currently: your bottle is empty (but your glass has been filled)

Random Trinket Table

Have you ever thought to yourself, “Man, I want something useless but mildly interesting that isn’t from the trinket table in the player’s handbook!” Well, you’re in luck. Because I love random, useless trinkets and I’ve created a list for all to use. Even though there are plenty of other random trinket tables out there, you can never really have too many. Am I right or…? Anyways. Table below the cut!

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To Become A Hunter [2]

Part 1

Characters: Sister!Winchester reader, John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Words: 3600+  

Warnings: Anxiousness, some violence, verbal abuse, a bit of a language, bad mental health, John’s A+ parenting, implied abuse. I know it looks like a lot, I’m just making sure. This is dark though.

A/N: Boom, part 2/3 (as it looks like right now). As I said, this fic has some darker themes, but there’s nothing too graphic I would say. Hope you like it. 

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction

Originally posted by harley-quinns

Your name: submit What is this?

Heart pounding. Head throbbing. Legs wobbly. Sight blurry. Body tired. And a fire burning inside your lungs, or at least that’s what it feels like.

The sun is about to reach it’s peak, in the middle of the sky, like the star on top of the christmas tree. It’s starting to get really warm as well, at least that’s what you think as you try to push forward, try to complete the task.

You have no idea where you are. You’re completely encircled by trees, that look exactly the same to you, except for ’the road’ that just never seemed to end. You briefly wondered if you even took the right direction, but you quickly concluded that it was unlikely that you didn’t, and that the thought was too scary to think of right now.

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every so often (most nights)

The car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and you have to walk 4 miles to the nearest town in the pouring rain.

All of you crowd into the tiny pub, a few vibrant locals scattered around, drowning themselves in cheap crystalline glasses filled with whiskey.

You’re all soaked to the skin, and the rain is still chucking down outside, droplets on the windows catching the warm glow from the light fixtures swinging precariously in their sockets. It reminds you of when you were five and you would spend evenings down the pub on your Mum’s knee, the smell of chips in your nostrils, the conversation and music in the background like a din in your ears, and all you wanted to was sleep.

Everything is cheaply upholstered, the corner booths done up in tartan fabrics and a scratchy carpet on the floor imbued with cigarette smoke and fraying at the edges, certain spots worn down by the feet of many patrons over the years, although you have no idea how many, considering this pub is at least an hour away from anywhere worth visiting.

You couldn’t manage to drag the car out here and Sirius refused to spend another night sleeping inside, since Remus just gave him a lengthy lecture on foot-and-mouth disease, and he’s yet to figure out that it’s not a real thing. Remus currently trying to make calls on his mobile while Sirius slams himself down at the bar and demands a whiskey straight, and Peter is attempting to dry his socks out by the open fire.

Everything is jaded and homely and kind of scraggy and undone, the warmth of the place a mixture of the coat hooks by the door and the ash sprinkled around the hearth like grave dust, soot stains on the carpet and worn brick walls, chipping tabletops and lacquered counter.

That’s when a girl comes out from the back, a black apron tied around her waist over a faded, red gingham dress, her hair in plaits and a smile slashed across her mouth like it’s written in blood. She vaults herself over the back of a bar and wrings a dirty dishtowel around the lip of a whiskey glass, propelling it across the lacquered bartop to Sirius, hoisting the whiskey off a shelf behind the bar and pouring him his drink.

You meander over to sit at the bar.

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Spencer Reid

It was dark when you woke up. You searched for your phone, surprised to see that it was only 11:17 pm. You had text messages from Garcia and Morgan, all wishing you well and begging you to join them at the bar if you felt better.

You did feel better now you’d slept non stop for the past 5 hours. The team had returned from their latest case yesterday and you had spent most of the day completing the mountain of paperwork that went with it. It had given you a migraine. Penelope and Morgan had wanted the team to go out together for drinks afterwards but JJ had wanted to get back to Henry and Hotch had needed to spend some time with Jack.

That had left you, Reid and Rossi for them to bully into taking part in their drunken shenanigans. You’d been game originally until the migraine had hit you around 4pm and you’d felt the desperate need to retreat to a dark room to hide.

Spencer had seen you wincing and rubbing your temples. “Go home” he’d said tenderly, understanding the pain you had been feeling. You took his advice, texting Penelope as you headed to the parking lot. She’d called you immediately asking if she could do anything to help.

“No thanks” you were touched by her concern. “I just need to take some meds and sleep.”

“Well if you’re sure my little cupcake. If you feel better later we’re still planning on heading out to Ben’s,” she’d said naming the bar right around the corner from your apartment.

You’d had a text from Spencer too. ‘Hope you feel better soon Y/N. Sleep will help,’ he’d sent not long after you’d left the office.

He’d text you again at around 9pm, ‘I think Morgan is trying to get me drunk. He keeps buying me funny coloured fruity drinks. Did you know that the human body actually produces its own supply of alcohol naturally, 24 hours a day and 7 days a week.’

You’d received a picture message from Garcia about 30 minutes later showing a table filled with shot glasses, all with various brightly coloured liquids in them, and then another picture showing the glasses empty but with Reid and Morgan in the background pulling disgusted faces.

Reid had texted you again only ten minutes ago which must have been what woke you up. ‘Save me Y/N. I think Morgans trying to break my liver.’

You giggled. 'You still out?’ you messaged him back. You dragged yourself out of bed quickly going to the bathroom and freshening yourself up. After ten minutes Reid hadn’t replied so you sent the same message to Garcia.

'Oh Yes Yes my gorgeous little munchkin’ she’d replied almost instantly.

'Be there in ten’ you shot back as you quickly brushed your hair and re did your make up. You threw on a short denim skirt and a black vest top grabbing your purple converse and hoodie. Not exactly classy but you looked good enough for the local dive bar you frequented so often.

“Sweetcheeks you made it!” Penelope squealed excitedly from her perch as you made your way through the bar to the table where her and Derek were sitting. You placed the bottle of wine you’d just purchased on the table and gave her a quick hug.

“Yep I feel tons better after my nap,” you said quickly downing a glass and refilling it.

“You need to catch up with us lady bird,” Derek smirked at you, handing you a shot glass full of an amber coloured liquid. You took it, screwing your face up at its bitter taste.

“Where’s Rossi and Reid?” you asked scanning the room for them.

“Rossi left with a hot blonde about five minutes before you arrived,” Garcia replied happily.

“Yeah she looked like she was ready to eat him up,” Morgan added in. “And the pretty boy is currently being chatted up by a very attentive cougar over there,” he made a notion with his head and you followed.

You laughed as your saw your friend looking horribly uncomfortable as a women in her late forties was sat drawing circles on his arm with her nails whilst attempting to lean over seductively, giving him a good view down her dress. You could see him trying to avoid looking, but every so often his eyes would drift down.

'Men and boobs eh?’ you thought to yourself. You caught Spencer’s eye and waved. His eyes lit up as he saw you, mouthing 'Save me’ in your direction. You giggled shaking your head watching his brown eyes plead for you to come and help him.

“Poor Spencer,” you chuckled taking another long sip of your wine.

“Poor Spencer nothing, princess. That boy needs some female attention. It’s about time he got laid, ” Derek knocked his drink back.

