and yes i realize i am lame for only watching this now

anonymous asked:

Why are birds so amazing?

This is a tough question, and a very big question. Since it’s just about impossible to objectively explain why birds are amazing (they are, btw), maybe I can explain why birds amaze me and why they’re the focus of both my career and a significant portion of my recreational time.

1. Birds are dinosaurs that you can hold today.

Flashback to 2010, a time when little Redstart was thinking about applying to college. For a while I was convinced I would pursue animation and go be some awesome art director of nifty animated films starring animals. Then I realized that a) I wasn’t good enough or motivated enough to make it, and b) having art as a career would ruin creating art for me. So, then it was back to my other passion: paleontology.

I literally applied to college planning to be a geology/biology double major with a long-term career goal of being a professor of paleobiology. I doggedly pursued this game until my sophomore year of college, when I discovered birds.

Birds are dinosaurs. Just about everyone knows this now (thank goodness). The big, significant realization here is that you can study dinosaurs today. Think about the magnificent breadth and depth of scientific questions you can ask about an animal when it’s right in front of you, instead of turned into rock and shattered into a million fragments! Don’t get me wrong; paleontology is an awesome field. But instead of dedicating my life to recreating the world of millions of years ago, I decided to work on unraveling the mysteries of today’s dinosaurs.

2. Birds are Pokémon.

Stay with me, now! As a wee youth I was obsessed with Pokémon. Wait, I’m still obsessed with Pokémon. Well, it turns out that birding and bird banding are just about the closest thing you can get in real life to filling out the Pokédex.

Birds have the Goldilocks number of species, which makes them incredibly appealing to pursue, study, identify, and watch. Think about it! Mammals, while are certainly *~*~*charismatic*~*~*, are mostly nocturnal. There are also like 10 of them in the world (yes, that’s an undersell). Lame! Insects and other invertebrates are amazing, but there are too goddamn many for many laypeople to really get into (side note: my alternate field would probably be malacology because I love Mollusca). Fish have some good numbers and variety, but require getting into this whole aquatic sphere– a different world entirely and one that is not readily accessible to those of us who matured in NYC.

So there’s the numbers game and their incredible charisma at play here. Humans have trained their companion psittacids and cacatuids to speak, to understand; as intelligent social animals, we can feel a mysterious connection with birds in the same way that most humans feel an inherent connection with your typical charismatic megafauna, such as wolves and lions (*eyeroll*).

3. Birds are diverse.

Cassowaries are three-toed behemoths that can communicate in rumbling infrasound like elephants and kick a grown man to death. Woodcocks can see in 360 degrees without a single turn of the head. The booted racket-tail is a hummingbird about the size of a quarter with a tail three times its body length that goes torpid every night after its daily frenzy of foraging for nectar. The Chiroxiphia manakins coordinate sexual display in an incredible show of teamwork, after which only one male gets to mate. The bowerbirds build ornate structures that rival some human creations, and then dance and sing in front of them for a mate.

Albatross can maintain a pair bond for decades, and once their chicks fledge they may not touch solid ground for three years. Steller’s eiders from both North America and Russia winter together on the sea ice of the Bering Strait, where they fish for molluscs in the cold. Bar-headed geese fly over the Himalayas. Arctic terns breed as far north as the Arctic circle and winter all the way south in Antarctica, in the longest migration known to the animal kingdom. Martial eagles kill and eat small antelope by flying them up high and dropping them to the ground. Starlings and mimids can imitate hundreds of sounds. Numerous seabirds can go their entire life without a single drink of freshwater due to their advanced salt glands. 

…And so on. The breadth of the bird world is absolutely incredible. With roughly 10,000 species worldwide existing on every continent (something that cannot be boasted by many other taxonomic classes), birds have evolved to occupy so many amazing niches.

4. Birds matter.

Now, this isn’t to imply that other animals don’t matter! It is incredibly vital that we keep a steady stream of funding to all biological sciences,  but I must say that in my work with birds I have always felt that the research I’ve been doing plays its part in the greater scheme of things.

Birds are an easily seen indicator species; their high sensitivity can be informative about how the world at large is doing. As climate changes and anthropogenic disturbance increases, we can see bird populations shifting their range and phenology from year to year.

Since they are so prominent, birds have also been among the numerous species to face untimely extinction; take the story of the magnificent great auk, for example, which was rapidly hunted into oblivion due to its flightlessness and colonial breeding strategy. Carolina parakeet, passenger pigeon, Bachman’s warbler, ivory-billed woodpecker, Labrador duck: these are all species that used to be seen in North America that are nowhere to be found today. 

And it’s through some well-timed intervention spear-headed by biologists and conservationists that we have avoided the loss of other amazing bird species. The National Audubon Society keeps an egret in their logo, a nod to the birds that were almost destroyed in the hat trade. The Atlantic Puffin was completely extirpated from the Gulf of Maine until it was successfully reintroduced on Eastern Egg Rock. And remember the shitshow that was DDT? It was birds that let us know how much of a threat that pesticide was; brown pelicans, bald eagles, peregrine falcons, osprey, and more faced steep declines thanks to the substance.

These reasons just brush the surface of why birds are amazing– and yes, why I am constantly amazed by birds even though I look at them every day in my backyard or as part of my work. We haven’t even mentioned feathers, or vocalizationtheir incredible physiology, or the way they have inspired artists for centuries.

Getting into birds literally changed my life; it was a turning point for my career, for my mental health, and for my outlook on this incredible world that we live in. I want others to have similar realizations about the natural world! That’s why I run this blog, and that’s why I’ll never stop birding.

No Strings (IX)

.Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,940

Summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

Originally posted by gotmeolk

Keep reading

Spruce (Connor M. x Reader)

Anon- I havith a requstith!! all righty so the reader, jared, and connor go with evan to get his wisdom teeth out. so evan, being all loopy after the operation is in the car with the other three on the way home and starts talking to the reader in the backseat. so he’s like “hey *insert name here* you know my friend Connor? yeah well I’m not supposed to tell you this but he likes my friend y/n” and then everyone laughs and then like fluffy cute stuff (maybe a kiss) between Connor and the reader? Thank

Callout to @anotherstellarconversation for helping me out, bless u <3 (and go check them out please!!!!) Cries it’s been so long since this was sent, I’m sorry!! Regardless, I hope you enjoy <3,

Words – 1730

Warnings –  None (other than OOC characters)!

Evan just wanted to spend a day with his friends. He just wanted to sit down, maybe watch some movies, and just hang out. Instead, he is sitting in the back seat of Connor’s car, clinging onto Jared’s arm. The poor boy is shaking in his seat, and continuously toying with his shirt. He would occasionally run a hand through his hair, trying to get himself to calm down. It didn’t work.

“Evan, if you don’t let go I am going to lose my fucking arm.” Jared mumbled, shaking his arm.

“Wh-what? Am I really holding on that tightly?” Evan spluttered, quickly letting go of Jared’s arm.

“Jared, let him cling, he deserves it.” You say, turning in your seat to glare at Jared, who just rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” Jared said, holding out his arm. “Go nuts, Hansen. Just… Try not to cause a blood clot, alright? I kind of need my arm.”

Evan grasps Jared’s arm, grasping it not as tightly. He smiles at you and for moment, he seems a little less stressed. A little.

You turned your attention next to you, towards Connor. His window was down, which allowed his hair to flow freely, and occasionally fall in front of his face. His eyes were focused on the road, and his eyebrows would furrow in concentration (or maybe in slight irritation). To say that he was beautiful like this would be an understatement.

You fell for the boy hard. Even if everyone thought you were smitten for Evan, that was far from the truth. Sure, you might shamelessly flirt with the tree lover occasionally, but it was all in good fun. Evan knew this, and he was okay with it. You were even sure that Connor knew.

He didn’t.

And now you sit here, watching his hair flow, and his eyes reflecting the light of the sun.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you even paying attention?” A hand moved in front of your face and snapped.

You turn your head towards to back of the car, and look at Jared. “Sorry, what?”

Jared smirked and began snickering. “What? Were you staring at Mur-“

“What were you talking about, Jared?” You say, a bit stricter. Its best if Connor didn’t realize you were staring.

Jared kept a smug grin, but dropped the subject. “Right… What are we going to do after this? Should we stick Evan somewhere and see what he does?”

Evan froze up. “What- NO! No, please don’t do that.”

“What’s stopping us?” Jared said, his grin widening.

“I know where we could hide Evan if you really want to.” Connor added, glancing at the three of you.

You slap Connor’s shoulder. “Dude! Leave him alone! Besides, I’m sure that your places suck and are obvious as hell.”

“I could show you after Evan’s appointment-“

“You are not p-putting me anywhere! I just want to get this over with, please? And maybe we can all get ice cream or something?” Evan said, rubbing his arm.

“Alright, fine… We’re here anyways.” Jared mumbles.

Connor parked the car, and the four of you get out. Evan instantly grabbed you hand the moment you stepped next to him.

“Everything will be alright. We’ll be in the waiting room when you get back.” You said, gently squeezing Evan’s hand.

You gently lead Evan into the doctor’s office, looking back at the other two to make sure they were following.

Jared looked entertained, while Connor seemed agitated. Maybe he was just tired.

-

While the three of you sat and waited, you rested your head on Connor’s shoulder.

“If you weren’t so bony, you would be the best arm rest.” You grumbled, poking Connor’s cheek.

He flinched slightly and looked over at you. “Why not lean up against meme boy over there then?”

“Because he’s lame and won’t let me do that?”

Jared looked at you. “Who said I wouldn’t?”

“Would you?”

“Oh hell no.”

It seemed like hours before the three of you could enter the room that Evan was located. By that time, you fell asleep on Connor’s shoulder, and clung to his arm.

