do i give a sarcastic response

Send To All

Originally posted by ohstylesno

Requested by anonymous:

“hey there! I don’t know if you’re still doing 1D requests but I was wondering if I could request a Harry Styles imagine?? idk if you know of it but there’s a comedian called michael mcintyre who has a chat show and he has a segment called ‘send to all’ where he sends a mass text from the guests phone and reads the replies - anyways I was wondering if you could do a request where the reader is a celebrity and secretly dating Harry and their relationship gets exposed or something through this?? xx”

Warnings: None?? tiny bit of language and fluff I suppose

Notes: This gif has no relevance it just fucking kills me omg (also I’m so excited to write for harry eek)

“Good luck love, I know you’ll be amazing as always. Thinking of you and can’t wait to finally hold you in my arms tomorrow. H x” 

You felt your heart constrict and a buzz fill your body, a smile tugging up on your lips as your eyes scanned over the text your boyfriend had just sent you. Your thumbs hovered anxiously over the keyboard as you mulled over what you should reply with. You had just decided on replying with words teasing him about how he signed his texts just like his tweets when you were interrupted. 

“*yn*, we’re ready for you.” 

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Nice to meet you - Isaac Lahey

Originally posted by likelylahey

Summary: Isaac ((Y/N)’s current boyfriend) meets (Y/N)’s ex boyfriend and really doesn’t like him all that much.

I close my locker after grabbing out the folders that I needed to do homework in tonight. I was already over school and it was the first day. 

“Hey there” I jumped as I heard the voice. 

“Oh my god. Oliver?!” I squeal and hug him. “I haven’t seen you in like… 3 years?” He hugged me back and we laughed of pure joy. “What are you doing here?” 

“I thought I’d come and give my girl a visit” He winked. 

“What was that, buddy?” I turned around and saw Isaac with his arms crossed and a slight glare on his face. 

“Oh, uh Oliver. This is Isaac- “

“Her boyfriend” He says and sarcastically smiles at Oliver before unwrapping him arms and swinging one around my shoulder. He pulls me in close to his side and I can feel his heart beat and his muscles tensing. 

“Nice to meet you, Isaac. I’m Oliver.” Oliver sticks out a hand ready to shake Isaac’s but gets no response.

“Yeah, I know who you are. Look, whatever you and (Y/N) had in the past; its over and she’s with me now.” Oliver giggles at Isaac.

“Mate, you’ve got no idea. I’ll catch you later (Y/N)”. Oliver smiles and walks away.

“What is wrong with you?!” I turn to Isaac and slap him on the arm softly.

“I’m sorry, did you want him flirting with you?” Isaac glared at me. I broke out into a laugh which only angered him more. “Oh, come on (Y/N). He called you ‘his girl’. And he kept looking you up and down!”

“Oh, did he now?” Isaac rolled his eyes and began to walk off until I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Isaac. He’s gay. That’s why we broke up. He likes guys. He was probably looking you up and down - which I may have to tell him off about. Only I can do that.” I smirk and wrap my arms around his neck and lean in for a kiss. “I’ll catch you later then. Pick me up at 8?” I winked as I walked off. Gosh he’s an idiot… but I love him anyway.

This ones a little shorter than usual. I thought that I’d done a few serious imagines so it was time for a more light hearted one. And who better than Daniel Sharman who I actually met around this time last year! Such a kind and funny dude. I was giggling just thinking about him doing this. If anyone wants to ask me about my experience hanging out with him just hmu. He’s a bit of a dork if I’m honest ahahaha xx

believe-that-you-can-my-friend  asked:

I'm here for the domestic!bughead prompts!! how about engaged Bughead looking through photos in order to use one for their wedding announcement on the paper but they stumble across their old childhood and adolescence ones and they end up laughing at how awful they are and zooming in on those that one of them is pulling a face or a photo that was captured at just the wrong moment and teasing each other and you know ALL THE FLUFFY FEELS! <3

Ahh, thank you for the cute prompt, m’love!
I blame @lusterrdust and her adorable fic ‘feels like home’ for all these damn domestic feels <3

Jughead didn’t bother looking up from where he was editing the newest chapter of his latest novel as he heard Betty entering their living room. At least, that was until she settled down besides him, unceremoniously plucking the device from his hands and resting it on her lap. He looked at her incredulously, a smile twitching at the corners of his slightly open mouth.

“What do you think you’re doing, Betts?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest and angling his body towards her. She didn’t notice his surprise, or if she did she chose not to indulge him, busying herself with plugging her hard drive into the laptop and finding what she wanted.

“Just borrowing this,” she chirped, scrolling through the endless files that popped up on the screen. He chuckled.

“So what, I put a ring on your finger and suddenly you think what’s mine is yours?” he quipped sarcastically, leaning in to try and catch her eyes, his own glinting with mischief. She cast a smirk at him,

“Conventionally, yes.” He settled back against the sofa with a laugh, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “We need to find a picture for our engagement announcement,” she told him. He groaned in response.

“Do we really have to do that?” he whined, biting his lip against more protestations when she turned to him with a stern look.

“Mom phoned, again. If we don’t give her one to print by the end of today god only knows what she’d choose. You don’t want to face the wrath of Alice Cooper, do you?” Jughead shivered in mock horror. Everyone had been surprised by how little resistance Alice had put up against Jughead dating her daughter, but still he knew all too well what her bad side looked like and it was not a place he wanted to be.

“Wait, what’s that one?” Jughead asked, pointing to a folder on the screen labelled ‘oldies’.

“Oh, I’d totally forgotten about that!” Betty shrieked, clicking on it immediately, an array of images lighting up before them. One trait that Betty had been happy to claim from her mother was her organisational skills. She’d been putting every photo she could find into categorised folders since she could remember. “Oh, my god!” She tapped on one, enlarging it on the screen.

It was their kindergarten class photo, twenty or so chubby little faces grinning back at them. Jughead spotted Betty quickly, like he always did, standing slightly off to the left, her smile a little more subdued than some of the toothless grins of her classmates, but her face just as bright. The rosiness of her plump cheeks matched the tiny pink roses on her yellow sundress.

“I hope our daughter looks like you,” Jughead whispered before he even realised he was speaking. His eyes went wide as her head whipped sharply to face him. His face was burning as he looked down, fiddling with the hem of her sweater in embarrassment.

“Our daughter?” Betty asked in adoration, her eyes shining. He chanced a look back up at her, tension in his chest easing at the hopeful look plastered across her face. He cleared his throat, smiling timidly.

“Well, yeah. If we have a daughter, I mean,” he stuttered out lamely. He felt Betty lean further into his side.

“I hope we do,” she mumbled, turning back to face the screen, a new warmth spreading throughout Jughead’s chest. “Oh, Juggie!” she squealed, pointing to the other end of the photo. Standing there, tiny denim jacket and all, was a little Jughead Jones, crown beanie slipping down over his eyes until all that was visible was a peek of dark hair and a toothy grin.

“My mom knitted it big, said I’d grow into it,” he chuckled, looking at his younger self. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“That you did,” Betty joked, chucking him under the chin. Jughead swatted her hand away playfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s move on, shall we?” He tapped the arrow, shifting along to the next picture. Betty gasped. It was her and Archie, a couple of years older than the last photo, sitting on the grass in the park they used to play in. Archie’s head was thrown back in laughter, his red hair glowing in the summer sunshine as Betty gazed adoringly on. But that wasn’t what stopped her breath. There, slightly out of shot was Jughead, fixing her with the same expression she knew she’d given the redhead countless times throughout her youth.

“I always saw you, Betty, even if you didn’t see me yet. I always knew,” Jughead leaned down to whisper against the shell of her ear. Betty turned her head once more, capturing his lips in a delicate, feather-light kiss. They pulled back, gazing into each other’s eyes as Betty felt the comforting new weight of the ring on her left hand. This was right, this had always been right.