“Yeah but really Derek…..a cougar, she’ll break him!” you giggled. “How long has she been there?“

“Well I pointed him out to her about 30 minutes ago when she grabbed my ass and asked if I was looking for a good time tonight, ” Derek laughed. “I figured the boy genius could have a good time instead. If he can’t find himself a hook up, I’ll do it for him.”

You shook your head at Derek feeling sorry for Reid. It wasn’t that the profiler was unattractive. Far from it. In fact, as far as your own tastes went, Reid was preferable to you than Derek. But he lacked confidence with women, not knowing what to say or when to stop rambling. You’d been surprised at how quickly you two had actually become friends outside of work to be honest, seeing how awkward and shy he could be around people.

You glanced at Reid again. He looked so miserable, but you knew he’d rather sit there than risk offending someone, even someone who was blatantly trying to get him into bed.

“Be right back,” you said to Garcia and Morgan as you hopped off your stool and walked over to the booth where the cougar had imprisoned Reid.

“Baby!” you exclaimed sliding in next to him hoping he’d catch on. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” you took his hand and squeezed it gently, leaning in and pecking him oh so lightly on the cheek.

He smiled gratefully, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’ve just been listening to Shirley here telling me about her job as an air hostess.”

You smiled at 'Shirley’ sweetly. “Well thanks so much for keeping my boyfriend company for me.”

“Boyfriend?” she sniffed curtly. “His friend over there told me he’d be in need of a good time tonight,” she nodded over at Morgan who you could see was trying to hold back laughter. Spencer’s cheeks started to blush at the implication of what she meant.

You started to stroke his hand softly feeling him getting flustered. “Yes boyfriend, Shirley. Our friend over there must have meant someone else. The only person showing Spence a good time tonight will be me, right Spence?” you raised an eyebrow at him. He flushed red at your words.

“Pffft,” Shirley huffed. “He’s too scrawny for me anyway. Probably wouldn’t be able to handle a real women.”

'Bitch,’ you thought to yourself. Some people just didn’t know how to handle rejection well. You felt Spencer wince at the insult from her. 'And there goes his confidence levels plummeting to the ground again,’ you sighed internally.

“Let me tell you something Shirley,” you leaned over looking her dead in the eye. "This man right here may look scrawny, but he has no trouble pinning me up against my bedroom wall and fucking my brains out. He definitely, 100 percent knows how to handle a real women. Now I suggest you leave so I can discuss with Spencer exactly how he’s going to handle me when we get home.“ You smiled as her jaw dropped. Her face started to flush as she gathered up her bag and stalked away from the booth in the direction of the bathroom.

You knocked back your drink and turned to look at your friend. "Hi” you said nudging his shoulder with yours.

"Hi yourself” he replied licking his bottom lip. “Thanks for getting rid of her,” he smiled taking a sip of his own drink.

"No problem…. She pissed me off when she didn’t seem to believe that I was your girlfriend. So I had to put her in her place a little!“

“Well of course she didn’t believe it Y/N. Why would someone like you be with someone like me,” he said softly suddenly seeming very sober.

"What’s that meant to mean Spencer,” you asked sharply turning to look at him.

He gripped your hand realising how what he’d said might have sounded. “Oh no. N-no. T-that didn’t come out right,” he stuttered. He looked at you sadly and sighed. “You’re gorgeous Y/N. She couldn’t believe that someone as beautiful as you would be with someone like me. Like she said; I’m scrawny and definitely don’t look like I’d be any good at….. Well….that,” his eyes focused on his drink not wanting to look at you.

“Look at me Reid,” you put your hand out and touching his jaw, turning it towards you. “Spencer look at me.”

His sad brown eyes found yours. “Spencer, you may not be as built as guys like Morgan but trust me when I say that you could have any girl in here, if you’d only learn to be more confident.“

He huffed as if to say 'yeah right’ and started to look away again. You grabbed his face keeping it aimed on yours and moved closer to him. "I’m being serious Spencer. You’re gorgeous. You have a jaw line that most guys would kill for, eyes that someone could easily get lost in and hair that most women would love the opportunity to run their hand’s through. Add that to the fact that you’re a genius as well as kind and funny and well… What’s not to like?” He started to bite his lip the way he does at least ten times a day. "Oh and lip thing you’re doing right now Reid? Sexy as fuck….When ever you do that I can guarantee there’s at least one girl in the room watching you, wanting you to bite down on their lips instead…..Seriously, if you can teach yourself a whole new language in the space of a weekend then you can teach yourself to be confident. You could have anyone you wanted if you just had confidence in yourself.”

You sat back in your seat feeling sad that your friend didn’t realise what a good catch he was and feeling angry with Morgan for sending that bitch over to try to seduce him. You weren’t saying those things just to be nice either. You genuinely meant them. He was gorgeous and would make someone an amazing partner.

“What if I don’t want just anyone?” Spencer spoke quietly after taking a deep breath. “What if there is someone I like but I’m too scared that she doesn’t think of me like that?” he looked at you shyly.

You sighed racking your brains trying to think who this girl could be, feeling slightly jealous that there was someone he liked.

“Then tell her Reid, at least that way you know. If she doesn’t want you, then that’s her loss but at least you have an answer. Tell her.”

“I’m trying to Y/N. I’m trying to tell her right now,” he spoke so softly you almost didn’t hear him. He must have felt you tense as the meaning of his words finally clicked in your mind.

'Wait what?’ you thought. 'Me, he likes me?’ As much as you wanted to believe that’s what he’d just said, you couldn’t.

“Shit.” he muttered. “Guess that’s my answer. Can we just forget about this please?” he smiled at you weakly.

When you didn’t respond he made a move to leave the table. When you realised he was going to leave you blurted out, “NO.”

“No?” he asked quizzically.

“No, we can’t forget about it. Spencer…. You like me? Like properly more than a friend like me?” you wanted to be sure before you made a fool of yourself.

He blushed, “Well, erm, yes I do. A lot. A hell of a lot actually. I just never thought that anyone as awesome as you could like me. I don’t really have girlfriends, you know this.” He brushed a brown curl that was escaping back behind his ears as he bit his bottom lip again nervously.

You giggled, “Spence… I’m that girl.”

He looked confused.

“You’re biting your lip again… I’m that girl who wants you to be biting hers instead.” you laughed at the expression on his face. "I like you too. A lot,“ you whispered.

He smiled at you, his eyes lighting up. He looked so adorable right now.

"Listen,” you said. “Let’s go somewhere and get some coffee and talk okay.”

He nodded and you both stood up. You caught Penelope’s eye and mouthed 'We’re going’ across the room to her. She looked confused. You made a 'I’ll text you later motion’ with one hand and slipped your other hand back into Reid’s hearing him sigh happily at your contact.

Garcia clocked the hand hold and her eyes widened as a huge grin came over her face. You could almost hear the squeals that must be happening inside her head.

“Come on Dr Reid. We’ve gotta go find a wall for you to pin me up against. Wouldn’t want to have lied to Shirley now do we?”

He coughed and spluttered at what you’d just said.

“Haha. I’m joking Spence…. I don’t do that on a first date,” you turned to look up at him. "But someday, when you’re ready, we are soo doing that okay?“

He lowered his head so his lips were next your ears and whispered, "Okay, but maybe tonight, we could try some of that lip biting you mentioned instead.”

