do not go quietly

How your (Venus) sign expresses love
  • Aries: Wholeheartedly, forcefully, honestly, brightly
  • Taurus: Through hints, small gestures, and telling others
  • Gemini: Through physical affection and regular attention
  • Cancer: Through massive gestures and love letters
  • Leo: Through honest words and late night texts/visits
  • Virgo: By paying more attention, working on themselves and reminding you what they love about you
  • Libra: By hugging you tighter than anyone else and going out of their way to do things for you
  • Scorpio: Quietly, truly, loyaly, with fairy-tale romance
  • Sagittarius: By taking you on adventures, sharing with you what they love
  • Capricorn: By being a much happier and open person around you, by romantic gestures
  • Aquarius: Sweetly, timidly, cautiously, kindly, frequently
  • Pisces: Truthfully, undeniably, over the top, very romantic
10

(✿ ♥‿♥) Santa Beard Appreciation 

→ through the flames (and into the lava)

Originally posted by kookielife

pairing → Jungkook x Reader

genre smut, fluff, slight humor, crack || dragon!jk, fantasy!au i guess

☆ warnings  public indecency, dry humping, fingering, non-penetrative sex, cumplay, i’m sorry

☆ word count  → 7.8k

Your boyfriend is a dragon.

Or so he claims.

or; the perks (and unexpected complications) of dating a fucking dragon

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Who’s your Boyfriend?

Summary: You wake up from a sexy dream featuring Dean to come face to face with your less than pleased boyfriend, Castiel. 

A/N: @greenappleeyes gave me this idea and I WENT NUTS WHEN SHE GAVE IT TOO ME AND I OBSESSIVELY THOUGHT ABOUT THIS UNTIL MY WRITER’S BLOCK WAS GONE AND WAS ABLE TO WRITE IT

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Warnings: language, slight dom!cas, oral (female receiving….lots of it), multiple orgasms, over sensitivity, bondage (if you considered getting pinned down by cas’ grace and tied to your headboard with his tie), also, smut. I think that’s it?

Word Count: 2.3k

Originally posted by supernaturalfreewill

You leaned up to kiss Dean as he’d slid an arm underneath you, and pulled you up and straddle his lap. You moaned into his mouth as you sank down onto him. Your head fell back as he slowly filled you, his mouth finding one of your breasts as you slowly began to move your hips back and forth. He sucked and teased your nipple with his teeth, the sensitivity causing you to tremble as you rode him. 

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“I’m just asking this one thing of you.” Her voice was calm, but it wasn’t enough to cover the storm that raged inside of her. He already knew what she was going to ask. To be frank, he’d been waiting for it, had thought it’d happen every time they locked eyes. But she’d given him the silent treatment, waiting for him to make the first move and explain. He hadn’t caved in, not to the coldness in her eyes or the stubborn tilt of her jaw. Yet. Apparently she’d run out of patience.
“Why do you keep pushing me away? Be honest with me.” Honest. That word alone drove a hundred needles into his skull. If there was one thing he sucked at, it was honesty, especially if it concerned people he loved. Especially if it led to him admitting to a weakness. Admitting to fear.
“Every time I think I managed to get through to you, it’s like you never heard me at all. It’s like you don’t even try to listen. You’re not making an effort.” How very wrong she was but that too was something she could not know. Something he could not say out loud because words had a funny way of backfiring and making things even worse.
“You’re right. I’m not making an effort. I don’t want to. I don’t care.” Her face fell and his heart sank. What kind of person was he to protect his own skin, to let her put her heart on the line and not give anything in return?
“I think you do,” she said quietly. “I think you see where this is going and you’re scared so you’re trying to make me leave on my own. But I won’t. I won’t leave you no matter how often you push me away.”
“You want me to be honest?” She nodded and straightened, throwing her shoulders back. Every inch of her was attentive.
“I fall in love hard and fast. It takes as much time for me to fall out of love. I open my heart, I get attached, everything is fine until it isn’t. Until someone ends up breaking my heart or I break theirs and it always ends in fights and screams and tears and I’m sick of it.” Without noticing his hands had balled into fists. Heat rose in his cheeks. Never had he meant to lose control like this. His tone softened. “If I don’t risk anything, I don’t lose. That’s it. It’s not your fault.”
She reached for his hand and squeezed, gentle but firm.
“But you don’t know how it ends before you start, do you? You cannot possibly know.” Every part of him wanted to pull away, had to pull away, but he couldn’t. He’d been running for so long, struggling so hard, twisting and winding and always escaping. But he was tired. His very soul was tired.
“Because if you don’t risk anything, you can’t win, either,” she whispered, pulling him closer and closer until the only thing he wanted to be was honest with her. Until he no longer wanted to escape.
—  I’ll risk it for you / n.j.
what I found in you | 01