Connor looked down at you. Your hair was pushed around, and your mouth was slightly agape. He wasn’t sure if you were drooling on him or not, but your gentle snores were adorable.

Jared looked over at the two of you, and carefully took out his phone, taking a photo. “Wow, you are even more stalker like than L/N.”

Connor only glared at Jared, turning his attention back to you.

A lady opened the waiting room door, and peaked her head in. “You three are here for Mr. Hansen, yes? Everything is done now, you can come in.”

Jared stood up and glanced over at the two. “C’mon losers.”

Connor glanced over at you, and gently moved his shoulder. “Hey, wake up. Hansen is done having his teeth ripped out.”

You groaned slightly, and opened your eyes. “Please tell me Jared isn’t in there.”

Connor doesn’t respond.

You instantly stand up. “Alright, I am up.” You grabbed Connor’s hand, pulled him up, and tugged him towards the door. “Come on, Connor.”

Huffing, Connor stood up and followed you. “Stop pulling on my arm, and maybe I’ll follow you.” He didn’t let go of your hand.

When you walked inside the room where Evan was seated, Jared was near tears.

“H-holy shit… Dude, are you okay?”

Evan slowly looked up at the three of you. The way his eyes were narrowed made it seem like he was concentrating on something. Not only that, but he just kept mumbling something over and over again.

“Evan, dude, you alright?” Connor asks, raising his eyebrow.

“…Hey… I think… I think I died… What… What the hell are you guys?” Evan muttered, and looked quizzically at the three of you.

You just stared at him. “Evan, do want some nuggets?”

Evan looked up at you and smiled. “Hell yeah, Spruce.”

Jared almost pissed himself.

The four of you sat in Connor’s car. However, Jared decided it would be a great idea if he drove (he does not trust Connor’s driving, even if he did drive all of you to the dentist), and Evan sat in the passenger seat. This would then leave you and Connor in the backseat, kicking the other’s seats.

“Hey… Spruce! How… How did I die? Am I part tree? Wh-wh… What if I didn’t die, but you died. Maybe you – or the fluffy dude – are all a fragment of my imagination. Maybe none of us are real.”

Jared glanced over at Evan. “Hansen getting deep. Never do this shit ever again, thanks.”

You just smiled and gently pat Evan’s head. “Then you are a super cool fragment.”

“Super shitty.” Connor mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Evan just continues to smile for a few more minutes. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he gently gasped.

“Spruce! I… I have a secret!

You laughed and tilted your head. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Okay, so you know my friend, Connor?”

At the sound of his named, Connor instantly snapped his attention towards Evan. “What the fuck are you-“

Evan interrupts him. “Shh! Spruce won’t tell! Anyways, I have a friend, Y/N! They are also Connor’s friend, and Jared’s!”

“Oh, I like where this is going. Go on, Evan, please inform Spruce.” Jared urges, a wide grin began to form.

“Evan, shut the fuck up.” Connor said as his eyes began to narrow.

“Spruce, this is top secret okay? Do not tell anyone!” Evan whispered, a sly smile began to form.

You nodded. “I, Spruce, will not tell anyone this ‘secret’”.

By this time, Connor was beginning to suspect what Evan was going to say. You, however, had no idea what Evan was going to say. You were hoping that maybe you would be able to get some dirt on Jared or Connor, and be able to blackmail them later. Hell, you’ll take anything as long as you can blackmail one of them.

Evan slowly leans in closer to where you are, and Connor just watches, hoping that Evan is smart enough to not say shit.

“Look… My friend, Connor, really likes Y/N! But, you can’t tell them! Connor will be an angry bean pole.” Evan laughed at the end of his sentence, and looked over at Connor.

You froze.

Jared laughed.

“Evan. What the fuck.” Connor hissed, nervously glancing between you and Evan.

Evan just smiled. “Spruce won’t tell Y/N!”

“Spruce won’t have to tell Y/N, Evan. You did the deed for them.” Jared said between laughs.

You looked over at Connor, and he didn’t meet your gaze. Instead, he opted to turning nearly his entire body away from you. His hair was pushed in front of his face, and he made damn sure that Evan could see him glaring.

Evan sits there, confused about the situation, but Jared distracted him. Which left you ‘alone’ with Connor.

You couldn’t help yourself, you just began to laugh. You tried to hide it, but it just wanted to fall from your lips. The moment he heard this, Connor tensed up.

He thought you were laughing at him, and how could he possibly think that he has a chance with you?

The moment your laughter died down, you gently brushed some of Connor’s away from his face, causing him to flinch. His entire face was burning, including the tip of his ears. He looked utterly adorable.

What?” He hisses, a bit harsher than he meant to.

You smile falters slightly, but instead of saying anything, you gently press a kiss to his cheek.

“You are super cute, y’know that?” You murmur nonchalantly.

This completely caught Connor off guard. “Wh-what the hell are you talking about.”

“And you’re stuttering? Who are you, and what have you done with Connor Murphy? Is this Connor Murphy going to ask me out or do I have to ask him out?”

At this point, he is just staring at you, a very small smile gently tugging at his lips. Connor gently cups your cheek, hand shaking. He has never done anything like this before. What the hell is he even doing?

You just smiled and tapped Connor’s nose. “We can go hang out at McDonald’s or something tomorrow, yeah?”

Connor nodded slightly, and gently pressed a kiss to your lips. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Spruce, why are you kissing Connor?”

Paper Hearts

A stupidly fluffy SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Valentine’s Celebration


Simon

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Meet me in Room 172.

           I refold the note, noticing how the paper has already settled into well-known creases since this morning.  It’s not the first anonymous note I’ve gotten over the past week, but it’s the first time the writer has made a move beyond waxing poetic.

           The Watford halls are sickening today, even to me.  I understand the appeal of decorating for Christmas, but Valentine’s Day?  It just seems a little patronizing to adorn the walls in that many paper hearts, whether the hearts can magically float around people’s heads or not.  And it’s not that I’m a cynic, but Valentine’s Day this year was set to be a difficult one for me, since I no longer have Agatha to dote upon.

           But as I slip the little creased note back into my pocket and make for Room 172, the paper hearts seem less mocking and my own beating heart feels just a bit lighter.

           When I reach the door I falter, doubts rushing to my head.  What if there’s no one there?  And what if there is?  Then what?

           But I turn the knob and shove open the door.

           And immediately I see who’s waiting and I hate the thrill that bolts through me, and I wish that I had turned back.

           Baz’s face goes red when he sees me and I wonder briefly if I’ve seen him this angry before, so enraged that he turns colour.

           “What,” he seethes, “are you doing here?”

           “What am I doing here?” I spit back, my heart sinking and racing at once.  “What are you doing here?”

           “None of your business,” he growls, sitting on one of the desks and pointedly looking anywhere but at me.

           Everything in me is boiling.  I’m angry and I’m disappointed at once, but I puff up my pride and stalk over to another desk and sit down to wait.  Maybe the fates will be on my side for once and the mystery writer will reveal themselves yet.

           Although, would that be the fates with me or against me?  Because everything right now is looking like Baz wrote the note, and sitting here in the empty classroom full of paper hearts with him just a few desks away, it’s getting harder to ignore the buzzing under my skin and harder to ignore the fact that he is the common denominator.

           The clock ticks away like a drumbeat and I stare at the door, hoping, praying for something to happen.

           “Why are you here?”

           I throw a glance over at Baz, who has turned his head so that he can see me without looking at me.  “If you must know,” I reply sharply, “I’m waiting for someone.”

           “Really?”

           “You think I’m lying?”

           “I think you’re pathetic.”

           I have to squeeze my eyes shut and count to ten like Penny told me before I can breathe evenly again.  “What’s your excuse, Basil?” I grit through my teeth. “Why do you have to be here?  Has no one invited you across the threshold?” It’s a lame dig, but I know it will be effective, whether he shows it or not.  If there’s anything I’ve learned from being his enemy it’s that vampire jokes are a no-no.

           “I told you, it’s none of your business.”

           “Can’t you take your business elsewhere, then?”

           “No.”

           “Arse.”

           “Prat.”

           When I turn to throw another insult at him, the sun through the window catches the side of his face and turns his eyes to silver… and the insult dies in my throat.

           Beautiful.

           I try to stomp on the thought.  No.

           But it’s too late.  

           It’s there.  It’s taken root.

           And the longer I look at him the more it flowers.

           Another thought bubbles up to the surface almost tentatively.  Are you sure it wasn’t him?

           As much as I know I should try to extinguish that notion along with the previous, I let it linger.  If I think back on it, I don’t think I ever have seen him angry enough to turn red.

           So maybe he’s not angry.  

           Maybe it’s something else.

           When he meets my eye, I’m still staring at him, and his gaze darts away again, but his cheeks.

           They go pink, and there’s no anger in his eyes.  Only uncertainty.

           His silver eyes.

           And all at once, I decide to change everything.

Baz

“Alright, Baz,” comes Simon’s soft voice, “you can drop the act.”

           I turn to look at him again, and it’s like looking at the sun because I can feel his image scorching onto my retinas.  Meeting Simon Snow’s gaze is something that can only be done in doses, for me at least, I don’t know why.

           Well, I know why, but I can’t logically explain it.

           “Act?” I repeat dumbly.

           He slides off the desk and takes a slow step in my direction, and even that is enough to set my heart hammering.  “Yes,” he says, “act.”

           “I don’t know what -”

           “I think you do,” he interrupts me, “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He pauses for a breath, like he’s second-guessing himself, but then he meets my eyes again.  “I think you wrote the notes.”

           My brain screeches to a halt and nothing makes sense.  “Notes,” I reply, and I hate myself because the boy I’m head-over-heels for is actually not at my throat and I sound like a parrot.