It was your turn to cough and splutter then as you pulled his hand and nearly dragged him out of the bar.

One Last Time

Originally posted by soyiyoyo

Request: Would you like please make a Imagine Chekov properly saying goodbye to the ship’s crew? Because I need that - @putthephaserdownplease

A/N: I deleted the playlist a made to make my friend cry when I moved like a week before getting the request and it would have been such perfect mood music for this. I feel like that karma for making a playlist of song that would make my friend cry. Also Keenser’s totally find; you guys don’t have to worry. Little guy just got all tuckered out. 

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Request (Anon): Teasing first kiss with Boyd? Something fluffy?

A/N: So I’m sorry…this is probably the cheesiest thing I’ve written but I have feels for Boyd. So don’t judge…

Words: 1747

You’re not sure how you ended up in this current predicament but you aren’t complaining. You like the bed that you are waking up in. It belongs to your best friend, Boyd. You were the one who picked it out after all. As you nuzzle your face against the pillow beneath you, you can’t help but smile at the memory of dragging Boyd through IKEA when he moved to his apartment.

Empty beer bottles are seated on the bedside table, next to the alarm clock and your empty wine glass.

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This is a Juice x Reader fic based on the song Stone Cold Sober by Brantley Gilbert.

Originally posted by stilinski-ortiz

(Gif not mine)

He sat at the bar of the club house flicking the diamond encrusted band on the thickly lacquered bar top. He would watch it spin around and around on its side until it would slowly tip over and wobble to a stop. When the party started to grow louder around him he pocketed the ring and took a pull of his now warm beer. He turned and attempted to engage in the goings on around him.

It wasn’t long before a beautiful girl had sidled up to him. She was pretty there was no denying that. However he just wasn’t interested. Not tonight.

He brushed her off and without saying goodbye he slipped out the door and took off on his bike.

Heading towards the outskirts of Charming he pulled into a place he shouldn’t be. At least not today, but he was there none the less. Walking into the rundown shack of a bar he ordered a bottle.


She drove through the streets of Charming. Passing TM she was hit with a wave of nausea. Just the sight and thought of what was happening inside the club house made her sick.

But it also made her remember him. And the memory of the day she left made it worse. This day in particular made her actually have to swallow back bile rising in her throat.

Just another quarter mile and she would turn left, go home, draw up a bubble bath, and cry silent tears into a bottle of wine. Then once she got drunk enough she would probably scream and  send the empty bottle smashing into the wall. Then she’d break down and cry herself to sleep. The next morning she would wake up sweep the glass away and carry on pretending that all was right with the world.

But quickly she realised that quarter mile, was a half mile back in her rear view.

Soon she was parking in the gravel lot of a neon lit shack. She didn’t even see the black bike parked in the dark corner as she walked in.

Her breath hitched when she looked at the bar and saw the reaper staring her in the face. She should have turned and walked out. She was supposed to hate him. Then she saw his hand wrapping around a half empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey. He put it to his lips and took a too long pull of the amber liquid and her feet moved forward of their own accord.

When she stopped she found herself standing next to him. He looked up at the new presence to his side and his eyes filled with tears.


Juice woke up in his bed alone and fully clothed. He was hot and knew he smelled of sweat and whiskey. Reaching over he found only cool and empty sheets. It had all been a dream he thought for a moment. As he sat up he wondered how he had gotten home. Pulling off his kutte first he sighed and stood from the bed.

Making his way down the hall to the bathroom. Standing at the sink he couldn’t even look him self in the mirror. He turned on the cold tap and filled his hands with water to splash the sleep from his face. It didn’t help.

He reached over and turned on the shower letting the room filled with steam. When he pulled his shirt over his head he caught a whiff of her perfume on it. Only then did the memories of the night before flood his mind.

It wasn’t a dream. She was there. She was really there and he had told her everything.


“(Y/N)?” He said choking on her name. “How are you..?”

He looked into her eyes and instead of the hate he had expected to find if he ever saw her again, he only found sadness.

“What are you doing here Juice?”

“Trying not to feel.” He mumbled

“What is it you don’t want to feel?” She asked.

“Hate.” He dead panned taking another swig and feeling the burn in his chest.

“Hate for me?”

He blew a half hearted laugh out of his nose. “Fuck no baby. Never you. It’s me I hate.”

Her heart clinched in her chest. She had thought after the hate she had spewed in his face he would hate her. He should. She had said the worst things, taking all of his insecurities and throwing them in his face the way she had… she even hated her self for it.

Watching him she couldn’t muster up anything but love for him as he swayed on his barstool.

“Come on Juice. Let’s get you home.”

“Yeah ok.” He mumbled reaching into his Kutte he pulled out some cash when something small fell out and caught her eye as it spun around onto the bar top. When it stopped she stared at it confused. It was a platinum band encrusted with diamonds in an antique setting. Simple but beautiful.

Juice noticed the look of worry in her eyes. He could tell, even through the drunk haze clouding his vision, that she wondered what that ring represented. Quickly as his current state would allow he tossed down the cash and picked up the ring shoving it back into his Kutte.

(Y/N) took a breath when the ring was snatched from her sight.

She did her best to help him out to her car. He leaned heavily on her and it took everything not to cry. He was warm and smelled of leather and cigarettes, she could even smell his aftershave on his skin. It was a whole new kind of heaven to hold him again, while also being in a whole new kind of hell.

He stared at her while she drove. “Why were you there tonight Juice?”

“To remember….. to forget? Fuck if I know. Maybe I was just hoping the place still had some magic in it.” He slurred a bit as he spoke.


“I don’t what the fuck else to call it. It was like magic. Everything that has ever been right in my life walked though the doors of that place once. I guess I was hoping it would happen again.”

They had met at that bar…. “Are you trying to say that … are you… ”

“You were everything that has ever been right in my life (Y/N). And I fucked it up because I’m a coward and I was scared. I let the voices in my head get to me and tell me you maybe everything that is right in my life but I was everything wrong in yours. So I made you hate me and I fucked up everything.”

The drunken words were a truth she wasn’t sure she could believe.

Pulling into his driveway she parked the car. He unclipped the belt and looked up at his dark house. She could tell he wanted to tell her something but she was too afraid to speak. She had been barely breathing the whole ride for fear of a full on break down.

Finally he took a breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the ring from earlier and set it on her dash. “You should keep it.” He said. When she turned to him with a look of shock he clarified. “It was ment for you. I got it for you. It’s yours (Y/N), you should keep it.”

She took a breath but he cut her off. Which was fine she didn’t know what she would have said anyway.

“I bought this ring and on the day I was supposed to give it to you I walked into that door.” He said pointing to the front of his house. “And I found behind it everything I could have ever dreamed of. And thought I don’t deserve this. So I made you hate me and I made you leave. And baby I am so fucking sorry.”

He turned to look at her glossed over eyes. He just stared at her a moment before grabbing her face and pulling her in for a hard tight kiss. Pulling away he saw her stunned face. And he sobbed “I’m so sorry baby. I love you so much. I just had to say that once. Even if this is just a drunk man’s dream.”


 But it wasn’t a dream she had been there. He had said it all. Scrambling back to his room he dug into the pocket of his kutte and pulled out his phone.