She blinked back tears as they resumed their trip down memory lane, cute childhood memories slipping into the awkward phase of early adolescence. Betty threw her head back, laughing freely at a particularly bad shot of the both of them at someone’s birthday party. She zoomed in on Jughead’s face menacingly.

“Wow, I didn’t know you had so many chins, Juggie,” she teased, shrieking as his fingers danced against her side, relinquishing her control over the laptop. Jughead seized his opportunity, zooming in on her face instead, her expression blank but her eyelids half open and eyes rolled slightly back into her head.

“Yeah, well you never told me you were possessed in our youth, Regan,” he scoffed, holding his fiancee off as she attempted to snatch the device back.

“Wait, Juggie, stop! There’s one I want to see!” she struggled, sitting back with a huff before he finally relented, placing a sweet kiss on the side of her head. “Look, do you remember this being taken?” He turned to face the screen.

They were on the school field, high noon sun shining down on them as they lounged around in the summer heat. Betty was leaning back on her elbows, face turned up into the light slightly, rays catching the highlights in her golden hair causing her to emit a subtle glow. Jughead was lying next to her, propped up on his elbow, looking down at Betty with pure and open adoration in his blue eyes. The angle of the light was captured perfectly, shrouding them in a spotlight against the green of the grass. Jughead looked down, catching a glimpse of the way their hands, barely noticeable behind Betty’s hip, were locked with one another by their pinkies only.

“This one,” she said, her voice getting stuck in her throat slightly. Jughead nodded, tightening his grip on her.


Return To Me.

Can be found on AO3 and, also this chapter under the cut….

Summary: What would you do if you woke up tomorrow with the last 5 years of your memories gone? After an unfortunate accident, Oliver Queen must figure out his place in a life he has no memory of whilst his wife, Felicity, does everything she can to support him. With emotions, secrets and relationships pushed to the limits; will love and friendship be enough to turn back the hands of time?

Authors Note: As always thank you all so much for all the support, it means more than I can ever say so I shall post this chapter early for you guys. This is a beast of a chapter at over 7,000 words! But hopefully it has some of the answers you’re all looking for. As always this story is painful but I hope you do enjoy…

Chapter 10: The Past Truth.

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Cordially Invited

Originally posted by chloethegamer

Request:  “You are cordially invited to go fuck yourself.” Prompt with either Bellamy or Murphy (A/N: With Bellamy) 

Word Count: 1,336

There was something about that boy, something about the way he walked and acted that made you want to scream. He was so confident and thought so highly of himself. He was so…so…smug. Usually, you could ignore it and move about your everyday business without too much annoyance, but today…today was different. You had gone to bed in a bad mood, woken up in an even worse one, and now here you were- doing a job you didn’t really care for with people you didn’t really care for.

That was the thing though. You really did care about all these people, but just felt so out of place. The minute you all got to earth was the minute you tried to do everything you could to get away from the 100 and explore. You joined the hunting group, which was a fun job until you almost died from a poisoned arrow. After the accident, Bellamy wouldn’t let you go hunt anymore, so you did what you could around the perimeter of the fence. Bellamy had always tried to make you feel like you belonged, and you did when it was just you, him, and Octavia in a tiny bedroom built for two. The earth changed all of it for you and that wasn’t such a big deal, it was just what it was.

Today it wasn’t just “what it was”. It was your birthday- a day you never really cared for but Bellamy loved to celebrate for some weird reason. He always threw you birthday parties and snuck you presents he had stolen. One time on the Ark when rations were dangerously low, Bellamy had stolen enough ingredients from the kitchen to make a single cupcake and a makeshift candle. You had never felt so much love radiate off a person and have never felt that much love for someone else.

It has been weeks since you have had a decent conversation with Bellamy. You were sure he had forgotten your birthday. He barely glanced in your direction at breakfast and didn’t bother walking with you to your posts outside the gates, which was something he used to do. That was a trait you missed very much. God, that boy- with his perfect hair and perfect smile and freckles and perfect everything.

While Bellamy didn’t seem to want anything to do with you today, your best friends John and Clarke were throwing you a party. It was going to be a small gathering with some decent food, some music, and some of Monty’s famous moonshine. It was supposed to be a surprise but you found John and Monty whispering about details, and being the noisy person you are, you wouldn’t stop asking until they answered you.

Two hours had passed and you were getting more excited as the party neared. Nothing exciting was going on outside the gates today, so you were leaning against the fence playing tic-tac-toe in the dirt with Harper. You threw your stick down as you won for the third time in a row when Bellamy walked up to you and Harper.

“Harper, you can go on break if you want.” He said in his deep, raspy voice. She nodded and walked back into the camp, probably to get some food. He placed himself in Harper’s spot against the fence.

“What are you doing here? You don’t usually give breaks.” You asked, hoping it didn’t come out as pissed as you felt.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He replied as he stared at the side eye you were giving him. You gestured vaguely in the air as to say ‘and?’

“Today’s your birthday,” he paused, “So happy birthday.”

“Wow so you do remember. I thought you either forgot that was today or just forgot me in general.” You sarcastically snapped.

“Y/n, that’s not fair. You know how busy I’ve been-”

You interrupted, “That didn’t stop you on the Ark, Bellamy. You had a lot of responsibilities up there too.”

He continued, “You didn’t even invite me to your party tonight.”

You were crouched on the ground, digging your stick into the ground where you and Harper had been playing. However, now you were standing, facing your beautiful best friend (ex-best friend?).

You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or yell at him. You went with the latter. “Oh that’s because you’ve been cordially invited to go fuck yourself.”

You stomped away, leaving your post. He was so irritating and selfish to think you would ask him to join you on the only day you ever felt special. He’s done nothing but make you feel like shit the whole time you’ve been on Earth, and here he was making today about him. You headed to the engineering tent to hang out with Raven, and didn’t leave until it was time to get ready for your party.

The party consisted of Clarke, Monty, Jasper, Raven, Harper, Miller, Octavia, Murphy, and you. Kane and Abby joined for the dinner portion and then left so the partying could begin. You were on your third cup of moonshine and fruit juice mix when he showed up. You were facing the fire, laughing with Murphy about some sarcastic comment he made. You were dangerously close to kissing him too, as Monty’s moonshine brought out the side of you that made you want to make out with everyone.

Bellamy tapped your arm and you turned to face him. “I’m not leaving here Bellamy Blake. I am having fun and you are not going to take that away from me.” You grabbed Murphy’s arm and draped it over your shoulder for dramatic effect.

He laughed, “I’m not here to take away your fun. I just wanna talk.”

You took a swig of your drink and sighed, “Ugh, fine. Help me up.”

Bellamy took your hand and pulled you to a standing position. He put his arm around your waist and lead you to a bench just far enough that the others couldn’t hear your conversation. You downed your drink and turned to him.

“Wh-what do you want Bellamy?” You asked as you tilted your head back to lean against the tree behind you. You had definitely drunk more than you should have, but damn did you feel like you deserved it.

“I’m sorry about earlier. You’re right, I’ve been neglecting you. You’re my best friend and I failed you.” He said with such sincerity that you wished you hadn’t had all those drinks so you could have an actual conversation with him.

But drunk Y/n came out instead, struggling to speak coherently. “You are very right my friend but you know what, it’s okay because you’re cute. I’m mad at you because you’re cute and my friend and I love you. I wish we were back on the Ark sometimes. I mean, despite a sister that you couldn’t tell anyone about, life was so much easier up there.”

“I agree.” He said with a smile.

“I know things have been hard on you but you know what? You handle all of this…shit better than anyone else, so I forgive you for forgetting me for that reason alone.”

He laughed happily. “I just hope Sober Y/n feels the same way. How about we get you to bed?”

“Your bed?”

“If you want.”

“As long as you’re the big spoon I don’t care where we go.”

