disbelieving gif


[7/10 female characters] - natasha rostova, war and peace

Natasha was happy as she had never been in her life. She was at that highest pitch of happiness, when one becomes completely good and kind, and disbelieves in the very possibility of evil, unhappiness, and sorrow.

The shadow of a figure danced across the floorboards, an outline of someone bent lazily against the door frame. A single golden lamp illuminated the room, and just that light was enough to make out a pair of glimmering blue eyes in the inky darkness. Your heart faltered, breath hitching in your throat-

“Kai?” You whispered, your voice shaking.

He melted out of the darkness, handsome as ever, familiar goofy grin plastered to his flushed lips. 

“Hi,” he breathed lightly.

And just like that, the crushing pain of loss you’d been drowning in for years was gone, and he was here in the flesh, and god, you loved him so damn much. Tears clawing at your eyes, your voice was lost as you bolted across the room, plummeting straight into his outstretched arms, sobbing uncontrollably into the soft fabric of his tee. You couldn’t believe it. That overpowering cologne was his, those firm arms locking around your waist were his, and that heartbeat strumming in his chest was his.

“Is it really you?” you wept in shock, fingers clawing into his back as you pressed tighter, wanting to know that this feeling was real.

“It’s me, sweetheart,” he cooed, his hand coming up to your head, the feeling of his cool rings gliding across your skin as he ran his fingers through your hair.

You released him, bending up on your tip-toes to reach his perfectly sculpted face. You trailed your fingertips lightly over his features in awe, finger pads gliding across his jawline, stubble, and tracing around his lips. 

“Malachai?” you whispered again, still disbelieving. “How do I know I’m not hallucinating?”

His fingers crawled under your chin, raising your head so your eyes were forced to meet his brilliant blue ones.

“Because if you were,” his voice rumbled deeply, “you wouldn’t feel this.”

His eyes fluttered closed, full lips coming gently to lock with yours. His hands went slithering around your waist, lips conjoined like two puzzle pieces, the taste of his mouth intoxicating. His nose squished against yours as he dipped in deeper for the briefest of moments before drawing back.

“Believe me now?” he asked gently.

But you didn’t need to answer, for the tears streaming down your cheeks told the answer. Kai brushed off your tears before bringing his fingers to pull away your loose strands of hair affectionately back into place. You brought your forehead to his, arms swinging around his neck, the aching in your heart numbing with every second he held you.

“I promised you I’d go to hell and back for you,” he murmured.

There are so many ambiguous lines in The Force Awakens, that it makes my head spin. So many scenes that have hidden meanings, or purposefully flow into another scene that makes you on a subconscious level see the parallels. Combine those scenes with the novelization, and each time I watch it I see/hear something I hadn’t noticed before. A few lines that stand out to me:

1) ‘We’re Not Done Yet’. - Star Killer Base is exploding all around them, he just killed his father, he has a MAJOR wound to his side from Chewie’s bowcaster that could make him bleed out, yet Kylo does what? He trudges out into the snow to find the 'traitor’ and Rey. All bets are off here. What did he have to gain/prove by killing/capturing them? What did he think he would do, anyway? Try to probe Rey’s mind again for the map? Kill Finn for disowning the First Order? Yeah, that was such a high priority at the moment, while his life was literally ending before our eyes. Maybe his anger drove him, or his helplessness at his actions with Han. Maybe he was afraid to come to Snoke empty handed, yet I can’t see how that one holds water. He just killed his father, for God’s sake. He did the ultimate act of proof for that monster that he was obedient. He could have left well enough alone, and lived to fight another day. For all Kylo knew, Finn and Rey might have died on the imploding planet. Problem solved for him. But nope. He went after them, with one intent as far as I can see: He wanted Rey. Dealing with Finn was a distraction. But his words to her, 'We’re not done yet’, were directed to her alone and because even though he might not have known who she was yet (It is you- the novel) he had a good idea from the interrogation and her escape that she was someone important to his future. He was jealous (that she was with Finn) he was angry (that she witnessed what should have been his 'finest’ hour - killing Han, yet he was at his weakest) and he was lost (that he did this unspeakable act that was supposed to make him stronger, only to feel even more guilty, alone, confused, and pulled towards the light). There was NO way he was letting her go without a fight. And I don’t even think he meant to harm her at all. She pulled the blaster on him first, prompting him to save his skin by sending her flying into the tree, and she attacked with Luke’s saber first, prompting him to engage her in a duel. Rey drew first blood.