He listened as it rang once … twice… three…. four…. a breath. She had answered but she didn’t say hello. “You were there last night weren’t you?” He started talking “it was real and….” he couldn’t find words. Then he heard a small sob she was crying. “Baby it was all true. I meant every God damn word. Baby please I don’t have my bike. Baby come over. Please baby. (Y/N) I need you to come over.” He waited a beat before a busy signal started to beep it’s way over the line.

“FUCK!” He roared throwing the phone. He would just go to her. He was running down the hall and out the door but before he could make it to the end of the side walk he saw her. She was still sitting in the car in his driveway. She never left. She had been there all night.


When he left she sat there stunned. The tears slid slow from her eyes then as she picked up the ring from the dash board of her car she let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding so tightly to. That was when in all came out and she cried. Really cried, she sobbed at the thoughts of everything she learned that night.

He had spent the one year anniversary of the day he let her walk out of his life, in the place where she had first walked into it. He had bought a ring. He was going to propose. And he let the insecurities that she threw in his face when he made her hate him take over his mind and ruin what could have been. But above all of that. Over everything she had learned that night the only one that really hurt was that he still loved her too.


Running to the driver side door he ripped it open and fell to his knees next to her. “Baby I’m sorry please. Please Baby forgive me. I love you so much I need you. I’m a wreck without you.. Baby…” he stared at her red face pleading for forgivenes.

 "Juice you’re still drunk.“ She sniffled out.

“Baby let me tell you something. I haven’t had a hangover since you left. Because nothing in this world has ever sobered me up faster than waking up alone.”

She tried to breath, but she just broke down. She fell from the driver’s seat of the Camaro and slid into his arms.

He held her there on the ground leaned against the open car door as she cried in his arms. When she looked up she saw the plea for forgiveness in his eyes. “I wanna come home Juice.”

“I want you home baby I’m so sorry.” He held her a moment longer before scooping her up and carrying her inside of what was once again their home.

When he woke up again she was there and against the dark navy blue of the sheets he saw a diamond encrusted band in an antique setting and he smiled. ‘Guess that neon shack had a little magic left in it after all.’ He thought as he stared at everything that was right in his life sleeping peacefully for the first time in a year.

@juiceboxxortiz @dolphingoddess81 @doodlebugwriter @khyharah @weirdnewbie @calumonoxide @chaosmieu @a-daydreamers-stories @anarchyrenegade @thegoodthebadandtheempty @thatimaginewriter @telford-ortiz-teller @mentalfictionleftmyassbehind

Series: Who Will Save You Now?
Fandom: Peaky Blinders
Pairing: Reader x Michael Gray / Reader x Peaky Blinders
Word Count: 1318
Dedicated to: @peakyblinders1919. This author with their imagines and oneshots has inspired me to write my own story featuring Peaky Blinders. Also dedicated to the people who adore this show as much as I do.


Prologue (X) Chapter 1 (X) Chapter 2 (X) Chapter 3 (X)

Chapter 4

As soon as you exited The Garrison you knew you should have walked away from the place as quickly as possible. Yet the thought of going home didn’t seem really appealing to you and because of that you decided to take as much time as possible till going home. You walked away from door, allowing the drunken people to enter the building. The first thing you did after stopping was pulling a pack of cigarettes from your purse, lighting it and taking a deep inhale of the cigarette. You weren’t a huge smoker, finding yourself grabbing a pack of cigarettes every once in a while, especially when you were nervous or angry. And angry you were.

You walked over to a chair that you spotted a little further from The Garrison, sitting on it as you crossed your legs. Your eyes wandered around your surroundings, seeing quite many people walking in and out of the pub. It seemed to be a quite popular place, yet everyone was scared of the Shelby’s. Why in the name of God did they visit the place if they were afraid of its owners?

You were deep in thought and due to that you didn’t even notice one of the Shelby’s spotting you and making their way towards you. As soon as Michael walked out of the pub he saw you sitting alone, deciding to have a chat with you, maybe even a glass of whiskey or two since it seemed that you needed it even more than he did. He stopped in front of you, and that was the moment you noticed him, silently cursing yourself for not leaving the place.

“You mind if I sit?” He asked, pointing towards another empty chair that was placed opposite of yours. You rolled your eyes at his question. He basically owned the chair, if anything you should have asked him whether it was okay for you to sit there, not the other way around.

“Go ahead.” You simply replied, continuing to smoke your cigarette as you looked away from him. You felt him stare at you, but continued to look at the passing people. A part of you wanted to say something, but the other part of you told you to remain silent. Besides, what would you say to him? You didn’t know who he was besides the fact that he was Polly’s son and the Shelby’s cousin. Other than that you didn’t know anything about the man, nor did you really care. Your head was filled with different thoughts, not one of them featuring the man who was currently sitting in front of you.

“Are you always this silent?” He asked you, forcing you to look at him. There was a certain handsomeness in the man, but what strike out were his eyes. You were sure that if you were to look into his eyes you would simply drown in them.

Clearing your throat you decided not to answer to his question. Instead you pointed at his bottle, a smirk on your face.

“Mind if I drink a little? I didn’t get my American whiskey after all.” You asked and with a chuckle Michael passed the bottle to you. You took a large sip from it before placing the bottle onto the table between the two of you.

“I’m sorry you know. About the whole situation you are in.” He said, causing you to look at him. He apologizing for something he wasn’t guilty of caught you off guard. You gave him a small smile before finishing your cigarette and extinguishing it. A chuckle escaped your lips as you turned yourself towards Michael, a smile on your face.

“So, who’s the lucky guy I’m marrying?” You found yourself asking. Surely he was aware of who the person was since you weren’t. You weren’t speaking to your father, and even if you were you were more than sure that he wouldn’t tell you the person’s name.

“Me.” He simply replied, downing the whiskey down from his throat. Your mouth fell open as you stared at him. Gaining your composure you muttered ‘bloody hell’ to yourself, but still loud enough for him to hear you. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow as you realized that you came off very rudely due to your response.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure you’re a nice guy, it’s just-” You stopped midway, not bothering to finish your sentence. He seemed to understand what you meant as he let out a deep sigh.

“Believe me, I know.”

Your father’s men rushing past you was the first sight you saw when you entered your house. They simply glanced at you as they left the house, not even bothering to say anything to you. You were confused, thinking that something serious had happened while you were away. You saw Lucas standing near you as you decided to ask him what was happening. When he spotted you he let out a deep sigh, clearly relived to see you.

“Bloody hell Y/N, where were you? Your father was worried sick.” Lucas explained as you stood dumb-folded, unsure of what the problem was. You had stayed out maximum three hours, and it wasn’t like you hadn’t been out without guards before.

When your father saw you standing there safely he exhaled deeply. He knew he had to try to talk to you, had to try to explain you why he had done what he had done. It wasn’t because he didn’t love you - he did, he just didn’t show it. He was harsh on you because he at some point he would disappear from this world and leave you alone. He wanted you to be ready for when the moment came; he wanted you to be ready to lead the Pierce gang.

“Y/N? Come to my cabinet please.” Raimond Pierce said, his voice sounding a lot softer than it usually was. You looked over to him, sending a glance at Lucas before you walked into the cabinet, your father closing the doors after you.