He wrapped his arm around your waist again and coaxed you to his tent. He handed you one of his clean shirts to put on instead of your alcohol stained one. You took the shirt off without care or warning, put the clean one on, kicked off your shoes, and climbed into Bellamy’s ultra soft and comfy bed. He climbed in next to you and placed a kiss on your cheek. He curled his arm around your stomach and cuddled up next to you as you instantly fell asleep in his arms, knowing you were going to regret all of this tomorrow morning.

(A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this one! I hope you enjoy!)

I Will Forget About You

It’s been one month and I told myself I will forget about you.

Sometimes he still says things and expects a response, but he doesn’t get one. He looks at his shadow only to remember she’s gone and he’ll never see her again. She’ll never give him a sarcastic comment, or yell at him, or laugh at his dumb jokes ever again, and he tells himself to forget about her. It’s for the best.

It’s been six months and I told myself I will forget about you.

He simply can’t stay in Ordon anymore. The village is too small, there’s not enough to do, and no one understands him there. He rides his beloved horse through the woods as his childhood friend watches him, hoping he will return someday. He probably would’ve married her if the village hadn’t been attacked, but he met someone else and fell in love with her. He knows he can never love anyone as much as he loves her, but he tells himself to forget. He has to eventually.

It’s been a year and I told myself I will forget about you.

He’s friends with the princess now, and she’s actually really nice. After leaving Ordon, he decided to work for the princess. In the time they spend together, they talk about her. It’s hard because he needs to forget about her, but he wants to remember. She sees the pain in his eyes as he talks about her, and she wants to help him, but she doesn’t know how. All the princess can do is talk to him and hope that someday he’ll forget the pain.

It’s been five years and I miss you…

He sits and watches as the sun sets every night. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it used to, but he still remembers everything. He remembers how she touched his cheek in the desert, how he held her after she broke down the barrier, and the way she looked at him as she disappeared from Hyrule.

Queen Zelda is married, and Ilia is even engaged. Everyone has moved on around him, but he just can’t seem to let go. For the second time ever, he allows the sadness to overtake him because he misses her so much.

It’s been seven years and I finally found you again.

anonymous asked:

My first reaction to Cait's Q&A was to wonder if it was Flopz mandated due to the continuing negative fan response (and the closing of many wallets) to all the fuckery and the attention hungry Sam adjacents. A 'spontaneous' Q&A us not going to heal the damage caused by 12 months of fuckery. Having SC speak out against Shatner's abuse of OL fans (no, Sam, the IW was not being bullied, he's the bully!) would be a good place to start. Other S 'adjacents' also need to stop exploiting the fandom.

Don’t nobody who is anybody give any damns, shits, or fucks about the 

continuing negative fan response (and the closing of many wallets) to all the fuckery and the attention hungry Sam adjacents.”

Don’t nobody who is any anybody give any damn, shits, or fucks about 

Healing “the damage caused by 12 months of” largely self induced “fuckery” in this fandom

The fandom is an entity unto itself and all fuckery spawned by, in relation to its existence, and involving illegal and immoral behaviors of its self appointed members is the sole problem of said fandom. 

I’m a nobody and even I don’t give any damns, shits, or fucks about that nonsense. 

I do agree it was done at the urging of management and likely not out of any genuine craving for fan interaction on her part. It was a response to those who cry foul at the lack of promotion thus far as evidenced by:

A) Cait’s sarcastic response to being asked sarcastically if she was excited for S3.

B) In the Q&A she mentioned she’d better get time off before S4 filming as she’s heard some people expect her to do promo of S3. 

but it’s better if you do

Summary: When Louise invites Dan and Phil to a Halloween masquerade ball, Phil suggests they go alone. Dan doesn’t expect much to happen, until Phil kisses him. Now, Phil’s on a hunt to find the boy he kissed. The twist? He doesn’t know it was Dan.
Word Count: 2,345
Warnings: Recreational drinking, anxiety attack
EXCERPT:  “Well,” Dan panicked. “There are a lot of guys on this list. How are you gonna narrow it down?”

Phil sipped at his coffee before taking the list back. “I have my criteria.” At Dan’s raised eyebrow, Phil elaborated. “He was a guy. There’s half the guest list right there. And he was tall, so that gets rid of Tyler. And then, since there’s only a few people left.” Phil giggled maniacally. If someone didn’t believe it was possible to laugh maniacally, Dan was redirecting them to Phil. “I’ll figure it out.” 

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1.Eric - A first glance

Originally posted by onlyblood


dreaded year of initiation.

 Straightening out the stiff collar of his uniform, Eric made sure the tattoos on his neck were on full display. He wanted the rest of the world to see, how hard he had worked to be, where he was today.

In his head, he cursed Max for assigning him to oversee training again, even though he knew full well, what a disaster last year had been.

First the whole drama with the candor bitch and then the loud mouthed stiff. He would have never guessed that Four would´ve tapped that, but as the two stiffs engaged in a make out session in the middle of the mess hall, shouts of graft rose up from everywhere, leaving him, of course, to handle the mess.

It got so bad at one point, Eric punched Peter K.O., just to shut him up.

And all of this drama because of two damn stiffs. Eric was sure, that they only managed to lower his opinion about the whole lot of those grey idiots.

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I asked myself what style we women could have adopted that would have been unmarked, like the men’s. The answer was none. There is no unmarked woman.

There is no woman’s hair style that can be called standard, that says nothing about her. The range of women’s hair styles is staggering, but a woman whose hair has no particular style is perceived as not caring about how she looks, which can disqualify her for many positions, and will subtly diminish her as a person in the eyes of some.

Women must choose between attractive shoes and comfortable shoes. When our group made an unexpected trek, the woman who wore flat, laced shoes arrived first. Last to arrive was the woman in spike heels, shoes in hand and a handful of men around her.

If a woman’s clothing is tight or revealing (in other words, sexy), it sends a message – an intended one of wanting to be attractive, but also a possibly unintended one of availability. If her clothes are not sexy, that too sends a message, lent meaning by the knowledge that they could have been. There are thousands of cosmetic products from which women can choose and myriad ways of applying them. Yet no makeup at all is anything but unmarked. Some men see it as a hostile refusal to please them.

Women can’t even fill out a form without telling stories about themselves. Most forms give four titles to choose from. “Mr.” carries no meaning other than that the respondent is male. But a woman who checks “Mrs.” or “Miss” communicates not only whether she has been married but also whether she has conservative tastes in forms of address – and probably other conservative values as well. Checking “Ms.” declines to let on about marriage (checking “Mr.” declines nothing since nothing was asked), but it also marks her as either liberated or rebellious, depending on the observer’s attitudes and assumptions.

I sometimes try to duck these variously marked choices by giving my title as “Dr.” – and in so doing risk marking myself as either uppity (hence sarcastic responses like “Excuse me!”) or an overachiever (hence reactions of congratulatory surprise like “Good for you!”).

All married women’s surnames are marked. If a woman takes her husband’s name, she announces to the world that she is married and has traditional values. To some it will indicate that she is less herself, more identified by her husband’s identity. If she does not take her husband’s name, this too is marked, seen as worthy of comment: she has done something; she has “kept her own name.” A man is never said to have “kept his own name” because it never occurs to anyone that he might have given it up. For him using his own name is unmarked.

A married woman who wants to have her cake and eat it too may use her surname plus his, with or without a hyphen. But this too announces her marital status and often results in a tongue-tying string. In a list (Harvey O'Donovan, Jonathan Feldman, Stephanie Woodbury McGillicutty), the woman’s multiple name stands out. It is marked.

“You know, I remember that being easier last time,” said Percy as he leaned against Nico. He was coming down quickly from the rush of the fight, and his injuries were making themselves more known with each passing moment.

“Last time you were invulnerable, remember?” said Nico.

“Still though.” Percy looked around. “Wow, we sure did a number on this place.”