2) 'The Girl I’ve Heard So Much About’. - Okay. From whom? Unless it was offscreen, in which case they should have included it in the finished cut, because how the hell did he hear so much about 'The Girl’ when the only person who he spoke to about it was Mitaka. Did Mitaka have a dosier on Rey? Did he question everyone at Niima Outpost and learn all about Rey and her non-existent flying skills? Because all he said to Ren were those seven words. All he said was 'The two were accompanied by a girl.’ You’d think that because this 'girl’ was going to play such an important role in Kylo’s life going forward, that we would have been privy to what he’d 'heard’ about her. We don’t see Kylo investigating her, or gathering intel on her after Mitaka tells him this. I can understand his attention when the Stormtrooper said in the Forest that the droid was spotted with the girl, and why he fled to find the one who helped the droid and FN-2187 escape. But his weird line to her, 'The Girl I’ve Heard So Much About’, makes ZERO sense to me. Is it purposefully ambiguous? Are we to think he knows more than we think? Was it an error? Even paralyzed Rey looks at him like, 'Huh?’ How could you possibly know me? It’s this reason that I feel he knows ALL about her, in some way. It’s the only possible explanation for the novels line 'It Is You’. Whether he knows of her but never met her (As JJ Abrams said Rey and Kylo never met), or he feels she is the reason for the Force awakening, or if he’d had visions of her like she had of him, he has to have had some inkling of who Rey was. The fact he flipped out on Mitaka and almost choked him is another indicator. So a girl helped them escape. Was it really so surprising that a Good Samaritan on that planet could have helped Finn and BB8 out? Maybe she was a pilot, or a smuggler. Whatever. His reaction was very telling. He’s heard so much about this girl, because he knows this girl in one way, shape, or form.

3) 'Don’t Be Afraid, I Feel It Too.’ - Yeah. This is probably the most ambiguous line of all. As is the probing look Kylo gives Rey before he voices it. It’s clear to me that he is reacting to whatever Rey is thinking in that moment, and whatever it is, it MUST be something about him. And that something must NOT be negative. Because if she’s thinking 'He’s a creature, a monster, etc. I doubt Kylo’s reaction would be 'Don’t be afraid, I feel it too. If she’s thinking 'I hate him, I want to kill him, etc. again, I doubt his reaction would be 'Don’t be afraid, I feel it too.'He doesn’t hate her, nor want her dead. If he did, she would have been mistreated, bloodied, beaten, raped, or killed. He took care of her before, during, and after the interrogation by seeing no harm came to her. The only conclusion to me on not only why Kylo looked at her with such surprise before he said it and the words he used, was because somewhere in Rey’s mind she felt him interesting, attractive, and she was curious about him the same way he was curious about her. Kylo saw/heard this in her thoughts, and it puzzled him. Anti’s say Rey was terrified in this scene, and that she had no interest in her captor, etc. Yet her reaction speaks for itself. When he removed his mask, she did not look terrified. She looked startled and a bit disoriented. She didn’t expect THAT to be what she had thought a creature. And she seemed pretty self conscious and embarrassed at his calling her a scavenger, yet she usually wore that moniker as a badge of honor. Here he is, a handsome, young, high ranking and probably wealthy officer while she is a dirt poor scavenger who hasn’t had proper nutrition or grooming. In that moment, she was like any woman would be when faced with a man she found attractive despite herself: she was embarrassed that she was a nobody. Yet she held her own pretty damn well with NO help. By the end of the scene, she had the upper hand in every way. After her turning the tables on him, using his greatest fear against him, he could have hurt her or worse. He turned tail and fled to his Master for help. He was afraid of Rey, and needed Snoke’s 'guidance’. The only reason the mind probe hurt was because she resisted so firmly. You’d thiink with his temper, he would have injured her. But no, he never touched her. Why? Because he was already interested in her. Already had COMPASSION for her. And whatever it was he saw in her thoughts, HE FELT IT TOO.

4) 'Rey’. - I’ve shown this scene to friends, family, tumblr friends, my doctor, my mailman, my dry cleaner, etc. They all see and hear what I see and hear. After Rey defeats Kylo and he’s lying in he snow, before he sits up and gives her a look that is equal parts awed, smitten, disbelieving, shocked, and helpless…he moans (probably in exhaustion and pain) and says the word 'Rey’. I’ve heard people say he was just moaning gibberish. Or the word Okay (???) Or it was just a sound of discomfort at his defeat. Whatever. Sure, I’m a Reylo Shipper. And the part of me that WANTS a Reylo pairing to come to fruition would gladly make things up to head in that direction. Yet I’ve seen this scene on my ultra HD tv which is 60 inches and has surround sound, on youtube on my laptop, on my I Phone, on the TV’s at Best Buy (you get the picture) And you cannot tell me in that scene Kylo does not say the word Rey in a voice filled with pride and longing and yes…passion. She’s just bested him (wounded or not) after they 'Found the Force together’. Show of hands of people who thought he would orgasm right there on the edge of that cliff as he watched her meditate. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her Light. Since I think he now 'know’s her, I think he is even more drawn to her and wants her even more. He just begged her to let him be her teacher. So he is pretty stoked to see her use that beautiful rage he finds so attractive in her, even if it was against him. I’d hate to sound like he was fueled by lust in this scene, since it’s a family movie and PG-13. But the way I heard him say Rey? I expected him to light up a cigarette while he was down for the count on his fine ass. I think dueling with her REALLY excited him, and I hope to see more of that in TLJ.

