cleanly shaven

Keith’s Galra DNA

So this is a long one, but I think it’s important.

This will go in the “Headcanon” category. If you want to take this idea and expand upon it, please do! Tag me so I can see what you create! And HERE are my other headcanons!

I was sitting in a science class, thinking about Voltron, as you do. And a theory came up and hit me out of nowhere.

Now, I’m no biology major. But we’re talking about a show with giant space robot lions forming to make a giant space robot man piloted by an escaped prisoner with a magic/tech arm and four teenagers. I don’t think scientific accuracy is our main concern.

We know Keith is part Galra. We just don’t know how much. A lot of people are going for the 75/25 split in favor of human, because of how he looks. This is called phenotype - how our genes are expressed outwardly. But phenotype is determined by dominant and recessive genes. The genotype is what the DNA is actually made of.

With that in mind, you can have a 50/50 split in favor of Galra, with human being all dominant. With all the aliens out there that are even vaguely human-looking (with face structure, body structure, etc), it seems like human-like traits seem to be dominant in this universe’s genome. And we see Keith having human traits in the dominant form - dark hair, dark eyes. So we can think that most, if not all of Keith’s Galra DNA is in the recessive form in the genotype. It’s there, we just don’t see it. It could even be a 75/25 split in favor of Galra instead of human, but all be hidden. This is why some children look so much like one parent and almost nothing like the other.

So now that we’ve got the science out of the way, let’s talk about the Blade of Marmora episode and get some theories going.

Imagine Keith’s blade triggering the Galra DNA in his system, pulling it from genotype to phenotype. All the Galra traits were there, but they were all in the recessive form. The magic purple flash changed them all from recessive to dominant. That’s not exactly how our DNA works, but we also have this quintessence stuff that turned him a bit purple? We’re talking about alien biology, cut me some slack.

But this switch wouldn’t happen instantly (like we all wanted and made edits of). It would take time for the biology to catch up.

And that’s the transformation we wanted.

Imagine Keith getting super hungry, his body craving the nutrients to grow ears, claws, a new set of teeth, maybe a tail. With all the hand-to-hand combat he does, he must burn a lot of calories already. He goes to each meal eating three bowls of food goo, begging Hunk to make something with a lot of calcium because he’s so hungry. But once his body has stored up enough, the hunger disappears. He starts to feel nauseated. Who knows what a Galra diet entails, but it’s certainly not food goo.

Imagine him waking up to find that his body is itching from starting to sprout a fine layer of purple hair. He tries to shave it off his face, but it grows back by the end of the day (I mean, come on, they have to have razors on the castleship. There’s no way all of them stay so cleanly shaven, even if you go to the extreme and only count Shiro and Coran growing facial hair).

As his ear biology shifts, his hearing goes out of commission for a while. He tries to read lips, and it works pretty well, but you can’t read lips over an intercom through the Lions. The same thing happens with his eyes. The corners of them start to turn yellow, and his vision blurs as his actual eye is changing.

His jaw would start to ache like getting wisdom teeth, except for his entire mouth, until one day while he’s brushing them in the morning, they start to fall out. Depending on how different Galra bone structure is, he could even be incapacitated for a few days. We never see what a Galra foot looks like, or if their skull structure is different for the ears. He might even grow to a more Galra height, making him even more hungry.

I imagine that he would stay vaguely human-like. He wouldn’t change into an Ulaz-looking Galra, but a much more human-looking Galra. Short for a Galra, tall for a human, and much more human facial features. He’d keep his iconic mullet (even it turned just a tad bit more purple), his gloves would accentuate the aesthetic of claws, he’d even be able to master the very annoyed Galra snarl with the sharp teeth poking out. He would still look like Keith.

To end on a happy note, imagine the entire Voltron team being there for him during this transformation. Hunk would make him the most nutrient-packed meals he can manage, making sure to blend them up into a smoothie so his teeth don’t hurt. Pidge would dive into the science behind it, and even though Keith doesn’t fully understand, it’s somewhat comforting to know that someone does. Lance would absolutely be the personal cheerleader, always talking about how cool it is to have a Galra on their team and all the advantages it brings. Shiro would not only be the King of Moral Support but also help with the physical aspects. He’d train with Keith every day to help him adjust to the new Galra body. Coran would spout the history of Galra before Zarkon started taking over the universe, telling him about their culture and all the good things about them. And after a long period of giving him the cold shoulder, Allura would finally apologize. She’d take great strides to mend the relationship, even going so far as to do research into where his mother may have gone because she knows what it’s like to lose parents. And while that’s not directly helping him with the physical pain, it’s giving him very good peace of mind.

TL;DR: If Keith is going to have a more Galra form, it would be a much more gradual and painful change than just *poof* Galra. And everyone, even Allura, would be happy to help him with it.

anonymous asked:

Hi River! Can you link us to some meta, analysis, commentary, or basic evidence of Sherlock being trans, particularly in BBC Sherlock? I just haven't really read anything in depth about this so I'm interested to know more. Thanks!

hey! i’m just going to compile my own list of things i’ve caught but you can certainly go to @marcelock‘s trans sherlock tag for more!!!

so firstly, most of the canonical evidence is in s3 and tab but i thought i’d start with something that caught my attention in the great game

here, sherlock is excitedly giving his deduction about the golem

and john, pressed about the earlier confrontation he had with sherlock about moriarty, and impatient, replies with this

which leads sherlock and lestrade to have these reactions:

now QUITE obviously sherlock and lestrade know something here that john does not. lestrade looks down and away immediately after john’s comment and sherlock looks at lestrade with a look which vehemently reads “don’t say anything, he doesn’t know” 

to me, this is an extremely obvious misgendering of sherlock that john does ignorantly and unintentionally because he honestly doesn’t know, and i can adhere to this personally because it has happened to me on multiple occasions 

now, throughout the next 10 minutes of the episode sherlock distances himself from john by telling him that they should split up to get more done, which isn’t an unusual occurrence but it is DEFINITELY unusual when john is doing something that only police should be doing (interviewing the dead man’s roommate) 

i see this as sherlock needing to distance himself from john for just a little while because of the earlier instance. he’s obviously not mad, just a bit upset and jarred but as you can see by the end of the episode everything between them is completely fine again

in s2 there isn’t much in the way of physical evidence like above, it’s more subtextual, in asib it is brought up at least twice that i can remember that sherlock is a virgin 

“sex doesn’t alarm me” “how would you know?” 

“he calls you the ice man and the virgin” 

this can be attested to that sherlock is just a genuinely awkward person and uncomfortable with contact as such but it can easily be read that because he is trans that he experienced and experiences body dysphoria which would lead to him not being comfortable with his own body, let alone allowing someone else to be with it so intimately 

“but what about top surgery scars?????” you may ask

not all trans people get double mastectomies!!! some of us don’t ever get surgery! but sherlock could have easily had the key hole operation which would not leave the double incisions on the chest that you see on many trans men 

sherlock having little to no body hair is also incredibly telling, as many trans men, even on testosterone, are unable to grow it and if they do it’s usually patchy

in both thob and the google maps of 221b, there is an injection gun sitting on the table

injection guns are used to inject medication accurately and frequently, and, sherlock constantly on the move for cases, would need to administer his testosterone quickly and efficiently

now, in The Trans Sherlock Show (s3) there is so much evidence that he’s trans it makes my head spin

the VERY first scene we see sherlock in, he has absolutely no facial hair, yet, the hair on his head is literally down to his shoulders

where did he find the time to shave yet not cut his hair??? he didn’t

sherlock was unable to have access to testosterone in the field for 2 years is what happened, so it stunted his facial hair growth 

there is literally no other explanation for this like

moving on to tsot

sherlock loves dancing and always has which isn’t that unusual for men anymore, but his love for dancing does not explain the fact that he can do a pirouette perfectly? he would have had to go through extensive training to complete such a move, and many parents put their “little girls” in dancing lessons

during the stag night and sherlock and john’s drinking game, sherlock drunkenly asks questions that john answers to validate him, not the person on his head

“am i human?”

“am i a man?”




“am i important?”

