. Dean had been out late, and damn she wasn’t letting herself get jealous. Y/N heard the door unlock and turned slightly, watching Dean strut bow legged inside.  "Honey I’m home!” His smile spreading at the sight of the thick omega in his home. 

Both of them smiled fondly at each other. Y/N found it hard not to stare at his grease covered hands and face. His green eyes were darker than usual, his smile more meaningful than before. He could smell it. She probably wasn’t even aware of it yet, but Dean could smell the slick scent of omega and licked his lips. 

Y/N pulled herself out of the trance she was in, motioning to the Led Zeppelin assortment. “My two rule of thumbs: don’t trust alphas or anyone who listens to Led Zeppelin.” 

His eyebrows raised in amusement. “Come on sweetheart, they’re amazing.” 

She scoffed and put the record down, picking up the Back in Black album instead.  “The Stones are amazing, AC/DC are amazing.”  Turning, she was met with a strong chest. 

“So are you.” His voice was husky, full of gravel.  The action startled her, but she soon eased into his wide chest. Dean shook his head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” He took a step back, holding her at arms length. 

“No, it’s fine. I, really, I mean I know how I smell.” She grumbled shifting her legs. “And you smell heavenly.” 

Dean took a step forward, rubbing a thumb over the back of her hand. “Honey bee.” He purred kissing her forehead. There was a crack inside Y/N that signaled a burst of omega scent. "Omega.” He whimpered. 

She whined loudly, seeking out his chest, trying to hide away. “Alpha.” Her thoughts clouded over to how badly she wanted this. She wanted to stay with Dean and his family in this shitty town. Never before in her life had she felt so safe and so loved. 

Dean shook his head, trying to put space between them. “Your car’s fixed darlin’, I don’t want you feeling like you have to do this.”  

Y/N shook her head reaching out for him. “Don’t you want me?” The blissful feeling from earlier was gone, fear started to pump through her. Dean would be just like Alex. He didn’t care. He was just too much of a gentleman to say otherwise. 

She never game him the chance to respond, grabbed her purse and ran out the door of his apartment. How could she have been so stupid? An alpha like Dean wouldn’t  want someone like her. Her eyes darted around, trying to find some place that she would be safe. It seemed like going to get her car would be best, her heat would draw unwanted attention. 

Dean flew down his stairs, running for her. He grabbed her by the elbow as she turned the corner in the sidewalk. “Don’t you dare.” It was a growl. 

Y/N whined, a mess of hormones and emotions. “Alpha.”

He nodded pulling her back to the safety of his chest. “You can’t leave me yet. You can’t leave Lawrence yet. There’s so much left to see, okay not really, but please just wait.”

Dean stroked a thumb over her cheek. “Your heat is killing me. It’s taking everything in me not to bend you over right now and pump you full of my pups.” 

“Want that.” 

“Baby, just stay until your next heat, and if you still want me to, baby you’ll be knotted so good and full every alpha in the whole damn country will know you’re mine.” 

“Do you want me?” 

“Y/N i’ve been falling in love with you since you showed up in the shop.” 

That was just enough reassurance for her to cave into his chest. She rested a moment. “I’m out of suppressants and those help me.”

Dean nodded kissing her head. “I know little girl, I know. We’ll go to the pharmacy and pick some up and then see how you feel.”

They both left hoping for next month’s heat.