You stood still, your arms crossed in front of your chest, waiting for him to say whatever he wanted to say. He silently sat into his chair, his eyes landing on you. For a second he thought about what to say, realizing that whatever he said would not be okay.

“I’m sorry.” And that was it. You couldn’t believe that those were the only words your father said to you after sending you basically off to marry someone you didn’t even know. You knew that even saying those words took a lot from him since he was never a person who apologized for anything really.

“You’re sorry? That really eases the situation that you are forcing me into. That’s nice that you’re sorry, but what about me? Did you ever think about what I wanted? Marrying someone I don’t know isn’t what I bloody want.” You yelled as a tear rolled down your cheek. Never in the past had you cried in front of your father. ‘We’re gangsters Y/N, we don’t have any emotions.’ that’s what your father would say to you. Yet the tear escaped from your eye, but you wiped it quickly away. You would not cry in front of Raimond Pierce.

With a deep breath you calmed yourself down as you looked at your father who looked at you with a stunned expression on his face.

“I will marry a Shelby on one condition: you will teach me everything there is to know about races, about how to lead a gang. And I will marry one month from this date. Do we have a deal?” You asked your father. Raimond looked at you, finding it surprising that you would dare to blackmail something out of him. But he needed a way so that you would forgive him, and that was it.


Girls Talk Boys (Luke smut)

Summary: Y/N and Luke have been friends with benefits for a while and now they’re both coming to terms with the fact that they’ve fallen in love with each other

Requested? By @felicityash

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: This is my adaption on the song and I really hope people like it!!

Warnings: alcohol, sex, fbw! relationship

Originally posted by lipringsandsnapbacks

Masterlist | Have any feedback?

Beginning a friends with benefits relationship with your roommate, Luke, was never something you’d imagined when you’d first moved into his apartment. Your first impression of him was a shy boy, someone who was reluctant to make any moves. But as quickly as that image had formed, it was shattered.

You soon learned Luke was nowhere near as timid as he’d made himself out to be. It’d only taken a few days until he’d managed to schmooze his way into your life, dropping pet names and casual caresses into every conversation.

The building sexual tension between the both of you had grown unbearable, the desire to jump under the sheets with him overtaking the one part of your brain screaming that it was a bad idea. You’d heard stories of people in your situation, about how everything was great until one caught feelings and ruined the relationship.

But you’d thought you’d be fine. Luke had made an agreement with you; the both of you would entertain each other until you became bored or found a permanent partner. No feelings allowed. 

But, seeing as the universe seems to take pleasure in throwing curveballs in your direction, you ended up catching feelings after the first month. 

Little do you know, Luke feels the exact same way. 

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Chapter 48: The Inn (Rhys POV)

I take zero credit for the dialogue or characters behind this fic. They belong 100% to Sarah J. Maas.

I’m kind of sad right now. I think this is the last Rhys POV I have in me for the first two books. Everything I wanted to write, I’ve written! I will still continue to write other fics, but I think of canon Rhys POV re-writes, this is the last one for a while. So here it is - the Inn scene taken from Chapter 48 of ACOMAF. Thank you to the many, many people who asked for this and sat by patiently waiting for me to write it. I know it took me a while and I appreciate you all waiting on me.

And for @feysand16 who, I think, has waited the longest and most patiently for this fic. <3

Out of the Shadows

To say the inn where we were staying was cramped would have been an understatement, but there it was. The attic room given us was tiny, Feyre was grumpy as hell from training, and I was horny as fuck from flying her here against my chest through the wind and rain.

The encounter with Lucien seemed to have triggered something in us both that even the Court of Nightmares and Starfall had not managed. I thought about how Feyre had looked with those powerful wings gliding out of her back the entire flight to the inn, trying not to drop in my anxiety her as we flew.

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#59: He's Your Brother's Best Friend


Two prefs in one day? I’m a girl on fire today, lol. Tell me if you like want a part 2 or something and I’ll see if I can work it out. ッ


The smell of barbeque and grill had filled your backyard, your whole family being gathered together as it as your brother’s birthday. Currently your dad and uncle were busy over the grill, making basically every possible food from cheese sausages, beefs and corns. Your cousins were running around with bottles of water and water balloons, trying to cool each other off in the hot summer heat. “Shouldn’t you join?” Your mother asked, sitting next to you in one of the chairs, giving your shoulder a light puff. “I don’t really know.” You shrugged, scratching your arm. “Come on sweety, look Luke and Y/B/N are joining them now, so should you.” You only shook your head at her, noticing how Luke and Y/B/N started to run around with water bottles, the grass totally wet after this game. Your mom stood up from the chair, getting eye contact with Y/B/N before mouthing him something. A massive grin appeared on his lips before he walked around in a circle, coming up behind you on the chair before emptying a bottle over your head. “Y/B/N.” you yelled before standing up in your chair, finally getting in. “It was Luke.” He said pointing towards Luke making you sprint over to him, throwing some water at him and ready to sprint back before he could get revenge. “Hey come back.” Luke laughed, grabbing you by the waist before you could run away from him, grabbing you tight so you couldn’t escape from his grip. He opened a water bottle with his other hand, wiggling his eyebrows at you as your eyes had widened. “No please don’t.” You pleaded but before you could let out anymore protests, Luke emptied the bottle over your head, letting out a small laugh as you spit out some of the water that had flown into your mouth. “Hey Luke let go of my little sis and come play football with us. “ Your brother yelled tearing Luke’s eyes away from you to look back at him. “Coming.” He yelled before handing you the water bottle, giving you a weak before he ran over to Y/B/N, leaving you dumb folded.


“Well good morning to you too.” Your brother commented as you came down the stairs into the kitchen, your hair a mess from sleeping, one of his T shirts hanging loosely down to the middle of your thighs slightly covering your knickers. Calum looked up from his bowl of cereals and his eyes widen in surprise. The both of you looked away fast as your eyes met, a pinkish blush covering your cheeks in embarrassment. “You could’ve at least told me that Calum was over.” You mumbled trough gritted teeth, walking over to the cabinet taking out a bowl. “He’s practically been living here since mom and dad went on a vacation I thought you heard him last night.” “Well I didn’t.” You snickered, standing on your tiptoes to grab the cereals on the highest cabinet making your shirt rise and show a bit of your panties. “Jesus Y/N.” Your brother commented taking himself to the head. “What?” You questioned even though you probably couldn’t care less. “At least throw on some pants, you know at least for Calum’s sake.” He said pointing towards your silk underwear. “If he has to live here until mom and dad gets home, he’ll have to adjust seeing me walking around in my underwear.” You gave Calum a fast glare seeing him form a small smirk before you poured milk into your bowl, placing it back in the fridge before taking the bowl in your hand. You gave your brother a fake smiley glare before heading out of the kitchen and up the stairs, Calum’s eyes never leaving your form – or more correctly your bum. “Dude.” Your brother almost shouted in disgust hitting Calum in the back of the head making the boy turn his head back to your brother. “What?” He asked as he came back from his zoning. “That is my babysis.” He said shaking his head but Calum only shrugged his shoulders, looking back at where you had headed up towards the stairs again.


