because four weeks is too long


It’s the beginning of the bkkweek too!!!! First prompt was New which was kind of yelling at me for bakunari fluff I’ll be honest with all of you

february 2017 - dan and phil


first week (1-7): still up on the isle of man for phil’s birthweek! phil goes on a pleasant walk on the beach. accompaniment confirmed by dan howell (and martyn and cornelia). dan fell or something while trying to be an aesthetic hoe (a sprained wrist and knee? sorry my honeybee). dan posts another pic from iom and i don’t know why i’m crying in the club right now? (also he posted a flop of it on twitter…whatever). phil liveshow! (highlights: birthday present haul includes cool shoes from martyn, sock book, rewined candle, cool beetle jumper from parents, sushi gummies from dan (nostalgia from tatinof uk), firefly on blu-ray, terrarium, big lava lamp from dan, basically just spent a lot of time walking on the seaside and stuff for his bday celebrations, dan falling was hilarious and also genuinely concerning, “He’s a tall guy so it’s a long way to fall,” magic 8 ball predicted that a dog is on the horizon ???!!!!???!!!, if he does anything interesting he’ll do more day in the lifes??!!!!?!). another seaside walk picture plz stop. new gaming video: Dan vs. Phil: QUICK DRAW! phil gives us a relaxing video of the lava lamp dan gave him. nailbaiting occurred by phil. dan and nathan zed interacted and i ascended. phil takes pictures of dan a lot and dan likes posting them (aka dan lays on the floor trying to script). new danisnotonfire video: MY EVIL PIANO TEACHER (aka dan playing the piano thank god). phil still has jingle bells stuck in his head. dan liveshow! (highlights: sweaty and sensual dan ://, they help each other film because setting up tripods is for losers when you have your own person, they cried laughing filming the piano video, dan was excited about this sext marcus butler sent him from this video but then realized it was a joke, phil’s birthday week has extended until forever, dan dramatically fell and talked about it for five minutes, has hamilton tickets, he might rebrand to Dan Howell on youtube wow plz, he went to the dentist :/). 

second week (8-15): dan and phil hang out with zoe and meerkats as her wish for make a wish foundation! new gaming video: IS IT PAINFUL TO DIE?! - Dan and Phil play Google Feud #2. phil liveshow! (highlights: dan got phil a signed nude of david boreanaz, when they saw manchester by the sea a man tripped into dans popcorn oops, wow! there were three gas leaks in their house! it’s like the universe is trying to say something! *cough* move, if there are more gas leaks they will have to leave the house for three weeks and they would probs go on holiday…japan plz.., phil has pretty houseplants with pretty flowers, he bought a fluffy coat, loved the meerkats, petbaiting). cute australia pic (i wish i was that kanga). new phil icon which has effectively made me dead? (also accompanying pic) new gaming video: DIL GETS A FREEZE RAY. dan gets wet and sticky with phil in phils bedroom. new amazingphil video: Dan and Phil PASTEL EDITS IN REAL LIFE! (i dont know how to feel? i have been overwhelmed). also dan calls phil hubby but like not really but also really and… why. phil wishes us a happy valentines day with a sloth. dan liveshow! (highlights: i don’t really know dan destroyed gender roles and wore a grey wig and a flower crown and tried to scrape off his tattoos just watch the video plz). another australia selfie :( another belated birthday meal for phil but he ate moss that was attached to his drink (is he just gonna keep turning 30 forever jeez). 

third week (16-23): phil’s parents come to london to visit (no phil liveshow) but during their next liveshows they confirm they saw book of mormon again with the in-laws *cough* parents. new gaming video: IS THIS THE END? Dan and Phil play THE IMPOSSIBLE QUIZ! #6 (twas a good one). there are seagulls outside phil’s windows (side note: hector aka shitty watercolour made a painting of it and the livestream of it was good not that anyone cares). phil spent his weekend watching time lapses of cats when they are home alone. dan threw an entire salad out (aka his agenda to force phil to eat pizza and not get healthy even though phil has signed up for the gym and gone jogging i hate him). new gaming video: HORSE BOYFRIEND SIMULATOR?! - Dan and Phil play: My Horse Prince. phil is a bad lurker irl #confirmed as he tried to watch a couple argue but it didn’t work out that well. dan said chicken instead of ordering coffee at starbucks and now he can’t go to that one anymore. also on the same day someone spotted dan and phil out on a bus wow. dan and phil were watching a property show (moving? stay woke) and saw their merch. dan liveshow! (highlights: pastel beanie: on, curly hair: worn, dick: out, i am forcibly removed from the liveshow, he said chicken because of the cow and chicken theme song stuck in his head what a weirdo, he has a cheeky idea for a video thats important but not really and he doesnt know if hes ready :), he has realized he could murder someone because he just spaces out aka the salad event, they forgot to paint their nails and put in earrings for the pastel edits video wow thats great, asmr, he loves moonlight thank god, he and phil play sing star and are only good at toxic and muse, his reblogs on tumblr don’t mean anything, he had a very long shower). phil keeps buying weird things for their home. phil liveshow! (highlights: storm doris, had a haircut in his house again and it goes without saying dan got one too, liveshow haul, he froze younow is philphobic, seven exo planets and countless universes! phil is so smart, final fantasy is too long for dapg, excited for the oscars, and then that’s it because phil likes to keep his liveshows short). 

week four (24-28): oops i counted the days wrong this week is too short, dan is a sad pimp, new gaming video: BATTLE OF THE BALLS - Dan vs. Phil: Golf With Friends. phil had a cozy day and ate cookies. dan believes moonlight should win for best film as it is the most important (thenks dan howell for my life). phil tries to stay up for the oscars but fails and dan lets us all know. “at least i didn’t fuck up as hard as the 2017 oscars envelope guy”, new gaming video: DIL BURNS THE PANCAKES - Dan and Phil Play: Sims 4 #36, dan didn’t have a liveshow because younow was broken

a nice month. what in februation

Star (Poly!Hamilsquad x Reader)

Words: 4000+

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex, ?

