It’s all yours.

It’s nights like these when Baz knows that Simon is missing his magic the most. Nights like these, when the city is asleep and everything is quiet, and they’re cuddled up on the couch, his wings folded awkwardly out of the way. Nights when he watches Baz magic his coffee warm, and Penny talking to Micah over the phone, and he can smell smoke from the cigarette Baz has just put out. The smell reminds all of them of Simon’s magic. Baz most of all, because he spent years letting it drive him crazy, but Simon too, because it reminds him of a part of him that’s missing.

When he’s in a bad mood, he’ll start griping at Baz, almost like old times, and when he goes to his room early and shuts the door, he can hear them talking in low voices. He knows they worry about him. He knows it breaks their hearts to see him like this, lost without the one thing that defined him for so long. Simon Snow, the World’s Greatest Mage.

But he’s found other things to define him now. He’s Simon Snow, part-dragon, Penny’s slovenly flatmate, Basilton’s terrible boyfriend, the one who single-handedly keeps the bakery across the street in business. He might not have magic anymore, but everything in his life is his by choice.

Sometimes he just wishes he could choose magic too.

Simon and Baz are on the couch now, their sides pressed together, hands linked between them. Simon’s tail curls across their feet. Simon’s watching the TV, but Baz is looking down, at their linked hands. He’s thinking about a night, many months ago, the first time they held hands like this (almost like this; Simon still thought Baz hated him), when he had shown Simon the stars. But it was Simon who had given him magic, and made him believe he might be alive after all.

You can have it. Baz. You know you can have it.

Simon had shared his magic with Baz. It’s the thought that keeps niggling at the back of his mind.

He has to try.

Simon’s gaze is still fixed on the screen, his brow furrowed, shoulders slumped. Baz grips his hand a little tighter, and calls up his magic. Light a match inside your heart. He can feel it flare up inside his chest. He clutches Simon’s hand, and thinks of passing the magic to him, just a tiny bit. He imagines letting the flame grow, passing down his hand, through his fingertips, to catch on Simon’s.

Simon bolts upright and snatches his hand away from Baz’s.

‘What was that?’


‘No, I felt that. What did you do?’ Simon is facing him now, blue eyes wide.

Baz takes Simon’s hand again. ‘I wanted to see if I could give you some of my magic.’

‘No.’ Simon pulls away again.

‘No? You don’t think I can? Or you don’t want me to?’

‘Both,’ Simon says, crossing his arms.

‘Why not? You lent me yours.’

‘No-one’s ever heard of mages sharing magic. It doesn’t work like that.’

‘But it did for us,’ Baz argues. The TV chatters on beside them, forgotten.

‘That’s because my magic was out of control.’ Simon looks away. ‘Different. It doesn’t work like that,’ he repeats.

‘We can try. You said you felt it.’


‘Did it hurt you?’


Baz reaches for him again, but Simon doesn’t uncross his arms.

‘I’m not as powerful as you were, so it won’t be much, but I want to try,’ Baz insists.

‘What if I take it?’ Simon says quietly. ‘What if it dilutes your magic?’

‘I don’t care. And it won’t, it never did for you.’

Simon’s tail is flicking against the couch. That means he’s agitated.

‘But it’s yours. I don’t want to…’ He trails off. He’s not sure why he’s hesitating, if there’s a possibility he could use magic again, even just once, just for a little while. It doesn’t feel right to be using someone else’s magic, even if it’s Baz – especially if it’s Baz. He had his chance, he had much more than his fair share of magic. He was never supposed to have it, and it makes sense that it’s gone now.

‘Simon, you gave me your magic when I needed it most, now it’s my turn. Okay?’ Baz doesn’t know how to say that it isn’t just his magic, because everything that’s his belongs to Simon as well. They’re sharing their lives together now. (He won’t say that either, because it’ll sound like he’s proposing. Someday, he plans to, but that won’t be for a long time.)

Simon bites his lip. ‘Okay.’ He holds out his hand, and Baz takes it.

Simon’s right, it isn’t supposed to work; mages can’t just share magic at will, not with each other, not with any Normal. But they’ve done this before, and Baz’s magic seems to recognise Simon.

Simon gasps as he feels the magic slowly sparking into his fingertips, crawling up his arm.

‘Can you cast something?’ Baz asks, his hand gripping Simon’s more tightly.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star…’ Simon whispers. The ceiling above them doesn’t change, like the whole room did when Baz cast the spell in their old room. Instead, a single shooting star floats up between them, zips around their heads once and flies towards the window. It crashes into the glass, sparking for a moment and then going out.

Baz laughs, and the spell seems to be broken. The unnatural light from the next room and the bluish glare from the TV seems brighter again.

‘That was beautiful,’ Baz says, smiling fondly at his boyfriend.

‘That was your magic,’ Simon answers, his gaze still lingering where the star fell.

‘No, Simon, that was you. If it was my magic, it wouldn’t have stumbled all over the place like that. It wouldn’t have crashed into the glass.’

Simon huffs, but he can’t deny it.