“Y/N do you know where dad is?” Y/B/N asked as he heard your footsteps in the kitchen making you cock an eyebrow instantly. “No?” You asked in a question walking over to the cabinet to grab a glass. “He should be home by now. I just wanted to tell him that Michael’s gonna stay for the night.” He explained and you gave Michael a nod as you noticed him next to Y/B/N, his lilac hair shining. He smiled back at you before turning his head back to the screen. “Haven’t you thought of calling him?” You asked, not really caring about an answer as you poured some lemon juice into the glass. “Not really. Too lazy.” He laughed as he pressed his fingers different places on the controller. He let out a groan as Michael beat him in the game, Michael raising his arms in victory, Y/B/N shaking his head at him as Michael gave him a triumph smirk. ”Oh and Y/N?” Y/B/N yelled again, looking back slightly. “What?” You mocked giving him an annoyed look. “Make us some sandwiches. Michael and I are hungry.” He gave you a smile which you returned fake before he turned his head back to the screen. Opening the fridge you grabbed some cheese, ham and some bread from one of the drawers before walking over to the couch, standing with the groceries above Y/B/N’s head, letting it fall. “What the fuck Y/N?” He almost yelled, looking up at you as he collected the things in his lap. “Well you said you wanted sandwiches. Go make it yourself bro.” You smiled. “Nice attitude.” Michael commented with a smirk making you shrug. “He deserves it.” You said glaring down at your brother before turning on your heel, heading towards your room again. “She’s some of a girl.” Michael commented taking a look back at where you had just shut your door. “It can be a pain in the ass sometimes.” Your brother mumbled making Michael laugh as he started a new game on the ps4.


“What Y/N, is the movie too scary for you?” Your brother teased making you stick out your tongue at him as you removed the blanket from your face, grimacing at him from the couch you were sitting at towards the other one where him and Ashton had settled.  “It’s just not.. My type.” You snickered grimacing now as you looked back at the TV. “You’re too small for this.” He stated, the smirk never leaving his face. You let out a small groan, rolling your eyes before giving him a glare. “You’re 12 minutes older than me; let it fucking go Y/B/N.” He shrugged his shoulders sending you a small chuckle. “If you’re too scared you can come sit with us.” He suggested, the brother side actually showing from him even though Ashtons was there. “Gladly.” You said sarcastically but stood up anyways, grabbing your blanket with you before you plumbed yourself on the cushion, sitting next to Ashton now. He gave you a small smile which you returned before leaned back on the sofa, looking back at the screen. You placed the blanket over yourself before poking Ashton lightly, showing him some of the blanket in an indication of if he wanted some over him and he obeyed, nodding his head so you placed some over him as well. As another flash of disgusting monsters eating out the flesh of a human being in the movie you grimaced before grabbing your blanket, pulling it up to your chin so you could lift it up over your eyes if necessary. Ashton looked down at you for a moment, noticing your uncomfortable state and before he could control his actions, his hand found yours under the blanket, intertwining his fingers with yours. A pinkish blush appeared on your cheeks as your felt his hand, your eyes instantly growing wide and you looked up at him. But he didn’t look at you, just looked at the screen with a no emotional face expression. His thumb started to draw patterns along the back of your hand, and it actually soothed you down. It actually felt good. 


*Requested* Imagine having a brother/sister relationship with Stefan but one night he lets it slip that he wants more

( I added that Stefan let´s the confession slip while being slighlty drunk. I do hope you enjoy this one. Happy reading my lovelies!)

Word count: 718

Your name: submit What is this?

Your friendship with Stefan has always been light and supportive, like brother and sister. Though there was this spark that lid up from time to time, which lets you question if your relationship is purely on a friendship basis. But do not worry. You will get an answer to that question today.

You are currently entering the Boarding House, spotting Stefan filling several glasses at once with Damon´s favorite, very expensive bourbon.

Y/N: “What the hell are you doing?”

He turns around holding two glasses up, before downing both of them.

Stefan: “What does it look like? I am drinking every last drop of Damon’s bourbon while he´s out.”

Y/N: “Uhm, okay. Why?”

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Won’t Go Home Without You

Originally posted by stanxstan

Bucky Barnes x reader

Imagine: You are afraid that Bucky does not love you anymore and he is trying to prove so badly that he does.


A/N: oh my god. I listened to Beautiful Dirty Rich by Lady Gaga while listening to this and all I could think about was Tony sitting on a throne, dancing with men and women holding wine glasses full of champagne. XD


Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Rated: Mature

Warning: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, fluff


Author: Chris-Evans-Imagines


You were sitting on a plastic chair on the outdoor balcony, sipping a beer and sighing. You were a happy person, in a loving relationship with an assassin, and living in a beautiful tower built by Stark himself. However, you were currently depressed. Why? You were scared. Bucky had been suddenly distant with you and it worried you. Was he getting tired of you? Did he not love you anymore? You took a huge drink of your beer, scowling when it emptied. You grabbed the next bottle from the six-pack, sighing when you opened it with your teeth.

‘What am I not doing?’

You looked at the city, watching the sunset slowly and the rays cast an orange glow over the busy city. You nearly fell out of your chair when you heard a gruff voice behind you ask.

“Baby? What are you doing out here?”

You didn’t turn but replied with.


“While going through five boxes of six packs?”

You had to chuckle. You couldn’t get drunk like Steve couldn’t. It wasn’t that you were a super soldier, because you weren’t. You couldn’t get drunk because of your power. You were able to convert certain anomalies into energy, meaning you could turn anything that you ate or drank into energy. You were lethal. Able to create shockwaves equivalent to a very small shock to Richter scale-breaking earthquakes. That was what the energy was used for. You admitted.

“Well, I might as well. I can’t get drunk, sadly.”

“Why are you trying to get drunk?”

You snapped, throwing the empty bottle over the railing of the balcony.

“Why are you trying to pry into my business?”

Bucky was taken back. You had never spoken to him like that and you stomped your way away from him, moving to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of Jack. Bucky frowned and snapped back, snatching the Jack from your hands.

“What’s your problem, (Y/N)?”

“What’s my problem? What is my problem? What’s your problem? You have been avoiding me these past few days, walking past me as if I’m not even there! Like I’m a ghost.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and you admitted, tears filling your eyes.

“Why am I trying to get drunk?! So I can forget about my fucking fear of losing you! You make it seem like you don’t want me anymore, always walking by without a glance in my direction, flirting with the other agents, making me feel like I’m nothing!”

You wiped your eyes and Bucky reached for you, saying.

“Now wait a minute! I haven’t been ignoring you! I thought Nick would have told you that I have a really serious mission to focus on and I can’t have any distractions!”

“Oh, so I’m a fucking distraction now?!”

“No, baby-”

“Don’t you 'baby’ me!”

You screamed. You could feel the energy surfacing from within your body, snapping its tails at your skin like whips of electricity. You stomped to the front door, yelling.

'If you didn’t love or care about me anymore, you should have told me instead of making me wonder why I can’t even look at you without feeling like I’m worthless!“

Hands slammed you into a wall and Bucky yelled.

"Goddammit, would you shut up and let me talk? Fuckin Jesus!”

His hands pushed you into the wall hard, his metal arm squeezing your right arm painfully. Bucky snarled into your face.