“do people like me?”

sherlock is obviously seeking validation from john, and he just wants to know what he is to people and how people see him

later in this scene sherlock also says “beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood influences and role models” which is a really… trans thing to say. he’s talking about beauty and looks but those are as performative as gender, gender is literally performing a look, how you want to be perceived and how you want others to perceive you

hlv now!!!

as a little aside and a line that i always laugh at anderson asks sherlock if he has “one hole or two” and sherlock abashedly says “sorry?!” and obviously they’re talking about the gunshot wound but it’s just a funny trans joke to me

anyway! “how can sherlock be trans if he is clearly a little boy in his mind palace!!!” sherlock can imagine himself however he wants in his mind palace folks and children are mostly androgynous in formative years so this could have been how he looked or he’s picturing himself as such

now the 2 hospital scenes, one with janine and the deleted scene with magnussen 

first the janine scene: 

“you lied to me, you lied and lied” 

“just once would have been nice”

sherlock, awkwardly, “i was waiting until we got married”

“you shouldn’t have lied to me, i know what kind of man you are. we could have been friends”

now this can be read as both a reveal of sherlock being gay AND trans

“but it can only be about him being gay!!!” you might say

then explain the magnussen scene:

magnussen, a man who blackmails people for money, is blackmailing sherlock about his “musician’s hands”

but this comment quickly turns into calling them “woman’s hands,” and sherlock looks at magnussen in fear - he knows his secret

this deleted scene completely explains sherlock’s vehemence toward mycroft near the end of hlv when mycroft asks sherlock why he hates magnussen so much

and finally the tarmac scene, when sherlock says “sherlock is actually a girl’s name”

this can be interpreted a couple of different ways in terms of him being trans

sherlock could be saying here that sherlock was his birthname and he wanted to keep it, but needed a masculine name on legal documents, hence william sherlock scott holmes, because sherlock is quite an androgynous unusual name

or, he could be saying that he was born a “girl,” and that his being carries along that sentiment even though he had chosen sherlock during his transition. either way, he’s literally saying he’s trans

onto tab, 

sherlock has no facial hair at all, yes he could be cleanly shaven, but as this is the 1890s hrt doesn’t exist yet so he wouldn’t be able to actually grow it

sherlock, perhaps having noticed, or not caring to notice because hooper is in the same predicament as him, has not said anything about the fact that hooper is, for lack of a better term, “a woman dressed in man’s clothing”

hooper could be a trans man just like sherlock, hence him not saying a single thing because he himself is trans as well and would not dare to out hooper


in the end scene, when sherlock tells john that he “would be very much at home in such a world” and that he’s always been a man out of his time, it’s fairly obvious that sherlock knows he could better himself in current day, that he could be the man he wanted with access to what he wanted in the 21st century (testosterone, surgery, etc) 

and finally after all of that! the big doozy of yesterday in which we all learned that sherlock literally leaves his t needles all over 221b! a major thank you to @sidryan for that!

anyway that’s all! sherlock is trans thanks for coming to my ted talk

#98- Shaving Kink (Jared x Jensen)

Requested by anon for my kink list (master list here).

Warning: shaving someone else’s face, smut

Word Count: 1150ish

A/N: Still new to writing this ship, hope y’all enjoy it! XOXO

Jensen wakes up to sunlight peeking around the edges of the curtains and an empty bed. The pillow next to him is still dented from Jared’s head, and there’s warm, damp air floating from the hotel bathroom.

Jensen stretches for a moment, then gets up and heads to the bathroom, not even bothering to grab his boxers from the pile of laundry on the floor. When he gets to the door, he stops and quietly leans against it, just watching. He’s already half-hard just from waking up, but it only takes a few seconds of this view to get him all the way there.

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Chaos in the Pantheon (Part 3)

((A/N: Another chapter! Hurray! I *promise* if you can get through this, it’s about to get real and maybe we’ll see some heroics. If you’re the type that doesn’t like build up… I apologize. But I wanted to introduce the gods and get a sense of who the reader is. Not everything is as simple as it may seem…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Ares) x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language! [it’s a joke, you’ll see] 

Catch up! Part 1// Part 2// ))

Clint couldn’t help but smirk at your eagerness, already realizing why the others had been so taken by you. Spirited would have been an insult as there was so much more going on. He understood the enamoring nature of who you were. He understood the impact you would have on a man like Ares so dedicated to his own cause. It made sense.

“Well, first things first, you need to talk to Poseidon. The man’s been so at odds with the other gods he’s neglected most of his duties. If you get him to stand down and assure him you’re working to resolve this, at least one of your main concerns will be dealt with.” There was a raised eyebrow by Clint, as if to turn on a lightbulb in your head. It was true that your family relied heavily on fishing as a source of income and general livelihood. It was also true that despite your father’s heavy dedication towards the worship of Poseidon, there had been almost nothing.

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Dazed and Distracted, Can’t You Tell? (Gaston x Reader)


Dazed and Distracted, Can’t You Tell? Part 8

@sebastianbride @animeacetheheart @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @hobbithorse19 @the-fic-files @epicfallenismine @gawston @molethemollie  @supernaturalimagines666 @blackxthexbeast @hellonheels-x0-blog @mochiiswan @amazingangelaaa @frozenhuntress67 @totallyjoshlertrash @withouthannah @lunarinne @bucky-with-the-metal-arm @sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt @theoncergames @ronijdubb @definitely-nota-fangirl@thenextdoorangel @daisiesflower

Part 1    2    3    4    5    6    7    

A courtship began not long after that night. It was done the proper way, Gaston woke bright an early in the morning, ready to take on the world with his dazzling smile and his best attitude. Dressed in his most formal attire, looking rather debonaire with his hair done perfectly and his face cleanly shaven, Gaston made his way into town that day without his friend. He chose the best bouquet he saw, a beautiful mix of wildflowers- not unlike the ones you’d picked for him all those lonely years- and sauntered his way to your home.

Smiling at everyone who he passed, it was no secret amongst the townfolk his intentions. They smiled knowingly as he rapt smartly at your door.

The next several months were filled with lavish gifts; flowers picked with you in mind, expensive chocolates bought from the master chocolatiers in Paris, lovely gowns commisioned with your figure and favourite colours in mind. Gaston was never a man of words, he was a man of action, so gifting seemed to come more naturally to him.

Due to propriety, you and he never traveled alone, so your escort became his war friend Lefou. The three of you would often go riding in the hills, finding new and adventurous spots to enjoy- where Lefou would then dismiss himself to allow you and Gaston your alone time, though this was of course never spoken about in town as that would create a scandal.

When fate allows you and he a moment alone Gaston would confide in you, just as he had in pen during the war. His ideal future hardly changed, except he would unconsciously say “we” and “our” instead of “I” and “mine” in reference to his future adventures. You never corrected him, just smiled and hoped he was right.

“Our cabin will be the most handsome in the village, of course!” He insisted one day as you and he reclined in the grass atop a hill. He proped himself on one forearm, his body facing you but his eyes to the sky, one hand gesturing wildly as he continued on. “I will build it, starting as soon as possible. I’ve actually been scouting out trees that would make handsome lumber, and I believe I need just two or three more before I am able to start!”

“What will it look like, Gaston?” You inquire, laying on your stomach, resting on cheek in your palm as you look to the daydreaming man. At your voice, his crystal blue eyes moved to yours, a smile growing on his face as he leaned down to brush his nose playfully against yours.

“However you’d like it, darling,” he crinkled his nose playfully before giving the tip of your nose a quick kiss. “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll make it. Your command is my request.”

Chuckling, you roll onto your back, one hand under your head as you gaze to the clouds. “Well, I want a big kitchen.”

“Of course,” Gaston muttered along, adjusting so all his attention was on you. Hands clasped before him, Gaston found himself smiling fondly in bliss.

“Yes, and I think a large dining area would be absolutely divine,” you continue, not noticing the expression your suitor was giving you. “I do enjoy entertaining, and what kind of host would I be if I didn’t have room for all the guests? Of course seperate rooms for the kids,”

“Seven rooms would be a lot of lumber,” Gaston teased, putting one hand under his head.

“You said anything I wanted, Monsouer Legume,” you responded in kind, looking to the handsome man to your side. “Not only that, imagine the terror it would be if all seven boys were in one room, I’m only one woman Gaston.”

With an overdramatic sigh, Gaston slumped. “Perhaps just four rooms then?”

“Seven, Gaston,” you insisted, “I’ll help build if I must.”