Originally posted by jkguks

jungkook x reader slight angst, smut

12,820 words

a/n: remember that time i posted a long list of fic ideas n stuff i was writing and this wasn’t on it? oops! this was originally gonna be a oneshot but things got way out of hand so, please forgive me for taking two months to write a 12K part one, i know i’m garbage. the next part will have a lot more angst so prepare yourselves, and once again thx @mysoftae this would never have come to fruition without you ;(

~ in which your ridiculously hot, annoying brat of a roommate keeps you up at all hours of the night, takes up all your space, is essentially trying to ruin your life, and is intent on sticking his dick in you


     You had always liked living alone.

     There were no one’s dishes to wash but your own, you could play your music as loud as you wanted, the only person you had to worry about your cat liking was yourself, nobody could complain about what spices you stunk up the place with, and most importantly, you never had to wear pants.

     You would have been content to live alone for the rest of your sad, lonely life enjoying nothing but those small pleasures.

     Then one day there was Jeon Jungkook, on his knees, hands clasped beneath his chin, looking up at you with those wide, glittering brown eyes of his. Maybe you would have said no if he hadn’t been blocking you up against the door to the library, if there hadn’t been a line of people building up behind him complaining about the two of you being in their way, if he actually would have moved when you grabbed his shoulder and tried to shove him to the side with all of your strength. That kid had been working out a little too much.

     Also, he was begging. That might have had something to do with it.

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It Takes An Accident- Pietro x Reader

Authors notes: I have never done a Soulmate AU so I hope this is okay. Thanks for the request Anon. Also, I dished this out this morning and did not read it over and over like I usually do to edit fics so, sorry for any mistakes. Also, also, I don’t do science so I hope the number thing makes sense.

Prompt: I have a request (no rush) if you write Pietro could you write a soulmate mark one? Pietro or reader has their mark in a hard to see place so one doesn’t what to look for, but the other has it on a visible spot. .. Am I making sense I’m not sure XD

 Notes/Warnings: I cant really think of anything but maybe adrenaline rush, flying, falling, crashing.

Originally posted by heartstacey

 You hate it.

 Its dark and it hurt when it burned into your skin. On the plus side, its on the the back of your hip so, no one can see the deep red numbers that sat raised slightly above the rest of your skin. They looked like scars, lifted with a slight shine to them. The thing that bothered you about all this soulmate nonsense was the fast that it was so unclear.

 For some people their numbers were a date, for some a location, and others, a time. Then, there were the extremely rare ones who got letters, initials or even an actual name. You however were stuck with numbers, so there was no way of knowing what yours meant.

 The number was too short to be a date or location. So, what did 894 mean? Screw it, you didn’t care. With your luck, you probably wouldn’t even meet your soulmate, it’s known to happen to some people.

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Secrets

Peter Parker X Reader

Word Count: 1907

Warning: There is a teeny bit of kissing. But it’s kind of cute????

A/N: Hey, I know this isn’t a Crash Landing update, but I’m kind of struggling with it at the moment. So, I wrote this. Also, if you haven’t seen an earlier post, I’m away for the next four-ish weeks, so don’t expect to hear all too much from me for a bit. I am trying to queue up some writing, but I can’t make any promises! I love you guys!

Want to be tagged in future fics? Please let me know!

(not my gif)

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3 Billion Dollars - G Dragon Mafia!AU

Originally posted by shadowtina

Summary: When your father owes 3 billion dollars to the mafia, he must repay his debt. Although things don’t exactly go the way he hoped. 