So yeah. I waste a lot of time thinking about these kind of things. All I can say in my defense is if The Powers That Be didn’t want fans to obsess about this kind of stuff, then they shouldn’t do such a good job at leaving things so open to interpretation. :D

IMAGINE: Logan wasn’t someone who laughed often. In fact, the only time Logan ever really did anything but frown was when he was smiling sarcastically or chuckling in bemusement. And after a long and gruelling mission that had lasted a week, Logan had been particularly sour. Everyone in the mansion was shocked, even disbelieving, when they found him laughing hysterically because of you. At first you’d sought him out with the intention of trying to break his sour mood but now it was all accidental on your part. Still, it was a good feeling.

If you only knew

Word Count: 1.3K+
Pairing: Kurt Wagner x Reader (No gender specified)
Summary: Kurt is terrified of how much he likes you, so he begins praying to God to make his feelings for you disappear. When that doesn’t work, he’s sure he has to punish himself for feeling the way he does. Based on this headcanon by @ichimatsu-boi and this request.
Warnings: Mentions of self-harm.

The first time Kurt saw you, he hadn’t been able to understand why, all of a sudden, he’d felt like there were little birds flapping their wings wildly inside his stomach.

You had been a student at Xavier’s already when he got there– but he hadn’t gotten to meet you properly until two weeks after his arrival, when you had come looking for Jubilee to finish a project you two were doing together. You had introduced yourself to Ororo, Peter, Scott and then… to him. You had offered your hand with a bright smile, and when he touched it, he felt like a jolt of electricity had run from his fingers directly to his heart.

He didn’t know what that meant.

The next time he was face to face with you was when you had come to him and Jubilee with a plate filled with cookies you’d baked yourself, offering them some. When he’d tried them and told you they were delicious, your entire face had lit up– and the little birds had returned to his stomach, flapping their wings even harder than the first time. Something in him told him that he needed to see you shining that brightly again because of something he’d said– desperately.

He didn’t know what that meant.

You spent a lot of time outside given the fact that your mutation was directly connected with nature, and every time he saw you sitting on the grass, making little flowers appear on the ground with just the sheer power of your will, his hands started sweating and his heartbeat increased dramatically.

He didn’t know what that meant.

It wasn’t until he caught Scott and Jean kissing one time and something deep inside him told him he wished he could do that with you that he finally knew what everything you made him feel meant.

He liked you.

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Somebody get me an ice-pack because this this thing got steamy! I did not intend for it to go this way - at all, I promise - but sometimes there is nothing I can do. Anyway, you guys really liked Plague and, after uploading it to AO3, it did so well, I figured to ignore my rule of only doing 4 parts and carry on with it. Difficult to say when I will stop but so far you guys seem to like it and I enjoy writing it so let’s keep at it, shall we? I think @summeroffortyfives and @tmntloverxd would appreciate being tagged in this (also @arabella-loves-coffee). Enjoy, my darlings!

Prompt: I know its really soon to ask this but could you please do a part 5 to it. About the aftermath of the kiss like if they become a couple or something like that

The feelsssssss from your stories. Anything Loki x reader especially.

Plague (Part 5)

Part 4

“What we did-” Loki began.
“What you did.” You corrected him. He growled a little at the interruption.
“Regardless; what happened yesterday was completely accidental. And moreover, it was wrong.”
“Absolutely.” You agreed.
“We shouldn’t have done it.”
“No, we shouldn’t.”

Earlier that day you had had your fingers tangled in Loki’s hair and your body pressed against him, practically fused together with the heat of passion. It had been the first time since having a cold that your temperature was not a result of your affliction. Since then the two of you had avoided each other completely, neither able to admit the obvious or deny it. Your emotions were a dangerous and toxic combination that you couldn’t fathom. Loki felt the same – the premise of falling for a Midgardian was sickening and strange to the God. He couldn’t be sure it was real, or right. Thus the current conversation was the first time the two of you had spoken since then. Be it through avoiding eye contact or evading dialogue with each other, the two of you had practiced extensive measures to ensure that you need never address the situation.

And that had lasted for a few hours.

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Series Title: True Love Gave to Me

Chapter Title: Day 4 - Holiday Party

Character: Jason Crouse

TV: The Good Wife

Warnings: None.

NOTE: The character Betty Nylund is portrayed by Betty White. The dirty quote that she uses in the story, is in fact something that she has said.

Photo/GIF credits go to the original maker/owner

Tag @averymerryspnxmas

I flung myself back on to the bed, groaning.

“What?” Jason chuckled, buttoning up his shirt.

“I understand if you don’t want to go.”