“I do love you, (Y/N)! I do care about you! Every time you’re not in my sight, I get scared. Afraid that something bad has happened to you. This mission is a huge thing because it’s about me, (Y/n)…”

You looked into his blue eyes and asked.


"You heard me…I’m recovering more and more of my past and it’s been a little depressing for me…I’m sorry, I don’t mean to seem like I’m ignoring you…but it’s really hard for me.”

His grip loosened a bit and he hugged you tightly, breathing a little heavily.

“Fuck, I love you so much and I can’t stand the thought of losing you. I’m sorry…”

You sniffled and hugged him back, whispering.

“I don’t want to lose you, James.”

“You won’t…”

You looked at him and Bucky gently kissed you. His hands cupped your face and your eyes fluttered close, hands gently trailing through his cut-short hair. You sighed and he pulled back only to dip his head onto your shoulder and kiss your neck and shoulder, his hands gently trailing down your sides and massaging your hips.

“I love you…”

He whispered in between kisses and nips. You were shocked. Bucky during sex was rough and right to the point. Now, he was gentle and passionate. Loving. Bucky picked you up gently, bridal style, and walked towards your room. You yelped and squirmed.


Bucky chuckled and laid your down. He suddenly pressed his metal hand on the back of your neck and asked.



Bucky chuckled and kissed you, lifting your tank top off your body. He then stripped his shirt off and kissed your neck, lifting your body up with his metal arm and unclasping your bra with his other.

“I’m not going too fast right now, am I?”

He asked, voice whispering. You whispered in return.

“No, James.”

He leaned back and took your bra off slowly, relishing the sight of your body. His eyes were wide and he gave a shudder. He admitted.

“I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated your body. Fuck, you know how gorgeous you are?”

You blushed and Bucky slowly trailed his warm hand up your naval, inching up to your chest and instead of it touching your breast, it touched your heart. You were astounded. Bucky closed his eyes and rest his forehead right on the spot, kissing the spot below your heart and he kissed you again, tongue running along your bottom lips. You returned with more passion. Your heart almost ripped from your chest when he whispered.

“I’m going to show you just how much I love you by making love to you all-”





Lick. He gave your lips so much attention as he gently kneaded your breast while untying your sweatpants or actually his that you stole. They came undone and slipped from your body, showing nude colored, super thin, super soft panties. Bucky’s fingers slowly slid up your thighs, mesmerizing your feelings and you ran your hands up his arms to run them through his hair. Bucky sat up, taking in the sight of your body before him, getting intoxicated by the sight. You sat up and kissed his own chest right at his heart. Bucky sighed and you kissed his lips, gently intertwining both of your fingers and slid your hands down his sides, taking his sweatpants with your hands. You licked his bottom lip, nibbling on it and Bucky sighed, his hands on your hips. He hooked his fingers around your panties and you both slid each other’s undergarments on at the same time, slowly. Bucky laid you down gently on your back and kissed your neck. His hands trailed all around your body, gently pinching your nipples as he passed your breasts. His hand lowered between your legs, all four fingers sliding up your folds and catching some of your slick. He lathered his dick with your juices and slowly pumped into your sex, moans emitting from both of you. Slowly, he thrust back and forth into you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. A flush was covered over your face as his hips rocked into your, the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of you exciting. Bucky’s forehead rested against yours as you two looked at each other, you biting his lip while his mouth kept opening a bit. His bangs were hanging down a bit, tickling your eyes a bit and your hands ran through the locks, only to rest at his shoulders. Gripping metal and flesh, you whispered his name, feeling the coil slowly but passionately tighten. Bucky moaned and you bit your lip, gasping a bit. Bucky kissed you, his lips soft, wet, and warm. He grunted and his hips moved a little faster, trying to reach release. His hands slid to your thigh, holding your flesh tightly. His metal fingers dug into your skin but you didn’t mind. You gasped and arched your back, eyes locked on Bucky and mouth open wide.


You gasped out.  He grunted and you came, yelling out his first name, gripping his shoulders hard and legs wrapping tightly around his waist. Bucky moaned as he watched you come undone. His thrusts faltered as you milked him into his orgasm, his seed coating your walls and his head fell into your neck and shoulder. He thrust a couple more times before pulling out and he lifted his head, kissing you and laid his head against your breast, holding you to him. Bucky whispered.

“I love you so much, doll. Please don’t leave me…”

“I love you too, James. I won't…I promise.”


Habits and Obsessions ; 1

pairing: Jikook-centric || 2Seok, Taekook and more to come bc I’m trash

genre: college!AU, stripper!AU, a mixture of all the good stuff (and…..a lot of smut in the near future)

word count: ~8.3k

summary: Jungkook is tired of Taehyung’s constant needs, Namjoon has a thing for Seokjin, Jimin comes into the picture and all the nice (and strange) things ensue.


warnings: mentions of voyeur/strippers, mentions of mature content, very tiny hints of drug use, excessive amounts of swearing

ch 1 || ch 2 || 

Originally posted by lovelybangtanboys

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Date Night

Summary: Maggie invites Alex over for dinner, cuteness ensues. 

A phone went off from across the room and Alex groaned. She kicked the feet out from under her sparring partner and pinned him to the ground. He tapped out instantly and she ran over to her phone, not even bothering to check the caller ID. “Danvers.” She said breathlessly.

There was a chuckle on the other end. “Is this a bad time Alex? I can call back later…”

Alex blushed, recognizing Maggie’s voice immediately. “Oh shut up. I was just finishing up my workout.”

“Mmhm.” Maggie replied. Alex rolled her eyes. She knew the woman well enough to know that she was smirking into the phone. “Anyway, I wanted to see if you were up for date night at my apartment after work.”

Alex’s heart swelled. She wasn’t sure when she would stop getting excited at the fact that she was actually dating  Maggie Sawyer, but she hoped it wouldn’t be any time soon. “Did you finally get sick of greasy alien bar food?” She asked, taking on a teasing tone.

“That, and I don’t know if my pride could handle any more losses to you at the pool table.”

Alex cracked a smile. “Fair enough.I think I’m….” The smile quickly turned to a frown when she remembered what day it was. “Actually, tonight doesn’t work. I’m so sorry. It’s sister night and I already promised Kara I would bring the pot stickers, if I don’t show, it could get ugly. Can I take a raincheck?”

“… Um, sure. Listen, I have to get back to work, I’ll call you later.” Maggie responded, the cheer dropping from her tone.

Alex could feel Maggie’s disappointment through the phone. The worst part was that she could do nothing about it. “Bye Maggie.” Alex ended the call and turned around to face her opponent, who caught the look in her eye and shuddered. She smirked. “Ready to go again?”


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anonymous asked:

Made up fic title: "Red Heels and Black Ties"

Halloween at Granny’s.

They’re twenty minutes into the party at Granny’s – supposedly an annual event, though Henry can’t remember the last time Storybrooke had found itself sufficiently peril-free long enough to actually celebrate anything – when he starts to wonder if he shouldn’t have reconsidered his choice in costume.

The depressing part is how much thought he’d put into the whole look: his hair very carefully mussed (Mom had, for once, let him leave the house without first threatening to run him down with a comb), a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and a deceptively casual overcoat thrown over a shirt, tie and sweater vest combo.