“I couldn’t do that to you!” Gaston gasped, taking one of your hands in his and kissing the tip of your index finger. “I could not imagine the pain it would cause me if these delicate hands got a splinter,” he kissed your next finger, “Or calloused by the work,” and then he kissed your ring finger. “These hands belong to an earth walking goddess, I, a mere man, shouldn’t even be graced by their splendor.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” you teased, taking your hand from his. “But if that be so, then you are, as you say, a mere man blessed by the presence of a goddess. Man falls surrender to a goddess, yes?”

Opening his mouth to protest, Gaston narrowed his eyes playfully at your sly smirk. “You devil woman!” He shouted in defeat. “You twisted my own words against me!”

“So my seven sons shall have their own rooms?” You ask, knowing the answer.

Taking a deep breath, but still smiling in defeat, Gaston chuckled. “It appears they shall, since their mother has outwitted me.”

Sitting up a bit, you pat him on the cheek. “Oh don’t worry darling,” you smile fondly at him. “This isn’t a singular occurrence, expect more in the days to come.”

Treat You Better

Pairing: ReaderXReid

Inspiration: Treat You Better by Shawn Mendes 

Lyrics: I started writing down the lyrics that inspired me to write this only to realize it was literally the entire song

Prompt: You’re in an abusive relationship and one day Spencer notices the bruises, well aware of where they came from, and pulls you off to the side to tell you how he really feels about you and how much better he could treat you.

Warnings: description of abusive relationship and bruises from being hit and slight swearing

A/N: I have never been in an abusive relationship so I can’t even imagine what it is like (that’s why I didn’t go into much detail when describing what had happened, I don’t feel as if I have the right to guess and make up something that is very real for others when I personally have never had to go through it), however if any of you are in an abusive situation right now please get help. I’ve left a number down below just in case…
Domestic Abuse Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233), or 1-800-787-3224 (TTY)

“Good morning sunshine.” Derek’s jolly, smooth, voice spoke to you the moment you entered the BAU office. You never understood how he could be so awake at 8am, let alone how he could be so nicely put together with his ironed shirt and cleanly shaven face. 

“Good morning Derek.” you giggled back, making your way down the steps towards your messy, case file covered desk. You dropped your bag onto the ground next to your chair and readjusted your shirt sleeve, making sure it covered your entire arm from shoulder to wrist.

Last night had been a bad night at you and your boyfriend of 6 months shared apartment, forcing you to wear long sleeves today even though the forecast called for 65-70 degree weather. 

You looked down at your desk for a moment, racking your brain for what case file it was that you had left off on the day before. You had no organizational system for your desk, a problem that you had tried to fix on many occasions, none of which seemed to help the mess of papers.

“File IA92G.” you heard a familiar voice ask from his desk next to you. You glanced over to see Spencer Reid looking at you, a small smile on his face.

“How do you seem to always know what I’m thinking.” you laughed, before returning your eyes to your desk and scanning the files until you saw the one that boy genius had just rattled off to you. You picked up the file and sat in your chair, opening the file only to see the half finished sentence you had wrote yesterday. “You are amazing.” you smiled, the surprise of Spencer remembering what file it was causing your eye brow to raise as you looked back up at him. 

“I’m actually not amazing, I simply have a good memory, I was tested for HSAMs as a child.” he informed (A/N: HSAMs is a rare disease people are born with in which they can remember everything that happened to them on every day of their lives, normally they can also remember things that happened in history, there is your fun fact of the day)

You couldn’t help but let your smile grow even more onto your face. Something about Spencer’s smile, something about his voice, something about the way he looked at you just always seemed to make you happy. Ever since you had met him on your first day with the BAU, he never failed to bring a smile to your face.

“Everyone, meeting in 5 minutes please.” Hotch’s voice suddenly spoke, breaking your train of thought. You glanced at Hotch as he walked in between the desks towards his office, giving him a small smile when he looked at you. The smile was returned as always.

“Wonder what it’s about.” you spoke towards Reid once Hotch disappeared into his office. You grabbed a hair tie off your desk and brought a fist full of your hair up into a rather sloppy bun, not caring what it looked like, only caring that it would make you stop sweating from beginning to overheat in your long sleeve shirt.

“Most likely a case, I believe Penelope was telling Derek about a group of missing kids in-” you heard Spencer’s voice trail off suddenly.

Originally posted by bau-obsessed

When you looked at him to see what the reason for his silencing was you saw his eyes glued to your neck. You only then remembered the bruise on the side of your neck that had come from your boyfriend’s hand wrapping around it the night before. You quickly brought your own hand up to the tender spot in attempt to hide the purple marks, however the damage had already been done.

“(Y/N)-” Spencer began only to have you cut him off.

“I’m fine.” you responded, causing him to clench his jaw and take in a deep breath through his nostrils.

“May I speak to you out in the hall?” he asked before standing up and walking towards the door, not even waiting for your response, knowing if he gave you a chance to answer the answer would be no. 

You sighed and stood up, following him from a distance. He knew about your boyfriend and the abuse, not because you had told him but because he was a genius who observed everything about everyone. He had never directly confronted you about it until now however.

“Did he do that to you?” Spencer asked in a low voice once you were both in the hallway. You looked at the ground, unable to look him in his eyes, fearing the look he had. “Answer me.” he spoke again after a moment of your silence, this time his voice more dominant.

“Yes.” you responded, still not looking at him. 

“He’s not right for you (Y/N).” Spencer said after another moment of quiet, as if it took him a second for his brain to process the simple word and all the weight it carried. “And you can tell me that I’m wrong but I can see it in your face, you know it too.”

“Spencer, can we please not talk about this.” you asked, finally breaking eye contact with the floor and instead looking directly at the man who stood in front of you.

“No, we can’t.” he responded. “You’re spending all this time in the wrong situation and that jack ass doesn’t even deserve you.” you listened as a controlled anger began to fill his voice. “Hell, I don’t even deserve you, but I know I sure as hell would treat you better, and I also know that I sure as hell love you more than he does.”

You looked at Spencer, now his own eyes darting to the ground as if by not looking at you it would make what he had just said disappear.

“You two, we gotta meeting to go to.” Derek’s voice suddenly broke, sticking his head out into the hallway. You glanced over your shoulder at him and nodded, prompting his head to disappear back into the office, leaving you and Spencer in the silent hallway again.

You opened your mouth to say something, however your voice was cut off by Spencer walking past you.

“We have a meeting.” his voice spoke, his eyes still glued to the ground.

“Spence.” you said quietly, however it was too late. He was already in the office.

Steve Harrington Saves The World

Both inspired by and written for @ghost-grantaire — babe, you’re my hero. This one’s for you (that’s two Ferris Bueller references in one dedication, clearly you’re pretty special). 

Us and them,

After all we’re only ordinary men

In his young life, Steve Harrington’s future was changed in the smallest of ways. It happened like this: hope (I’m gonna be just like you), dissatisfaction (you’re gonna be just like your old man some day), youth (you can do better than that you son of a bitch), realisation (go home), love (how many is a crowd, really), heartbreak (It’s over), and acceptance (I’m exactly fucking like him).

When he was young, his father would look down at him and frown, like he was confused about what species Steve was, and for so long, it mattered. It mattered because all Steve wanted to do was please him, to get his father to understand him. It was everything. Until it wasn’t.

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Oh my, God!

Pairing: Chuck x Reader

Requested: Anonymous asked - are you able to write a chuck x reader when reader is finally introduced to God by the Winchesters and reader blurts out loud that he’s sexy or some shit and maybe chuck starts to flirt with them? :D xx

Warning: swearing, mind reading, dirty talk, fluff

Words: 1,350

A/N: This takes place kind of with S11E21 “All in the Family.” Just after Chuck teleports the boys back to the Bunker and before they save Casifer. None of this will probably even fit in with the episode, but just go with it. 

Also, I’m just going to make Reader a Winchester, because it was easier to write it that way. Plus, I became lazy towards the end, so sorry if it’s shit :( 

Originally posted by pure-lucifer

The starting of Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters played in the background, silencing the rumble of the Impala’s engine. You hands absentmindedly tapped against your thighs to the beat of the drum, the lyrics leaving your mouth as you sung along quietly. Your gaze was stuck on the passing of trees outside the window, your hearing trained on the music and blocking the quiet conversation that blossomed between your older brothers, Sam and Dean.