My grandmother, Betty Nylund, was throwing a Holiday party at her home. Jason had yet to meet her and I was fearful that he’d run for the hills.

He crawled on the bed, laying next to me with his hand propping up his head.

“Why are so adamant about me not going?” He lifted my shirt, placing his warm hand on my stomach.

I gave him a disbelieving look, “I’ve told you some horror stories.”

Jason got on top of me, pinning my arms next to my head, “And I’ve told you that I’m not like other men.”

His eyes traveled over my face as I worried my bottom lip. Swooping down, he captured mouth in a slow, searing kiss.

“I promise to tell you if I get uncomfortable.” He whispered, pecking my lips between every other word.

I slowly blinked when his lips left mine. His rubbed the tip of his nose with mine and smiled, “Trust me Darlin’.”
Jason put the truck in park across the street, dipping his head down to look out the passenger window.

“Betty has a nice home.”

I nodded, fidgeting, “She does.”

Gran had her house decorated to the nines with Christmas lights. Through the sheer curtains you could see people mingling.

It was mostly older folks who’ve known Gran since her early years.

I put my hands on my cheeks, patting them lightly.

Jason laughed, “What are you doing?”

“Pinched cheeks. No matter how old I’ve gotten, they always pinch my cheeks. I want to remember what it’s like to have feeling in them.”

Jason reached over, pinching the apple of my cheek, “Yeah, you do have pinchable cheeks.”

I glared at him, but smiled, “You do that again and I’ll smack the shit outta you.”

Giving me a cheeky grin, he pulled me closer to him, “Promises, promises.”

I gave Jason a quick kiss, my nerves to jumbled to really focus, “Come on, let’s go inside.”
I rang the doorbell and rocked back on my heels, “Just know, that no matter what happens… I love you.”

Jason looked slightly worried, but laughed, “Geez, you’re making it sound like dead man walking.”

I snorted, “That may be the case… I want a cigarette and a huge slice of birthday cake for my last meal.”

He shook his head, throwing an arm over my shoulders and kissing my temple.

As soon as Grandma opened the door, we were greeted with loud cheers and upbeat Christmas music.

Betty Nylund stood at just 5'0, her blonde hair styled just right and her makeup flawless.

She clasped her hands, bringing them to her mouth, “My sweet, sweet Granddaughter!”

She held out her arms, quickly bringing me into her embrace.

“Hey Gran.” I said, happy to see her.

She gave me a good squeeze, “Ohhh! And who is this?” She asked, eyes wide, the mischief lurking just below the surface.

Jason put his hand out, smiling, “Jason Crouse, Ma'am.”

He shook her hand gently. Gran put her other hand on top of his, looking him up and down.

“Well aren’t you a looker!”

“Oh god…” I groaned, quietly.

“Come in, come in!”

I grabbed Jason’s hand, pulling him into the some what crowded house.

“Oh, is this little Y/N Whistler?!"  Gayle Brunner, a close friend of Gran’s, cried out happily. She came over and pinched my cheeks.

"Hi, Mrs. Brunner.” I said, trying not to wince as she wiggled my face from side to side.

She smiled, patted my cheeks and moved on.

I sighed, turning to Jason, “Give me your jacket, Jase.”

He flinched when he saw how red my cheeks were, “You weren’t kidding.”

Shaking my head, I took his jacket and mine and hung them up.

I was stopped several more times on my way back to Jason, my cheeks getting pinched by every other person.

When I finally made it to him, he held his arms out, embracing me with a sympathetic chuckle.

“I can’t feel my face,”

“Sorry, Honey.” He said, kissing my head. “Want a drink?”

“Dear gawd, yes!”

He squeezed me, his hand grazing my back as he went to the open bar.

I sat in the big bay window, watching the crowd chat and laugh as Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas played through the speakers.

I softly began to sing along.

Jason came back, handing me a spiked Eggnog.

“Thank you,” I said, leaning up to kiss him.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” he said, meeting my lips.

I blushed, taking a sip of the Eggnog.

“Y/N has a very lovely voice.” Grandma commented. “You should hear her sing ‘Hallelujah’ with her cousins.”

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as they reddened.

Jason looked down at me, smiling.

Mr. Reynolds, Gran’s neighbor, tapped her on the shoulder. She turned, immediately turning the flirt on.

Jason sat next to me, wrapping his arm around my bent legs, his chin on my knees, “You going to sing for me one day?”

I could never get used to having someone shower me with so much attention the way Jason did.

“Maybe,” I said, winking.

He squeezed my thigh, taking a drink of his own Eggnog.

The song ended and I could hear Grandma’s conversation, “My muffin hasn’t had a cherry since 1939.” She giggled.

Jason’s eyes widened, his mouth agape. I face palmed, groaning.

I could feel his shoulders shaking with silent laughter as he pulled my hand away.

“I think I see what you mean.”