He’s just grumpily corrected yet another wave of party guests – Belle this time, whom he thinks really should’ve known better considering how many books she’s read – when his other mom sidles up to him in a black leather catsuit, furry pointed ears peeking out of her loose blonde curls.

In his periphery, Henry notices Batman angling awkwardly up to the bar, wedging his broader-than-usual shoulders in between an Asgardian warrior prince and princess before delicately lifting a hook to readjust his lopsided cape.

“Nice one, kid,” Mom is telling Henry, then, to his dismay, “Let me guess – Harry Potter?”

Henry struggles not to sigh too audibly, or point out his lightning bolt-less forehead, or the fact that his scarf is red and grey, not red and gold. Honestly.

“For the last time,” he says, in a pretty terrible English accent that, to be fair, doesn’t remotely help his case, “the name’s Q.”

Pulling his lapel open, he gestures helpfully to the array of fancy-looking ballpoint pens, multicolored paper clips, metal engraved lighters, and gold-tubed lipsticks lining up his inner pockets. “See? High-tech gadgetry masquerading as regular household items, thus optimizing their utility in top-secret spy missions.”

“Huh,” says Mom.

Henry drops his voice as though about to impart a very important secret (which, of course, he is, make no mistake about it). “BB-8 has been recruited to help. He’s scouting the area for other kinds of harmless-looking objects that might prove useful – salt shakers, ketchup bottles, things like that.”

“Impressive,” nods Mom, before gamely adding, “So what does that do?” She points at one of the lipsticks Henry had nicked from the vanity after his other mom had finished with it.

“Yes, Henry, what does that one do?” Speaking of other Mom – wow, not that this has gotten confusing at all – she approaches them now, with a hint of a smile betraying the rather stern tone she’s just taken with him.

“This,” explains Henry with a great conspiratorial air, “is not just any old lipstick. The pigments within it are imbued with a very potent sleeping curse, such that the user—” he acknowledges Mom with a grand wave of his hand “—may render anyone she chooses into a potentially permanent state of unconsciousness.”

Catwoman Mom lets out a badly suppressed snort while other Mom casts her a withering side-eye.

“With only one small caveat,” continues Henry loudly, ignoring them both, “which is that if you accidentally kiss your true love while wearing it, you’ll have to wipe the lipstick off before kissing him again in order to break the spell.”

His moms exchange a smile this time, but then a pair of cat ears tilts curiously to one side as its wearer surveys his other mom’s costume. She’s dressed in a sensible three-piece skirt suit not all that different from her typical work attire, with the very small, very pointy exception of her stiletto heels, the same deep wine-red shade as her lips.

“And you’re supposed to be…” Catwoman Mom draws an obvious blank, then finishes with an uncertain, “…you?”

Mom only barely seems to refrain from rolling her eyes. “I’m the new and improved M.”

“Ah,” says his other mom, finally catching on. “Q, and M. So that must make Robin…”

They automatically swivel around to locate him, currently weaving his way to join Batman at the bar. He’s clad in a smartly pressed, navy black tuxedo, custom-tailored with a bit of Mom’s magic (they’d spent an awful long time shut away in her bedroom while “working on it,” and Henry’s only comment when they eventually re-emerged was to remark that ideally 007 would not have misplaced one of his cufflinks, and his collar ought to be completely stain-free).

“A martini,” they hear Robin say confidently now, before he trails off and squints, puzzled, at an expectant Granny, as though hoping she might be able to fill in the rest of his order.

“Shaken,” supplies Henry in an overloud whisper, “not stirred!”

“The bloody difference does it make, whether you shake or stir the damn thing?” grunts Batman, holding a shot of what Henry can only presume to be rum and trying, without much success, to empty its contents into his mouth rather than all over the stiffly protruding edges of his mask.

Robin, meanwhile, inclines his head toward Henry with a “Thank you, Quartermaster” before turning smoothly back to readdress Granny. “Right, Madam Lucas – or should I say the venerable Agent Carter, I do love what you’ve done with your hair, it’s remarkably fetching – well, I believe you heard the lad—”

Ruffling Henry’s hair, Catwoman Mom excuses herself and slinks away to tease at a surly-looking Batman. Mom M waves her hand over a bar napkin until it develops a faint, sparkly glow, primly dabbing it at her mouth and cleanly removing all of her lipstick. With a sly wink at Henry, she makes her way over to Robin – now enthusiastically introducing himself as “Bond, James Bond” to anyone within earshot – and presses a kiss in greeting to his temple.

Robin slips an arm around her waist, pulling her onto his lap, and then they proceed to more or less beam at each other in a way that Henry is fairly certain would qualify as sacrilegious, as far as MI-6 is concerned.

There’s an exuberant series of blipping and blooping sounds originating from somewhere near Henry’s elbow then, and he glances down to find a curly-haired BB-8 carrying what looks to be an assortment of sweets as well as cutlery, coffee creamers, and mayonnaise packets.

“Beep-beep-bop-bop-boop?” asks BB-8 with a hopeful expression, extending his arms for Henry’s inspection.

“Yes, I think these will do,” says Henry solemnly, already singling out the better pieces of chocolate amongst the Tootsie Rolls and the individually sized condiments. “Let’s get to work, then, shall we?”

Hello Again

Request: I love your writing so much and could you possibly do a part 2 to I hate goodbyes if not it’s okay ily xoxo

Warnings: gross/violent-ish, fluff, argument

Word Count: 2002

Author: Gwen

Part One

A low drawn out whistle echoed through the deep chambers of Hell with the click of shoes coming closer to your cell. The stone walls and floors provided no warmth as you sat in the corner chained up. Pain still spread through your body as your skin slowly healed itself. Slash marks were silently sewed back up and broken bones cracking back into place. Running your fingers through your hair to smooth it back only reminded you of the missing patches that were pulled out earlier.

“Was wondering how long it would take.” You snapped your attention to the footsteps closing in on your cell. “Crowley.”

He stood in front of your cell, peering into your small space. “Comfy, pet?”

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Suho- The Bet



A/N: This is nowhere on my request or personal list but I was just in class the other day doing my physics lab then suddenly this popped into my head. HEHE so I HOPE YOU LIKE IT.

AND GUYS PLEASE DON”T GET ME WRONG IN THIS FIC, I LOOOOVE ROME OF C-CLOWN AND HAVE NOTHING AGAINST HIM, tbh I was gonna do Kris at first but he didn’t seem fit enough, but Rome on the other hand, I just thought his bad boy side really fit this and his neck is reallllyyyyyy super sexy hot soooooooo anywayssssss carrying on…..

AND btw, for those of you who aren’t a Crown or Salt, ‘Byu’ is also Rome

AND I don’t really play cards (yeah I know, some kind of Asian I am) so I had a friend explain a game to me, and tried reallyyyyyy hard to interpret it. So I’m really sorry if that part gets a bit confusing.


His eyes bored holes into your face, you wanted to look at him but you couldn’t, you didn’t have enough confidence to face him, you weren’t in the position to have the right to look at him. It was wrong, looking at him would just pierce your heart even more and when he was gone you’d have to hold your tears back, your mind would be clogged with images of his face. You’d rather hold it in now then pay the price later.

“______-ah. Come here.” Said the man you were standing behind. His voice cold. Your legs shook as you stepped towards him. Your head was down, and hands held together in front of you.

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