They both had picked you up from a hunt over in Manhattan. It had surprised you when you returned to your motel room to see the two brothers sitting on the edge of the bed. It confused you; you never thought you’d see them again – not for another few months at least. You had left them back in Lebanon to continue on hunting alone for a few months, in hopes of a break somewhere along the line.

Your confusion was soon settled and you seemed to get your break three weeks into hunting solo when the boys said that they had someone important for you to meet.

“Mind telling me who this important person is?” You’d ask. But your question was never answered. Instead, the two brothers continued to drive quickly back to Lebanon, where the so called important person awaited.

You were snapped out of your trance when the music stopped and Dean turned the engine off. You knew you were at the Bunker; you had been here multiple times. It wasn’t new to you. Sam was the first to get out and open the back door for you, allowing you to step out and stretch your aching muscles. Sam laughed at the small sound you made when you stretched, feeling your body ease with the release of tension.

Dean had already grabbed your bags and taken them to the guest room. Sam smiled at you before leading you through the bunker towards the Library, or as Dean liked to call it, the Batcave. You looked around the War Room, the main space, always amazed at how the building was still in mint condition. Your fingers grazed over the table that illuminated the world map.

God, I missed this place and it had only been three weeks since I was last here, you sighed at the thought.

“You hungry?” Sam asked, looking over at you.

You nodded in reply, walking into the Library. You ran your fingers along the tidy shelves that consisted of many books, becoming engrossed with the titles on each spine. Sam had obviously used his spare time to reorganize the book to a more orderly form.

As you sauntered across the room, you hadn’t noticed that Sam had return with your food and another person, until he coughed to grab your attention. You turned to look at him holding a plate of ham and salad sandwiches, before dropping your gaze to the man behind him. The man had facial hair that had slightly hidden his sculptured jaw, but you could tell he had a jaw that was sharp enough to cut. You held back a moan when he smiled politely at you, his grin making him twice as sexy as he already was.

“Y/N, this is Chuck,” Sam placed your food on the Library table.

You heard him speak, but didn’t bother to reply. Instead, you walked over the man, now named Chuck, and studied his appearance. He looked like a normal citizen, leaving you questioning why he was so important that they had to drag your ass back to Lebanon. Now that you were up close to him, you had noticed that he had bright blue eyes that were to die for.

Oh my, God! He’s hot, you gushed inwardly.

“Well, hello Chuck,” you smirked, “wouldn’t mind if I got your number, right?”

Chuck’s eyes widen as he glanced at Sam, but all Sam could do was attempt to hold in his laugh as he watched you flirt with the man in front of you. The man that you had no clue was God.

“I-I,” Chuck stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “okay.”

You noticed something move from behind Chuck and seen Dean bring his hand to his throat, gesturing at you to stop flirting with the poor man. He came closer and stood beside Chuck, smiling at him, before narrowing his eyes at you.

“Have some respect Y/N,” Dean retorted, earning a chuckle from Sam. Okay, who the fuck is this man?

“Am I not allowed to flirt with an incredibly hot man?” Y/N argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

You and Dean were now having a stare down as you both glared at each other. He could be so damn rude most times. And too protective. Utterly annoyed at your elder sibling, you rolled your eyes and looked back at Chuck. You smiled kindly at the man. Who had smiled in return.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate to flirt with God, Y/N,” Sam stifled another laugh.

You looked at Sam and then at Dean, before gawking at Chuck. Bullshit, you thought, this isn’t God! This man is someone who I would fuck the living shit out of if these two assholes weren’t here.

“He proved it, Y/N/N,” Dean spoke softly, “Kevin confirmed it.”

Your ears perked at the mention of Kevin. You had missed him like crazy. The both of you had grown close and eventually the best of friends. You both shared the same interests, and the feeling he brought when you were around him left you at ease. It made you sad just hearing his name, wanting nothing more than for him to be here again.

Glancing over at Dean, you had seen that he was already looking at you with sympathy. You hated when he looked at you like that.

“I don’t remember reading the part in the Bible stating that God was an attractive man,” you replied, putting on a smile to convince your brother that you were okay.  

Chuck, by now, was as red as a tomato. He kept hearing your thoughts, and wanted nothing more than to take you up on your offer. He had lived long enough on Earth to have experienced many things; dating men and women, having sex, doing things a normal human being would. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t at all an attractive woman. Because you were. You were beautiful.

“I’m not, honestly. But I-I,” Chuck blushed furiously, “I’ll take you up on your offer.”

This left the two brothers confused but you smirked when you realized that he could hear your thoughts. You could have fun with this. So, God, maybe you should shave your face so I have somewhere comfortable to sit tonight, you giggled, watching as a smirk appeared on his face at your thoughts.  

“I’ll see you later tonight, cleanly shaven,” he sauntered closer to you. Your breathing had hitched, as you could feel his breath from where he stood a couple of inches away from your body.

By now, the two men had caught on to your little game. Dean looking at you with disgust before yelling, “Are you fucking seriously praying dirty thoughts to God?” His statement had erupted laughs between you, Sam and Chuck. Dean continued to look at you with disgust, as he shook his head and walked out of the room.

Sam took that as his cue to leave as well, giving you a quick hug and a light kiss to the forehead before heading off to his room. You stayed put in front of Chuck, looking at him. He was looking back at you; a soft smile adorned his face.

“I guess I’ll see you later,” he chuckled, “be ready.”

I can’t believe I’m going to ride God’s face, you inwardly moaned at the image that flooded your mind.

“I can’t wait to have you on my face,” Chuck smirked before taking off towards his room, readying himself for the events that are to happen.

Fuck me, you thought, earning a shout from Chuck, “Later!”

This was going to be a long night. 

Part 2

Not an Option (Part One)

Pairing: Reader X Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock BBC)

Prompt: You are a private investigator and you get put on a case with the infamous Sherlock Holmes. While at first your high intellects clash and cause arguments, it isn’t long before you both begin to warm up to one another.

Warnings: Mention of a violent crime scene

A/N: A couple of you guys said you would be interested in a mini-series coming out of my little picture set imagine (Imagine you and Sherlock working together on a case and Sherlock begins to develop feelings for you), so here it is!

*I do not own these GIFs* *I do not own BBC Sherlock* *I do not own BBC Sherlock characters*

Introduction: The case was basic on the surface. A man was found murdered in his flat above the bakery he owned. His body was found at 8:37pm by a woman who he had been seeing for the past few months when she was coming over to his place for a date. She called the police and that was how the famous detective Sherlock Holmes was assigned to the case. She then called the man’s family and that was how you were assigned.

“How many times must I tell you, I do not need some idiotic private investigator with a beer gut and a ketchup stain on his shirt breathing down my neck.” Sherlock growled in annoyance as he made his way down the hallway and away from the crime scene he had just finished combing over. 

It was almost 9:20pm and for him and John the night had just begun. The case, while at first appearing to be boring to Sherlock, had proven itself otherwise. When the detective and his partner entered the crime scene the smell was the first thing they had both noticed. Sage. Then it was the cryptic message on the wall written in the victim’s blood. “Go Away”. Lastly, it was the man’s body. A unrecognizable symbol carved into his chest.

“And how many times have I told you, this is not an option. Whoever the hell this guy is the family of the victim hired him to help out.” Lestrade bickered back while following the two men down the dark hall. “And besides if they’re that frustrating for you to work with just ignore them, you already ignore half the things we say to you.”

“More than half.” Sherlock mumbled as his foot reached the stairs that went down into the bakery.

Due to your taxi having to take a detour you had only shown up at the crime scene ten minutes ago. You had been informed that the detective you would be working with had already come and was upstairs examining the flat that the murder had taken place in. Considering how much you hated working with others you had decided to situate yourself at the front desk of the bakery and begin your research of the man whose family had hired you. 

It was the stampede of feet coming down the wooden stairs that peeled your eyes away from the screen of your iPad. The blue light illuminated your face as you looked up right as three men came out of the stairwell. 