A/N: an anon requested a poly!hamilsquad x reader soulmate au and i had no idea how to do it so it’s been in my inbox for like a month. im so sorry i took so long ;-; i never posted this late (or early before so enjoy!)

“Y/N, for crying out loud, aren’t you the tiniest bit curious as to who it might be? I mean, come on, you have an incomplete triangle on your wrist!” Angelica said, trying to pull up your sleeve. You swatted her hand away, pushing it back down. She always pestered you about the mark on your wrist. Since she does not have one of her own, she tells you that she lives vicariously through you.

There were only a handful of people in the world that had markings on their skin. It was what scientists called soulmate links, people you were meant to be with. Unfortunately for you, and this was your opinion, you hated being one of the few to have it. You didn’t believe in people “meant to be together”, and would rather just find someone that you loved for who they are, not what your skin says.

And the mark on your wrist was so small, it could just be a birthmark.

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anonymous asked:

Could you write a fic with the prompt “Stop being so cute.”? (I don't know if you want a specific character but if its directed at Evan then that would be cool~ )

I did this with tree bros, I hope that was okay!

Evan’s fingers shake as he spins the dial on his locker, groaning when he overshoots the third number and has to start inputting the combination all over again. One to the left to 18, two to the right to 3, three to the left to 45. He sucks in a deep breath before trying to pull his locker door open. It makes a horrible metal-on-metal screeching noise, but it pops open nonetheless, revealing messy binders stuffed to the brim with crumpled loose leaf and battered textbooks littered with tiny doodles of dicks. In Evan’s history textbook, one of the previous owners used the eyes and nose of every pictured historical figure as a base for drawing a dick. While Evan can appreciate the effort there, the fact that he has to scramble to cover up his book whenever a teacher passes by his desk does nothing to help his anxiety and he wishes that he could Wite-Out the copious amounts of male genitalia, but that would probably end in him having to pay to replace the textbook and his comfort is not worth a couple hundred dollars.

A tiny scrap of paper flutters out, landing on the sticky hallway floor. Probably another one of the notes Jared has taken to slipping in his lockers between classes. They usually involve dick jokes or sarcastic commentary on Evan’s behavior during their shared chemistry class—because apparently Evan needs to be told how pathetic it was when he dumped watered down hydrochloric acid on his hands and refused to tell the teacher, preferring instead to let his hands tingle uncomfortably until he could wash them after class—or whatever juicy piece of gossip that’s been circulating through the student body. He sighs as he leans over and collects the paper off the floor, bracing himself for a sentence or two on how ridiculous Evan looked when he was startled by a loud noise and nearly dropped his beaker.

Instead, he finds a barely legible phrase scrawled in the messiest chicken scratch Evan has ever seen. The writing looks like it was erased and rewritten about a dozen times, making it seem like whoever penned it wasn’t sure how to phrase what they were trying to say—or whether they should say it at all.

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saltironsteel  asked:

hi, sorry to dump this on you, hoping you might have some insight. do you ever feel like quitting therapy? not bc it's not working but bc it's too much effort? i know i need it but i don't want to be the person that needs it. i keep thinking its not that i want to die, i just don't want to be me anymore.

sure, about four times a week for about fifty minutes at a pop. i get it.

and i wish there was a pill, a drink, a button, a switch, a choice, but there’s not, and it’s okay to be mad and or sad and or lost and or despairing because there’s not such a thing. the road to better is long and hard to see, most especially when you’re on it. 

They say in certain rooms that alcoholism is a thing ‘cunning, baffling, and powerful’ and in my experience, mental illness is the same way. Contradictory, mercurial, turbulent, shifting – it’s a disease that attacks its host’s will to be well again. Hold that close. The nature of the thing is to convince you that because you have the thing you are not worth ridding yourself of the thing. Cunning, baffling, powerful.  

So this is me talking to me, not you. i don’t know you, not really, and I can’t tell you what you need or how to fix it. i know my own version of what you’re feeling, though. And if i could follow my own advice my own recovery and maintenance would be so much more easy but i can’t and it isn’t. so i guess the punchline is: you’re not alone. but if i know anything, it’s that stopping attempts to get better will not and can not, by the very virtue and nature of the enemy, help anything to get better no matter how much it promises us - me - that it will.

anonymous asked:

22 26 or 30 for ways u said i love + deximbits or Nurseydex - ur choice

Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave

Bitty’s visiting Lardo, again. The expansion draft didn’t turn out the way they wanted. Now Jack’s stuck in New Orleans, Bitty’s angry or sad more than he’s actually around, and Dex is just—stuck. Stuck in an apartment too large for one person in a city he barely knows. He spent so much time unpacking and decorating when they first moved here, now it feels like a waste. He thinks about how long it would take to box everything up, and ship it down South.

Bitty would be furious.

Dex’s working a lot of overtime lately. He works until his supervisor or HR kick him out. He calls his family a lot. They’ve started asking what wrong.

“You should come visit,” Dylan told him the other day. “Portland’s fucking beautiful right now.”

Maybe there was more Jack could’ve done, or more Dex should’ve said before Jack told his agent he was ready for anything. Dex just assumed that Providence wouldn’t let go of their most valuable player.

Dex makes dinner. It’s some rustic new age twist on empanadas from that food delivery subscription Jack got Bitty a while back. He doesn’t feel like putting the TV or record player on. Background noise has gotten too cold lately, forced and completely artificial. The clanking of his fork keeps him company. The meal is supposed to feed four. Dex packs away the rest in the fridge; he’ll have leftovers for lunch.