I gave him a pointed look, “Told ya.”
Grandma clapped, gaining the crowds attention, “I just want to thank everyone for coming out. It’s been an absolute pleasure to see each of you.”

She paused, coming over to where Jason and I were sitting, “I’d also like to thank my wonderful granddaughter, Y/N, for coming and bringing her lovely man, Jason, as well.”

She cupped Jason’s bearded cheeks, and placed a kiss on his forehead. He blushed, giving her a sweet smile. Gran then came over to me, doing the same, “It does an old woman good to see her beautiful Granddaughter happy and healthy.”

“I love you too, Gran.”

Patting my cheeks, she smiled and turned back to the small crowd, “So now, it’s time for gifts!”

Gran handed out hers. When she got down to the end of her pile, she grabbed the last box and gave it to me, “This is for you and Jason. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Nylund.” Jason said.

Gran waved her hand at him, “Oh please, call me Betty.”

Jason nodded, “Merry Christmas, Betty. Thank you for having us.”

Her eyes lit up, “Oh, he’s definitely a keeper, Y/N.” She complimented.

I kissed Jason’s cheek, “Yes, he is Gran.”
It wasn’t until later when we got back to my place that I dared to open the gift.

The box sat on the coffee table. I stood there, staring at it as if it held the worlds worst secret.

Jason came up behind me, his arms circling my waist. His bearded chin tickled as he propped it on my shoulder, “I don’t hear any ticking, so it’s not a bomb,”

I snorted, “Could be… ya never know.”

Jason kissed my neck, “Open it. I’ll get the drinks.”

I watched him go to the kitchen and sighed.

I knelt at the coffee table and ripped the paper. The squat box was medium in length.

Taking off the top, I set it aside and pulled away the tissue paper.

“Oh my god!” I hollered, slapping the top back on.

“What!?” Jason came back to the living room, looking around.

Trying to look innocent, I jerked the box to my chest, “Nothing…”

Jason smiled, his tounge peeking out from between his teeth, “Let me see.”

“Nope! Nuhuh!” I stood, going to the fireplace.

“Ah!” Jason ran over to me, grabbing me at the waist.

The box fell from my arms, opening when it connected with the floor.

Keeping one arm around my waist, Jason reached out with the other, picking up the gift Gran had gotten us.

“Shit…” I whispered.

Jason busted out laughing as the tissue paper fell from the barely there teddy.

It was ice blue in color and honestly would only cover the important bits.

Jason dangled it in my face, whispering in  my ear, “Want to model it for me?”

I scoffed, elbowing him lightly as we laughed.

He dropped the lingerie, spinning me around and kissing the very breath from me as his hands roamed my body.

Apparently, you guys think every chapter with a cliffhanger is the ending for this story. Do you really think me that cruel? Actually, don’t answer that. I know for a fact that I love writing tragic endings. However don’t worry this one will make you all happy again. I owe apologies to @arabella-loves-coffee, @gilgamesh-in-a-dress, and @vastudent3 for the heartache I apparently caused (especially you Cat, sorry about the make-up). But otherwise, enjoy!

Prompt: OMG, please tell me" I “didn’t died! And Loki stood there for "me” and actually confront his feelings and trying to accept them… Ok that’s it, I love you despite the fact you broke my heart…

Holy crap, that Plague fic was literally the best MCU thing I have read in a long long time! I just wanted you to know!


Plague (Part 8)

Part 7

You didn’t know what death was supposed to feel like. All the songs and movies say that it’s peaceful and calm, like falling asleep, but you were certain that you shouldn’t be conscious enough to contemplate it.

The bright white had become a sudden dark. White was now black and the sky was no longer singing. Instead you heard a faint dripping – blip… blip… blip… – accompanied by a crackling that seemed to echo and resonate around you. In a surge of courage and hope, you peeled your eyes apart and stared upwards. The ceiling was grey and brown all at once, contoured in the strangest of ways and decorated with moving shadows, black creatures that scurried across the russet landscape. They were rocks. The ceiling was made of rocks. A cave?