They move closer together on the couch. They don’t need to say it out loud to know they’re done for the night.

Simon rests his head on Baz’s shoulder. ‘Thankyou,’ he says quietly.

‘Anytime,’ Baz mumbles, letting his head drop. Simon’s curls tickle his cheek. ‘I mean it, Snow. Anytime, just ask. It’s all yours.’ His eyelids start to close. He’s tired, all of a sudden, so tired…

Simon can feel the change in Baz’s breathing as soon as he falls asleep. He doesn’t need to think about it for even a second before he knows he’ll never ask Baz to share his magic again. He doesn’t think it has diluted Baz’s magic, or permanently hurt him in any way, but it’s obviously drained him of all his energy. Simon lets his own eyes close, and his wings move to drape across his boyfriend’s back, curling around them both like a blanket. He still isn’t sure how to control those things most of the time, but sometimes they move where he wants them to go, in perfect harmony.

Simon doesn’t need magic, not really. Maybe he did, once, but he traded it for all of their lives, for this flat, for late nights on the couch like this and the boy wrapped up in his wings. It’s not always perfect, but it’s a happy ending in Simon’s mind, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

transgendersam  asked:

ok what about 15 yo sam just starting his relationship w dean and he really wants to be deans one and only baby and be a good boy for dean but hes afraid it wont happen but for some reason sam from the future (s11) comes and visits him and hes been deans babygirl for years and years and talks with little sam until sam is filled up with hope and excitement

My arms are flailing in my head as I write this!

• 15 y/o Sam in another motel room alone, Dean went off with some chick again.

•Older Sam coming to visit him and trying not to freak the kid out

• Both of them sitting on the couch as older Sam explains that Dean just needed time to deal with his feelings

• 15 y/o Sam begging to know just when he’ll get to be Dean’s sweetheart, “please, please I won’t say a word to him.”

• Older Sam looking at himself, still with some hope, not completely innocent, but some shred of faith in the future.

• Tittering in front of the TV while Sam tells his younger self just some of the things Dean does to him.

• “You know what he buys us now?”
“You won’t believe this thing he does with his tongue.”
“Dude, his voice gets even better, trust me. You think you’ve got it bad now.”

• Sam reassuring his younger self that he’ll be okay, no matter what happens. He’ll be accepted by the one he’s been waiting on.

• Then the departure. Looking at the fifteen year old in one of Dean’s shirts that hangs off the jut of one bony shoulder in the bluish light of the television with black holes for eyes right before older Sam has to leave himself.

• Just looking at the older him disappear, he knows things will get hard but his older brother comes in a couple minutes later, tired.

“You hungry? I made some chicken nuggets for you.”

The beaming smile he gets, Sam knows Dean is gonna make him his best darlin’ soon.

Curing Boredom (Castiel)

Cas x Reader 

Message: can you do a casxreader smut thing?

Warning: smut i guess

Requested by: anonymous 


AN: This one is very crappy tbh bc I am sick and I wasn’t feeling very creative and I suck at writing smut ok omg sorry.


You stared at the ceiling of your room, beyond bored. Sam and Dean were out on a case while you stayed behind to do research, which meant that you had nothing to do but wait for Dean’s call.

To pass time you read, you sketched,  and you played that god-awful Kardashian Hollywood game till you ran out of energy … and patience. 

You found yourself wandering up the stairs onto the second floor of the bunker, circulating in and out of the rooms until you came to the one you were looking for. You saw the bluish light from the television seep under the cracked door, and you knew it was the room Dean told you to steer clear of for the time being. “Hi, Cas,” You pushed the door open further.

Cas didn’t look at you, his gaze was fixated on the TV, his hand buried in a popcorn bowl, “Hello, (Y/N),” he answered tensely. “You shouldn’t b - “

“What’s up?” You leaned against the door frame, your hands in the pockets of your jeans.

This time, Cas looked at you. “Heaven, I suppose,” He swallowed a mouthful of popcorn.

“No, I mean, like, what are you doing? How’s it going?”

“I’m fine, I guess, (Y/N). It’s going, whatever ‘it’ is.”

“So, what are you watchi - oh.” You looked at the TV to see that Castiel was watching porn. “Do - do you want me to leave? Like, is this awkward? oh my God, I’m making it awkward, it’s just that I was bored and - “

“No, (Y/N),” He swung his feet over the bed to face you, “I do not feel, erm, awkward. My vessel, he -  I don’t know.” He looked flustered and damn hot.

"I can help, if you want.” Your sudden burst of confidence sent you forward to turn off the television.

“You can heal me?” Cas gasped and looked at his jeans, making you throw your head back and laugh.

“There’s nothing to heal. It’s just your body telling you what it wants,”

"But I don’t know what it wants … ”

“I do,” You walked over to the bed and stood in between Cas’s parted knees. You bent down and kissed him gently, looking into his eyes for permission.

Cas leaned up and wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed you hard, cupping your face with his other hand. You straddled his hips and lightly pushed him backwards to the center of the bed. You pushed off his coat and loosened his tie, pulling on it to move his head to the side so you could leave love bites on his neck.