He runs five blocks to the gym, lifts weights for a while. He runs to a cafe he found the other week when he got lost. He orders a tea because he’s sick of staring at the unused nespresso machine at home. He finds a corner table where he can rest his head against a bookshelf.

Dex takes a long sip of the chamomile tea with almond milk. It tastes like sunshine and something sturdy yet warm. He closes his eyes, wiping a stray tear away from his eye. He sits in a crowded room for a while, letting the hum of happy people take him somewhere else. Like maybe a stadium in New Orleans or an apartment in Boston with friends who are hardly his anymore.

He walks home slowly, tugging on the drawstrings of his borrowed Falcs hoodie. He vacuums for the fourth time that week. He reads another chapter of Les Mis because it’s Jack’s favorite book, and then watches Sweet Home Alabama until it’s time for bed.

The next morning he calls in sick.

He stares at the apartment for what feels like hours but only adds up to twenty minutes. He packs a suitcase. He starts grabbing clothing for a weekend in Portland. Next thing he knows, he has enough clothing to last him a month. Dex feels a shake in his breath. He takes a few extra flannels he knows don’t belong to him; he rips a jersey off it’s hanger. He takes the stuffed rabbit that’s been collecting dust on the beside table, shoving it into his backpack. He sits on the suitcase so everything will actually fit.

He grabs the thickest winter coat that isn’t his. He storms out of the bedroom. A light glares in his eye. Dex turns his head. It’s the picture of the three of them in Montreal last summer. He throws it so hard across the living room, it shatters against the back wall.

Dex hears a gasp to his right. He pales. He pulls his suitcase toward the door, eyes not meeting Bitty’s.

He feels hands clutching at the coat he’s wearing. Dex refuses to look.

“I’m going to Portland,” Dex explains. “Dylan said I could crash there for a while.”

Bitty moves closer. “Baby—”

“You know the worst part?” he says, barely above a whisper. “You miss Jack. But I miss you too.”  

“Baby.” Bitty’s voice cracks. “You don’t have to—”

“Eric,” Dex says firmly. “I can’t right now. I just—can’t.”

“I love you,” he says. “I love you so much. I’m sorry. I never wanted—I was just so mad about things that don’t matter. I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok,” Dex assures him softly.

“No it’s not.”

“I should go.”

Bitty nods, biting his lip as he reluctantly lets go. Dex moves toward the door.

“I love you,” Bitty says one more time.

“You can’t even ask me to stay,” Dex says before he leaves.

Bitty doesn’t go after him. Dex breaks down in a train station bathroom. He buys a ticket heading south, unsure if it’ll make a difference.    

No Matter What

Author: @dylan-trash-tbh

 Pairing: Stiles x Reader


 A/N: I’m actually kind of proud of this 🙈 Let me know what you think! 

A huge thank you, to my favorite co-pilot Em @fillthevoid-stilinski, for editing again 💖 


Originally posted by procrastinationoutlet

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Into You (4/?)

Summary- When all the media seems to talk about is Tom’s new girl, and what a perfect couple you are, all you want is to be in his arms again.

AN- Sorry this took so long, I just had so much school work, and I’m really busy all next week so hopefully I’ll spam this weekend for you guys


Originally posted by whallywest


You were trapped.

There was no better word for it. It seemed as though every where you turned there they were, him and his perfect girl. The girl that was once you, but at the same time wasn’t you. Because Tom never flaunted you, he never wanted to be seen out together, you never so much as went for coffee together.

Yet, you longed for him, to be curled up on the sofa watching whatever rubbish horror movie you could find on Netflix, snacking on far too many sweets knowing it would make training a thousand times worse on Monday. The jealousy towards Nina, the blonde who had been draped on his arm, continued to simmer in you, and you could feel it grow bigger with each headline you read, or each photo you saw.

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dwight enys appreciation week

day 2: book quotes scenes you wish were included in the series the wedding night conversation from The Four Swans

Caroline said: “Well, my dear, so we are here together at last, unified and santified by the church. D’you know, I find it very difficult to detect any difference.”
Dwight laughed. “Nor I. It’s hard not to feel adulterous. Perhaps it’s because we have waited so long.”
“Too long.”
“Too long. But the delay has been outside our control.”
“Not in the first place. The fault was mine.”
“It was no one’s fault. At least it has come right in the end.” He put down the poker, turned and looked at her, then came to sit on the bed beside her, put his hand on her knee.
She said: “D’you know, I heard of a doctor who was so earnest in his study of anatomy that he took a skeleton away on his honeymoon and the wife woke to find him fingering the bones in the bed beside her.”
Dwight smiled again. “No bones. Not at least for the first two days.”
She kissed him. He put his hands to her hair, pressing it back from either cheek.
She said: “Perhaps we should have waited longer until you were quite recovered.”
He said: “Perhaps we should not have waited so long.”
The fire was flickering brightly, sending nodding shadows about the room. She said: “Alas, my body has no surprised for you. At least so far as the upper half is concerned, you have examined it thoroughly in the harsh light of day. Perhaps it is fortunate that I never had a pain below the navel.”
“Caroline, you talk too much.”
“I know. I always shall. It is a fault you have married.”
“I must find ways of stopping it.”
“Are there ways?”
“I believe so.”
She kissed him again. “Then try.”
FosterWatch AU

So as I approach 100 followers, which is super cool btw, I am finally getting my own big AU out the door. This is my first time trying any cohesive multi shipping AU, but I think it is super fun. The initial ship here will be reaper76, though it is accompanied by AnaHardt and leads into all the rest of them. Many of the characters ages have been changed, mostly to make some of them younger.

The setup here follows canon for a little while. The Omnic Crisis does happen and Jack and Gabe join an experimental program to help save the world. Afterwards we have some promotion drama, but before too long Jack resigns his position and retires to Indiana. Gabriel follows him and they work out their issues while they get the farm up and running again.