Nico let out a little breath of amusement. “Who is this ‘we’ you speak of? I don’t remember blowing up any fountains, or knocking over any walls, or exploding all those toilets…”

“Oh yeah, you’re totally innocent,” said Percy sarcastically. “Shaking the ground, pulling skeletons up like reverse-Whack-A-Mole through the concrete…”

“All cosmetic damage, I assure you,” said Nico, practically dripping with mock-dignity. “I am the heart and soul of proportional response. You, on the other hand, basically turned the park into a crater.”

“Okay, okay, I give,” said Percy with a little laugh. He leaned in more against Nico, knowing Nico could take the weight. His ankle was really starting to throb. “Sheesh, what’s a guy gotta do for you to cut him some slack?”

“Maybe take me someplace nice for once,” said Nico, his tone tart, but his eyes dancing cheerfully.

“You wanted to learn to skate!” protested Percy, tightening his arm around Nico’s shoulders. “I didn’t know this was supposed to be date, or I would have stepped my game up.”

“Step your game up, huh?” Nico was grinning. “I’d like to see that.”

“All right, all right, lemme just,” Percy straightened up, cleared his throat, and pulled Nico a little closer. “So… you come here often?”

commissioned from @nickroblesart by moi

BLACKHILL MEME: [2/5] Tropes → Truth Serum

Tony gathered them in a room and sat Natasha down on a chair while they stood in front of the two of them, waiting for him to explain himself.

“So, I’ve made an astounding discovery. Pepper, you’re here because you’re the CEO, Maria is here as head of security and Clint” he paused and frowned. “Natasha brought him, I don’t know why he’s here. It is of vital importance to this experiment that neither one of you steps in and interrupts us, no matter what might happen.” They all nodded, he already remarked that five times.

“And why am I here, again?” Natasha sighed.

“I needed a subject and you’re pretty much immortal, so” he raised a siring with a green-ish limpid substance inside. “Raise your sleeve, please.”

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Glamour and Danger: 02

Here is chapter or part 2 of my Glamour and Danger Mafia Au Jin series. I hope you guys like it. (Gif is not mine)

Originally posted by jinesthetic

“Officer Jeon,” Jin greeted as he stepped inside the windowless room. He glanced around the interrogation room before taking a seat at the table in the middle of the room. His lawyer sits besides him.

Opposite was a young man who looked fresh out the academy. “It’s actually detective, Mr. Kim,” he corrected as he cleared his throat.

“My apologies, Detective Jeon,” Jin bowed slightly. A confident smirk was plastered on his face. “I’m assume you have some questions for me?”

The detective sighs as he pulled a document out of the folder in his hands. He laid them out in front of Jin, “Do you care to explain this?”

Jin picked up the document and glanced it over before handing it over to his lawyer. “Yes, it is an email I sent to one of my employees,” Jin answered. “It’s about the recent deal I made. I told my employee that I wanted it to happen at any costs.”

The detective nods his head. “I was told that the other party refused to give in. How did you ever get them to agree, definitely on a deal that mostly benefits you?” He leaned back in his seat as he eyed Jin suspiciously.

“I am a businessman. It’s what I do. My job requires that I be persuasive,” Jin answered. His hands are folded together in front of him on the desk.

“I have a witness.”

Jin’s eyebrows raised high at the news. “A witness?”

“Yes, he says that he was delivering a package to you office when he overheard a phone call. You were arguing with the other party and threatened to ruin their life if they didn’t agree.” The detective leaned forward as he tells the story.

“I’m sure you know how heated an argument can get. Just because I say something, doesn’t mean that I am going to act on it.” Jin’s answer sounded well rehearsed as he defended himself. “Many people say things that they don’t mean in the heat of an argument.”

“Did you know that one of the board member’s son was involved in car accident shortly after that phone call?”

“No, I didn’t know.” The smirk on his face said otherwise. “I hope he is alright.”

“Doctors say he will recover. Did you know that another board member’s vacation home was burned down. Thankfully his daughter had left her vacation early, otherwise she might have been…well you get the picture.”

“That’s terrible.” He face was poised, he’s voice was carefully laced with false concern.

“Shortly after their little spree of bad luck, they finally decide to take your deal. And then there bad luck just disappears?” Detective Jeon’s voice was filled with accusation as he glared at Jin, waiting for his resolve to break.

“Detective,” the lawyer finally spoke up. “Will all due respect, those are merely coincidences. There is nothing here that can hold my client guilty.” The smirk on Jin’s face grew as he watched Jeon shrink back into his seat with a huff. “If this is all you have to talk about, I ask that you let us leave. My client is a busy man and I’m sure you can find something better to do with taxpayer dollars.”

You let out a sigh of relief once you entered the office. Your tense body immediately relaxed as you moved behind your desk. You typical morning walk had seemed off and it felt as if someone was following you. But every time you glanced behind you, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary.


You jumped at the sound of your name. You hand clutched at your chest as you calm your breathing. “Oh my gosh, Namjoon, you scared me.” You looked at to see him giving you a sheepish smile.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I just wanted to ask if you were okay, you seemed out of it,” he explained. He leaned against your desk.

“Oh,” you responded. “Yeah, I’m fine. How are you though? What happened back there at the club?” you asked.

Namjoon grimaced at your question. “Ah, it was nothing Y/N.” He waved off your worry. “Just forget it ever happened.”

You pout at him. “But-”

“Really, it’s probably best that you forget about it all.” He interrupted, his eyes were hard as the stared at you. His jaw clenched and he looked kind of scary.

You gulped as you nodded your head. “Okay, but answer just one question,” you agreed. He sighed before agreeing along with you. “Who is Jin exactly?”

“Y/N,” he sighed again.

“It’s just that he gave off weird vibes at the club and then I saw him on the news this morning. I mean, you can’t blame me for being curious,” you explained in a rush voice, worried that he might cut you off again. “Please?”

He sighed once again. “Jin is a businessman, an entrepreneur type.” Namjoon shrugged. “There really isn’t a lot for me to say, I don’t know that much about him.” He glanced down at his watch. “Are you going to the meeting today?”

“I’m a secretary,” you answered.


“Did you bump your head or something,” you chuckled. “Secretaries don’t go to the meetings with the big guys.” You shook your head. “I just sit here and answer phones and file paperwork.”

“Didn’t you hear?” Namjoon asked.

“What?” You head tilted slightly to the side.

“There’s a new boss.” Namjoon answered. “And he wants everybody at this meeting.”

“What? So the company did get sold?” You questioned as your eyes widened. “Who’s our boss?”

“Me!” he proclaimed confidently.

You laughed. “No. Really? Who is it?” You questioned again.

He whined. “It really is me. The buyer apparently isn’t very hands on when running the company so he appointed me to do it for him,” he explained.


“Yes, really. Now let’s get to the meeting before we are late,” he grabbed onto your arm and begins to walk into the big conference room. “I think you might need a promotion,” he joked.

You had just finished making copies at the machine behind your desk. When you turned back around to place the copies on your desk so that your coworker can come by to pick up the stack later, you weren’t expecting to see the bouncer, V, from the club standing on the other side of your desk. Your eyes widen as you hesitantly took a step back only to bump into the copy machine.

“Kitten!” he greeted you with a playful smile on his face. “How’s your work going?” he asked as he places a vase of flowers on your desk.

“It’s going fine,” you stuttered out.

“Boss said that I should apologize for being rude to you last night,” he answered your unasked question. “That fucker even made me buy flowers. I swear this be a gentleman thing gets on my nerves sometime,” he continued on. “So yeah, say you’ll forgive me so he’ll get off my back?”

“Okay,” you answered.

“Thanks kitten! You’re great.” The smile on his face double in size. “Kitten can you do me a favor and point me towards Namjoon’s office? I have to talk to him.”

“Uh yeah,” You point over towards the elevator, “top floor, end of the hall.” You explained.

“Ooh candy,” he looked down at the bowl of lollipops that you have set on your desk for guests. “Kitten, can I have some?” He doesn’t even wait for an answer this time as he grabs a handful and shoves it into the pocket of his jacket. “Thanks again, Kitten!” He smiled at you one more time before heading towards the elevator.