Genre: Fluffy with a hint of angst in this one

{part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4} {part 5} {part 6} {part 7} {part 8} {part 9} {part 10} {part 11} {part 12} {part 13} {part 14} {part 15} {part 16} {part 17} {part 18} {part 19} {part 20}

A/N: This is the first story I’m posting on Tumblr! I hope you like it! I will always take requests if you wanna send me any. Anyways please enjoy! 

PS: This is just part 1 and it maybe kinda slow.

not my gif

~ Admin Brooklyn

“What are we going to do?” Your mother whisper quietly to her husband. Her disappointment in your father was clear, as her face framed her emotions, all of them ranging from anger and frustration to anxiety and worry.

“I don’t know, but I’m so sorry.” Your dad said, remorse filling his voice. “I’m sorry. I’ve should’ve found a better way. I could’ve-”

“Are they coming?” Your mother cut him off, igniting a new problem in their minds.

“I don’t know. They didn’t say they would.” Your father said. As if on cue, the doorbell chimed through the house. Little three-year-old you smiled and ran towards the door.

“Mommy, Mommy someone’s here!” You giggled joyfully. As you stood in front of the door waiting for someone to open it. Your mother picked you up and carried you away from the front door.

“Sweetheart, (Y/N), go play in your room please.” You looked at your mother with wide eyes and nodded your head. She carefully set you down and you headed towards your room. Your mother watched as you climbed the steps and went to your room. The sound of the doorbell broke her trance. She looked at the door with panic and fear as she turned the knob. She plastered a smile on her face as the door swung open.

Her smile dropped as her visitor sprouted a malicious one. Before her stood Mr. Kwon, a high class mafia boss, one of the richest men in the world, and the man your father owes more than 3 billion dollars too.

“Hello. You must be (Y/M/N). I’m sure your know who I am.” He said. His voice was smooth and sharp, like a knife. He was older than what his appearance said, although a few grey hairs had threatened show. He had cunning cat-like eyes and thin lips. He was surrounded by men, all covered in dark clothing, except a little boy whom wore red and clinged to Mr. Kwon’s legs. He had big round cheeks and short jet black hair with dark brown eyes. He couldn’t be older than five. Your father walked up to your mother and gave Mr. Kwon a loose awkward smile.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” He said his voice wavering. “Please come in.”

Mr. Kwon gave him a curt nod, a devilish smile plastered on his face. Mr. Kwon held the little boy’s free hand, the boy’s other hand was occupied by a bright red gift bag. Mr. Kwon lead the little boy inside, then followed by all the men around him.

“Thank you for inviting us. Who knows what would happen if you didn’t.” Mr. Kwon said. He took off his shoes then turned towards the little boy to help. His shoes already off and neatly set together on the mat holding other shoes. You mom and dad led the way towards your kitchen. Mr. Kwon sat down and pulled the boy closer to him.”This is my son Ji Yong. He seemed lonely, and I’ve heard that you have a daughter.”

At his words your mom and dad shot up, terrified about Mr. Kwon’s plans. Young Ji Yong clutched the gift bag to his chest. Mr. Kwon smiled at their fear, his eyes scanning over your parents. “Why don’t you call her over?”

His request sent chills up your mother’s spine. She frowned and opened her mouth to say something, but your father stopped her. She glared at him, until he nudged her, hinting at how the men around them were reaching for their guns. Ji Yong started at your mother watching her first instinct to defy his father.

“(Y/N), come down here please.” Your father called stiffly. Ji Yong watched your parents carefully, his gaze then switching to the men that came with them. The men listened to his father out of respect, while your parents listened out of fear. Ji Yong sometimes envied the control that his father had. Ji Yong looked up at his father, who looked down and smiled fondly at him. Little footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs at an uneven, yet steady pace. You walked towards the kitchen, a smile on your face. As you stepped into the kitchen, your smile fell. You looked at mom and a small smile formed on your face as you ran to her. You eyed the men in the room, your innocent eyes staring out of curiosity, as you hid behind your mother’s legs.