           He seems to get a burst of confidence.  “It’s okay, Baz,” he goes on, still slowly advancing, “I don’t mind, but you could have just said something.”

           I have nowhere to go.  I want to leap up from my spot and run, but I can’t.  Even in all this, my pride wins.  I’m on a desk in the middle of an empty classroom, and I’m cornered.  “Said something,” I stammer, “about what?”

           He shrugs, right in front of me now.  “Anything from any of the notes, which were unbelievably mushy, by the way. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

           “Hang on,” I stop him, unable to keep from shrinking back.  “You’ve been getting notes?”

           “All week,” he grins, “though I didn’t realize it was you until I got here.  I have to say, that last one was weak poetry. I mean, ‘roses are red, violets are blue’?”

           Something in my brain clicks and I swear I hear a ding.  “‘Meet me in Room 172’,” I finish with a sinking feeling.

           His face lights up like all the stars in the sky are in his eyes.  “I knew it was you,” he murmurs, and – Crowley – his gaze flickers to my mouth, no more than a foot away.

           And I want it.  I want to keep quiet and let him close the distance.  Hell, I want to do it myself.

           But I reach into my pocket and pull out the scrap of paper from inside.  “Then I hate to tell you this, Snow,” I say quietly, my heart breaking, “but I didn’t do it.”

           He looks away from my eyes for the first time and his brow scrunches up when he sees the note in my hand.  He takes it from me and unfolds it, his eyes scanning over the words again and again, the same little three-line poem.  I watch as he checks his pockets, finding an identical note in his jeans, and the penny drops.

           “It wasn’t you,” he says, almost to himself, and his face falls.

           “I’ve been getting anonymous notes all week, too,” I confess.  “It’s a trick on both of us.”

           His hands are shaking.  “Why would anyone do this?” he asks quietly, his face reddening, and I can’t tell whether it’s with embarrassment or anger or sadness, or all of the above.

           “I don’t know,” I stand at last and saunter over to lean against the wall, grateful for some air that isn’t charged with proximity.  “People are dicks, I guess.”

           “And you swear that you had nothing to do with it?”  He won’t look at me at all now.

           “I swear.”

           He squeezes his eyes shut and I half expect tears to appear on his cheeks, but he just nods once and turns to march towards the door.

           An image flashes through my brain, of his eyes boring into mine, of how they flickered down to my flustered mouth.

           And suddenly I decide that I’ve had enough of this.

           “Simon.”

           He stops dead in his tracks.  “What?” he says without looking at me.

           “I’m sorry.”

           “What for?  You said you didn’t do anything.”  His voice sounds sore, like he is fighting tears after all.

           “I’m sorry that you thought it was me,” I tell him, “because…” I trail off, unsure how to finish.

           “Because what?”

           I wish he would look at me.  “I hate to ask, but did you mean any of that?”

           “About not minding if it was you?”  He sighs like he’s given up.  “Yes. I meant all of it.”

           He meant all of it.  From the words to the glance at my lips.  All of it.

           He shoots me a red-faced glare at my silence.  “Happy?”

           I stare back, and I can feel a big stupid grin bubbling up.  “Yes, actually.”

           That catches him off-guard.  “Why?”

           “Because I wouldn’t mind if it was you, either,” I blurt out before I can lose my nerve.

           His eyebrows finally un-furrow and he meets my eyes properly.  I know that I’m turning pink again, but as he starts to step towards me, I hold his gaze.

           When he’s right in front of me again, close enough that I have to look down to see him, he whispers “You mean…”

           One of the paper hearts littering the room suddenly jumps up off a desk, and I don’t know if they’ve been charmed to target fools in love or not, but it starts to dance around my head.

           Simon chuckles at the heart.  “Is that a yes?”

           I allow myself a tempered version of the big stupid grin.  “You could say that.”

           The heart swoops in front of my eyes, and I lazily wave it away.

           Simon stands on tiptoe and plucks the heart from the air by my eyes, and we’re no further than a breath apart.

           And then he leans in the rest of the way.

Agatha

Penny squeezes my hand hard when they finally fall together, and I squeeze back.  Stealthily she snaps a silent photo on her phone, and I make a mental note to get her to send it to me later.  The fruits of our labours.

           We step back from the open door of Room 172 as quietly as we can, but I doubt we need to worry.  Simon and Baz are both far too occupied to notice us.

           Penny keeps hold of my hand as we make a break for it, waiting until we’re around several corners before speaking.

           “Damn,” she grins at me, “we are good.”

           All I can do is grin back, still holding her hand as we stroll down the hallway, kicking up clouds of red paper hearts.

paperweight | pcy

Originally posted by porkdo-bi

park chanyeol. reader-insert. 5,2k words. fluff/angst. au

—it couldn’t hold onto those letters forever. Neither could he hold onto her.

this one is for Liv @xiuminsm

Dear Chanyeol, 

I’m not quite sure whether to classify you as dumb or cute. Seriously, Park Chanyeol? You sent a ring along with a letter with the words “will you marry me?”and a doodle of yourself kneeling, I can’t believe you!

Oh, and PS: Yes, I will.

Love, ____.


Keep reading

Pie?

Summary: After a hunt, you can never sleep. Neither can Dean. While you and him get drunk in the kitchen, you offer to bake him a pie, and things get messy?

hahah rip my summary skills

Request: Hi there! Could you maybe do a story where the reader shows Dean her pie baking skills and he just can’t get over her perfection? It could be as fluffy or smutty as you see fit, of course :)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Smut, language

Word Count: 2.4k

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual


It was the night after a hunt; you, Sam, and Dean had just gotten home a little over an hour ago. You’d pretty much went your separate ways for the night as it was almost eleven. You scrubbed your face before you threw on some pyjamas and laid down. You were sure everyone else would be passed out by now, but not you. You tossed and turned, the leftover adrenaline from the hunt keeping you awake. This happened after most hunts, you wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, or the night after. You’d almost always have at least one nightmare, so that kept you awake as well.

After tossing and turning for almost an hour, you decided to get up and take a shower. The clock on your nightstand read midnight as you grabbed some clean clothes and a towel. You made your way down the hallway to the bathroom and started the water, throwing your clothes and towel down on the floor. While you waited for the water to warm up you left the bathroom and went into the kitchen to grab a beer, trying to stay quiet so you didn’t wake the boys. You tossed the cap in the trash can and headed back to the bathroom.

When you got out of the shower you’d realized that you’d forgotten clean panties. That or they fell out somewhere along the way. You wrapped the towel around yourself and opened the bathroom door, looking to the right first, then left. To your left, you were surprised by Dean, who was holding your panties while also wearing a bright red face.

“I uh- I think you dropped these.” He tossed them at you before turning around and walking back the other way.

“Thanks?” you said, probably to quiet for him to hear as he walked away. But damn did he look good in his boxers and t-shirt. You smiled to yourself before closing the door to get dressed.

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@bitchycollectionfury-78be5e8b here ya go, thanks, this was fun to write ^-^ nice to write about people being dumber than you are to make yourself feel better

-

McCree was…

He was…

Well, he was definitely not panicking, that was what he was not doing, because Jesse McCree was one cool customer that could take things as they came and laugh it off.  He’d survived the foster care system and his weird adopted father and his overly intense adopted sister.  He’d survived losing his damn arm, alright, and everything that went down that made it necessary to bundle a young Jesse up and whisk him away to the houses of strangers rather than leave him at home.  And by the end, he’d survived everyone that had thought they could make judgment calls about him without even trying to get to know him, every teacher that had shaken their head and decided some idiots couldn’t be helped, every classmate that had turned their nose up at his accent – a vestigial limb left over from a childhood in the south – or his manner of dress or his sense of humour.  After all, it hadn’t been as bad as all that.  He’d wound up with a great family (he’d die for Gabe and Sombra), and plenty of friends.  He’d learnt to let people go.  Some people just would never see past his shaggy hair or his loud mouth or the cowboy hat he refused to “grow out of”.  Fuck ‘em, that’s what Jesse had learnt.  Shrug your shoulders, turn your back, and go find people that matter.  There had been a time when he couldn’t do that.  There was a time when he’d been living back with his birth family that every disappointed look the teacher had sent him when he’d acted out in class had been like a slap and every report card returned home had been… well, not just like a slap.  There’d been a time when he’d hated everything about Gabriel Reyes, but mostly the fact that he was forcing him to confront a brand new school with people that stared and laughed and huddled among themselves in the cliques they’d formed years back, no space for a new, pushy, desperately loud kid.

Then things had changed.  Then he’d made friends, real friends, and found out what people could be like – what he could be like.  And suddenly the people turning their nose up didn’t matter any more.

R-ight.

And so that was why, as Jesse McCree sat in school library across from Hanzo Shimada, he definitely was not panicking at all.

Even if Hanzo Shimada was hot as sin, with long, dark hair cascading down his back, the most intense eyes Jesse has ever seen, and holy fuck those biceps.

The guy did archery apparently.  Archery. Who the fuck did archery unless they were preparing to run off in some goddamn fantasy movie?  Jesse had never even really given archery much thought as a thing people did – it only really existed in historical documentaries and the Olympics – but now when it was nearly thirty degrees outside and Hanzo Shimada was sitting two feet away from him in a tank top, Jesse was really, really thinking about archery.  And how it must take a lot of strength to constantly be drawing and holding a tense bowstring if you wanted to aim with any degree of accuracy.  And how that sort of strength made it look like your arms and shoulders had been carved from fucking marble.  Especially when one of said statuesque arms had a sleeve of vibrant, blue tattoos running all the way down it.  Jesse could get lost in a bicep like that, with or without blue dragons staring back at him, but the dragons definitely didn’t hurt.