You stretched your arms out as you stood from your desk. It was time to finally clock out. You gathered your things and shut off your computer. As you exited out the building, you were surprised to see Jin.

He stood against a sleek black car. His arms were crossed and he had sunglasses on, even though the sun was setting. When he noticed you coming out of the building, he immediately stood straight and walked towards you.

“Hello Y/N, how was your day?” he asked as he comes to a halt in front of you.

“It was okay, Jin.” You were looking down at his shoes, avoiding his gaze. “I have to head home now.” You stepped to the side of him, only to have him follow and block your path.

“Have you had dinner yet?” he asked.

“Jin, you literally just saw me walk out of work. Do you think I’ve had dinner?” you questioned back sarcastically. You finally looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

He chuckled at your response. “Have dinner with me?”

“No, thank you.” You stepped around him but he grabbed your hand to stop you.

“Please. Just one dinner.”

You rolled your eyes. “I have to head home.”

“Then let me give you a ride so you don’t have to walk,” he escorted you towards his car. He opened the door and looked at your expectantly.

You sighed before entering the car. What harm could one ride do?

He smiled triumphantly as he closed the door and hurried over to the driver side. “Did V visit you today?” He asked as he pulled away from the car.


“Did he apologize?”


“With flowers?”

“Yes.” You huffed in annoyance.


“We have a snitch,” Jin announced as he slammed his fists onto the desk in front of him. Everyone else in the room flinched at the loud sound it made. “Someone went to the police. Yes V?”

V immediately dropped the hand he had raised to get his attention. “Do we know who it is?” He asked, the stick of a lollipop hanging out of his mouth.

“If I knew who it was, they would be have already been dealt with,” Jin responded.

“Did you ask the kid?” Jin looked over to see the owner of the question slouched in his seat. Jin eyes narrowed at him and he quickly fixed his posture.

“Of course I asked, Suga. And no, the kid doesn’t know who tipped them off,” Jin answered.

Suga scoffed, “typical.”

“I have gathered you guys for this meeting, because at the moment you are the only ones who I trust.” Jin paced back and forth behind his desk. “Find out who the snitch is and handle it,” he commanded. He is answered by a chorus of agreement as the group began to leave the meeting. “J Hope, wait a second.”

The male stopped and looked over at Jin. “Yes, boss?” he asked.

“You didn’t have any trouble with your assignment this morning, did you?” Jin asked.

J Hope chuckled, “She’s an interesting one. I almost thought she caught me for a moment. But it went by smoothly. Do you want me tag her tomorrow as well?”

“Yes. Do so.” Jin dismissed him with a wave of a hand. He sighed heavily as he took a seat behind his desk. He pulls out a flask from the drawer of the desk and takes a swig.

“Thanks for coming over, Jimin,” You greeted as you invited him inside of your apartment.

“It’s no problem, Y/N,” he answered as he stepped inside. He hung his coat on a hook by your door and took his shoes off. “Am I to assume that this isn’t work related?”

Jimin worked as a journalist. He’s who you usually contacted when working on a press release or setting up an interview for the company. “No, actually I was wondering if you could give me information on someone.”

Jimin took a seat on your couch and you followed after. “Sure Y/N. I know everything about everyone. Who are you interested in?” He asked. He helps himself to the wine you had set on the coffee table.

“Kim Seokjin.”

He choked on his drink. He placed his drink back down on the table. “Why are you looking into him?” Jimin asked, his voice slightly raised higher in pitch.

“I just am. What can you tell me about him?”

He nervously bit down on his bottom lip. “Mr. Kim Seokjin is a self made millionaire. He’s a businessman. He likes investing into things-”

“Yeah, I know that. But who is he really. Come on, you must know something.” You pleaded with him. “I just want to know - look, can you tell me anything or not?”

“What exactly are you looking for?”

“It’s just - he seems - on the news this morning it said that he is a part of BTS mafia,” Your words stumbled out of your mouth clumsily. “Is it true? Who are they?”

Jimin’s eyebrows raised up towards the ceiling. He was hesitant to answer and when he does, his words came out as a stutter. “I can’t really answer that.” He glanced down at his watch and stood up. “I should head out. Sorry I couldn’t be much help,” he apologized as he raced towards the door. He ignored your protests and the door slammed behind him.

You heaved a heavy sigh as you leaned back on your couch. “Well that plan was a bust.”

Sister!Winchester - Don’t Piss Off a Winchester

Originally posted by dxrkncss

Here’s the first prompt fic requested by @adorable-assbutt. Thank you for being the first person to request, and I hope you like it!
Request: Hey babe! Could you possibly write a Henry x Reader piece with #25? Or if you’re not comfortable with writing Henry, could you write Sam x Sister!Reader with #29? It’s up to you, babe! 💙💙

A/N: I hope it’s alright that I went with a Sister!Reader, aha, I just think that the fic will be better with a character I know more about x I hope you like it:)

The prompt is “He’s a Winchester, you ass. He’ll be here befor- did you hear that? Sounds like someone’s pissed,”

Word Count: 606
Warnings: none.

You throw your shotgun into the trunk of the Impala, sighing with relief, knowing that the hunt is finally over. 

Keep reading

One of My Favorite Banters with Solas

Solas: Have you ever had any interest in learning magic, Sera?
Sera: Get off.
Solas: While it has not manifested naturally, there are ways to determine whether arcane gifts lie dormant within you.
Sera: What?? Don’t make me think about that. I have to sleep at night!
Solas: Sleeping would give you the chance to explore the Fade. I could introduce you to spirits!
Sera: Right, you’re messing with me on purpose!
Solas: {innocently} Why would I do that? It is not as though I know WHO filled my bedroll with lizards…
Sera: {laughing} Fair point. That was pretty good.

I love this banter between Solas and Sera for quite a few reasons, a couple of which I’ll mention here. One, Sera finally gets a prank pulled on her and has the good nature to say it was a “pretty good” prank. Two, the prank was pulled by Solas and it is BEAUTIFUL.

It cracks me up that some people paint Solas as this completely serious and/or constantly depressed stick in the mud. I feel like asking “You’ve…actually traveled with him, right?” Pair him with Sera or Vivienne and the sass levels will fly off of the charts (not to mention some of his interactions with Dorian. His “PLEASE SPEAK UP. I CANNOT HEAR YOU OVER YOUR OUTFIT” remark was PRICELESS).

I mean, yes, he does carry himself differently than some of the other sarcastic types within the Inquisition - The Iron Bull and Varric, for instance. Solas’ demeanor is usually (but not consistently) more pensive. However, that doesn’t mean he’s any less humorous - it just means his delivery is not as traditional. In fact, I will wager from certain dialogues we hear that Solas’ sarcasm is not only more subtle but also much sharper than that of his Inquisition counterparts. Take for instance this conversation with Vivienne.

Vivienne: So…an apostate. 
Solas: That is correct, Enchanter. I did not train in your circle. 
Vivienne: Well, dear, I hope you can take care of yourself should we encounter anything outside of your experience. 
Solas: I will try, in my own fumbling way, to learn from how you helped seal the rifts at Haven. Ah, wait! My memory misleads me. You were not there. 

Solas’ remark starts out subtle, almost sounding like a compliment initially. However, the end result is a stab of sarcasm as piercing as a double-edged blade.
Also, the fact that you gain approval with certain sarcastic responses when speaking with him would (in my opinion) generally indicate his appreciation for the fine art of wit and sarcasm. I mean, one of his nicknames is quite literally “The Trickster.” You don’t get a nickname like that by being completely serious all the time (at least not in my experience… ;b ).

And before anyone mentions this - yes, I do realize “Trickster” has other implications (namely what Fen'Harel may or may have not have done in the very distant past), but work with me here. They didn’t give The Joker his name just because that’s the one card out of the deck that he favors (literally or figuratively).