“Hi there. You must be (Y/N).” Mr. Kwon said. Your parents grabbed your shoulders and pulled you closer to them. You made eye contact with Mr. Kwon, who looked at you expectantly. You nodded your head then looked at the floor. Mr. Kwon chuckled at your cuteness and guided Ji Yong so he stands in front of him. Ji Yong was staring at you, watching you in curiosity. You didn’t seem afraid, just shy.

“This is my son Ji Yong. He came to play with you (Y/N).” Mr. Kwon said. Your head shot up, eyes wide. You’ve never had someone to play with before. Ji Yong smiled at you and you stepped away from your mother. Her grip on your shoulders tightened as she pulled you back to her. The men in black were quick to react as their hands went to their belts, grabbing their weapons.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, calm down. We’re trying to make friends. Isn’t that right (Y/L/N)?” Mr. Kwon’s taunting smile threatened your mother and father. You watched the men as their hands backed away slowly from their guns. Your father pried your mother’s hands off your shoulders. Ji Yong stepped towards you as you walked away from your mother and towards him.

“Hi there.” Ji Yong said softly. His voice was quiet, but reached your ears softly. You gave him a shy wave and looked at him with wide curious eyes. He smile softly and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/N), can you take Ji Yong to play up in your room? I need to talk to your parents.” Mr. Kwon’s voice asked. His voice very calm and relaxed, while your parents quivred in fear. You nodded your head and walked towards Ji Yong, grabbing his hand in your tiny one.

“Come on.” You said quietly, still feeling slightly shy. You were happy to play with somebody, but that doesn’t mean you knew them. Your parent’s had always said to never trust a stranger, and you still didn’t know anything about Ji Yong, except for his name. You lead him away from the kitchen and towards the stairs leading to the upper level of the house. Ji Yong’s hand was able to wrap around yours easily, almost engulfing your tiny one. The red gift bag made crinkling noises as he walked up stairs with you guiding him up and out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your parents watched Mr. Kwon, his venomous smile ready to unleash his hidden plan that would soon haunt them. Everyone could hear the footsteps as they reached the top of the steps, as well as the rustling the gift bag made as Ji Yong climbed the steps. It wasn’t until the squeaking of your door, followed by the sound of it shutting, did Mr. Kwon finally say something.

“You’re in quite the pickle aren’t you (Y/L/N)?” Mr. Kwon said, getting up from his seat and stalking his way towards the refrigerator. He opened it carelessly and grabbed a drink. “Three billion dollars. That’s a lot of money. Not to mention the men, and the time I lost without that money. You sir, owe me a lot in order to compensate what I lost.”

“It’s okay though, I’ve decided there are a few things we could do to fix your little problem.” Mr. Kwon had them and he knew it. The way your father’s eyes lit up, but at the same time your mother’s skeptical eyes glared, preparing for what he had planned for her family.

“Your daughter is wonderful, by the way. She seems very shy, yet I think she’ll be very independent.” Your mother narrowed her eyes at him. Mr. Kwon just smirked, happy that he was able to get some reaction out of her. He loved seeing how people tried to defy him, like they would have a chance to prove him wrong, especially when he had the power to be right.

“Stay away from my daughter. She has nothing to do with this.” Your mother said. The men around them reached for their guns, but made no effort to aim them.

“Sweetheart you are in no position to be making orders. Your husband here, has wasted a lot of my money, my time, and my men. You must know how valuable money is. Things always seem to be more expensive when you have kids, don’t they.” Mr. Kwon paused, taking a sip of his drink. His pause went on a little longer, not only for dramatic effect,  but he wanted to watch as fear sunk into your mother’s eyes. “I just want to make sure I have what I need to solidify my child’s future.”

“What do you mean?” Your father asked cautiously. Mr. Kwon malicious smile appeared once again. He stayed quiet until he heard what he had been waiting for. The house seemed to echo your screams soon followed by a quieter, more joyful fit of giggles. Your parents faces fell containing their horror and shock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You smiled and clung to Ji Yong as he giggled and smiled. You had been playing together for quite sometime, enjoy each other’s company, well at least you were. After you had gotten to your room he had given you his gift. The shiny red bag with the red and white tissue paper preventing you from seeing to the gift. Ji Yong watched as you unwrapped the gift slowly but surely making your way to the object his father picked out for you. Ji Yong knew what was going on down stairs. He already knew the ultimatum his father would be giving your parents in a minute. He knew what his father had planned for his future, and Ji Yong trusted his father enough to let him take control. So he sat back and watched your eyes light up with joy as you pulled out a fuzzy deep blue blanket that held another item. Along with the blanket was a stuffed dog, a blue ribbon acting as a small collar. You pulled the blanket around you and held onto the dog, creating a small tent just for yourself.