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Dean held the video tape, staring at Sam with the most effective puppy eyes he could pull, but his brother wasn’t having it. -If Gabriel gave us that video with (Y/N)’s name on it, it can’t be anything good and she won’t like it.- Dean smirked, staring at the tape in his hands. -Exactly, Sam. Just imagine the possibilities!- for a second, Dean sees Sammy consider and he can clearly notice the doubt and temptation in his little brother’s face, but then it disappears again. -No, Dean, I ain’t watching that video.- The older brother looks at Sam for a second before sitting on the sofa, in front of the TV. -Well, I am.- Sam protested a little more before surrending and sitting down next to his brother. -She will hate us if it’s something embarrasing…- -She isn’t here. And she said she’ll be gone for another two hours. She will never know!- Dean said. The video was simple, yet shocking. A friend of (Y/N)’s, invisible because he was standing behind the camera, was filming her face and she was laughing. That was already odd. Even though Dean tried his best to make her laugh, (Y/N) didn’t laughed much. Both brothers loved the moments when they got to see her whole body moving because she was laughing so hard but, with the life they had, those moments were rare. (Y/N) was a badass hunter and the best of friends but not the happiest in the group. Could you blame any of them for not laughing much? I think not. After a few seconds of pure laughter, the camera focused on the TV where Dean, with a rather goofy face, was paused. -Oh, it’s that world where we’re actors…- Sam said, realising Gabriel’s first intentions. Dean told him to shut up as he watched (Y/N)’s laugh at his face on the TV. And then she started talking and both brothers went silent. “-Even with that freacking face he’s super gorgeous!!! Why!!?!? Did he made a pact with a demon or something!? I just don’t get it! I do that face and I look horrible. He does that face and I still want him to bang me against a wall!-” the friend filming (Y/N) laughed hard at her words in the video. In the tape, (Y/N) kept watching Supernatural, and reacting to it. Everytime Dean was close to her screen, she would just cover her face and started talking about how unfair his greatness was. Sam laughed at Dean’s shocked face until the (Y/N) in the video got to a part of the show where he took his shirt off. “-Sammy! Damn! Ok, yeah, I’m a Dean girl but for God’s sake, if you don’t put your shirt back on, I might be changing my mind!-” The video stopped then and Dean stared at the black screen in disbelieve. -That was…interesting…- Sam nodded, trying to controll the smile that was trying to show up in his face. Just as Dean was standing up to take the video out, (Y/N) entered the room with two bags of food. -I’m back, boys! And yes, Dean, I brought you pie… What? Why are you looking at me like that?- Dean’s smirk was obvious and (Y/N) was staring at him now, confused. -So…- Sam begged Dean mentally to not give anything away but it was too late. -…you’re a Dean girl, huh?-

An Unmasking:

“There is a face beneath this mask, but it isn’t me. I am no more that face than I am the muscles beneath it, or the bones beneath that.”-Steve Moore

At first the black cloth, stretching over the brim of his nose and obscuring the lower half of his face, meant to serve as a show of boldness, an ensconce to shield his features whom even at the tender age of five was moulded to resemble that of Hatake Sakumo. He wanted no part of it, the ardent whispers and lingering stares that seemed to follow his father like an ominous cloud whenever Konoha’s White Fang felt well enough to venture from the compound. Perchance the cool press of fabric made it easier to face the man he always looked up to, to drink in the now pallid jaw and sunken eyes, without revealing the twist of his own mouth or the confused crinkle of his nose. And as the pit of disgrace became cavernous, the very comrades whose lives the Hatake Head chose to honour before his duty at the forefront of the condemning fray; the mask became an aide-mémoire to remind him of what happened to those who strayed from the just guidelines weaving the Ninja Code. A shinobi must never show any weakness.’


The mask, moist with the beads of rain soaking the memorial grounds, now acted as a cold buffer between the newly graduated Genin and all those who believed otherwise. He would be a model shinobi, persistent in his desire to complete any and all missions given to him, whilst effectively erasing the shroud of pity now weighing down his frame, an aspiration that only kindled and hissed at the press of the Sandaime’s aged palm against his shoulder, grey hues refusing to peer up underneath the wide brim of the Kage hat. Though his intent desire to cling to his guise and all it came to mean was at odds with every team he was assigned to, the boy still managed as to complete several missions, the success wholly expected and all that really mattered in the long run. A shinobi must always put the mission first.’


It wasn’t until Kakashi swept his shrewd, leaden gaze over his supposedly new ‘team’, that he felt his success rate might start to suffer. The kunoichi of the team, with her almond strands and thoughtful pools seemed far too meek to be a soldier of the Hidden Leaf, a datum only emphasised by her warm greeting and the way she clasped nimble fingers behind her back, apron seams swaying in the mid-morning breeze. From what the silver-haired boy remembered of his year within the academy, Rin Nohara had proficient chakra control and was rather perceptive, he could only hope said attributes were honed within their time apart. Their Jōnin sensei, though lean and towering appeared equally sub-par with his messy, golden tuffs and airy grin. Hitherto Kakashi knew it would be rash to blatantly underestimate a man of his rank, if anything Minato-sensei might very well be making an allowance for their skill level, this being their first training session together. It was the –third- member of their merry band that really chafed the young Hatake’s nerves; the Uchiha’s breaths still coming in sharp gasps as he rested his hands on top of his knees. Not only was the idiot late, but he was also wearing a getup that could scarcely be seen as functional, the bright, orange goggles reflecting the sunlight snootily in Kakashi’s direction and causing his eye to twitch. Why he had to be placed on a team with the loud-mouthed, crybaby was beyond the firm Genin, a hand palming his face in annoyance, whilst the dark-haired boy continued to sprout nonsense about his likeness being carved into the Hokage Mountain. A flock of birds bristled at the commotion before breaking through the ever-green treetops and the Hatake had half the mind to follow after them. That way he could swiftly make his way to the Fire Tower to glower at the old man in person; but he would not, no matter how tempting the mental image. As a rule, all squad collations were final and as a model shinobi, Kakashi would never query a decision of the Sandaime. Kakashi only hoped that the thin material of his mask would serve as a capable barrier against Obito. Stupidity might be contagious, after all. “A shinobi must always follow their commander’s instructions.”