All of that to say I really believe Solas is much more multifaceted than people generally give him credit for - even beyond his sarcasm which I just happened to highlight here. Appreciate his wisdom and pensive nature but don’t forget to look for the gems of his humor as well. Trust me, they’re quite amazing. :D

Surprise, Surprise (Sam Drake X Reader)

This is my first proper story! So yea I hope you all enjoy :D

Title: Surprise, surprise

Pairing: Sam Drake/Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 1900

You wake up to the sound of waves and seagulls, for a moment you forget where you are ‘uh, this isn’t my room’ you think to yourself, until you hear a familiar voice.

“Elena! have you seen my-oh wait, nevermind!” Ah Nate, his usual panicky voice when he can’t find something.

You give a small sigh of relief when you remember your visiting family with Sam. You stretch and turn expecting to see Sam still sleeping, but to your surprise, he’s not there. You sit up quickly.

“Sam?…” You call out in confusion as you look at each side of the bed, Sam has a tendency to hide either side of the bed to give you a small fright in the morning. You hear faint laughter outside, making you curious as you look out the window, there you see Sam and Cassie running around on the beach. His young niece on his shoulders, giggling and having the time of her life.

Seeing Sam this happy, even after the events that has passed, being 2 years ago, relaxes you, puts you at ease, this is what you need for what you have to bring up to Sam, when you build up enough courage that is. You glance down a little and rub your belly, humming to yourself.

You leave the guest room, to be faced with Elena and Nate.

“Oh, look who decided to appear” Elena says, jokingly

“Haha, yea sorry, felt a little sick this morning, so I just wanted to sleep in a bit.” You say rubbing the back of your neck, shrugging your shoulders.

“Are you ok? You wanting a glass of water?” Nate asked with a concerning tone.

“No, no, thanks, but I’m fine, honestly, been feeling like this the past few weeks.” waving your hands by your head “So whats going on here?” You say walking towards a basket placed on the coffee table, sneaking a quick peak.

“Oh well, since you and Sam are here, we decided to pack a picnic and take a ride in the boat” Nate says as he carries the basket towards the front door.  

A wave of nerves passes through you, with you feeling like this, sailing won’t help put the sickness to ease.

“Oh…that sounds…great” following Nate, putting a small, fake smile on your face.

“Yea! I’m looking forward to it!” Nate says walking down the stairs of the porch.

You stop just at the top of the stairs on their porch, your hands holding your stomach again, looking over at Sam and Cassie now building sand castles and laughing. Sam looks up, even though he is quite far out on the beach, you can feel his soft smile directly on you. You smile back, knowing he can feel it to.

“How far along are you?”

You jump in surprise “Wha!…Huh?” quickly turning round to see Elena in the doorway of the house.

“How far along are you?” She repeated.

“Uh…I don’t know what you mean” You say turning you head slowly, keeping Elena in the corner of your eye.

She walks over tapping your shoulder and sitting on one of the sun loungers, you follow her as she taps the other lounger “Sit…talk to me.”

“Theres nothing to talk about” you say slowly with a slight hint of worry in your voice. Why are you afraid in telling her? It’s Sam your terrified of telling. Elena has been here. Out of everyone on this beach, Elena is the one you should be asking to give you pointers, tips, any info of what to expect. But you were just so scared, probably because you want this to be a conversation between you and Sam alone.

Elena looks at you softly tilting her head and gently grabs your hand. “Y/N, trust me, you can talk to me about anything” a small smile appears on her face.

You lay back on the lounger looking over at Sam, with the smallest smile, slowly closing your eyes and turning back to Elena “….I’m 4 weeks” you sigh

Shock, surprise and excitement instantly take over Elena and she jumps up clapping her hands and yelling happily. You see Sam looking over in confusion, but not thinking too much of it. Just casual girl talk and laughter to him. You quickly shoot up from the chair waving you hands to Elena, “Would you shush! Elena!”

“AHAH! Sorry I’m just so happy!” She says still doing small hops in front of you. “I’m going to be an auntie!” she instantly stops hopping “Oh my god…I’m going to be an auntie”

You shake your head laughing and flop back onto the lounger, glancing up at Elena.

Elena proceeds to take some breaths before sitting back down “So…when you going to tell Sam?”

Your laughter quickly fades and your smile turns to shock and realisation “Oh shit, I have to tell Sam”

“Language” Elena says quietly with a small giggle.

Panic starts to take over, Elena clearly picking it up in your voice “H-How am I going to tell him? How is he going to…r-react to this? Are we ready to do THIS?!” Your 100 questions just keep coming, making Elena shake her head and gently grab the top of your arm.

“Y/N, hey. Hey!” you quickly turn to her “First off, panicking like this will not be good for the baby, second, theres no reason for you to be panicking…” a small smile appears on her face “Yes having a baby is a scary thing, I mean when I told Nate about Cassie, I was terrified…”

“ha, you? Terrified?” you chuckled”

“…yees, but not because of the pregnancy, just the reaction of Nate. But surprisingly he took it very well, shocked at first and a bit speechless, but after an hour or 2 he came to grips with it and he said to me 'lets do this, we’re ready for this'” mocking Nate’s voice, making you laugh a little. You look down at your hands, your fingers intertwining with each other.

“…With everything Sam went through, 15 years in prison, having to lie to protect his family, which probably would’ve been killing him, nearly dying to find that treasure, if Sam is anything like Nate, hearing that he is going to become a dad, I think that…that’ll just be the best news he will ever hear!”

A small sigh escapes your mouth. “I guess you’re right…”

“Of course I am”

You chuckle “Yeah, it’ll be fine!…could you do it for me?”

Elena giggles a bit and stands up “Now thats something that has to be done by you, sorry” she says as she’s walks past you.

You groan and place you head in your hands “…I don’t think I can, I’m to scared to” your muffled voice complains again.

“Scared of what?” a voice that is clearly not Elena’s. You quickly shoot you head up from your hands and to see Sam slightly confused as he walks towards you “Are you ok?”

Standing up to stutter your answer “U-uhm” glancing at Elena walking away, hope she’ll turn round and swoop into help.

'She’s right, he deserves to know’ you think to yourself.

“Y/N?” He tilts his head to you.

You look back up at him, a smile appears across your face and you see the concern fade from his eyes. “I’m fine Sam, just I-we need to have a talk.” Sitting back on the lounger and tapping it.

“Oh dear, what have I done now?” He says jokingly as he sits beside you.

You giggle a bit and grab his hand, pulling yourself closer to him. “I’m just going to get to the point…kindof” you take a deep breath and tighten your grip on Sams hand. You notice him looking at you, the concern is back in his eyes, but before you 'get to the point’

“Look, hun, if its something thats happened and you’re needing time, please tell me. You know I love you and I will give you all the spa-”

“I’m late” you interrupt

Saying that to Elena, she instantly know what you mean.  But Sam, being a guy, it takes a little longer to click. You sit waiting for a response, thinking he’s just in shock, until you see the confusion on his face.

“Late? Uh, hun, we’re on holiday? You do realise you don’t go to work? What are you late for?” he says in a sarcastic, cocky tone

You burst into a small laugh, which makes his confusion elevate, “No, babe…I’m laaaaaate” you emphasis on 'the late’ part, raising your eyebrows hoping the pin will finally drop. Sam copies your facial expression, expecting more to be said and notices you holding your belly.

“Late? Your…I don’t…” Darting his eyes to your face and belly, trying to make the connection, until the pin finally drops “Oh! Late, wait…you mean? You’re not?!” His voice gets more and more hi-pitched until you nod, causing him to instantly shoot up laughing and cheering.

“You’re pregnant?!” grabbing your hands and lifting you to your feet.

Tears start to stream down your cheeks “Y-yes!” you laugh. Sam can’t contain himself, excitement, happiness and adrenaline starts to talk over his body, causing him to yell and laugh.

Elena looks on from the distance, arms folded and smiling.

“What the heck is going on over there” Nate asks walking up beside Elena.