“You must be the detectives I’m supposed to work with.” you spoke in a calm voice from your spot at the front counter of the bakery. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” 

“Nice to meet you.” the shorter of the three men with gray hair stuttered slightly, as he walked over to you. He had a limp. He smiled as he stuck out his hand for you to shake. You placed your iPad down on the counter in front of you and stood up, gripping his hand firmly. 

Your father had always told you that a handshake was a fundamental piece in how a person would shape their first impression of you, especially in law enforcement. Police officers and detectives didn’t want to shake hands with a limp noodle and then have that limp noodle as their partner. Or at least that was what your father always said. 

“John Watson.” the man introduced before backing away and making room for the other man with gray hair to introduce himself.

“Greg Lestrade.” he smiled. He was blushing. Even in the dimly lit room you could see the red tone in his cheeks. Not many detectives or officers pictured a person like you when they thought of private investigator. Most of them imagined either an old guy from classic detective movies or a man with a ketchup stain on his shirt who was just trying to suck money out of people without doing anything. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” you introduced yourself back, shaking his outstretched hand as well. “I’m the private investigator the victim’s family has hired.” 

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Lestrade nodded. 

Your eyes then moved to the third man who was still standing silently at the base of the stares. He was fixated on his gloves. You watched as his hands worked together to pull the gloves up over each other. 

Lestrade must’ve noticed your look. 

“That’s Sherlock Holmes, he doesn’t have a conscience or any understanding of what socially acceptable things are so don’t get offended if he says something rude.” Lestrade warned as if that was a disclaimer he gave to almost everyone who had to work with the mysterious man.

“You’re a bit of a try hard aren’t you?” Sherlock suddenly said as if on queue.

“Like that.” Lestrade sighed, bringing his hand up to his face and rubbing his eyes. 

“Sherlock, play nice.” John warned. He glanced at you briefly only to see that a small smile had curled onto your face.

“And what makes you say that Mr. Holmes?” you questioned, crossing your arms and leaning your weight back on the counter. His question didn’t offend you. It intrigued you. 

“Your hair is brushed, your wearing a freshly cleaned blouse and ironed pants, your heels are new and although they’re clearly a knock off brand you still paid a good amount for them.” he began. He finally looked up at you as he continued. “Your lipstick compliments your skin tone perfectly, your makeup is fresh which means you put it on when you found out about the case. You only recently arrived at the crime scene and you immediately got to work while most women would make small talk with the police officers or at least be curious enough to walk upstairs and see who they are working the case with. You want to make a good impression on the family that hired you by doing good work but yet you also want to make a good impression on me by making sure your appearance is acceptable by social standards.” he finished. 

You could see in your peripheral vision John and Lestrade rubbing their hands on their heads in embarrassment, as if their child had just vomited in the middle of the grocery store aisle. 

“You’re right, I am a try hard.” you chuckled after several drawn out moments of silence. You pushed your body off of the counter and walked up to Sherlock, stopping once you were a few feet from him. “So what’s your reasoning?”

“Excuse me?” Sherlock asked, furrowing his eyebrow slightly in confusion.

“You’re cleanly shaven and it’s almost 9:30 at night. You’ve showered within the hour considering that your hair’s wet and it hasn’t rain in London for almost a week.” you began. Now it was your turn. “You took a mint to hide your coffee breath. And you’re just as guilty as me on the freshly cleaned shirt and ironed pants front. So if I’m a try hard than what’s your excuse for pulling your appearance together so much tonight? Maybe you’re a try hard too but considering the way you talk to people I’m assuming you know your ten times smarter and you also know that you don’t have to impress anyone.” you finished. 

The bakery went into silence once again as you and Sherlock kept your eyes locked on one another. After a minute of him not saying anything back you turned and grabbed your iPad before placing it into your bag and throwing it over your shoulder.

You noticed that John and Lestrade were looking at you with their mouths wide open. It was clear that no one had ever deduced Sherlock. 

“I’ll get a taxi.” you chuckled, laughing at the expression on the men’s faces before you exited from the bakery, the bell on the door jingling as it opened and closed. 

“I have a feeling she won’t be breathing down your neck.” John spoke after a moment of him and Lestrade starring blankly at Sherlock. However, Sherlock wasn’t looking back at them. His eyes were fixated on your figure through the glass window.

“I have a feeling he might want her too.” Lestrade whispered to John, noticing where Sherlock’s eyes were looking.

Far from Innocent

Jasper X Reader

Request? Yes:

can u do a jasper smut thats like hella kinky with daddy babygirl type shit and light choking and biting where hes super dom omg im screaming just imagining this

It’s been an entire week since you’ve been able to actually spend time with Jasper. He’s been so engrossed in learning more about Mount Weather and the people living here that you’ve hardly even seen him. He usually passes out as soon as he lays down in bed, and then is gone by the time you wake up. Even though you have friends to talk to and new things to learn, you’ve been starting to feel quite lonely.

“Hey, baby.” You glance up, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. You set your fork down, pancakes forgotten as your eyes scan the familiar face. He looks very different, though.

“Hi.” You study the new look, eyebrows drawn together. His hair has been trimmed, face cleanly shaven. His shirt is freshly pressed, your sure, and his pants must be a size too big, cinched at the waist with a belt. “You look… clean.” You don’t know how else to comment without sounding offensive.

“Yeah, Dante gave me some new clothes.” He pulls out the chair beside you and sits, lips pressing briefly to your temple before he picks up your fork. You lean back as he digs into your breakfast, watching him thoughtfully. You’re not sure if you like this Jasper.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What about a cocky and flirty Bucky but really shy when you flirt back headcanon?

He’d been eye-fucking you all night.

It was something you were used to–one of the hazards of working in a bar filled with drunk men. Though this one was different from the rest. He wasn’t falling off his stool or making lewd gestures towards you. He hadn’t tried to slap your ass as you walked by, or wolf-whistled from across the room. No, this guy had class. His hair was neatly combed back. His face was cleanly shaven. His clothes were clean and fit him nicely. 

You weren’t the only one to notice. The other waitresses had vanished to the bathroom at some point during the evening, only to return with freshly applied lipstick, primped hair, and a bit more cleavage than before. With each trip to the restroom, the tension between them grew thicker, and there was an unspoken contest going on of “who’s going to go home with this guy tonight”. 

You decided to just stay out of it. You were relatively new to the joint, and you didn’t want to risk getting on anyone’s bad side. So you settled for watching him at a safe distance. And he watched you right back, breaking eye contact only to speak with whichever girl was taking her turn approaching him. It was sort of amusing, really. They all strutted over with their chests puffed out and a confident smile, only to be reduced to a giggling mess within a few minutes of talking to him. 

It didn’t take long to learn that his name was Bucky, and that everybody had been too focused on him to bother getting the name of his scrawny companion.

One by one they approached him, and they were all greeted with that same smile that seemed to make his jawline look even better than it already did. And then he’d go back to fucking you hard with those cloudy blue eyes of his. It was getting harder to resist. 

The straw that broke the camel’s back was Dolores, who was proudly informing everyone that he’d immediately given her the nickname of  “Dot”. You rolled your eyes. Everyone called her Dot. 

“And after he called me Dot, he told me that his name was short for Buchanan,” she gushed. You frowned. 

“He told me his name was James,” another one of the girls grumbled, offended that she was given a fake name.

“No, James is his first name. Buchanan is his middle name. His friend gave him the nickname Bucky,” Dolores–Dot, continued to brag. “James Buchanan,‘Bucky’ Barnes.”

“What was his friend’s name?” you asked suddenly. Nobody responded. “Really? None of you know? None of you bothered to ask?” Again. No response. You rolled your eyes again. Bucky slipped away from your mind as you began to think of his poor friend. No wonder he’d looked so miserable all night. 

Before you knew it, you were marching over to their table. Steve. His name was Steve, and he was even scrawnier up close than he was far away. But he was interrupted by the infamous Bucky. 

“I was wondering when you’d come over,” he began. Oh god. His voice. Smooth and velvety and dripping with years of practiced charm. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all night. Just ask Steve, here.” 

This was the part where the girls turned to mush, and in all honesty, it was a little tricky for you to keep it together, yourself, but you did. It took a lot of willpower. But you did. 

“I believe you,” you replied. Your voice was more of a purr than anything else. You didn’t know you were capable of that. “You’re pretty obvious, you know. Tell me, do I look good naked?” 