“Do you like it?” Ji Yong asked. You smile and nodded happily.

“Thank you.” You said sweetly. Ji Yong gave you his wide smile and scooted closer to you. “Wanna help me make a fort?”

After a few minutes of setting up, Ji Yong pushing chairs and pillows, and you sitting with blankets directing him where things should go, the fort was done and filled with all your stuffed animals. Ji Yong crawled his way into the fort, making you giggle as he commando crawled. You scooted over to make room for him, only to run into Miss Cupcake, your stuffed unicorn, causing you to sit on her hind legs due to the lack of space. He smiled at you and grabbed a storybook, showing off his skill of reading to you. Although the few words he skipped caused rifts in the story, you enjoyed the effort he made and soon you two started playing games.

Half way through the game of hide and seek in your room (which didn’t last two round thanks to Miss Cupcake being a tattle tale). Ji Yong had found you in your closet and scared you by tickling your sides causing you to scream. You fell over on top of him in a fit of giggles and kept rolling until his torture ended. By then he was smiling and you were a fit of giggles. Ji Yong would just smile at you and you couldn’t stop laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You are not going to take my daughter away from me and give her away like some prize.” Your mother growled at Mr. Kwon. He raised his eyebrow in amusement as the men around them pulled out their guns and aimed them at your mother. Your father pulled her closer to him and held her tightly against his chest. Calming down, her growling of ungodly words had settled to a glare as Mr. Kwon casually sipped his drink. Your giggles still echoing in the house.

“You see, I planned to let her live with you. Let you raise her, teach her what she’ll need to know, until Ji Yong can take my spot. Then she’ll become apart of the mafia world, alongside my son. Or we can continue this, let you struggle and fight to save your only daughter. Which will end up with both of you dead on the floor, and (Y/N) an orphan. I guess we’ll just have to take her in early then. So your choice (Y/L/N), now or later.” Mr. Kwon stood patiently waiting for their answer. Your mother calmed down, but her glare was steady. The men lowered their weapons as your mother nodded her head and Mr. Kwon smiled at his victory.

“Good choice.” Mr. Kwon was cut off by hurried foot steps and the sound of giggling. You ran into the kitchen, the fuzzy blue blanket still wrapped around you. You hid behind your mother’s legs, your giggling dying down. Ji Yong ran to catch up with you and caught you in the kitchen. Your giggles grew back to life again and you ran away from your mother and towards Mr. Kwon. You hid behind his legs, until he picked you up.

“Do you like your gift (Y/N)?” He asked sweetly. You nodded your head shyly and buried yourself in the blanket more.

“She’s still shy around you dad.” Ji Yong said. Mr. Kwon looked down at Ji Yong and smiled. He set you down carefully then smiled at your parents. They watched in horror as you giggle playfully with Ji Yong, him tickling you as you fell onto the floor again.

“This has been wonderful, but we must get going Ji Yong, you have to get to bed soon.” Mr. Kwon said, a knowing smile on his face. A whine sounded from both you and Ji Yong as you two stopped playing. Ji Yong helped you up and then sent a smile your way. You couldn’t help but giggle as you covered his head with the blanket once more. He smiled at you then pulled away and looked up at his father. Mr. Kwon guided Ji Yong towards his shoes and got ready to leave, with you trailing behind them silently. You gave Ji Yong one last smile, which was quickly returned by a wide one of his own.

“Goodbye little (Y/N), hopefully we’ll see you soon.” Mr. Kwon said sweetly at you. You smiled back at him and gave him a small wave.

“I hope you understand our deal (Y/L/N). We don’t want anything to get ruined.” Mr. Kwon said, his malicious smile returning once more. Your father gave him a curt nod, satisfying Mr. Kwon.