“Well, looks like you’re going to be an uncle” she says turning back towards the boat.

“Huh…wait, what?! Are you serious” Nate runs after Elena, jumping and fist bumping the air.

“I’m going to be a dad! A dad! Me?! Haha” He turns to back to you, noticing you fidgeting with your nails in worry, his smile is quickly turned to concern again “Hey, you ok?”

“I-I’m scared, Sam” you say walking up to him, resting your arms onto Sams belly, he wraps his arms around you, placing his chin on your head.

“We-YOU will be fine, you’ll have me, Nate, Sully and Elena! To be honest Elena will be the best throughout this” cupping your head in his hands and places his forehead onto yours. You wrap your arms around Sams waist tightly “We’ll be in full support for you, just like we were for Elena, you know that? I will be by your side every step of the way.” he continues. Your grip tightens around Sam, going on your tip toes you give Sam and long passionate kiss, you could feel the smile on Sams lips.

“Thank you, Sam” slowly pulling away and looking deep into his eyes, know he meant ever word. “Anything for you” he said softly.

Arm over your shoulder with your hand clasping onto it, Sam holds you as you both walk towards the boat Nate, Elena, Sully and Cassie are waiting by.

“Do you have any name ideas?” Sam asked

“Well, I’m not far along enough to know the sex of the baby…so no, I don’t, why?”

Well, you know, I think Avery would be a nice name”

“Sam…” you laugh

“No? How about TT?”


“Thomas….Tew” he said quietly

You groan in laughter.

“Oh! What about Adam or Christopher ooor oh, OH! May-” his voice gets overly excited

“Sam, stop!”


“What if the baby’s a girl?”

“Well we’ll settle for Anne!”

You laugh “You’re not going to stop are you?”

“Just until I run out of Pirate Captains!”

anonymous asked:

I don't mean it in a mean way, but I find it rather stupid to suddenly find "hate on me" with reasons all over the place. They freely admit every weak spot they may have and then wonder when they do get hate? Send the hate to people who are sarcastic fucks instead and give off funny responses. Act as they don't give a fuck. In real life that never works but on the Internet it does, always worked with me so far. One hate, sarcastic answer, then silence

// It’s an attempt to protect others.

People I know with each sign

Chris // Aries: Goofy, childish, fun, playful, optimistic, favorite color is lime green smells like cologne but never wears it.
Josh // Taurus: Calm, wise, funny, peaceful,  favorite color is royal purple is always really comforting in stressful situations.
Lala // Gemini: Excited, moody, wild, passionate, wears funky clothes and is always into the weirdest bands.
Dad // Cancer: Grumpy, loyal, caring, sweet, favorite color is green and orange always surprises me with sentimental words.
Sharon // Leo: Warm, loving, giving, silly, reminds me of sunshine and always smells like spearmint.
Mom // Virgo: Generous, wise, intelligent, understanding, loves purple always gives the best smiles.
Brandon // Libra: Joyful, hilarious, sassy, playful, gives the best greetings, has the most charming smile.
James // Scorpio: Genius, sarcastic, amusing, honest, always brings logic to every situation makes you feel welcome.
Hailey // Sagittarius: Blunt, carefree, intelligent, responsible, loves adventures and isn’t afraid to speak her mind.
Brooke // Capricorn: Quiet, reasonable, drama free, organized, has a cute sense of humor, loves the color pink.
Alaina // Aquarius: Imaginative, sweet, cute, loves anime, always makes the goofiest faces.
Ellie // Pisces: Honest, determined, mystifying, powerful, loves gray and white has a very strong personality.

Coping Pt 6

Originally posted by bookwormirmak

Finally, Coping Part 6! Hope you guys enjoy! Please feel free to leave comments and requests!

Immediately, you felt our heart drop at his words. “No, I’m not doing it.” Of course Dean had prepared for you to respond like that- he didn’t miss a beat. “Y/N, we don’t really have a choice right now. Are you really going to risk losing Sam and Cas for some hook up?” It felt like Dean had punched you in the gut. You couldn’t believe he’d said something to insensitive. “It’s not like that Dean- I love him.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You glanced up, your eyes cathing Chuck’s. He was standing there, just a few feet away, his mouth open in awe. “You- you love me?” You didn’t know how to answer. His blue eyes were locked on yours, desperately waiting for you to confirm what he had just overheard. Instead you said “Chuck, I’m on the phone.” His face instantly fell-almost as if you’d hit him. He pursed his lips and sort of nodded. You avoided his gaze. “Smooth.” Dean replied over the phone, his voice sarcastic and snarky. “Shut up,” You sighed in response, turning to look back at Chuck, but he was gone. You knew you weren’t good with words but that was particularly bad. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt Chuck. Groaning, you kicked yourself for not being honest with Chuck. Of course you were in love with him. “I’ll call you back, Dean. And I swear- don’t you dare touch Chuck.” Without giving him the chance to respond you hung up and went after Chuck. He was back in the library, a book propped open in front of him, a sort of grimace on his handsome face.

“Chuck listen, I’m sorry for what I said.” You began, leaning against the doorframe. “No, it’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He answered sweetly, as he always did, which almost made it hurt worse. “No Chuck, that’s not it, I just… I don’t know how to. I don’t know how to tell you how I feel. I’m a mess. I’ve never done this before-” You trailed off, glancing at the dusty books on the shelves. Chuck sighed and leaned back in his seat, the wood scraping noisily against the tile floor. Carefully he stood and moved towards you, his hand taking yours. “Y/N… I never thought you’d ever love me. I accepted that a long time ago- before I even met you- so don’t worry about it. Just don’t keep things from me.” He then promptly dropped your hand and exited the room. You stood there feeling rather hurt; your main goal was to keep Chuck safe, not to lie to him. You followed him.

He was in your room, seated at the desk, writing. “Chuck, I won’t let Dean take you.” You told him quite suddenly. Chuck looked up at you, his lips parted, blue eyes electric. His lips looked so soft, so pink. You wanted to taste them. You did your best to restrain yourself. Chuck furrowed his brows and looked from the pages he was writing to you.

“Where does he want to take me?” He questioned, almost sounding as if he were considering it. You weren’t having any of that. You barely knew Chuck but you were so accustomed to having him by your side that there was no way in hell you were going to use him as a bargaining chip. “It doesn’t matter because he isn’t taking you anywhere.” You told him with your most authoritative voice. “Don’t I get a say?” He challenged, raising from his seat and a few inches above you. You weren’t used to this Chuck. Usually you told him how things were going to be and he followed your lead. Chuck had waltzed into your life and you weren’t ready to give him up. He made you feel normal- stable, even. “No, you don’t. I can’t risk something happening to you, okay? So just…listen to me.” You finally instructed, turning and reaching for a duffel bag. “We’re leaving.” You told him, throwing some necessities inside hastily- jeans, a hoodie, Sam’s flannel- and Chuck simply watched. He wasn’t angry, he almost seemed sad as he watched you gather up the few possessions that actually mattered to you. He couldn’t help but feel guilty; from the moment he met you all he’d done was cause trouble. Whether it was because of his stupid visions, or his inability to defend himself, or his awkward self in general he had done nothing but bring negativity to you. He hated it. He knew you were safer without him weighing you down, he was just a liability; a toy that was bound to break.

“Please, we need to go. Dean’s going to come get you- I don’t know when so we need to get as far away as we can.” He looked devastated, his cobalt eyes darting from you to the black gym bag that you were trying to stuff to the brim as quickly as possible. “You love Dean.” He said rather abruptly. You looked at him. He was standing there with his arms crossed, his gaze on the ground. “You love Sam.” He added, with a sort of shrug. “I would never take you away from them. I’m not worth it, we all know it. Just do what Dean says.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Chuck Shurley I swear to God, get your shit together in the next five minutes or I’m dragging you out of here. Do you understand me?” You were furious to hear him say something like that. Yes you loved Sam and Dean, yes they were family to you- but that didn’t mean what they were doing was right. He swallowed hard. “Okay.” You breathed a sigh of relief. You would have dragged him.