“(Y/N), does this body want - ”

“Sex? Yes.”

“Intercourse, right.”

Cas got up on his knees, now aware of what was going on, and started to undo the buttons on your flannel as he kissed up your neck, biting at your earlobe. You let out a breathy moan causing Cas to squeeze his eyes shut and grip your body harder. 

He discarded your shirt and slipped his fingers through your belt loops, pulling you closer. Once Cas’s shirt was with yours on the floor, he laid you on your back and stared to kiss up and down your chest. You arched up into his touch as he ground down on your hips, gasping at the friction. “Cas …”

Cas undid the button of your jeans and pulled them down your legs, leaving you in only your bra and underwear. He unclipped the back of your bra and threw it beside him, making it land on the lamp accidentally, “(Y/N),” Cas laughed, “did you see what I - “

You shut him up by plunging your tongue in his mouth and rolling on top of him, “Shut up, Cas.” You relieved him of his pants quickly, adding the material to the pile of clothes on the floor.

He ran his hands down your sides as he kissed your torso, leaning his chest down into you so you were impossibly close. As Cas reached up to drag his tongue up your neck, you both stripped off your last layers. 

With his knee, Cas pushed your thighs apart and settled in between them, cupped your face and smiled slightly. He leaned down and kissed you sensually as he positioned himself at your core and pushed in fully; you gasped and clutched his shoulder, arching up into him and breathing heavily.

Cas drew out and thrust in again, gripping your hips, leaving behind fingerprints on your skin, miniature tattoos. You buried your face in his neck as he continued the rhythm, crying out in tiny yelps. “Cas, please, harder?” It sounded like a question.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, flattening his palms on your back. Your fingertips raked down Cas’s back, both of you close to the point of coming undone.

With your breath hot on Cas’s ear, you were pushed over the edge, him following shortly behind in a mix of - rather enjoyable - grunts and moans.

You laid on top of Castiel, him tracing patterns on your back as you both recharged in a dizzy, sweaty coma.

“Thank you, (Y/N), for curing me. I enjoyed that. Much better than the pizza man.” He blushed, flustered, and you could feel it on the cheek that was pressed against his chest.

Your laugh filled the silent room, “Thank you for curing my boredom,”

“Maybe we could do it aga - " 

Your moment of bliss lasted a grand total of fifteen seconds before Arcade Fire’s “Reflektor” blared off the walls. You rolled off of Cas and felt around on the floor for your jeans and sifted through the pockets until you found your phone. 

"Dean, what perfect. timing. you have,” Cas smiled at you,  happily and naively.

"Quit it with the Red Riding Hood Goldilocks bull - wait,  (Y/N) why are you out of breath?”


—⊰☼⊱ ;;  " Kai~to - Kun.. “ lifts her voice while glancing, rather lazily,
up to him; only the silhouette of his profile is visible midst the soft,
bluish glow of his television, from the angle in which she lies 
against him and utilizes half arm, half chest as a rather comfortable
pillow. Playing on the screen is a movie she’s already seen, yet
always when asked which one it is she wishes to watch, she chooses
the same. It is Kairo – her favorite as always, yet seen so many times
that the typical jump scares of a common horror film no longer even
phase her, and thus the point of watching this genre is all but abandoned. 

                                          ” I’m a bit hungry. Do you have any popcorn? Popcorn
                                         is good for movies. “ Dinner has not too long ago been
                                         consumed, but she is always and forever in the mood
                                         for something to eat. Tiny as she is, she’s a bottomless 

anonymous asked:

What would happen if the guys walked in on you geeking out over video games??? 4/4? (:


Ashton would be out in the living room and he’d hear you shouting and yelling and he’d get really confused so he’d kinda sneak into your room and hear you yelling at your tv screen and youre online playing and some asshole just killed you in your new game and you were mad and he was just really amused and he’d probably sneak his hand in to take a video to show you and the guys later cause it’s pretty funny

Calum would just be getting home from going out with the boys for their night out without girls because you guys had those things every once in a while and he’d come home and the lights were off and he was a little worried and he’d cautiously walk into your room and saw you cuddled into your blankets staring at the bluish tv screen playing your game and he’d flip on the light and you’d make this ridiculous hissing noise and he’d just kinda flip the light off and back out

Luke would like lose you in your local Walmart and he’d just kinda be frantic because you wouldn’t be answering your phoneand so he’d hear you squeal and would immediately think youre being kidnapped or hurt so he’d just run which looks funny cause he’s a giant running through the store and he’d stop and find you bouncing looking at the new Oblivion game and you’d see him and run to him and drag him over wow

Michael would probably be in the kitchen eating something you’d cooked earlier and he’d just reheated and he’d wander out into the living room where you were and start talking and then he’d realize you weren’t there and he’d be confused so he’d put his food down and go looking for you and he’d hear hushed whispers coming from the bathroom and he’d be a little freaked but he’d put his ear to the door and hear you talking frantically about your new game and how you were gonna hide it from him omg