It was with repellent regret that Kakashi found himself within the memorial grounds once more, the heartfelt snuffles of Rin resounding from his right. It was folly how the clear, blue skies could be so disloyal to her feelings, to his feelings. He had only just come to realize that perhaps Obito wasn’t such a fool and that Rin, though benign to her very core, nowhere near as feeble as he initially imagined. They had so many missions ahead of them too, missions in which he could prove that he was a capable, trustworthy captain and that it wasn’t his own simple superiority that caused him to lose a dear comrade. A friend. Folding in on himself the Jōnin dragged his lone, grey hue to the stone looming ahead, the sunny rays reflecting off of the worn, orange goggles as easily as they always did. Rin shifted beside him, wiping furtively at her damp, flushed cheeks, before she moved to rest the bouquet of pale, pink Myrtles next to their teammate’s treasure. Kakashi idly noted how the frail petals were used to represent love, the small gesture somewhat wistful as the Kunoichi finally returned the Uchiha’s feelings. All in all it caused a lodge to form within the Jōnin’s throat and a faint prickle to surge underneath his scarred lid. Kakashi would not cry however, not when he promised to be strong for Rin and not when his mask was now reminiscent of all he had yet to lose. “A shinobi should never show his tears.”


He should have known as a hailed prodigy that one could never truly escape the cruel talons of fate, much less all it promised. The Third Shinobi War has been dragging on for far too long and commiserations had been clinging to his ankles as it did to his father before him.  Until now Kakashi never expected that he would fail his last promise, that his inabilities as a Shinobi and teammate would run this deep. His own wide and disbelieving hues reflected back at him through Rin’s glossy hazel, tears finally dribbling down her chin as the high-pitched chirrup of Chidori died down. Kakashi retracted his fist, the sickly squelch of her chest causing the Jōnin’s knees to buckle, before an arm lifted to press her against his shoulder. They could have made it. He could have saved her. All they had to do was pass through the border of Wave country and meet up with their faction of reinforcements. Only Rin had no intention of making her way back home, her keen mind already aware of the true reason as to why the Isobu was sealed within her. He should have surmised that his refusal would not have been enough, that Rin’s loyalty to Konoha outshined the weight of his long-made oath. The dispirited voices of the Kiri-nin sounded like mere echoes in his ears when Rin finally slipped from his hold, body crumpling against the soaked earth like a Suna puppet whose chakra strings have been cut. As his own vision obscured with tinges of black, tomoe twisting into the portent of the Mangekyō; a single, embittered thought wafted through Kakashi’s subconscious. “A shinobi should be able to see underneath the underneath.”


Their deaths still plagued his dreams, still haunted each step and throw of his kunai. Nevertheless the teen endeavoured to cover the effects of his restlessness via the familiar veneer of his mask and a callous posture. Minato Namikaze was irritatingly discerning when needed however and it wasn’t long before the Jōnin found himself slumped within the newly  appointed Yondaime’s office, arms crossed and a nonchalant gleam within his visible hue. Kakashi has taken to covering his scarred lid with his hitae-ate, hiding his bequest from view. He maintained that the action was due to the Sharigan taking a toll on his chakra reserves when constantly in use, as well as a means to placate the indignant Uchiha clan. But the silver-haired Shinobi knew that his true, inner-most reasoning orbited about his feelings of self-reproach. He had failed to keep his promise and as such he couldn’t bring himself to face the stark, telling crimson, lest in the face of an enemy. His sensei suggested he join the ANBU, that it would be good for him to focus on his missions instead of his losses. Thus, never one to qualm the word of the Yellow Flash, the Jōnin enforced his cloth mask with one of bone-white porcelain. Kakashi believed that he was finally doing what he was supposed to, as the tart scent of copper seeped into the very fibres of his skin, never to be washed away. Hatake Kakashi wasn’t meant to protect, to cherish. He was meant to break and obliterate. Hence his utmost uncertainty when the Hokage recalled him from his current duties to serve as the sole figure he was always unable to. A surge of incense bubbled within his chest, causing his tainted finger-pads to curl into the black fabric obscuring his palms. ‘What was Minato-sensei thinking? Surely he had more sense when it came to the likes of Kushina-sama…’ Even with said thought churning within his mind, the teen went about his top-secret mission with the same vigour as he did any command, tailing the boisterous Jinchūriki as if he was her second, though infinitely more opaque, shadow. And when the time came to conclude his ten month mission, surrendering his seemingly terrifying task to the more capable hands of his superiors, Kakashi felt himself rather reluctant.