The thing was though, it wasn’t just that.  Jesse had met hot kids before that were out of his league and it generally didn’t really trouble him.  Whatever, laugh it off, move on.  No, of course it had to be more complicated than that.  When Jesse had first entered this class he’d wound his way through the filling seats until he’d found himself sitting next to a boy whose name he would learn was Hanzo.  Jesse had then immediately had his smile met by a flat stare, and he’d figured, oh well, here was an uninteresting asshole.  A hot one, maybe, but an asshole all the same.  It hadn’t seemed important at the time because he’d already turned to the person on his other side – a girl named Angela who apparently wanted to be a doctor (or a researcher…? Something like that, which involved more of the human body than Jesse wanted to think aobut).  She was friendly and laughed easily.

Everything would have been so much easier if Hanzo had just stayed an asshole. The guy was quiet, sure, but Jesse sat elbow-to-elbow with him three times a week and he slowly began to realize that underneath the prickly, don’t-look-at-me-don’t-speak-to-me aura the guy projected, there was something far sweeter down there.  The guy chuckled at every single one of the prof’s bad jokes and Dr Winston had a lot of them, and they were always nonchalantly that most of the class didn’t realize they’d happened… heck, Jesse usually didn’t realize they’d happened until he heard a soft snort next to him.

(And yes, it was a snort. Absolutely and completely undignified and it made Jesse stare at Hanzo until he’d been glared back into submission by the man, who’d seemed flustered that someone had heard him.  How do you tell a guy that may or may not hate your guts just for existed that you thought his silly snort-laugh was cute?  The answer was you did not do that and focused back on your own notes if you value your life.)

As for Hanzo’s notes, well, they were painfully neat and precise.  But amid the sharp ballpoint and careful diagrams, Hanzo Shimada apparently had a habit of making snide details about the lessons in the margins (Jesse knew this because it was a two hour long lecture and sometimes watching your neighbour writes notes out of the corner of your eye was better than trying to listen to a prof drone on at the front of the class for another hour and a half).  It made Jesse start fantasizing about taking out his own pen and writing a little comment in the corner of Hanzo’s page.  Made him think about getting into some sort of stupid note-passing conversation with him like they were eight year olds rather than college kids.  Made him think about getting to have all those weird, witty little comments directed at him, and then seeing where the conversation took them.  (And, occasionally, it made him think about continuing that conversation out of class, possibly down towards a pub he knew for a chat and maybe, oh just maybe, a date.)

Jesse, however, did not dare try – to write the note, that is, entertaining anything else would have been madness.  Hanzo looked like the sort of person that might try to tear your head off if you messed up his notebooks.

Then, just to top it all off, during their lecture breaks, Hanzo often got calls from what Jesse could only assume was a brother.  And, against every expectation, Hanzo Shimada was sweet. Well, still a bit of a deadpan asshole, but no one who’s a hundred percent bad uses his ten minutes of free time to talk with his brother every single day.

“Don’t look at me, I am not playing wing-man for you in a class I need to ace if I wanna keep my GPA up,” Angela had said.  Jesse had pouted at that – he hadn’t even gotten a chance to ask her, had just glanced at her with maybe a slightly-too-hopeful gleam in his eye during one of the breaks Hanzo had left the room to talk with his brother.

And then the fateful day of the class project had arrived.  Winston had told them just to group up with someone sitting beside them rather than running piecemeal through the class.  Jesse had, of course, turned to Angela only to find she had turned around in her seat and was quickly making plans to team up with a girl sitting behind them named Mei.

Frantically Jesse had spun around, but everyone else was making groups with the people to their left or right who they had been getting to know since day one.  With Angela breaking the system, that meant he had only one person left sitting next to him.

Hanzo Shimada was watching him with an unimpressed face and an eye brow raised.

Traitor, he mouthed at Angela.

You’re welcome, mouthed Angela, the Stealth Wing-man.

And so here Jesse was, sitting in the library with someone who presumably hated his guts and thought he was – what, loud? Obnoxious? Lame? – but who Jesse still pathetically, wistfully wanted to impress.  Life, sometimes, was enormous unfair.  At this point Hanzo hadn’t even given Jesse the time of day, he’d been sitting at one of the study tables since before Jesse had arrived, nose an inch from his phone as he texted someone.  Presumably someone cooler than Jesse McCree.

Jesse wanted to groan.  Or shove his pencil in his eye just so he could get out of this project.  Instead he mechanically started pulling out his books and waited for Hanzo to be ready to start on the project with him.

-

Hanzo Shimada:

WELL??

Obnoxious Little Brother:
oy give me a sec some of us are still in class and don’t want our phone to be taken away
again
besides i’m trying to tell zen about how i, the lowly highschooler, am helping my university-bound brother pick up boys

Hanzo Shimada:
Don’t you DARE

Obnoxious Little Brother:
too late
he wishes you luck by the way and says he has complete faith in you
goes to show which one of us  knows you better eh? not him!

Hanzo scowled down at his phone before he gaze flickered briefly up to the person who had sat across from him.  He’d been painfully aware of Jesse McCree since McCree had arrived in the library and pulled back the chair with a scrape that had made the hairs on the back of Hanzo’s neck stand on end.  So far McCree had made no acknowledgment that there was another person at this table, another person he was going to be forced to work along side for the next two weeks.

Hanzo didn’t know whether Zenyatta had faith in him or if Genji had just been trying to wind him up, but Hanzo certainly did not have faith in himself, not about this.  He had never been good at… people. He made, in Genji’s words, “seriously just the worst first impressions.  Like wow.  So bad,” which just wasn’t fair because when it came to a professional setting, when it was about work or networking, he was fine.  He could move effortlessly through the crowds, introduce himself, chat, plan, negotiate.  He’d been dogging his father’s footsteps since it had been decided he would one day take over the family business and he was a devoted student.  But as soon as it was real people in real life Hanzo may as well be carved out of wood; somehow he always managed to put his foot in his mouth.  Which was why he had fallen so low as to turn to his baby brother for advice, because at least Genji, if nothing else could be said about him, was good with people.

Too good with people, if you asked their father.  Genji was a social butterfly who wasn’t so much a butterfly as a housefly, flitting about around everywhere and getting where at lot of people would probably wish he wasn’t and really not caring who he chatted with or what they thought about him.

Obnoxious Little Brother:
look, just don’t do the Hanzo Special and you should be fine

Hanzo Shimada:
Excuse me??

Obnoxious Little Brother:
u kno, your patented Grunt & Growl technique
don’t do that and assume other people can actually understand you bc they can’t

Hanzo wanted to snap back that he did not grunt or growl, thank you, he was a mature adult unlike Genji, but he found his fingers hesitating on the keys.  Frantically he scanned his memory to figure out if he had grunted or growled at Jesse McCree.

God help him he probably had.  He had almost certainly stared stupidly at him.

McCree… glowed, though, and Hanzo wasn’t sure what to do with that.  He spoke so easily.  All it had taken was one glance from McCree on the first day of class for him to apparently decide that Hanzo was a lost cause.  Before Hanzo had managed to scrounge up a single coherent, reasonable thing to say to the sunshine bright, smiling boy who’d sat down next to him, said boy had turned his attentions to the much more receptive form of Angela Ziegler, the girl sitting to his right.

McCree was loud and raucous and ridiculous and he wore the stupidest hat Hanzo had ever seen but god help him he wanted to see McCree smile at him, rather than catch glimpse of it from the corner of his eye while he laughed with someone else.  He wanted to have McCree attention at some point other than when he’d made a fool of himself with his ugly laugh or by seeing McCree stare judgmentally at his notes.

Obnoxious Little Brother:
at the risk of sounding too much like a disney movie have you tried just…. being yourself???
(this was zen’s suggestion btw i’m personally pretty sure being someone other than yourself would be a step in the right direction but you never know maybe disney knows whats up)

Hanzo thought about what McCree had looked like when they had been forced to choose partners.  He had wanted to be anywhere than with Hanzo. The look he had shot Ziegler when she had found a different partner… the helpless, defeated look when he had accepted that the only person nearby not taken was Hanzo.

No, being himself was definitely not going to help him here.

Hanzo Shimada:
Never mind I’ll figure it out

What he was going to do was pretend that Jesse McCree was just some other random student, keep his head down, get this project done with the least amount of fuss, and move on to his next set of class next semester and hopefully forget that McCree existed.

“Shall we get started?” he asked briskly, pocketing his phone and pulling out his own book.

McCree’s face was despondent and it sat like a stone in Hanzo’s gut.  He would rather be anywhere than here.

“Might as well,” said McCree.

Catch Me (Day 6)

Summary: In which a bet leads Bucky to have to catch you every day for a week, no matter what.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,562

Thank you to @avengerstories for editing this. You’re an absolute queen.

Day 5

Originally posted by nadinpu

“Hey Y/N,” Steve greets after knocking softly on your door. He’s wearing a pair of black basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. It’s a stark difference from the uniform he wears during missions. “I’m going on a hike to -”

“Yes.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yes? You want to come?”

“That I do, Cap.”

He laughs. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to say yes.”

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Welcome Home - Part 1

Originally posted by ghostthinxx

Request: (by anon) Hello! I love your writing, you’re one of my favorite writers on Tumblr. :) I was wondering if you could do a Winn Schott imagine, where after the crossover or whatever you go back to Earth 38 with Kara and you end up falling in love with Winn? Like a lot of flirting and cute moments where Winn gets all flustered? Thanks! :D <3

Pairing: Winn Schott x Reader feat. Kara, Alex, J’onn, Oliver, and Barry

Warnings: None

Words: 2807

A/N: So, I loved this prompt so much that I decided to make it a series. And if you’re wondering what her costume looks like, I made that too. Sorry this isn’t as flirty/flustery as I meant it to be. Maybe I’ll do better in part 2.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Dominators were defeated, the presidential honors were given, the celebratory party was winding down, and Earth-1 was saved. The only thing left to do was to say your goodbyes and go your separate ways.