The main part of the AU starts here. Jack happened to make friends with a woman who works in foster care and in an emergency they agree to be foster parents for a short while because some paperwork fell through the cracks. Angelica Gomez is a four year old war orphan and they foster her for a little over three weeks, until the paperwork situation is fixed and her adoptive parents take her to her new home.

The experience is life changing for them and before they know it they are bringing in more foster children, one at a time for a bit and then quickly more and more of them. They care for them and help to find them permanent homes. They cycle dozens of kids, many of them orphans from the crisis, out of the foster system this way. They take great joy in what they do for these children, they even keep photo albums full of pictures of every child they foster to remember them all.

They’ve spent a few years successfully finding homes for every child that they bring under their roof. Everything changes one day when Gabriel insists they accept a young Jesse McCree into their home. Jesse is older than anyone else they have fostered, 11 years old, and he had already been in and out of several homes. Unlike their other charges Jesse was an abandonment case and an angry kid who was missing an arm.

He fought them about almost everything at first. But Gabriel was understanding and Jack was patient and together they showed him what it meant to have caring parents, no matter how much he resisted. Jack and Jesse bonded over a shared love for old westerns. They bought some horses, Jack’s family had raised them for sport when he was younger, but the crisis changed many things and they hadn’t had any in ages. Jesse’s eyes light up like the forth of July when Jack shows him how to care for the new animals on the farm.

Fareeha arrives as Jack teaches Jesse how to ride. Ana has asked them to look after her because she wants her daughter to have a more stable and peaceful childhood. She visits occasionally and takes Fareeha back whenever she can, but trusts Jack and Gabe to look after her daughter. Fareeha and Jesse get along famously, much to Jack and Gabe’s chagrin, they’re little troublemakers after all.

It takes quite a while, but Jesse makes a lot of progress, but he is still forced to watch as the other children, mostly much younger children come and go while he stays here. Jack and Gabe see how much it hurts him to watch everyone else find families and it breaks their hearts. The answer is surprisingly simple, they don’t even really need to discuss it. They loved Jesse and if no one else was going to adopt him, they would simply do it themselves.

They begin taking in more difficult cases like Jesse after that. Children from all over find their way into their household over the years and when the find someone that nobody else will take for one reason or another, they don’t hesitate to.

Their strange little family grows over the years. Two Japanese brothers running from their families, a young ballerina, a precocious girl who dreams of being a doctor, a sassy young computer whiz, a kid from Australia and the slightly older kid who refuses to leave his side, and so many more find their way into the Reyes-Morrison household for one reason or another throughout the years. They all find a place with two loving but a bit cranky super soldier dads on a farm in Indiana

I am slowly working on this AU and its many stories, starting probably with McHanzo and the R76 background because I have never actually written a McHanzo story and R76 is super important in this AU. I was just wondering if anybody was interested in my big overarching Jack and Gabe are foster parents AU.

twentyeightghosts  asked:

I SAW YOUR "#cyberpunk baze x chirrut?" TAG AND NOW I'M THINKING -- chirrut as the badass techno-monk still loyal to his destroyed order, baze as a Bodyguard For Hire With A Big Gun, ughhhhh i can see it so clearly in my head and i love it

Star Wars is basically one step away from cyberpunk anyway, just add more neon and stick everyone on one planet instead of a billion, et voilà.

Chirrut works as a technomancer, able to communicate with and manipulate computers directly without needing code or terminals or cybernetic implants. He came by his abilities not through the self-taught survival-of-the-fittest lessons of the street, nor through sinister experimentation by one of the Megacorps, but through good old-fashioned techno-religion. His bond with the very web of cyberspace becomes the stuff of legends on both the mainstream and shadow ‘nets. This flickering presence known as The Monk, who slips through firewalls and cyber sentries like so much tissue paper, who runs his digital fingers through classified archives and top-security files pretty much whenever and however he pleases, whose reported exploits far exceed the number of places he’s actually been in.

Even glimpsing his avatar requires feats of hacking accessible only to the top tiers of hackers, the legends say, and a confirmed Monk sighting goes onto a person’s net profile like an elite badge of honor, good for both reputations and credit accounts. The legends have also embroidered the description of Chirrut’s avatar way beyond the actual mask of bits and bytes that he assumes when he goes into cyberspace - he particularly enjoys the fanfics that feature flames, or improbably giant swords, or improbably glowing armor, or all three at once - but most of them eventually boil down to a few common threads: a beautiful man with Chinese features, wearing traditional robes, disarming your defenses in a single glance of his eerie, blank white eyes.

But as invincible as The Monk may be in cyberspace, commanding the very hardware of its machinery to bend to his will, he has a weakness. Which is simply the weakness of any hacker, down to the most ordinary - when he’s plugged in, he can’t defend his own body.

Company enforcers know that. Rival hackers know that. Anyone Chirrut has ever crossed, from the Megacorp that bought out and razed his religious order, to the most recent two-bit mob boss he humiliated and laid bare to the sharks of the underworld, and continuing on down the list, knows that.

So that’s where Baze comes in. 

Baze - to put it in the simplest terms - has a really big gun.

He started life as a fully organic, ordinary genetic human. That’s all ancient history by now, seriously - the reason why his Wuxing IST-Tech 45 plasma-cell cannon has so much concentrated firepower, and why it’s so deadly accurate in his hands, is because strictly speaking, there’s no boundary between the cannon and his hands. Cybernetic implants in his limbs, his body, his eyes - even his brain - turn him into a living weapon, one that maintains the firepower and accuracy even if by some miracle he’s separated from his primary weapon. 