“Bye Bye Yongie.” You said to Ji Yong smiling. Mr. Kwon smiled down at his shoes, while your parents stood motionless. Ji Yong turned and smiled at you and waved. His shoes on and ready to go.

“Bye (Y/N). I’ll see you later.” Ji Yong replied. Mr. Kwon held Ji Yong’s hand and walked out the door, leaving you to wonder when they’ll come back.

When they’ve got him in the interrogation room every officer seems to have the same question; was it worth it? With all that happened, with how it turned out, the years of drunken revelry, the constant media attention, the heists, the hubris, the way it ended in a bloodbath the likes of which Los Santos has never seen. This is your legacy Ramsey, was it worth it?

They ask like his answer means anything, ask like they even care what he thinks, ask like they don’t think he feels anything at all. They ask like it wasn’t his plans that brought him here. Like it wasn’t his plans the led to six body bags and a single pair of handcuffs, a room full of tactless officers and a kingpin with no one left to call crew. They ask like can’t help themselves from asking.

Was it worth it?



There’s never a serious discussion, no big heart to heart, but there’s no escaping the fact that the Fake’s all know they are dying in slow motion. More or less signed their own death certificate’s years ago, living on stolen time, and sooner or later they’ll find themselves in the ground.

They took Los Santos by storm and defended it with their lives. With each others lives. Have sacrificed themselves and the ones they love to a city that takes no prisoners. They fought hard for their crown, and kept on fighting every single day to succeed, to profit, to reaffirm themselves as the city’s biggest bads. They knew that they would only be unstoppable until they aren’t. Until the day they fall, and eventually they must fall.  

Even after all the years of action, all the blood, sweat and tears they’ve poured into this empire, everyone knows there is no such thing as retirement for the Fake AH Crew; for all they’ve already trained their own successors the frontrunners of the reigning crew in Los Santos will never be allowed to simply step down and move aside when their time is over. Between old enemies and constant rivals, members of law enforcement and anyone simply looking to boost their own reputation, there are countless numbers who would hunt them to the ends of the earth. Everyone knows, one way or another, the FAHC is going out bloody.

And by god, did they go out bloody.



The Fake’s die halfway through the afternoon on a Tuesday. What a fucking inconsequential day right? They were owed a Friday at the very least, were meant to go out past midnight, meant to go out in a blaze of glory. They were meant to go out all together. They weren’t meant to go out at all.  

The wheels fell off weeks before, a series of questionable jobs and public fights, a level of disorder totally out of line with the crew’s trademark cohesion. Rumour has it they were rife with in-fighting. Rumour has it after all this time the cracks were finally showing. Its easy, afterwards, to read into the events that came before, to manufacture clues, to swear the writing was on the wall for anyone to see. In reality no one saw it coming. In reality the whole damn city was taken by surprise.

Maybe they bit off more than they could chew, maybe they were distracted, out of sync, or maybe it was just the inevitable finally catching up with them but in the end the Fake’s wind up in a firefight they aren’t winning. After endless years of near misses and close calls, of lucky runs and brilliant timing, after thousands of impossible victories, the FAHC finally lost.

To lose like this, picked off one by one, powerless to save themselves, to save each other, must have been their worst nightmare. With every body on the ground those left only grew more furious, more reckless, lose whatever feeble grasp on self-preservation they ever had, throwing away any possibility of retreat in favour of retribution. It wasn’t enough.

In the end the only one left breathing on either side is Ramsey. The scene finally gone still, silent, the echoes of screams and gunfire fading away into a shivery stunned kind of shock. They say Ramsey’d fallen to his knees amongst the grime, iconic suit near indistinguishable under all the dirt and ash, the blood of men and women who thought they’d live forever. He kneels there in silence while sirens grow ever louder, makes no move to flee, doesn’t even look up from bodies as cars scream to a stop around him.

The messed up thing, the really fucked up part? They say Ramsey was laughing by the time the police got there. Say he stood and brushed himself off, surrounded by the bodies of those he claimed family, drenched sickly red while his empire lay in ruins, and laughed. And god doesn’t that confirm what everyone’s always thought, doesn’t that just prove he always was a monster. Never cared for anyone, for anything, not really. People used to say the one thing Geoff loved was his crew but it seems Ramsey’s cold-blooded ruthlessness won out in the end.