Over the last few days, you had become good friends with Supergirl, or Kara Danvers as it was. At the party, she had mentioned how on her Earth it was just her and her cousin defending the planet and how nice it was to have a team. You couldn’t have agreed more. It would be nice to fight crime with others like Team Arrow or the Legends. It would even be nice to have a support group like Team Flash, even if you were the only one in the field.  But you had no one. No friends, no family, no one to rely on other than yourself.

Knowing this, Kara invited you to come back to her world to fight alongside her. Earth-1 had plenty of protectors and you had no reason to stay, so you quickly jumped at the opportunity.

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Lashton Threesome::: Lessons

Pairing: Ashton, Luke, and Y/N

Word Count: 5.9k+

Rating: So. Much. Smut.

Requested:It was indeed

Guys…I apologize for what this may do to your body.

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game grumps ask meme.

“Dude, just… just pity laugh, at least!”
“I don’t wanna kill anybody, I’m a pacifist. Ooops, killed six people.”
“Six is the number of Def Leppard members, almost.”
“Did you know I’m a professional joke? My life is a joke.”
“Why do you enjoy watching me suffer so?”
“Remember kids, if you wanna defeat the evil power, you better fucking find the nearest sharpest sword and run as fast as you can.”
“I don’t judge you when you steal children, so I’ll thank you to show me that same courtesy.”
“Having a great time being in immeasurable pain.”
“Yes, have you ever heard of brapnel? That’s baby shrapnel.”
“Wait, mechanical bird is plane. I just realized.”
“Crazy how dead you are, I mean like, wow.”
“I didn’t have any problem at all after I died twice.”
“Such a nice man we ripped off there.”
“I’ll never put on pants.”
“Checkers would be better with badgers.”
“HEY LADIES. I’M TOM JONES. LEADER OF THE TOM JONES CULT. MY NAME’S TOM JONES. GIMME THIRTY APPLES. …TWENTY-FIVE APPLES”
“She’s adorable! Until she turns into a hideous undead monster creature, then ya gotta hit her with the lead pipe.”
“Stop dancing at me!”
“I have some very important masturbating to do.”
“You make me have to pee, always.”
“Whales are just Earth’s way of taking a shit.”
“I like it when Luigi’s happy. It makes me smile.”
“You know when you get high, and you start floating five feet off the ground, and gain a Spanish accent?”
“Whenever you talk about being high, it always just shows how much you’ve clearly never gotten high before.”
“Dude, what if hell was up?!”
“I will raise that chicken as if it were my own daughter… who I turned into chicken fingers.”
“‘Becky with the good hair’ sounds too much like ‘caramel corn’?”
“I! WANT! MURDER!”
“Even 90s rock won’t make me feel good about this!”
“This might be the drugs talking, but I love drugs.”
“That’s one boopity you shouldn’t have shmoopled.”
“Am I nude right now?”
“It’d be weird to sleep amongst your dead friends.”
“Are you here to repent for your chins?”
“Why am I not eating ice cream for every meal?”
“This taxi is bae.”
“The world is full of magic. Horrible, horrible magic.”
“Jesus is my drug.”
“I don’t know anything about memes.”
“You would say that, no matter what, me from another dimension that runs a porn ring.”
“I’m a milk-based life form.”
“I fucked a cantaloupe once.”
“Awww babe, look at us, we have our own cam girl operation.”
“Everyone who works for us gradually becomes more gay in their interactions because… we are always getting… weirdly gay with each other.”
“Shut up, ya tweezer!”
“And Half-Life 3, I don’t know anything about Half-Life 3, other than that everyone says it’s confirmed.”
“Good thing you’ve got fingers and wrists of steel, from that straight jacking.”
“I’ve learned the importance of being cuddled.”
“Hi, I’m a musician with a huge penis. Do you know where I can find guitars and Magnum condoms?”
“Baths are amazing, especially when you bring a friend.”
“Jesus, you gotta wine and dine me first. You can’t just open up with that shit.”
“We’ve broken several laws.”
“What, you wanna try diplomacy? He’s a fucking crab!”
“I’M READY TO BREED!”
“‘Bonfire’ is made up of two words: ‘bonf’ and ‘ire.’”
“These balls are coming at me fast and furious. It’s like that movie, ‘Speed.’”
“As I was about to say, revenge is a dish best served fuck you.”
“When someone says ‘just fuck me up’ on the internet that means have sex with me in a rough, passionate manner, correct?”
“If there’s one thing I can be totally honest about, it’s that I would happily lie to your face.”
“Just get abducted! We are your saviors, we’re flying in the sky- treat us as your new gods.”
“If I can’t be the best, I sure as hell can be the worst!”
“Water is just… air juice.”
“Uh… Doctor, could you put tits on my thumbs?”
“We hang out… we touch each other…”
“Does anyone have a paper bag I can hyperventilate into?”
“2016 is the year of the butt.”
“If I took pole-dancing, I would be worried that it would be too erotic for everybody else.”
“You make another joke like that, and I’m gonna have to beat you to death with your own shoes.”
“Whoa, look at this trapezoid-headed Funyon ring!”
“I have to take off my jacket because I’m getting hot because this sucks so bad.”
“He died as he lived: covered in mayonnaise.”
“Who wears pants anymore? So 2015.”
“What took you so long, you butt plug?!”
“Look, you tell a couple jokes as a dad and suddenly everyone’s like ‘you’re making dad jokes.’”
“Could you imagine if you unlocked outfits in real life? Like, “Congratulations you wiped your ass, here’s a new shirt.””
“As long as I live, I will never stop loving your random bursts of outrage.”
“Like I would kill a friend… without watching.”
“With your Phd and my also being here, we can solve any problem.”
“I love watching you guys suffer.”
“Man, the void of nothingness is kinda lame.”
“Sometimes you gotta take time and smell the roses. And sometimes you’re gonna be a guy jacking yourself off while you’re rubbing a girl in a video game.”
“I can’t prove that someone ISN’T a reptilian.”
“Oh my god, do we have to kill him while he’s asleep?”
“I feel dead inside, but at least I had pie.”
“This is nice. We’re all bathing in the warm glow of murder.”
“The tears are bittersweet but the pie is delicious.”
“Murder is a spectator sport.”
“Today’s been a day. A day full of tasty, tasty murder.”
“Man, I wish anime was human history.”
“99 red balloons… Something- something- German song.”
“If you wanna have sex you don’t have to make a little song about it, like just come right out and ask.”
“If only I could have sex with my own brain. That would be a mind-fuck.”
“I am not nature. I am nurture.”
“Wouldn’t it be hilarious if they died?”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do to me.”
“Taco Bell cures diabetes.”
“Rule number one of babysitting? DON’T STEP ON THE BABY!”
“Play for my amusement, child.”
“How does a ghost enter a skeleton? And I don’t mean that in a sexy way.”
“You’re locked the closet with the dildo!”
“Yeah, I’ve been drunk on pot before. What of it?”
“You are the worst son ever.”
“Shut up, this is my moment of time shine!”
“Bro, can I be honest with you guys right now? I love defiling things.”
“I wanna touch everything with my boner, including my boner!”
“When you’re married, you can announce your boners everywhere.”
“I am enjoying my pot! Take that out of context.”
“Dude, what if you were next to a supernova when it supernovaed?”
“…and she’s like COVERED in butter.”
“I do apologize for my actions, even though they were totally and completely justified.”
“What are the animals crossing, exactly?”
“I’m a firm believer in ‘if you’re going to fail, you might as well fail spectacularly.’”
“And you know what? We’re tied right now, like brothers… only one brother is significantly smarter and more handsome than the other and has like 15 years more life experience.”
“Frick to the 30th power!”
“My eyebrows are slippery and slimy. I grease them.”
“This is literally just elementary hydrodynamics, I can’t believe you can’t grasp this.”
“Well look the important thing that I’m having fun and other people aren’t.”
“I would fuck everything on the screen including the animals and the bicycle.”
“How dare you know stuff about things. I’m gonna beat you up with my fists… that are made of stuff and things.”
“Spyyyder Loops™ cereal…. made with… spiders.”
“I’m a bottom kind of guy.”
“Can you see my labia in this fucking costume?”
“Just bros bein’ bros…”
“I never feel quite as alone as I do when I play Burger Time.”
“If you do this… I’m gonna be mildly impressed with you.”
“I don’t know how to be interesting, could you give me advice?”
“I BIRTHED YOU FROM MY BRAIN VAGINA.”
“I’m kind of amazing at everything I do.”
“I’LL FUCKING STAB YOUR PARENTS!”
“I would get a photo-realistic tattoo of your face on my inner thigh.”
“Do you think I came out the pussy drawing fucking Mozart?!”
“Follow your stupid fucking dreams.”
“Everyone does crack at some point in their lives. It’s pretty much a rite of passage.”
“I wanna know where Luigi is!”
“Nothin’ wrong with that. Get clean, get clean with the lord.”
“You’re on page 2, and I’m on page…uh, furiously concentrating on not throwing up from this Nutella situation.”
“I wish you could jump inside my skin and know what I know, and feel what I feel.”
“I’m feeling fly for a caucasian man.”
“I will actually strangle you with my bare hands and feet.”
“Don’t call me “bro” in an accusatory tone!”
“This is a good yiff right here.”
“My friends! I love killing my friends.”
“Now I am the one who is bitch.”
“He died as he lived: eating chicken McNuggets.”
“Well, thank you so much, that’s so nice of you to say, but I don’t believe you and you’re a liar.”
“DIE! DIE YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH!”
“I could tell by his briefly angry eyebrows that he’s someone we should be stabbing.”
“A blunt is a maridujuana.”
“If you can’t beat em, Shoot ‘em with a gun!”
“Getting kicked in the nuts is not an event, it’s a process.”
“My goal is to pee in every major body of water on earth.”
“Man, Club Penguin’s gotten weird.”
“Aw jimminey-jillakers. Gee-whiz Batman. Aw frick. Oh jeezum.”
“And you have ten thousand and seven hundred grams of mardujuana.”
“My style is old, nasty t-shirt and rapidly disintegrating pants.”
“If you ever run into me in the wild, we’ll hug it out.”
“I think the noodles are going to kill me!”
“I’m sorry, your son is an anthropomorphic cheese melt.”
“Wait, but, also shut up.”