His reputation takes longer to grow and spread than Chirrut’s, in part because it’s a fair few years before anyone realizes the quiet-but-menacing mercenary with minor-but-solid street cred operating in a single medium-size city within the Sino-Pacific Trade Group is connected to the much-rumored but somehow even more elusive bodyguard of the internationally-famous Monk. Is, in fact, the same person. (Chirrut still likes to gleefully send him text strings from shadow ‘net forums regarding wild conspiracy theories pulling together highly improbable shreds of evidence to pinpoint the entirely wrong person as the identity of The Monk’s Protector.)

As Chirrut’s daring deeds spread across cyberspace, undermining corporate structures, propping up rebellions, sabotaging exploitative operations, declawing predators and giving teeth to prey, so too does the manhunt for The Monk. Over the years, Baze stops taking as many merc jobs that require him to leave Chirrut’s side, because he simply cannot trust that his partner won’t hook into the ‘net while he’s gone, dancing with wild abandon across the strands of the matrix that runs their world. And, incidentally, leaving himself a completely empty physical shell lying comatose amongst cushions on the floor of their shared apartment. A heavily fortified apartment, but still.

After one particularly long week, which features three highway chases, four days of hopping from safehouse to safehouse, thirty hired hitmen (spaced out over the week), too much expended ammunition to bear thinking about, and a fuckload of cleanup - flesh-eating nanobots do not come cheap, let me tell you, and neither do plasma cartridges - Baze decides to say something. 

“You could at least take a few paying jobs, since I can’t anymore,” he grumbles while he takes one of his guns apart for maintenance. “Thanks to you,” he adds, because sometimes it takes many repetitions of an idea for Chirrut to come to grips with it.

“Yes, we will eventually starve. Soon I will be nothing but an insubstantial ghost, just a spirit swaying in the digital breeze, blown wherever the matrix wills it. I think I’d make quite an attractive ghost, don’t you think?” Chirrut says, leaning back from his meditation pose and stretching, tilting his chin up and exposing a delicious stretch of throat that has Baze clamping down on a highly annoyed spark of lust. “You, on the other hand, would make for quite a large lump of a corpse, come to think of it. Hmm.”

Baze snorts. “You didn’t act like you were kissing a corpse last night,” he says, and Chirrut waves a hand.

“No, no, you’re right. I prefer you in non-corpse-form. Very well then,” and he unfolds with the startling grace that he has - the same physical capability that’s stymied more than one assassin expecting an infirm, out-of-shape hacker - and bounds over to fold into Baze’s lap, who hastily retracts the gun into his arm compartment. Chirrut cups his cheek, running light fingers over exposed metal ridges and surgery scarring. “For you, my beloved, I will take a paying contract. How much should the Monk charge for his services, I wonder?”

Baze raises an eyebrow under Chirrut’s hand, not bothering to conceal his surprise at his partner’s easy capitulation. “For you? You could probably ask for anything you want. Couple million creds, to start with, and going up from there.”

Chirrut’s pupils contract in the way that indicates he’s pulling something up on his internal HUD. “I have here a humble request,” he says, stretching out the word ‘humble.’ “From someone designating herself Mon Mothma. Came in just a few hours ago.”

Baze raises his other eyebrow. Mon Mothma of Alliance Corp? Everyone in the shadow world knows by now it’s just a front for one of the many proletarian movements seeking to break the grip of the oligarchy. Ironic that she’s funding it with wealth gained through her own corporation. But she can pay handsomely. 

Chirrut bends forward to kiss his eyebrows. “I take it you approve.”

“You’ve vetted it already,” Baze says. 

Chirrut scoffs. “You could have left that thought unvoiced and saved yourself the energy,” he says, and Baze rolls his eyes.

“When’s the verification meeting?”

“Tomorrow, in the Prosperity District. At a very nice café for the finest tea in the region, the reviews tell me.” 

Right in the heart of downtown, in the shadow of every major Megacorp skyscraper in the SPTG. Baze sighs. “I’ll get out your good suit. Try not to get yourself killed.”

“Mon Mothma asked for you, too. By name.” Chirrut smiles radiantly, inordinately pleased for no reason Baze can think of. 

He grunts and wraps his hands around Chirrut’s waist. “We’ll have to pull the rich-asshole-and-his-bodyguard act again.” Baze’s visible modifications aren’t unusual in the bowels of the city, down at street level, but would stand out as unspeakably gauche if he tried to pass himself off as a plutocrat on the 200th floor of some shiny fuck-off corporate complex.

“If we must,” Chirrut dismisses. Then he pushes Baze flat on the floor and slides down, grin glittering wickedly, and proceeds to make Baze prove - repeatedly - that he is very much, definitely, decidedly not a corpse.

(Sidenote: Baze does in fact own a super rad cyberpunk motorcycle that leaves neon streaks in the darkness when he and Chirrut ride through the rain-soaked alleys of their city, because the Rule Of Cool turned the knob up to 11 on this pair, and everyone knows it.)

Under Your Spell

[Part 1: “Bewitched”]

content: “It’s not easy to live with a witch.”

word count: 5,881

author’s note: After participating in @destieldrabblesdaily‘s fanfiction contest last year, a lot of people asked me to continue this series and I’m honestly happy to oblige <33 And since I recently gained 2,000 followers I thought this would be a good way to celebrate!!


It’s not easy to live with a witch.

At least some people told Dean beforehand that it would be crazy to move in with his uniquely magical boyfriend who tends to turn things that usually are very much quiet and motionless into something alive and chatty.

That he’d lose the last bit of privacy and sanity along the way and probably end up in a special ward at the hospital, talking to himself.

And yeah, sure, their concerns weren’t exactly unfounded, Dean’s able to admit that. It may seem strange from an outsider’s point of view to actually crave to live in a place that’s more or less the pure definition of madness and Dean’s honestly still not really used to the coffeemaker talking his ear off first thing in the morning or the candlesticks performing their weird and somewhat disturbing dance everytime they hear even the faint sound of a pop song.

