Many of the strange things we see in the sky are explained away as balloons or shopping bags. I would be hard pressed to come up with any earthly explanation for this object, which stayed in one place for several minutes in the eastern sky at sunset this evening in West Los Angeles. It rotated, seemed to shy away from my camera and retreat, becoming quite small for a while, and then relaxing and coming back for photos. Zooming in closely revealed changes to the shape from one photo to the next. I may have enjoyed a shopping trip to Ross today, but this is no Ross shopping bag.
Update 7/26/17: Thanks to all the teenage unicorn and fairy nonsense blogs for reblogging and bringing more hits to Somewhere Under the Chembow. Your shilling is very much appreciated! Hope you all made lots of $$ for your comments!
@abbytran13 will your parents still think you’re a “perfect little angel” after I contact your school via their anonymous bullying report page??? (me and someone I’m messaging on here are working on that)
CastielXReader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Word Count: 1627
A/N: One-shot written
for @casbabydontgoineedyou / Katie’s 1K Writing Challenge / prompt #18 - The
last time you made dinner, you caught the kitchen on fire. NSFW/18+
readers/adult content – oral sex, female receiving (come on, who doesn’t
fantasize about this angel between their thighs?).
adorable, eager-to-please-you Castiel likes the way you look in his white
button down shirt the morning after a night of incredible sex. So much so, he
wants to make you breakfast.
(not my GIF)
daily newspaper tucked under one arm, paperboard Gas ‘N Sip coffee cup clasped
in hand, whistling low to the classic rock tune of Smoke on the Water, Dean Winchester leisurely rambled by the bunker’s
kitchen threshold. Several paces beyond the door, he stopped up short, coffee
sloshing from the ill-fitting plastic lid to splatter his leather shoes, brow furrowing,
brain incrementally registering the odd sight presented to his peripheral vision. Gravitating
backward, he craned his neck, peering into the kitchen, calmly confirming with
a bob of his head that Castiel was indeed situated at the counter attempting to
assuage an angrily beeping coffee maker into producing a fresh pot while
wearing nothing but crinkled white boxer shorts. Dean scanned up and down the empty
hall and around the otherwise unoccupied room before clearing his throat to
announce his presence.
Cas snapped shut the top of the ornery contraption, effectively
silencing it. Angling to regard his friend, he cordially nodded in greeting,
“Good morning, Dean.”
Dean stepped through the door, an amused smirk overtaking
his features, “Uh, Cas, look man, it’s great to see you finally making yourself
at home, but where the hell are your clothes?”
song inspiration: young and beautiful → lana del rey.
roasted leaves rested on the earth, branches bare from their departure. you had awoken on this cold morning, expecting the day to continue like it usually would. beacon hills housed some of the most chaotic creatures, the current topic is the ageless nogitsune that settled itself into stiles stilinski’s figure.
tonight was halloween, your favourite season. lydia was hosting a party at her lake house, you had decided to attend as a bloody nurse. it was a classic but you still rocked the clothing nonetheless. fake blood would be stained across your white dress and you decided that your hair would be in loose curls.
the night dawned over and you had arrived to lydia’s lake house with one of your close friends. people flooded the hallways and bumped into one another as you tried to fight your way through the crowds.
you stumbled into the kitchen before pouring a drink, the burning liquor poured down your throat as you grimaced at the strength. the small particles of your drink rose to the top of the glass as you placed it down onto the marble counter.
people complimented your outfit and you were the most best dressed at the party. you had some angel white contact lenses in that added to the awesomeness. you leaned against the counter as stiles walked in, he didn’t seem to add any effort into tonight’s seasonal events but it didn’t bother you.
stiles’ eyes were unlighted and he looked light–toned. he looked as though he hadn’t slept in years, despite the little endeavour he added to his costume. your crush on stiles seemed to heighten as he looked attractive in this moment.
“c–can you do me a favour?” stiles leaned closer towards you as his darkened eyes bored into yours. his thumbs lightly brushed your cheeks as you shuddered at the coldness of his hands.
“sure, what is it?” you catechized as you glanced at his cold, lavender coloured lips. they were chapped as he whispers delicately in your ear.
“I need you to kiss me, sweetheart.” he growls as it sent chills down your spine. stiles had a melancholic vibe that made you feel slightly uncomfortable. but you had a crush on him, so the attention was overwhelming.
music was pulsating in your head as you glanced at stiles who raised his eyebrows, awaiting for you to heed to his demands.
“are you sure?” you dithered as storms accumulated in his brown orbs. he tilted his head as you sucked in a harsh breath, understanding that he was one–hundred percent sure with his commands.
“alright.” you forbade as he briskly became more impatient as each second passed, he gripped onto your waist and crashed his fractured lips against yours.
your fingers tousled his dark brown locks, the moment prodigious. you couldn’t process what was happening right this second. you were indulging in an intense make out session with the guy you had a crush on.
as you caught your breath, he had a devilish smirk plastered on his pale complexion. in this moment, you realised that you weren’t kissing stiles.
scott rushed into the kitchen as his eyes widened, stiles’ expression hardened as he grips onto you.
“stiles, let go of me.” you struggled to escape his tight hold as he chuckled, scott’s face was full of concern and panic as he tries to pull you away from stiles.
“that’s not stiles.” you gasped as scott manages to drag you out of stiles’ reach. “he’s not stiles.” you repeated as the duplicate of stiles smirked in achievement.
“congratulations, you’re one of the last people to work that one out.” he snarled, you backed up against the counter as scott becomes face to face with the heartless monster that held stiles’ mind hostage.
“don’t touch her.” scott says harshly. in reality, void stiles didn’t want to hurt you. in fact, he wanted you for himself.
stiles’ memories were full of you, he had liked you all this time and void stiles seemed to of developed the same affection that stiles held for you. all the times that stiles would tell you about his nightmares, you wouldn’t listen to him.
you’d tell him that everyone has nightmares, but these ones that stiles were having involved you in lots of them. but again, you didn’t listen to his worries. stiles had devils in his head, they’d manipulate him and drive him insane.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I fucking want you, I want you all for myself.” void’s jaw clenched tightly as his knuckles turned white from exertion.
everything made sense now, the nightmares, the sleepwalking and the panic attacks. you felt terrible, neglecting stiles’ needs and words.
he was possessed, every second that you spent with him was slowly morphing into someone who wasn’t him.
this entity that’s allowed itself into his lanky figure has taken over his life. there wasn’t anything you could do.
void stiles wanted you, and he wouldn’t give up unless he had you…