Reflections

Drabble game request: Yoongi + “How could I ever forget about you" + Angst | for anon

Character / Genre: Yoongi x reader | parenthood!au, angst 

Word count: 1,562 words

Part 1/ReflectionsPart 2/FlashlightsPart 3/Pathways ⇎ Part 4/Shadows


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retrouvailles (pt 1/4)

as promised, here is our new project in honor of the blog hitting 500 followers! this is going to be a four part installment that all of us have collaborated on. we are really excited about this and hope you guys will enjoy it! 

the piece is called retrouvailles and each of the four parts will be written by one of us: i have written the first, marlo will be writing the second, kaitlyn the third, and our lovely shannon will be bringing it to a close! here is part one! 

love always, mikayla (@cagedbirdsong)

“Yes, just the coffee please. Thank you, keep the change–yes, you too!” Claire offered a smile to the spritely young barista behind the counter, exchanged a handful of cash she still didn’t quite know how to count for the coffee, and turned only to crash directly into the stranger standing behind her.

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Tending to the Fire, part 5.

I love writing alongside my lifelong bestfriend, @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​, and I also love that you all have been so excited about this fic. Thank you for all the kind words you have sent us! I have continued with Part 5, from Nesta’s POV. Enjoy. :)
part 1-part 2-part 3-part 4


I sat on his bed, a small, light pink box in my trembling hands.

Earlier that night, the atmosphere around the dinner table was strangely uncomfortable.

Cassian kept looking at me, an emotion that I could not quite grasp brewing in his hazel eyes. I hadn’t spoken to him much the last few weeks, after I snuck out of bed with him just before the sun rose. I hadn’t had the courage to. I think he took it personal, and maybe it was. It was nothing against him, though. He was only ever good to me.

That was the issue.

I was the issue.

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Capable of Change - 2 (Savitar!Barry/Reader)

Imagine, remnant Barry getting asked out by you and he decided to say yes…

Part One

Originally posted by rawrfreak

He sat there his leg bobbing up and down as his eyes shifted around the bar. He’d picked a place toward the back away from the mingling couples. 

He was about to be one of those mingling couples…This was a bad idea. 

He took in a shuttered breath about ready to stand up and leave when you walked up.

“You came.” You smiled at him as he looked up to you, “I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

He swallowed staring at you before looking down to the table to answer, “Um…I almost didn’t. I’m not really here socially.”

“No?” You slid into the booth across from him, “Work then?”

“Yeah.” He looked up to you again clearing his throat.

“What kind of work?” You took off your coat showing off a nice top that accented your features. The color was complementary to your skin and help brighten the light in your eyes that he had a hard time looking away from.

“Time management.” He glanced up at the waitress walked up to them. He sat back shifting himself to hide his ‘bad’ side.

“What can I get you two?” She smiled at them.

“Rum n’ coke please.” You spoke cheerily.

“And you sir?” She turned looking at him.

“Whatever’s on tap.” He said quickly. 

You looked at him again when they were left alone, “So…you don’t hear about time management a lot. What exactly do you do?”

“I…” He let his mouth hang open for a moment, “I basically go back to places and help them realize that their time could be spent differently. Help them see…options to change time.”

“So you’re a miracle worker.” You smile when he made noise that seemed like a laugh.

“I wouldn’t be back here if I was.” He shrugged a little, “So what do you do?”

“I’m a composer.” You put your hands on the table, “And conductor, they kind of go hand in hand.”

“Music.” He smiled a little, “So you’re a dreamer?”

Your smile got bigger, “I have been told that.”

“With a likeness of coats?” He raised an eyebrow up watching you flush.

“Ah ha…uh…” You folded your hands together, “I…”

He watched you struggle, “You know if you were just…trying to be nice…it’s okay…you can just…”

“I wasn’t.” You got him to stop when you reached over grabbing his hand, “I wasn’t just being nice.”

He looked at your hand over his as this strange warm sensation started flooding from him. His eyes flicked back to yours as you went on, “I have taken the same way to the studio for a year and suddenly this last week you were in that park. My heart raced when I saw you taking in the world around you and I didn’t know how to approach you. This very pensive, strong looking individual, who looked like they’ve been fighting a long time.”

“So…you just…decided to talk to me?” His face held surprise and confusion.

“You only get one life…at least on this plain of existence…I want to jump, not stand still.” You smiled at him giving his hand a light squeeze, “So…I made up a really lame excuse to talk to you.”

“To me…” His voice held disbelief.

“You sound surprised.” You let go of his hand when the waitress brought them their drinks.

He watched you sip your drink, “It’s just…I don’t…get approached. I’m used of just being pushed under the rug and being disposable because of the way I look…because of who I am.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, “Allen…I talked to you because you made me feel something and…I wanted to explore it. Am I curious how you got your scar? How could I not be?”

You watched him shift uncomfortably at mention of his disfigurement before continuing, “But it was the gentleness in your eyes that reassured me that I could. I knew that if I didn’t say something…I would always wonder about that handsome man on the park bench.”

He looked to you smiling at him. How did he miss you in all of the people walking by? That smile was one that would make people stop and stare. 

He finally smiled a little looking down at the table briefly feeling his wall coming down, “So…um now that…the awkward how do you dos are done…”

You giggled letting you hand rest on the table just a breath’s reach away from his, “Yeah…always the hardest part, right?”

“Yeah, I haven’t done this in a really long time. Never thought I would again actually.” He told you as he watched you tilt your head, “What?”

“I just don’t see how, I mean…there’s the obvious, but Allen you have amazing eyes that anyone would be happy to stare into.” You smiled watching him look away from you again.

“You know…isn’t it the guy who’s supposed to flatter the girl?” He smirked a little sending chills up your spine.

“I’m pretty unconventional…I did ask you out after all.” You smirked back taking another sip of your drink.

“I can see that you’re going to be bad for business…” He told you getting another chuckle. 

You had no idea how much you were interfering with his plans, with his work. Yet, some how you were the first memories that he didn’t share with Barry Allen…you were the first memories he had all to himself…and like you said earlier, he would have always wondered about the beautiful girl in the park that had the courage to ask him about his coat.

“You’ll never know how much I love you”

edit credit to my @pizzawasabi

(Long post ahead on why and how I love him! Read at your own risk!)

There is not much I can say today that I haven’t said/thought already throughout these amazing years of loving him. Some people want super scientific and rational and complex explanations as to why you love someone, but sometimes you can’t really put into words something that is just mean to be felt.

When I first got into GOT7 with Girlsx3, I was totally unfamiliar with the kpop world and didn’t even have a bias for a while, mostly because I wasn’t taking it that seriously and didn’t know them well enough.

But as I watched their shows/interviews I started noticing Yugyeom more and more. Honestly, I couldn’t even tell he was the youngest based on looks alone since they all looked fairly young back then. When I did some research and found out his age I was surprised. Especially after the iconic Real GOT7 prank they pulled on him.

Why? Because even though you could see he was upset (and even cried) when he realized it was a prank, his main concern was the group. That his ‘mistake’ would cause instability, and damage the group as a whole.

“I was so embarrassed. I just thought we were finished as a team.” Yugyeom, 2014 (Real GOT7 - Episode 5)

He was 16.

Now, I don’t know about you, but growing up I realized that kids that age (myself included) don’t often see things like that. Sure, personalities differ. We are not all the same. But I couldn’t honestly think of anyone I knew in real life that wouldn’t have exploded right away or just break down in tears while being scolded.

So, I knew then I had a bias.

Like I’ve said, I didn’t take kpop that seriously. I listened to their songs and watched their shows, but I didn’t dig deeper than that. I wasn’t even aware how important it was for them to get wins and to get noticed, because I thought that they were already well established.

2015 rolls around and If You Do grants them their first win. I would only follow them on twitter and I clearly remember what an achievement that was! Knowing that Yugyeom (along with Jinyoung) had had a fundamental role choreography-wise only made me even more amazed at his skills. Not that I ever doubted he was a talented young man, and I still say to this day he has one of the most alluring voices I’ve ever heard!

“Honestly, I don’t get mad easily. I keep it inside me. I try not to get mad because it does no good.” Yugyeom, 2015 (If You Do MV Making Of)

Another fine example of how mature Yugyeom already sounded at just 17. And some people may say “Oh! It’s just a persona. He’s just saying what the fans want to hear!”. And while I agree that we don’t know him off camera and that idols are bound to do fanservice, I am a firm believer that certain things you just can’t fake. I don’t believe he isn’t being honest when he says he is grateful to all of us, or when he says he really cherishes us, or when he shows concern and tells us to take care of ourselves. Certain personality traits have remained constant over the years.

Him being selfless is definitely that one aspect that remains constant.