It’s insane. It’s wild. Sometimes it’s even freaking terrifying.

But Dean doesn’t want it any other way.

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Waiting (½)

Word Count: 1374

Characters: Bucky/Reader, mention of Wanda, Steve, etc.

Summary: You and Bucky are dating and you’re waiting for him to return from a long mission. You have to deal with something changes to your relationship.

Warnings: Swearing (cuz it’s me)

Author’s Note: I’ve had this idea for a very long time now, though I’m not sure I’ve done it justice. It’s kind of fluffy, with a little bit of angst (maybe?)

You sat on the couch, curled up into a ball, wrapped up in the coziest blanket you owned. You were surrounded by pillows as the couch had become your makeshift bed while you waited for Bucky to return.

This was the longest mission he had been on since you got together. Four months. Four long, agonizing, lonely months. It was even worse because the last three weeks had been in radio silence. Zero communication. It was killing you. You could survive with facetiming, phone calls, and texting; though brief, you had communication every single day. But hearing absolutely nothing was driving you out of your mind.

The first few weeks, you tried sleeping in your bed but it wasn’t your room anymore. Bucky’s presence was too strong there and his absence made you ache. So instead, after too many nights of too little sleep, you set up camp in the common living room area, on the plush couch. You were closer to the kitchen, there was a bathroom close by, and the television was big enough that come nighttime, you were provided with enough of a distraction until you were actually able to fall asleep.

This was a big mission. Everyone was gone from the tower, leaving you to your own devices. You had planned to get so much accomplished but ultimately, you got nothing done.

But today was different. Today was the day the team was supposed to return from their mission. You had planned on making a big dinner for everyone to mark their return but by the time you woke up, showered, and did some laundry, you were too tired. You justified ordering a pizza because everyone liked pizza and this way, no one would feel obligated to spend anymore time with each other - they could grab and go. This way you could also spend some more time with Bucky.

You had told F.R.I.D.A.Y to let you know when they arrived so you shouldn’t have been surprised to hear her disembodied voice alerting you to the quinjet’s approach. It startled you awake and you barely had the energy to get up from the couch. Instead, you wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself and sunk deeper into the cushions

You stared at the door willing it to open when suddenly, Steve walked through looking a little worse for wear. His uniform had gashes and was covered in dried blood and other bodily fluids. He saw you and rushed over to hug you but stopped himself.

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shanks reaction to his s/o telling him that she’s carrying their child please? ❤

A/N: The end is rushed bc my brother annoyed me I’m sorry, I hope this is fine! 🌺

Shanks s/o tells him she’s pregnant

  • Shanks is not the type to take things very serious, unless it gets … serious… (but he might not be very fast with realizing that it just got serious tho)
  • If you told him that you were having his child, he’s probably thinking you were joking
  • “HAHA! Sure! That’s a funny one, Y/N!” - “Uhm… Shanks…” - *He’s laughing and now leaving the room*
  • You would be a bit hurt and annoyed by him being so…stupid, but it would be fine, sooner or later he will find out anyways
  • so you just go on with your days, from time to time you still mention it, but he just starts to think it’s your inside- joke
  • “Oh, I can’t drink alcohol, it’s not a good idea.” - “Right! You’re pregnant! Haha! Don’t worry, if you’re ‘pregnant’-” *makes dramatic air quotes* “-I’ll drink it for you!”
  • The whole crew knows about your pregnancy by now, Shanks turns out to be the only joke on the ship
  • Then there’s this one evening where he gets completely drunk
  • It’s nothing new, like it’s just him celebrating wednesday or something
  • You both lay down, the sun hiding behind the horizon for hours now
  • You can feel him stare at you from the side, so you turn around and stare right back at him
  • His hand slowly touches your belly and carefully feels around it
  • “I don’t like the pregnancy joke anymore.”, he just mumbles drunk and you just…. feel vv sad
  • like really sad :/
  • a part of you thought the ‘joke’ will make him get used to the thought of kids, like it will somehow make him happy
  • but there he is, red hair falling into his face and a concerned look on his features while he talks to you
  • “Why is that?” you whisper back
  • You lowkey don’t want him to touch your belly anymore, it feels wrong and you feel like you betrayed him, maybe he even betrayed you
  • so you take his hand and try to push it away but he just doesn’t move an inch
  • “I don’t like the joke anymore” he repeats
  • “Shanks…”
  • “because it makes me want to have real children with you”
  • And you just go WOOOOOOOOOOAHHHHHHH what *cries in overwhelmed*
  • Like you gasp loud and cover your mouth with your hand
  • Did he just say that?
  • I swear he did!!!
  • And you feel your eyes get wet and silently cry but he doesn’t really notice bc he’s too drunk :/
  • “I can’t help but imagine our kids… like a red haired punk running around… he’ll probably be so stupid if he turns out to be like me… and a beautiful girl… she’ll probably turn out to be so smart if she’s like you…. what if they have my hair colour? what if yours? what if both! Like some half half thing!!! Like a remix!”
  • He just gets so happy and your heart aches
  • “but that will never become true hah”
  • he turns around on his back and stares at the ceiling and just smiles so sadly…………………
  • “Because I’m a pirate, like… really…. a pirate
  • You grab his face and turn him around, making him stare into your eyes
  • “Shanks, I’m pregnant. It‘s been four weeks, it was not a joke, it was the truth. It is the truth.” you grab his hand and push it against your belly “This is our baby.”
  • There this long second that passes, neither of you speak, you too scared to say anything and him just trying to progress what you said and then….ugh
  • It looks like fireworks errupt in his eyes, his grin turns massive and he just looks like the happiest person alive
  • You’re about to hug him and tell him how much you love him, him and your unborn child when….
  • …..he just falls asleep
  • Your face falls and then you just laugh, leave it to god damn shanks to fall asleep after you tell him you’re pregnant
  • When you wake up again, like hours later, he’s already awake
  • You glance at the side of you, where your lover is supposed to lay, but he’s not there, at least not laying down
  • He’s sitting up and staring at you with a frown, you can hear him say your name once
  • “Hm…?”, you mumble and yawn, then you remember your conversation from last night and you sit up too
  • There’s this weird feeling around you, like some unsaid thing
  • something uncomfortable
  • “How do you fe-”
  • “Are you really pregnant?”, he just interrupts you and you gulp
  • His stare is intense, there is nothing playful about him anymore
  • “I…well,” you nod “Yes I am.”
  • A long second passes, you can hear voices through the wall and footsteps all around the ship, but shanks and you… there are no words spoken
  • then He grabs your face and kisses you for a long long time, he kisses your head, nose, cheek, neck EVERYTHING AND YOU’RE JUST CRYING ON THE INSIDE AND oh wait you’re crying on the outside too
  • You hear him sigh and just like that everything feels right, feels so perfect
  • “I love you, Y/N”
  • When you guys announce it officially to the crew, they start to clap, shanks thinks it’s because of, well, your pregnancy??? But they’re actually clapping bc shanks took four fucking weeks to notice his wifey was pregnant