Five minutes later you were speeding down the road  in a 1957 Fleetwood that had been sitting in the bunker garage for years. Dean knew what Chuck’s car looked like and although it wasn’t exactly an inconspicuous car you assumed it would get the job done. Neither you nor Chuck had really spoken since you’d used your ‘mom’ voice on him- you were too angry to say anything. You wanted to curse him for saying such terrible things about himself, you wanted to hold him as closely as you possibly could, but most of all you wanted to tell him you loved him. You were still working up the courage. Instead you watched the cornfields whir by, your sight nervously checking the rearview mirror every few seconds. You adored the Impala- but not when it was coming after you.

Finally you made it to one of Garth’s safe houses in Missouri- one Sam and Dean didn’t know about. You decided it would be best to stay there, sigil the place from roof to floor board, and wait until Dean dropped this whole thing. You knew eventually he would.

He’d realize the ends wouldn’t justify the means. Chuck was much more valuable to you in your care then in Crowley’s. Yes you wanted Sam back, yes you wanted to save Cas, but this was not the way to do it. You needed the upper hand- something to hold over Crowley’s head. Or perhaps you could find a spell, some way to take control of Rowena without the collar; honestly, there were numerous other solutions to your problem.

While Chuck was in the bathroom you sat and began writing them down, trying to come up with a way to convince Dean to listen to you. Your mind was in a whirl, you could hardly keep your thoughts straight as you furiously wrote. Chuck emerged about five minutes later and peered over our shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“What’s this?” He asked, gesturing to the growing list of ideas you’d been having. “A way out of this mess. Dean will realize he’s being unreasonable and he’ll ignore this ridiculous deal Crowley’s proposed.” He nodded and leaned back, glancing from you to the list.

“And what was it that Crowley proposed?” He questioned. “He wanted to trade Rowena’s leash for you, which is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard-”

“I think you should do it.” He responded immediately, catching you completely off guard. “Chuck I already told you-”

“Yeah, I heard you. But I should be able to make this decision on my own. And if I can do this to help you- to make things easier for you, I’m going to do it because you deserve something good to happen for once.” You just stood and listened in surprise. Chuck had taken charge before, but never quite like this. You weren’t going to budge though, because losing Chuck, no matter the reward, could never help you. You wanted to tell him this, the words that lingered on your lips, the feelings bubbling up inside of you- but you couldn’t. So of course, you were harsh again, using words that surely cut deep. “It’s not about you, this is bigger than you. I’m afraid you don’t get a choice.” Chuck feigned a smile and took a step back.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Your eyes darted from Chuck to the door- what did he do? You rushed passed him and peaked out the grimy window and saw Dean standing there, a stern expression on his face. “I called him while I was in the bathroom. He was already coming after us, Y/N. Please, just let me help you.” You felt betrayed. Incredibly betrayed. All you wanted to do was keep him safe and instead he was going behind your back, selling you out to Dean? You felt tears threatening to fall.
“Y/N, open the door.” Dean called from the other side, his strong fist knocking on the hardwood. Chuck went to move past you to let Dean in, but you stepped in front of him.

“Chuck don’t you understand? I need you. I can’t do this alone, I just… I’m not good with words, okay? Not like you are. But please, don’t do this.” You plead, your eyes searching his desperately. Chuck grimaced- hurting you like this wasn’t what he wanted. He began to believe maybe you were right, maybe this was a mistake, but Dean’s incessant banging made him realize it was too late for all that now.

He approached you carefully, taking your cheeks between his hands, his lips meeting yours sweetly. “I love you, Y/N.” Chuck told you, his forehead pressed against yours. Now you were crying- you weren’t sure if you’d ever see Chuck again, if you could ever prove to him that you loved him too.

The door flew open- Dean must have kicked it in- tired of waiting. You released Chuck at once and charged for Dean. The only time you had ever fought was in combat training. And unfortunately- Dean was the one that had trained you. You landed a punch, a good one that sent him reeling. “Chuck, get as far as you can,” You instructed, throwing him they keys from your pocket. Dean caught you by surprise, knocking your legs out from under you and forcing you to the ground. Dean’s conscience winning out, he offered you his arm to help you up; he didn’t want to fight you, he loved you. And you loved him too, but this time you had to stand up for yourself and Chuck. Dean should have known better. “Sorry, Dean.” You said quickly, kicking him as hard as you physically could square in his chest. He gasped for air, falling back down to the hard floor. “Chuck, I told you to go!” He was still standing there in awe, watching the two of you fight so unforgivingly with one another. “For me!” You added, hoping he’d take it seriously.

Finally he seemed to register what you had said, nodding in agreement. He turned to exit the cabin, and came face to face with Crowley. “Hello, prophet.” Crowley smirked, his voice low and gravelly. Crowley was always unnerving to look at, dressed head to toe in black, that devious smirk plastered across his smug face. He was always just begging to get punched.

Chuck knew it was too late and looked at you apologetically. You weren’t going to give up that easily. You grabbed the demon blade from your belt and went to lunge at the King of Hell, unafraid of whatever fight you were getting yourself into. Instead of thrusting the blade into Crowley’s chest like you had wanted to, Dean grabbed your wrist and held you back with an iron grip. You looked up at him furiously, trying to wriggle free. “I’m sorry, kiddo.” He said lowly, his voice cracking a bit. The next thing you knew he was hitting you with the butt of his gun- and hard. Chuck screamed and tried to rush towards you, but to no avail. He struggled against Crowley’s grasp and the last thing you saw was him vanishing into a cloud of smoke. With a defeated sob, you were out like a light.

When you woke up you were alone and your head throbbed. You found a note a few feet away and snatched it up quickly. “Y/N, I’m sorry. You may not believe me but I really am. I need your help getting Sam home, Cas is still missing and I can’t do this alone.  Please, call me when you’re ready to talk. I love you. - Dean”

You scoffed. He loves you? Tell that to your fucking concussion. You carefully stood and winced, your head protesting the movement. The cabin was mostly empty, and you searched for anything left behind that you could use. You realized Chuck had left all of his things behind. You peaked in the duffel bag, your eyes narrowing in confusion as you found a large stack of papers, held together by a big rubber band. The title was sprawled across the cover in Chuck’s handwriting. It read “Don’t Call Me Shurley” in big black letters, your curiosity aroused, you picked it up and started reading.


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anonymous asked:

do you have any tips on writing stoic characters who are still funny and have some personality

  1. Determine the reason for their stoicism. Many authors use previous trauma to justify stoicism. It’s perfectly acceptable to make stoicism a part of their character, particularly if they are an introvert. Maybe they endure so much while showing so little for the sake of others who are relying on them for emotional support. It could even be that they’re infallibly idealistic and what happens to them now is nothing compared to what will be or could happen in the future. You can build on that aspect of their character instead of just “stoic”. 
  2. Stoicism is not everything. You have a character who is stoic, which means they don’t show feelings in face of pain. That is not a well-developed character. Many types of people can be stoic. Jerks can be stoic. Hearts-of-gold types can be stoic. You can even have a funny character who becomes very serious under pressure. Stoicism is one trait of the tens or hundreds of traits you should be using to describe your character.
  3. Humor. I imagine that a stoic would have a dry wit or sarcastic sense of humor. Give them a few one-liners and dry observations. Give other characters one-liners, obviously, but they probably have other forms of humor. If the stoic character is also a POV character, you have a little more freedom - maybe they are funny in their minds but are afraid of sharing their humor with others. 
  4. Show, don’t tell. Yes, yes this stupid advice again goddammit. It’s especially important with stoic characters, who won’t voice their opinions as often as others. What other venue do they have other than physical responses? Spend time on their facial features, how they will pick up dropped items for some and not others, what clothes they’re wearing, the condition of their hair - little things like that. It will cue the reader in on what’s under the mask.