He blinked and choked on his drink a bit. You’d caught him off guard, and god, was it satisfying. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been undressing me with your eyes all night. So tell me. How do I look? Because I gotta say, from what I’ve seen, you have quite the body.”

“Oh, I…uh…thank you,” he mumbled and shifted around. It was clear that he was frantically looking for something witty to fire back with, but you didn’t expect much from the way his cheeks were turning pink as he nervously ran a hand down his face. It was adorable. 

Steve burst into laughter, and borrowed your pen to scribble out a phone number on his napkin. “I think this is what he meant to say,” he grinned and handed it to you. 

As you walked off, feeling an incredible sense of victory you heard one last snippet of a conversation. 

“Now that is something I never thought I’d see.”

“Just shut up, Steve.” 

Runaway Part 2

Sister Winchester - Runaway Part 2

Pairings: Sam Winchester x Sister Reader, Dean Winchester x Sister Reader

Y/N = Your Name

Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour

Word Count: 2574

Episode Inspo: What is and What Should Never Be: Season 2, Episode 20

Warnings: just one death of a monster

Summary: You save Sam and Dean’s asses once again by absolute coincidence of being at the right place at the right time. As a result you can finally return home

A/N: SORRY IF I SPELT DIJINN INCORRECTLY, I wasn’t to sure of how exactly to spell it hehehe. Other than that this one is a bit of a long one and I hope I did an alright job just seeing how many of you guys liked the original. You can thank  spacelordofallthingsspacey for asking me for continuing the story and helping me have some idea where to take it in part 2. I might not be writing for a while because I will be busy with exam revision and exams. However I promise i’ll jump writing another asap. Love you all, sorry for my rookie writing and grammar skills. xx 


Originally posted by deep-abidinglove


You gripped the blood tipped knife in your clenched fist as you stalked towards the large abandoned warehouse. Like usual, people had been disappearing. It wasn’t werewolves, shifters, demons or vampires in this town but rather a dijinn that was responsible for the kidnappings. Thus why you were approaching the warehouse, where they the dijinn was likely to be hiding. 

You pushed the heavy door open, as it’s rusty and discoloured latches squeaked in protest. You silently stepped through the small opening and creeped into the dijinn’s lair alone. But that was fine because you did everything alone as you didn’t have anybody else. Being a Runaway had its ups and downs. You enjoyed the freedom of your independence but you missed the company, especially of your brothers. You wondered about them as you wandered through the halls. You were in fact wearing Sammy’s flannel which you stole. His smell had disappointingly left the fabric fibres and was masked by your own. The same went for the top of Dean’s which you also took. The musky smell of gun powder and whiskey had left and so was some of your memories of them. Not in large ways, but more in the ways you forget the sound of loved one’s voice or their laugh in the morning. You had just passed the three-year mark of not seeing your brothers, making you now 19. Sometimes you wished you had turned around and ran back to them or just stayed in the first place. At the end of the day you knew it was the right choice for you to become a Runaway.
You pushed through one last door to find a large open room with high ceilings. On the far side of the room you recognised five of the missing persons from their photos and quickly ran to remove the needles from their necks as well as cutting them loose from their restraints. You worked down the line of victims, gently laying them on the ground when you were done. You got to the sixth victim and lifted his drooping head up to remove the needle lodged in his neck, but instead you gasped and fell to your knees in shock when you recognised him, not from the missing persons’ photos but from your own past.

*Sam’s POV*

Sam sits with his peers who also wear black scholar robes with matching graduation hats. The sky is a surreal blue and the lawn was immaculately green and trimmed. His peers sit up straight as the names of their cohort are read out to the applauding crowd. From Anderson to Brown to Clarke the list of last names file down alphabetically before reaching Williams, Wilson and finally Winchester. Jess grins widely in pride as she leans over and gives Sam a quick kiss. Their hands meet and Sam’s thumb rubs over the silver engagement ring which lays on her dainty fingers. Pulling himself away from his fiancé, Sam stands and shuffles through the pews of his peers before walking to the stage and up the small flight of stairs. This moment of happiness and pride marks his features as he shakes hands with the Headmaster and receives his diploma with honours. He looks out into the crowd and spots his over enthusiastic and sharp looking family. Dean’s hair is combed and he is also cleanly shaven. Dean’s eyes twinkle as he claps proudly at his brother’s achievements. Sam couldn’t help but notice how nicely he brushed up as he wore a pair of chinos and a navy jacket, over an iron blue plaid shirt and tie. Next to him, Mary smiles behind her camera whilst taking a photo of Sam receiving his diploma before waving proudly at her youngest boy. John’s arm is draped around Mary’s shoulders as he too waves and cheers at his son. Lastly Sam’s meets your dazzling Y/E/C eyes as you stand next to your father. You whistle, clap and cheer whilst wearing a flowy white dress with your hair down and held back with a headband, something Sam never thought he’d see you wear but thought it looked lovely on you. Sam couldn’t have been happier in this moment. He had his whole family back safe and in support of him trying out the apple-pie life. He had his beautiful fiancé with him as well and now both were prestigious graduates of Harvard. Everything was perfect, everything was at peace. He looked back to his headmaster to be shocked when he saw a battered and bruised Dean standing in the distance. Dean’s mouth moved around silent words which couldn’t reach Sam as Dean waved his arms around in concern and warning. A chill ran up Sam’s spine as his eyes darted back to his family where the well dressed and proud Dean was still standing and continued to cheer in a rhythmic and continuous pattern. Sam’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he tried to come to some rational conclusion why there were two Dean’s at his graduation. It must be a trick of his mind, Sam thought, probably an imagination caused by the energy of the moment, he concluded nodding his head and centring himself with a steady breath. He turned his head back to where the battered Dean had been thinking he would have now disappeared, but that wasn’t the case. Dean was still standing with sad eyes and a pale complexion. Next thing Sam felt was as if he had been pulled backwards by some unknown body or force. But when he hit the supposedly solid stage he fell through it as it was tissue paper.

Through the darkness Sam wakes up with his head resting on the counter of a familiar motel room. He lifts his head as paper’s stick to his sweaty face to see Dean’s concerned face staring ahead, “Dean I just had the weirdest dream-“

“I’m sorry Dad I didn’t mean to… I just wasn’t thinking… I didn’t want to see you get hurt.” Sam saw as your 16-year-old self, followed theirfather into the living room of the rented motel room. Before John turned on his heel to face you, “You do as I say Y/N. Always. When I tell you to hide, you hide not jump out of your spot and play bait! Are you stupid? Taking on three vamps is way out of your skill level. If your brothers didn’t catch up to you, you would have been dead meat, you understand?”. Sam remembered that hunt and how well you performed. He was so proud with your natural talent. You had definitely saved your Dad’s, Sam’s and Dean’s asses on that hunt.

“Oh my God!…Sammy? Sammy!…Sammy wake up!…please c’mon please…I can’t lose you like this, not when I just found you again” a disembodied pleading voice which Sam recognised belonging to you, echoed around the memory and made Sam jump in his seat. The voice was older and deeper, a little broken and it choked up when it said Sam’s name. But even in the intense atmosphere of the motel room, the voice didn’t seem to affect you, John or Dad. The memory continued as before of you fighting with your father when it was interrupted again by your disembodied voice, “Please Sammy…Please wake up… alright this is going to hurt, sorry Sammy”. John swung his arm back before thrusting it forward and slapping the younger version of you in the face as Sam felt the same sharp snapping sting lace his face as well. Sam fell through the pain and into the darkness once again as he felt his now hot cheek. He knew he had landed in a new place once again but this time he felt so drained and weak. Sam’s eyes were heavy when he heard your voice again, “Sammy? Oh thank goodness, that worked, it’s okay I got you now. Just try and stay awake I’ll get you home soon…Sammy it’s me, Y/N… I got you now”. Through Sam’s numb mind, he thought that your voice seemed a little clearer than last time. As if it wasn’t being spoken through a glass window anymore but rather as if you were right in front of him. Sam didn’t want to accept the newest stage in his dream in this new landscape. You had always been his greatest weakness and he thought he would surely break if he accepted you were there just for you to be pulled from your side for a second time. However, he willed his eyes open and a concerned image of you swam in his vision.
Your eyes searched Sam’s in disbelief. What were the odds, of all the towns to be in, of all the monsters, of all the hunts you could be on, it had to be the one which allowed you to save your brother just in time. A loud crashing and commotion came from behind you as you saw Sam’s eyes bulged as the reflection of the dijinn responsible in Sam’s state appeared in his eyes. With an almighty force, you were hit away from Sam’s side by the dijinn. You slid across the concrete flooring and stopped when you crashed into some metal shelving. You bring one hand up to wipe the blood seeping from you busted lip as your eyes pan the room and stops when you spot an unconscious battered and bruised Dean lying face down on the floor. Fury crashed over you, running from your brain to each nerve in your body. You felt electric like the night in the hotel room, “How dare you raise a hand to my brothers…If you lay a hand on me or them ever again and I’ll make damn sure it’s the last thing you do.”, you warned the dijinn. Sam watched in fear as the dijinn just cocked his head a smirked before launching himself at you. You gripped the blade strongly as you pushed the leaping dijinn to the ground before stabbing the blade through it’s skin. A couple electric blue flashes fade until nothing as the dijinn’s heart stops.