He had no reason to doubt the proficiency of his elders, there was after all no ninja more capable that those honoured to be the Sandaime’s personal guard. They had more experience than him, more knowledge in the workings of Fūinjutsu, assuredly the better soldier. Perhaps they too would come to find comfort in the Kunoichi’s coarse laugh, her astonishing ability to haggle with the vendors for better dumpling prices and the way she always left a bowl of miso soup on the ledge for him come lunch time. With a breath the ANBU operative branded his hesitancy as a mere break in habit, nothing more. Ten months, though not the longest run for a mission, was certainly long enough as to evoke a routine. If only he sought to scrutinize the chill in the air that night, the portentous trace that set the fine hairs on the back of neck on end. Perhaps then he could have prevented some of the damage that was sure to follow. On duty or not- “A shinobi must prepare for what is to come…before it is too late to.”


Looking back at all that has come to pass; the twenty-three-year-old Jōnin came to the conclusion that he was not such a model Shinobi after all, nor did he think he deserved to be. He had lived his life wanting to shed the smouldering darkness that clung to the Hatake name, but ended up achieving the opposite until the murky tendrils all but consumed him. He wanted no part of the hushed murmurs that constantly followed his father’s frame, nipping at his self-respect like a weedy stray. Yet as Kakashi sauntered along the dusty path of the market district, paper bag cradled against his chest, he was well aware of the probing glances and off-hand remarks his presence aroused. He had come to reconcile with the fact that his mask had become one with him, that it was what the villagers had come to expect and that he would never be able to remove it without tearing into skin and muscle. Shifting from his position, Kakashi altered his lacklustre gaze to the two, small bells nestled within his palm, a faint jingling acknowledging his movement. Likewise he had come to accept that he would never be able to right the wrongs against the White Fang, that he would never be able to atone for the losses of his friends and certainly not for obeying the rules as they should have been: with enough leeway for impromptu responses against the enemy. What he could do was help the newer generation, those born without the hefty weight of war, to avoid his many, many mistakes. Closing his calloused fingers over the bells, the Shinobi paused to look at the stone faces peering over the Hidden Leaf in its entirety. The Village’s true protectors. Hai, even though he was undeserving of the title, he could help shape others into model shinobi (or come close) by instilling in them what was truly most important. “Teamwork is a shinobi’s most valued tool.”

#9. Heavenly Intervention (Sam & Angel!Reader)

“Sam.. Sam! Your hair! Watch the hair!”

You squeezed one eye shut, trying to find your way between the wild storm of overgrown locks flapping in your face. Being half-blind was not at all conducive to an escape..

“DOWN! DOWN!” he bellowed in response.

While you didn’t consider that the safest option, you realized you had little choice. Between the shouts and the hair and the swinging limbs, it was hard as hell to know if you were being pursued. There was no sign of the other angels, but that didn’t mean they weren’t close, ready to swoop. Best to get things settled so you could get away faster.

“All right! All right! Stop squirming!”

Below, a crop of farmland made for the perfect landing pad. No sooner had your feet touched the ground when Sam tried to wrench himself away. You allowed this.

“Poof!” he yelled.

“Excuse me?”

“POOF! POOF!” He was drained of color, and the way his throat bobbed made you quickly take a step back, just in case he decided to introduce his dinner to your shoes.

You frowned, concerned. You had heard Dean was afraid of flying, but it looked like the short trip had made something in the younger Winchester crack.

“Urr… maybe you should sit down for a minute…” you coaxed.

But rather than sit, Sam threw out his arms animatedly. His head was snapping from right to left, either trying to assess his location or looking for his lost ability to speak English.


“Oooh!” You pulled back the corner of your shirt to expose your left shoulder, revealing a circular patch of skin that rose higher than the rest, blistered and angry. “They put a seal on me, so I can’t … uh, ‘poof.’”

“Who’s they?” he sputtered.

“The ones who are out to kill you.”

His brow was furrowed in suspicion, but at least the color was returning to his cheeks.

“Who’s trying to kill me?”

“Some angels who don’t care for Cas. And I suppose they’re not crazy about me, either, now that I’m protecting you.”

His eyes narrowed, which was understandable. Not like the Winchesters had a lot of positive interactions with your kind as of late.

“And why do you care?”

“Because, Sammy, I’m your guardian angel.”

He went silent at that. Perhaps disbelieving, perhaps in denial, perhaps ready to make a run for it.

You pulled a hair tie from your wrist and passed it to him with a grin.

“Now, before we get going… Great as you smell, your hair’s kind of a flying hazard, so if you don’t mind?”


Sense8 | All I Want Right Now Is One More Bullet

At least we know the name of the restaurant.