Kwon Jiyong x Reader
Fluffy, funny, smutty.

A/N - This is my first time posting a story anywhere in a long time. The beginning is drawn out because…that’s how I write. Hopefully it doesn’t put anyone off too much and maybe someone will enjoy it! 

Three weeks, four days, ten hours, twenty-eight minutes. That’s how long it had been since I’d seen my Jiyong. There was one day and three hours until I got to see him again. That was why I had to scurry around on my day off work to clean our apartment. Jiyong was a bit of a neat freak, everything has a place and everything in its place, as they say.

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The Winter Soldiers - Part Five

Summery: In 1993 Hydra put you under Cyro freeze and after twenty four years sleeping, your past companion Bucky Barnes aka the Winter Soldier finds you and brings you out into the real world but the both of you struggle with your past as Hydra’s Winter Soldiers.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,792

Warnings: just a little fighting (sparring), slight swear word

A/N: Sorry its not a lot which is weird because its a weekend but I’ve actually been studying (which is new). I’ve got a hectic week coming up but I will post as much as possible. For now here’s part five, happy readings!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

Originally posted by xopsychogirlxo

*gif creds to owner*

Tony walked into the room with your new uniform.   

“Nothing special it’ll just feel better when you’re fighting,” he said.  

You look at the outfit in his hand. He was carrying a grey long sleeve with a burgundy star on the right shoulder matching the star Bucky had on his metal arm. The shirt was tight and dipped too low for your liking but you took it anyways.   

Next came the tight pants that were burgundy to match the star on your arm. They looked uncomfortable but Tony promised you that your uniform would be comfortable so you took them as well without complaint.   

He also handed you a black belt with gun and knife holders. At least this accessory was legit. But then he pulled out a pair of black high heeled boots that ended just under the knee. The heels where decently high and adding them to the outfit made you feel slutty.  

“No,” you deadpanned to Tony looking him straight in the eyes to let him know you were not joking.  

“Humor me Newbie,” Tony said rolling his eyes.  

You took the boots huffing and went into the bathroom to change. After changing you pulled your hair up in a ponytail to tie the look together before you stepped out.  

“You look great, how do you feel?”  

“Surprising good,” you said slowly.  

“Told you, this is your new uniform. Enjoy Soldier.” You swore Tony said something else but you were too busy looking at your reflection in the glass.  

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Happy Birthday Baby - Conor Maynard Imagine

Summary: It’s your twenty-second birthday and you’re missing your boyfriend, but things are never what they seem.

Word Count: 1302

Author’s Note: This was partly inspired by my birthday last Wednesday, partly by the finale of Vampire Diaries and partly by @thatcherjoesuggimagines and her inherent love of my writing and particularly an original character I've created named Penny. For the benefit of the reader, I’ve changed all mentions of Penny to Y/N. This was also inspired by me reading every single Conor imagine that @suggxmaynard has written.

Originally posted by conormaynardaf

“Y/N! Hurry your ass up!”  

Y/N rolled her eyes at the sound of Layla’s voice yelling at her from up ahead of her, always the impatient one that girl.

Tugging her jacket closer to her body, she sped up slightly, the heels on her boots clicking loudly against the pavement as she hurried to where Layla and Mia were waiting for her, less than patiently in Layla’s case.

“No call yet?” Mia asked her friend gently, her green eyes flicking over to her best friend and a small frown appearing on her face at the shake of the head she received in response.

It was her twenty-second birthday today, and Mia and Layla were taking her out for an evening, but she had no clue as to where they were going, or how they’d wound up in one of the richest parts of London.

However, as much as she loved her friends, she was missing her boyfriend deeply. Conor always went super big for her birthday in some massive and elaborate way that had her rolling her eyes at him, but she had come to enjoy the excitement he got out of planning something so extreme for her birthday. Besides that, she hadn’t even spoken to him today and was very very scared that he had forgotten her birthday altogether because someone else was on his mind.

She had always prided herself on being a chilled-out girlfriend, she generally didn’t object if a guy spent a lot of time with his girl-friends and she wasn’t crazy jealous or possessive because most of her friends were guys too. She had never seen the point in being crazy jealous … until Conor.

She wasn’t sure what it was about Conor that was so different to her other relationships but it made her skin crawl to even see another girl near him, and he was the same way with her, they had a very close and very physically affectionate relationship, so him going away as suddenly as he did for as long as he had, three weeks and four days, had been kinda rough on both of them. Neither one of them were fantastic at the whole ‘communication’ thing so after a while things became really hard and her doubts about their relationship had multiplied ten-fold.