Fast forward to 2016 when they pulled yet another prank on him during GOT7ing. I know some of people who started stanning him after that episode and if you have watched it you just know why. Second time they pulled a prank on him for a show. Second time he showed us he always puts the group before him.

“I was really worried. We have practice, but he (JB) was about to say quit… I was really worried we were going to disband. My heart is still trembling so much.” Yugyeom, 2016 (GOT7ing - Episode 8)

“I was moved by Yugyeom. He was so innocent because he was worried we couldn’t finish our concert well.” Jinyoung, 2016 (GOT7ing - Episode 8)

If this right here doesn’t show you the meaning of selflessness, I don’t know what does. 

Out of all the things I cherish about him, I think the iconic red hair will forever hold a dear spot in my heart. Yes, yes. It’s just a hair color. But trust me that something as simple as that was what made me smile after a long month of not being able to. How amazing is that? Seeing someone you love do something as ordinary as that and it somehow pulls you back on your feet? 

And let’s not forget how persistent he is. Yugyeom knows what he wants in life. When I was 19 I didn’t even know what I was passionate about. He has shown us countless times how focused he is on achieving his goals. When he was preparing for Hit The Stage he stated that for two weeks he and his crew had no breaks. If he had GOT7 schedule until 10 pm he’d then meet up with his crew afterwards and practice until dawn. 

And at a recent fansign a fan asked him if he could do anything what would it be and he said that even though he knew it was impossible, he’d like to go back in time because he thinks he could have been better. 

I truly hope I get to watch him grow even more as the amazing person he already is. I will remain here by his side. Always.

“Still love you; I’m just for you” Yugyeom, FLASH UP

Lucky Me - Naegami

Words: 1,187

“Where did that idiot go?” Togami began arranging his papers in a neat stack. “He always runs off like this.”

Two fingers drilled into his underarms.

“AH!” He scattered the papers everywhere, looking around wildly. When he heard the snort behind him, he growled. “You…”

“You should’ve seen your face! And you jumped a mile high!” Naegi crossed his arms, smirking. “Is the Super High School Level Ultimate Affluent Prodigy ticklish?”

“Of course not!” he shouted.

“Really?” He took a step forward, backing him against the wall. “Something tells me you’re lying.”

“I’m not.” Togami pushed his friend onto the bed. “But are you ticklish?”

“No,” he replied.

“We’ll see about that.” He stuck his hands under his arms. Nothing. “You’re not laughing.”

“Because I’m not ticklish,” Naegi smirked.

“I’m not giving up yet.” He hesitantly slid his hands under his shirt.

“Cold hands!”

“Just like my heart.”

“Smartass.” Naegi stuck his tongue out at him.

“Plebeian.” Togami emphasized this with a poke to his belly. “Hm?” He raised an eyebrow as he giggled and shuddered. “Well then, someone was lying.”

“I’m sohohorry,” he giggled.

“It’s too late to apologize.” He lightly tickled his belly, watching his face the whole time.

“Ahahahaha!” He covered his blushing face, which in turn made Togami blush.

“Cute,” he whispered.

“Whahahat?” Naegi grabbed his hands and pulled them off. “Wha…what did you call me?”

“Cute,” he repeated. “Your laugh is cute.”

“N-nuh uh…” He hid his face in his arm.

“Yes.” He finally tugged his wrists free and went back to tickling. But it wasn’t gentle this time, it was hard and full of scratching and pokes. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to make it torturous.

“TOGAMIIIIIIII,” he whined, then burst into high-pitched laughter. “NOHOHOHOHOHO, TIHIHIHIHICKLES!”

“That’s the point,” he stated matter-of-factly. “If I wasn’t tickling you right now, you’d look like you were out of your mind.”

“I AHAHAHAHAHAM OUT OF MY MIND!” he shrieked.

“When are you not?” He shook his head.

“P-PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE STOP IT!” Naegi begged, arching his back.

“Pathetic, begging.” Togami clicked his tongue. “And you’re hardly fighting back, you must enjoy this immensely.”

“DO NOHOHOHOHOHOHOT!” he protested.

“Don’t lie to me, Naegi.” Tiny hands were grasping his wrists, but they didn’t move them. “I’ll tickle you for even longer.”

“OH, SCREW YOHOHOHOHOHOU!” Naegi howled as a finger dipped into his belly button.

“Weak spot, I see,” Togami smirked. This was kind of fun. “Where else are you ticklish?” He only received laughter in response. “That’s not an answer. How about here?” He dug into his hip bones harshly.

“AH! TOGAMIHIHIHIHIHI!” He squeezed his wrists so tightly that he cut off the circulation. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!”

“Please what?” Togami had that teasing smirk on his face. “Please tickle you more? Well, if you insist. Who am I to deny my good friend such a request?” The word ‘friend’ sounded foreign on his tongue, but that’s what he was, right?

“NOHOHOHOHOHO, DUMBASS! SHIT, STOHOHOHOHOP!” Naegi pushed his hands away as they were turned into vibrating claws. “MERCY! MERCY!”

“Mercy? I’m sorry, I do not recognize that word.” He let up, allowing him a short break. He’d never admit it, but he looked quite adorable like that. Messy hair, red face, tears pricking into the corners of his eyes.

“Ha…ah…” He panted, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Whaha…what was that for?”

“Revenge,” Togami said simply. “And I’m not done yet.” He flipped him over onto his stomach, bringing his legs into a headlock.

“Nooo, not there!” Naegi giggled as his socks were peeled off. “Anywhere but there, Togami!”

“Too late.” Ten wiggling fingers touched down on his soles, and that was it.

“TOGAHAHAHAHAHAMI! STAHAHAHAHAHAP!” He beat his fists on the bed, screaming at the top of his lungs. “OH, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! BYAKUYA, BYAKUYA!”

Togami grew a bit worried at the use of his name. Did it really tickle that much? He shrugged, pulling back his toes to focus there. He had soft feet, he realized. Did that dork moisturize? Maybe.

“TOGA-TOGAMI!” Naegi could only gasp with laughter, clutching the bedsheets.

“Hmm…” He flipped him over again, taking in his blushing, sweaty face. He brushed a tear off his cheek, then went back to attacking his poor feet. The only reason he turned him over was to watch his reactions.

“TOGAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAMI, WHY?!” he wailed, clutching at his hair in an attempt to lessen the sensations.

“Why not?” Togami shrugged. His reactions really were quite endearing. The corners of his eyes crinkled, his little nose was all scrunched up, he had tears streaming down his face, and a huge smile stretched from ear-to-ear. And he was snorting at this point. “Can you get any cuter?”

“CUHUHUHUHUHUHUTE?!” Naegi’s eye popped open, and he blushed even harder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to say that out loud.” To deflect his embarrassment, he used one hand to tickle his belly while keeping the other one scratching between his toes.

“TOGAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He was reduced to incoherent babbling, hands dropping in defeat. “ME-MERCAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“What? Mercy? I’m sorry, I can’t understand you.” Togami let go of his legs, then blew a huge raspberry on his exposed belly. “Please repeat what you said.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! BYAKUYAHAHAHAHA, I’M DYIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHING!” Naegi kicked his legs behind him, tears cascading down his cheeks like waterfalls. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, I BEG YOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOU!”

“Oh, fine.” Togami slid off him, staring down at the blushy mess he made. “Can’t take it?”

“Hahaha…aha…jerk,” he giggled. “Sohoho mean!”

“I’m a mean person in general.” He looked down at the panting boy, then slowly pressed his lips against his without thinking.

“Mmph?!” Naegi’s eyes shot open, darting around wildly.

“Oh…” Togami backed away. “I don’t know why I did that, I apologize. That was highly uncalled-”

“Shut up, you dork.” He pushed on the back of his head harshly, bringing him into another kiss.

What the hell is he doing?! Togami shifted a bit, then finally kissed back. It wasn’t that bad, actually. It was quite pleasant. He let out a little hiss as Naegi bit down on his lip, growling playfully. Dork.

“Heh…” The brunette pulled away, beaming up at him. “I love you…”

“I…like you too,” he replied lamely.

“Close enough.” Naegi rested their foreheads against each other. “Don’t ever torture me like that again.”

“You liked it,” Togami whispered in his ear huskily. He squeezed the front of his jeans to emphasize his point.

“Oh!” He turned a bright red. “Oh gosh, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay, Naegi.” He kissed his cheek. “I don’t care.”

“Oh…good.” Naegi suddenly pushed him on his back with an evil look. “But now it’s my turn to get you.”

Togami let out an annoyed huff, yet slight fear clouded in his eyes. “Well, hurry up. I don’t have all day, plebeian.”

“Oh, with pleasure.” He cracked his knuckles, then began the onslaught.

Kirigiri opened the door, carrying some groceries. “Hm?” She froze, hearing unfamiliar laughter from upstairs. “Is that Togami?”

“NONONONONONO! NAEGI, STAHAHAHAHAHAP!”

“TAKE IT LIKE A MAN! I HAVE COMPLETE CONTROL OVER YOU NOW!”

“NO, SCREW YOHOHOHOHOU!”

“IS THAT AN INVITATION, BYAKUYA FREAKING TOGAMI?!”

Kirigiri slowly backed out the door.

Break Even

A Christmassy SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Countdown

Simon

Of course, it’s not enough that the Crucible stuck me and that twat in a room together.  It’s not enough that I have to deal with his abuse every single day six months out of the year.  Of course, someone out there, whoever’s controlling the fates, has gotten it in their mind that I don’t have it bad enough.

           You know what would make this even better?  Make Simon and Baz buy each other Christmas presents!  Perfect!

           I trudge along the snowy pavement, scowling at the melting slush.  I’ve been in five shops already and I can’t find anything.  I don’t even know what I’m looking for.  What do you get for someone you despise?