You loosen your grip on the blade and pull your hand away from it. The blade stays in its position like the time you had stabbed the knife into the counter top between your father’s fingers. You then sprinted towards the lying Dean and turned him over so he laid on his back. You lightly shook him, “Dean-o, Hey can you hear me?”. Dean was pale and grimy much like Sam. Dean must have figured out that the two of them were under the dijinn’s control and somehow woken himself up. It looks like he was the cause of the crashed from the commotion before as he tried to take on the dijinn in his incredibly weak state. Dean’s eyes fluttered lazily open as you watched the green orbs focus on you Y/E/C ones. Shock spread over his face when he recognised you, creasing his forehead, “Y/N?” Dean voice quaked, he didn’t want to get his hopes up if it wasn’t you. “Who else would save both your asses for a second time” you chuckled in response. You couldn’t believe you had found your brothers again. You had missed them from the minute you had left that night. You knew your paths would cross again and you were so glad that they finally did. Dean’s head rested back on the ground as he sighed and chuckled in relief. Then uncharacteristically and surprisingly his emotions changed and he brought a hand up to cover his eyes as he pressed his lips into a hard line to stop them from wobbling. The tears ran down the corner of Dean’s eyes and collected the dirt littering his face as the sobs started to escape out his throat. You couldn’t help the tears as they welled and fell from your own eyes. You cried because you were so happy to find your own brothers but also from seeing Dean in pain. Hearing your sobs, Dean pushed himself up from the ground and onto his knees. He enveloped you in his hurried and strong embrace. You hid your face in the nook of Dean’s neck and inhaled that familiar scent that you had missed for so long. Dean held you like he thought you were going to slip from him again. Dean’s hand held the back of your head and patted it soothingly whilst pressing kisses into the side of your head. He never wanted to let you go, he had been away from you for too long to let that happen again. You leaned back and grasped Dean’s face with two of your soft hands as you smiled widely with tears streaming down your cheeks. You just stared at each in disbelief and laughed at good fortune in this fateful reunion. Finally, you pulled away from Dean and stood to diel 911. Afterwards you retrieved your knife and disposed of the dijinn’s body, the sound of sirens just started to be heard. Paramedics lifted the victims onto stretchers and out of the warehouse. You followed Sam and Dean being carried away and held their hands tightly as they continued to stare at you in disbelief that you were there.
With fluids given and their gashes cleaned and sewed up, you helped your brothers into the impala. Dean shouted shotgun first so that’s where you placed him in the car. You fussed around and made sure he was comfortable. A groggy and drugged up Dean responded with a simple thankyou smiling with heavy eyelids as he gripped your hand tightly.
Then you guided Sam over to the car and laid him in the back seats. His long legs remained bent but you also tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Whilst you placed a pillow behind his head,  Sam looked at you intensely with puppy dog eyes, as if he couldn’t believe you were real still. It made you feel self-conscious, “What are you staring at” you chuckled concerned as you tucked a blanket corner around one side of Sam. Sam’s eyebrows knitted, “I’m trying to take as much of you in before I fall backwards again”, Sammy sighed, “The dreams I keep having have a pattern, just as everything is peaceful and perfect I’m taken away and fall into darkness.” Sam was high on pain killers but you could tell he was still struggling with this internal conflict, “Sammy” you sighed,
“I can assure you this isn’t a dream anymore, I killed the dijinn responsible” you soothed reaching over Sam to tuck the other corner of the blanket around his waist, “Please Sammy you know I’ll always be there to save your ass and catch you before you fall.” You smiled. Sam processed this and sighed in relief resting his head back and smiling knowing you were righ, “You better stick around then”. You smiled and leant over and placed a light kiss on Sam’s forehead, “Well I think I will have to seeing you boys always run into trouble.” The three of you laughed as you slid into the driver’s seat, “Let’s go home” Dean huffed as you pulled away from the curb. You had spent years trying to find or create a home for yourself but now as the pair of your brothers slipped into a slumber you couldn’t help but smile finally knowing you had returned home once again.

Voice of Reason

Dedicated To: @pleasecallmecaptain because it was her birthday and this is the only gift I can give her besides my undying love and friendship (and yes, I told her happy birthday at a little after midnight yesterday, squad was on top of it).

Request(s): Can you write a fic with Pre-serum! Steve where the reader is shorter than him and they always see each other at the park so one day he asks her if they want to hangout [didn’t quite follow this, but it was along the lines]

Reader is best friends with bucky and likes steve and steve likes her but he thinks that because she is constantly around bucky that she likes buck and not interested in him [to keep an element of surprise i am cutting these off]

Pairing: Pre-Serum!Steve x Reader

Warnings: Explicit Language, Smoking, Mild Sexual Reference, and Some Suggestive Themes.

Word Count: 4k+

A/N: I tried so hard to post this before midnight, but the quality of this fic makes up for it. Enjoy! x. T

Your name: submit What is this?

Brooklyn, New York  | 1936

.   .   .


           “You saw how fast I clocked that guy, Y/N!” Bucky exclaimed, demonstrating with a quick jab at the air with a skillfully curled fist. He slightly turned to you and grinned. “Didn’t even make it to Round Two.”

           You laughed at Bucky’s enthusiasm over his boxing match and remarked, “You did get him pretty good, Bucky. Except, I think he got your ribs a couple of times…”

           Bucky returned to walking to your left and he adjusted his bag on his shoulder, snorting at your words. He brushed back his sweaty hair and slung an arm around you, tugging you into his good side to playfully bite your shoulder. You batted him away and wrinkled your nose at the pungent smell of sweat and masculinity clinging to him, Bucky only chuckling at your actions.

           “I’m telling Steve to run a bath when we get back to your apartment.”

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When you least expect it - Part 6: Family Matters

Characters (AU: first names are as in the show renaming a few last names to fit my story): Reader (Y/N Mills), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, Jo Harvelle Singer, Castiel Harvelle Singer, Hannah Singer,  Ellen Harvelle Singer, Mary Winchester, Claire Singer, Ben Braeden, Lisa Braeden (mentioned)

Pairings: Reader/Dean

Warnings: angst, fluff overload, lots of implied smut, hmm not sure what else just read it guys.

Wordcount: 4000ish (again a little long but shorter than last time ;))

A/N: This is my newest series. It is a Mechanic!Dean AU and it is mostly written from the readers POV but it will have a few from Dean’s as well. It is an emotional rollercoaster so consider yourselves warned. It will have smut, fluff and angst. It will get pretty dark at some point too.

This chapter: Dean and Y/N’s relationship is moving forward, but Dean comes with a big package. His family. 

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Tagging: If you want to be tagged let me know and I will do my best to remember! @blacktithe7 @ashleymalfoy @harley7509 @dear-claudia @ohmydean @faith-in-dean @beautifulfound @whovianwholikesgirls @ilostmyshoe-79 @deanreaderreblog  @k20wn @lilyoflothlorien @phoenixia67 @torn-and-frayed and @hermitsofthewhoniverse


You felt the morning light hit your face as you slowly started to come too. You stretched your limps slightly before turning around to face him. You smiled as you watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful and perfect. You studied every line of his face. The curve of his lips and the way his eyelashes curled slightly. The freckles that were splashed over his nose and eyelids. You smiled as you noticed a few lighter ones on his forehead and then on his shoulder and arm he was resting above the covers. It was all you could do not to reach out and touch him. To try and count them. Finally you gave in and your fingers gently started to trace the ones on his arm up to his shoulder.