She refused to be upset on her birthday, though. Even though her boyfriend was a moron and even though he’d forgotten her birthday, it was her day, not his and as such, she was determined to enjoy it.

“Either one of you mind telling me what we’re doing on this side of Regent Park? And why we walked? There would have been plenty of room to park on the side of the road …” Y/N commented as she jogged to keep up with their long strides, a sudden chilly breeze reminding her that it was March and not July - something she had tried to point out to them when they’d forced her into this lovely yet impractical ensemble.  

“Oh my gosh, quit your whining, we’re here you lil grouch,” Layla snapped, the three girls coming to a stop outside of a large and opulent house, the white porch that wrapped all around the home making Y/N feel oddly calm. But something still wasn’t adding up.

“Where is here, exactly?” She asked carefully, eyeing the house with mild intrigue, “I know I was the one who wanted to do something different tonight but honestly, I would have been fine drowning my sorrows in a bottle of wine and a neverending bowl of pasta,” she trailed off, taking a sharp breath when the thick and ornate front door swung open, the sound of rambunctious laughter spilling from the inside.

Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.

Because standing on that porch, with an impossibly cheesy grin on his face was Conor Maynard, wearing the jumper that had taken her nearly three months to knit because he wanted a Weasley jumper out of Harry Potter.

“C-Con?” Y/N could barely utter his name as she looked up at him, willing herself to believe this wasn’t another dream.

“Happy Birthday Baby,” As soon as the words left his mouth, she was running full pelt towards him, her heels clicking loudly against the pavement as she launched herself up the stairs and into her boyfriend’s arms, wrapped her own around him as soon as he was within reach.

Curling her arms around his neck tightly, she clung to his body, having to stand on her toes even with the platforms under her shoes. “You’re here,” she mumbled in disbelief, her face buried in his neck as she held onto him, the feeling of him in her arms again setting her body on fire. “You didn’t forget,” she whispered, barely audible as she registered that Layla and Mia had disappeared inside of the house, no doubt going to find their own boyfriends.

“Is that what you thought? That I forgot your birthday?” he chuckled softly, pulling back slightly to look at her face and not at all surprised to see the shy little smile on her face or the blush that was threatening to creep down her neck. “I will never forget you, I will love you till the day I die,” he grins as she rolls her eyes at him, shoving his shoulder slightly.

“Does everything have to involve a pop song with you?” she scoffed playfully, pushing him away in jest, only for him to use her extended wrists to pull her towards him again. Using their position to his advantage, he slipped one hand behind her neck and ducked down to seal his lips against hers in a sweet kiss.

Y/N had learned very early on in the relationship that Conor was good at using kisses to distract her. He was a very good kisser and the only boyfriend she’d ever had where she was completely content to just make out with him for hours and not feel the pressure to go to the next step. As such, she often got lost in his kisses and it was very easy for him to coerce her using this, which is why she really wasn’t overly surprised at the heavy feeling around her dainty wrist when they separated for air.

Pulling her wrist up for a closer look, she felt her eyes widen at the glimmering blue sapphires that blinked back at her, “I’m not gonna bother asking how much it cost, because I already know it would have been too much, and I’ve spent far too much of today being upset with you for forgetting,” she speaks softly, glancing up at him over the rim of her glasses.

Smiling at her softly, Conor ducks down again to press a smooth kiss to her cheek,  delighting in the blush he could feel against her skin. “Come on, let’s go get some cake so you can make your wish for Jack to be turned into a squid,” he chuckles, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend and leading her inside.

Humming slightly, she leant into his side as he walked them inside the house (which was as lavish on the inside as the exterior was) a tiny “I love you” being mumbled against his sweater before all of their friends launched into an extremely raucous version of Happy Birthday.

Conor didn’t need to reply for her to feel reciprocated and if his arms always seemed to linger around her waist and his lips didn’t stray far from her neck for the rest of the night, then that was okay too.

Love at First Video Part 29: Suspicious Behavior

Misha Collins x Reader

1300 Words

Story Summary: You were a babysitter, but you wanted to be more. Deciding to create a cooking video, you were shocked when it garnered the attention of a well known actor. Soon the attention becomes something neither of you can ignore.

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

It was about a week later when you noticed a subtle change in the way everyone acted around you. The kids were bouncing with energy, giving you weird looks, and there had to have been three of four times that Misha had to shush them.

Misha was acting strange too. You thought maybe it was because he was busier than ever, shooting late into the night, coming home exhausted. But when he was home, he would give you long glances, or hang up his phone as soon as you walked into the room. After the third time that happened, you asked him if everything was okay, and he seemed flustered, unable to answer your question.

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Flour (College!Jin)

Plot: #53: “Slushies aren’t just for kids, fuck society.” with college student!Jin

Word Count: 649

A/N: so since it seems to be mid-term season rn, I figured this post was fitting and I was just in the mood to write something for Jin today, idk why but I just really wanted to so that’s exactly what I’m gonna do, the link for this post should be college!Jin but I haven’t written it yet, I will be doing the college series soon maybe that can be the next series bc I’ve been wanting to write it for so long so hopefully that’ll be up within the next few weeks!!

Your friends all handled stress differently. Yoongi and Jungkook turned to their music, putting in their earphones and blocking out the chatter around them as they tried their best to study for the mid-terms. Hoseok and Jimin turned to dancing, spending the few hours of their free time in the dance studio across the street from the apartment complex you all lived in. Your boyfriend turned to cooking, baking, anything that would keep him distracted long enough to calm him down. You had woken up at three in the morning to find him in the kitchen with just an apron and his boxers on, making the largest stack of pancakes you may have ever seen.

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