           I suppose I could pull a prank or something. That’s probably what he will do. He never fails to stoop to the lowest level when it comes to me.

           But then again, he would probably kill me if I pulled something like that.  For some reason, he’s allowed to mess with me, but I’m not allowed to mess with him. Figures.

           Exhausted, I duck into a coffee shop.  The air is warm and spiced with cinnamon.  As I make my way to the front of the line, I see the display of gift cards next to the till.

           Baz drinks coffee, doesn’t he?  Of course he does.  Everyone drinks coffee.

           So I buy my peppermint mocha, load a gift card and walk out relieved.

Baz

Of course, it’s not enough that I have to pretend I hate the boy with every word I say.  It’s not enough that I have no choice but to make his life a living hell every single day six months out of the year. Now I have to display my everlasting hatred by means of a Christmas gift exchange.

           Whoever thought this was a good idea can get fucked.

           I shove my way out of a candy store emptyhanded. Every shop is bringing me closer to the point of giving up.  What kind of villain gives the hero candy for Christmas?

           Then again, what kind of villain gives the hero anything for Christmas?

           Maybe the villain who doesn’t want to be the villain.

           I shake my head to clear it, squinting up at the sign over the next window.  Antiques it says in big loopy writing.  I sigh and push through the door.

           The smell hits me first.  It’s not a bad smell necessarily, just old and musty, kind of like breathing straight dust, and I cough.  As my eyes adjust I begin to make out the piles of knick-knacks stacked up on every surface, age-old brass and silver winking at me from every corner.  Or rather, blinking.  Like someone who’s trying to wink but never quite got the hang of it.

           I don’t know where to start.  I don’t even know what I’m looking for.  What do you get for someone who despises you?

           From what I can tell, everything in here is pretty expensive, which almost causes me to turn around right then.  Expensive doesn’t fit the guidelines I’ve set for myself. The gift can’t be too sentimental or he’ll know you don’t hate him.  It can’t be too expensive or he’ll think you cared enough to spend money on him.  It can’t be candy because candy is for kids, it can’t be cologne because that’s too personal, it can’t be homemade or he’ll think you spent time and effort on him. The list goes on and on.

           A flash of metal catches my eye, and I turn to see a tiny silver object on a table by the window.  I wander over to it.

           It’s a sheath, only big enough for a dagger, and it’s patterned in bronze rosebuds.  When I pick it up, I discover that the blade is still inside, intact, and actually nicely polished.

           Of course, Snow already has a sword, but when you live with a vampire, what harm would it do to have an extra weapon handy at all times?  One that doesn’t disappear when you’re not using it?

           “How much for this?” I ask the shopkeeper.

Simon

When the last day of classes rolls around, I find Baz in our room – no surprises there – packing the last of his things for the holidays.  I clear my throat as I enter.  He turns, but only for a second, and he doesn’t make any other move to acknowledge my existence.  Again, no surprises there.

           “Are you leaving soon?” I ask, trying to at least begin the conversation in a civil manner.

           “Yes, Snow,” he sighs, “as you’ll be thrilled to know.”

           I roll my eyes.  It doesn’t matter what I do.  This is just him.

           I drop my bag on my bed and rummage through it, searching for the tiny gift.  When I find it, I toss in onto his bed.  “Here.”

           He looks at it, his brow furrowed.  “What’s this?”

           “Christmas gift exchange,” I say, “you might have forgotten.”

           He opens the pathetic little square of wrapping paper I’ve taped around the gift card, and mutters something incoherent.  “What was that?” I ask.

           “I said, this is my favourite coffee shop.”

           “Oh,” I reply, not sure what else to say.  “Well, good then.  Happy Christmas, I guess.”

           He slips the card into his pocket and doesn’t move.  I figure he’s completely forgotten about the gift exchange, or he deliberately didn’t get me anything, and decide not to press the subject.  I flop down on my bed and pull out a magic book.  No use in packing for me, I’m not going anywhere. Not like Baz.  Not everyone gets to celebrate with a family.  And certainly not everyone gets to celebrate in a fucking mansion.

           A small wrapped package appears in my periphery. I look up.  Baz is madly arranging clothes in his luggage, trying to look like he didn’t put the thing on my bed.  I’m surprised, I’ll admit.  I guess he didn’t forget.

           “What’s this?” I ask.  I don’t know why I ask it, as the answer is fairly obvious.

           “Just open it,” he says, not looking at me.

           Carefully I pull the tape off of the paper, not wanting to trigger anything in case this is still some sort of prank.  I wouldn’t put anything past him, the boy who literally pushed me down the stairs and tried to feed me to the Chimera.  But nothing ticks, and nothing blows up in my hands.  Slowly I pull the paper back from the object, holding it far away from my face, just to be safe.

           I am not expecting a dagger.

           Specifically, I am not expecting a dagger with a matching sheath that clips onto a belt, adorned with a rosebud pattern of bronze. I am not expecting what appears to be a polished silver blade with a soft leather hilt that fits in my hand like it was molded to the shape of my grip.

           My mouth is hanging open in awe.  I can’t seem to form words.

           I look back up at him.  He’s stopped rearranging his luggage and is watching me, and he looks almost nervous.

           “How much did you spend on this?” I breathe.

           He shakes his head.  “It was just from a pawn shop,” he mutters.

           “Damn, Baz,” I chuckle, “way to make me look like a shit gift-giver.”

           His eyes harden.  “I’ll take it back then,” he growls, moving to take it from my hands.

           “No!”  I clutch the knife to my chest.  He stops, looking surprised, like he hadn’t actually expected me to like it.  How he could think that beats me.  “I love it,” I say, not even realizing that I’ve admitted to something.

           His brow softens a bit.  “I just thought it might be easier than always having to summon your sword,” he shrugs.

           “It’s perfect,” I breathe, staring at the roses on the sheath, spellbound by the thing.

           Suddenly I’m hit by a wave of guilt.  I spent a handful on a lame gift card, when Baz went and actually found me something that would mean something.  I don’t stop to think about why he would want it to mean something, I only know that it leaves the scales completely unbalanced.

           I need to repay him somehow.

           I stand, and suddenly we’re nearly face-to-face. If our room wasn’t so damn tight we wouldn’t be this close together, but for once the proximity doesn’t bother me. It clearly affects him though, because he shies away as soon as I stand.  He won’t even make eye-contact with me.

           “I can’t accept this,” I tell him, “not without paying you back somehow.”

           “What part of the term ‘gift exchange’ do you not understand, Snow?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at me.  “It’s a gift.  Let’s just wish each other a Happy Christmas and be done with it.”

           “No, that’s not how we work,” I insist.  “I torment you, you torment me, and somehow we always break even.  So now we have to break even on this.”

           “I’m not telling you how much I spent on that,” he shakes his head.

           “Why not?”  My heart drops for a second.  “Was it terribly expensive?”

           “No, it’s just not what you do.  You don’t tell someone what you spent on them, it just makes them feel guilty.”

           “And since when have you ever passed up an opportunity to make me feel guilty?” I challenge.  He doesn’t answer, just stares at something that isn’t my eyes. I can’t quite tell what he’s looking at. Maybe the wall behind me, maybe my shoulder, maybe nothing in particular.

           “Alright,” I concede, “no money, then.  But there must be something I can do.”

           And – Merlin – his cheeks turn pink.

           And now I’m very aware of how close we are.

           And of how I can pinpoint his gaze now.

           He’s looking at my face, but not my eyes.  My mouth.

           Oh.      

           I don’t think.  I just lean in and kiss him.

Baz

Simon’s mouth, no matter how many times I’ve thought he might kiss me, is a complete shock.  I’ve stared at his lips plenty, but apparently I wasn’t prepared to feel them against mine.

           And now here he is, pressing a gentle kiss to my cold mouth like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

           Before I can even close my eyes, he pulls back.

           I don’t speak.  I don’t trust myself to.

           “Is that alright?” he whispers.

           “Yeah.”  Crowley, I’m shaking.

           “Are we even then?”

           “Um,” I swallow nervously, “almost.”

           “Oh?” He smiles, and my heart stops entirely.  “What else do you want?”

           I lean in by just a fraction, hoping he’ll take the hint.

           He does.

           And then his mouth is flush against mine, not even bothering to be shy.  

What Are The Odds? - Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,538

Summary: Before the reader left for college, she had a one night stand with Dean. Eight years later, Dean learns that he has a daughter in an interesting way.

Part 1


“How was your first day of school, baby girl?” You ask Kelsey.

“Good.” She mumbles as she quickly walks into the next room.  

“That’s all I get?! Just one word?” Sigh. 

You walk into the living room and Kelsey is already watching TV. 

“Do you like your teacher?” All you get is a head nod. 

“Do you have any homework?” She looks at you like you’re crazy. 

“Mom, it’s the first day of school. Of course we don’t have homework.” 

“Fine. Do you remember what I said the other day? When you get home from school, you get an hour to do whatever you want. Then it’s homework time. No TV or video games until it’s done. Ok?”

“Omg, that’s the worst rule ever!” 

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Forever | 24: The Name of Love

Summary: You and Sebastian Stan became best friends years ago, on the set of the first Captain America movie, and you couldn’t be happier that you had found someone just as witty and caring as you - but will feelings wiggle their way in and get in between your friendship and happiness?

Word Count: 3.3k (this is super long and lame IM SORRY)

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: (Throughout) Language

A/N: Only 1 chapter left!!!! I’m gonna cry when this fic ends, but I hope y’all enjoy!!! Reader’s POV, then Sebastian’s for the rest - text convos in italics!!

***TAGS CLOSED***

Forever | 23 // Forever | 25

(not my photo - thanks google?)

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