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(Not) Strictly Work (Part 2)

Warnings: none
Rating: everyone
Summary: Chris’s girlfriend (the reader) is a part of a popular TV series. And when Chris is away filming he binge watches her show, and his cast mates tease him about it (as requested by anonymous)
Y/N = your name
Previous Part

(Chris’ POV)
It’s been 7 months since Y/N and I first met. We saw each other all the time on and off the set of Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D. We had a lot of fun together, so I asked her out on a date, which was quickly followed by many more. I’ve always had this feeling of devotion towards our relationship, even more so now than ever. I’ve not seen her for a month and a half. It’s hard, not being able to see the one you love.

I’m working on a new movie (as is she), and we call and text as much as we can, but it’s just not the same. I want to be able to hug her tightly, take in her scent, touch her…but I can’t. This has to go on for another 2 months until I finish my movie. I don’t even know how I’m going to be able to cope. It’s quite simple, I just can’t. We’re so attracted towards each other; we share a special bond, some might call it unhealthy. That’s what love is, though, right?

She’s occupied with work today so we can’t call. Today’s my day off, so lounging around the hotel suite I’m staying in is my only way of getting her off of my mind. Minutes later, I find myself lying on the couch with a pack of microwave popcorn in my arms and putting on season 1 of Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D on Netflix. Seeing her through a screen is probably the best I can get right now.

Look! Look! There she is! My beautiful, sweet angel…She’s a fucking goddess to put it lightly. Here I am, stuffing my mouth with microwave popcorn, binge watching my girlfriend’s show, only to find myself even more longing for her touch. I can’t help but carry on watching more than half of the first season.

Then, I hear banging on the hotel room door. Annoyed that I have to stop seeing her face and pause the episode, I get up and open the door to be greeted by Sebastian and Anthony.

“Heeeeeey,” Anthony said, walking right on in and slipping out of his coat.

“What’s up, man?” Sebastian asked before he followed suit.

I mumble a simple “hey, guys,” before following them into the mini living room of the suite.

“Duuuuuude,” Sebastian laughed, noticing the TV.

“Aw, you missin’ someone special?” Anthony commented.

“Shut up,” I said, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV.

“How are you coping so far?” Sebastian persisted, but then turned to Anthony and said, “poor thing can’t even get any when he’s away from his girl.”

They laughed but then Anthony’s facial expression turned serious. “Unless…”

“We could…y'know…take him out…” Sebastian said, as if reading Anthony’s mind.

“Guys. No. If you’re gonna fool around and persuade me to hook up with some random girl, then leave because I’m totally not in the mood for it,” I instructed, my arm outstretched and gesturing to the door.

“Hey man, chill out. We’re just kiddin’ around. We know how you’re feelin’, we’re just teasin’ you. But seriously, binge watching your girl’s show? C'mon man, you need to loosen up a little.” Anthony reasoned, Sebastian nodding in agreement.

“But I just…miss her,” I argued.

“Think about her some other time, let’s go have some fun,” Sebastian said, turning me around from my shoulders and pushing me playfully towards the door. Sighing, I grabbed my socks and shoved them onto my feet before slipping them into my shoes.

“Let’s go to a bar,” Anthony suggested as we three walked down the hall to the elevator.

“Okay,” I said, pressing the button.

On our trip to the bar I was mostly silent, only speaking when I had to answer. We’d sat down at a table, and we were drinking beer. Sebastian broke the silence; “Dude, what’s wrong? You seem so down lately. Is it Y/N?”

I hesitated, I’d seem like such an ass to admit that I was missing my girlfriend THAT much. But…maybe they could help me? “Yeah,” I practically whispered.

“Chris…relax a little. You’ll see her soon, it’ll be over before you know it.” Anthony said. I knew they were right, maybe I am over reacting a little.

*Time skip to a week later*

Someone was pounding on the hotel room door; it sounded urgent. “Chris! Chris! Open the door! You’re gonna wanna see this!” Anthony shouted from behind the door, his voice muffled. I’d just finished shaving and cleaning myself up in the bathroom, so while dabbing at my cleanly shaven face with a towel, I opened the door.

“You are NOT gonna believe what we did for you-” Sebastian said, a smile plastered on his face.

“I personally think you owe us, BIG TIME.” Anthony cut in.

“What?” I asked, confused. They both smiled and Sebastian reached both hands to his left and out of my view, before pulling her in front of him and towards me.

There she stood, smiling, a piece of luggage in her arms. I was surprised, but that was quickly taken over by joy. She dropped the bag and I lunged forward, hugging her tightly, resting my head on her shoulder and taking in her scent.
“Y/N,” I whispered, breathing out the breath that I didn’t even know I was holding in.

“Chris,” she mumbled into my chest, exasperated.

“I missed you so, so much,” I confessed into her ear.

“Me too, baby, me too,” was her reply.

I pressed my forehead to her’s, and was about to kiss her soft lips when Anthony interrupted our moment by clearing his throat. “Excuse us, we’ll just go now,” he said before yelling goodbye and slamming the door shut. We returned to our position and I cupped her face with my hands. “Where were we?” I asked seductively.

“I think we were-” she cut herself off and pressed her lips to mine, kissing hungrily, but pulled away moments after before finishing her sentence, “round about there.”

I took very little time to focus on how she looked; her pupils had definitely enlarged, her hair was tousled and it fell around her face perfectly, her lips looked lusciously juicy…

“It’s been seven weeks…seven weeks that I haven’t been able to do anything… I’ve had to put up without you for more than 49 days…you don’t even realise how hard it was for me. I couldn’t disagree with Anthony and Sebastian’s idea…” She explained.

“Believe me honey, I know. I binge watched Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D and they wouldn’t stop teasing me ‘bout it…”

“Maybe we could make up for all that time we had to spend without each other tonight,” she suggested.

I scoffed, “tonight? I was thinking more like now. I’m not waiting any longer. Not now that you’re here with me.”

“Even better,” she replied before jumping, wrapping her legs around my waist and placing her hands on the back of my neck and kissing me roughly.

I definitely can admit that we made up for all that lost time.

In A Different Light

Here is my first entry for the Dean Winchester 7 Day AU Challenge! ! I know I’m a day behind, but that’s just because of who I am as a person. This story was partly inspired by the song “In A Different Light” by Doug Stone.

PROMPT: Dean Smith
CHARACTERS: Female reader, Claire Novak, Dean Smith, Zachariah Adler (mentioned)
WARNINGS: AU as suggested in season 4′s “It’s a Terrible Life”; workplace romance, secrets, smut, fluff

TAGS: @plaidandwhiskeydean​, @the-mrs-deanwinchester, @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog​, @mrswhozeewhatsis​, @aprofoundbondwithdean​, @mrs-squirrel-chester​, @fandommaniacx​, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid

Originally posted by dancewithmejensen

You sat at your desk, booting up your computer, setting an elbow on your desk and propping your head on your hand as you waited for the computer to come on. You yawned, leaning over to pick up your coffee, taking a long sip.

“Long night?”

You rolled your eyes, glancing at the girl who walked up to the cubicle beside yours. You smiled, and she bounced her eyebrows, and you let out a laugh.

“As if.”
“Oh, come on. You and mystery man totally got it on last night, didn’t you?”

You licked your lips, feeling your cheeks flush.

“Oh my god, you did! Tell me everything!”

You let out a laugh, and Claire scooted her chair closer, propping her chin on her hands, a big smile on her face. You shook your head.

“I am not telling you anything.”

You turned to your computer, typing in your log-in information, and Claire blew out a breath beside you.

“You’re so secretive. Is it because your boy toy is someone I know?”
“There’s no ‘boy toy.’”
“You’re a liar. There’s someone and he’s rocking your world on a damn daily basis, and you’re keeping all the good stuff to yourself.”
“Do you blame me?”

Claire sighed.

“No. Damn it.”

You laughed, both of you turning to your computers and getting started on your day. An hour and two empty cups of coffee later, you and Claire both looked up as the elevator dinged as the doors opened. You took in a quiet breath as your boss walked in.

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