In the fallout of a travesty, of a victory, of an unexpected bloodbath, in a stark grey room faced with a distressingly apathetic villain, in circumstances none could have predicted, all the detectives seem capable of asking is if it was worth it in the end. They ask and ask and Ramsey’s answer never changes, his cold smirk never fades, so calm and unconcerned they catch him glancing at the clock, as though he’s bored. As though even now he’s got somewhere better to be. And still, full of horrified disbelief, they have to ask.

Was it worth it? Yes. Was it worth it? Always. Knowing what you know now, knowing how it ends, how they all go down for you, would you do it all again? Every damn time. Surely you have regrets, you had to know one day it would end like this.  

Oh baby, who says it’s over?



It comes together as a joke more than anything, the cumulation of too many late nights followed by too many bad movies. Their last job was tense, a heist with months of preparations and so much on the line, and while they’ve certainly celebrated their victory like royalty they didn’t come away unscathed. The injuries, numerous though mostly minor, serve to once again remind them all how lucky they’ve been so far. How most don’t make it nearly this many years without tragedy, couldn’t be in the game this long, let alone running the game this long without signing up for devastation. How losing a member, to outright death or crippling injury, is without a doubt only a matter of time at this point. How such a loss will be so much worse in this ridiculously close-knit crew than any they’d experienced before.

Sobering thoughts, combined with the difficulties of winding down after endless weeks of  stress eventually leads to the discussion they never have, the question of what else they could be doing with their lives, what choices brought them here, what they would do if they could just step out, sign off, retire. It’s not that they’re bored of this life they’ve built – how could they be when the world is their oyster – but there’s no denying the fact that after all this time terrorising Los Santos doesn’t quite thrill them like it used to.

If you’d asked any of them ten, five, hell even two years ago they’d have scoffed at the idea of ever retiring, would have sworn up and down that they wanted to go down in flames, to end with a bang, and at the time they meant it. At the time it was true. It still is, in a way, they’ll probably always see something dreadfully appealing in going out on top, but with every passing year it’s harder and harder to look at a room full of people they love and consider playing a role in their deaths. Every time they get hurt it takes a little longer to heal, the old aches and pains are becoming more prominent, and their ever growing patchwork of scars have started looking less badge of honour than they do morbid countdown. Obviously they’ve still got it, still in their prime enough to keep their crown, but between age and gratuitous injury, time is creeping up on them all.

The Fake’s used to joke about the end, said whoever lasted longest won, got to make off with the fortunes, live like a king, but that reality isn’t quite so funny anymore. The idea of surviving, of being left behind with nothing but cold hard cash and heyday memories is enough to make them physically ill. So maybe retiring doesn’t seem quite so unappealing anymore.

Maybe a passing comment way too late at night, after far too much mixing of alcohol and pain meds, in the spirit of some dumb con movie they’d all been heckling, was enough to plant an idea. A ridiculous, unrealistic, completely unattainable idea, but still an idea nonetheless. They’re all a bit hung up on it, still joking, still assuring one another that they aren’t serious, but still bringing it up all the same, running through all the possibilities.

It would take far more than simply disappearing; they have too much wealth and notoriety, have far too many enemies, the world is simply too easy a place to comb through these days. People, at least the vast majority of people, would have to be convinced not to come looking. Convinced there was nothing to look for, nothing to track, would have to think the absent members of the Fake AH Crew were in the one place no one could ever reach them.

There are ways, of course, to feign death. For those with the right contacts, with endless money and enough resources, there are ways to trick the body into something close enough to pass, at least for a time. But even then it’s not so simple; there must be witnesses, there must be evidence, crook and cop alike must be sure. Of course with a public death comes increased risk- it wouldn’t do to go so far in their act that appearances became reality, to go to such lengths to imitate death only to wind up that way regardless. Somehow, someone’s going to have to play guardian, prevent anyone’s corpse from catching a stray bullet to the brain, or jerking back to life too late with guts already laid out on an autopsy table. Someone has to be ready to whisk them all away, and who do any of them trust more than the man they’ve been following all these years. The boss they’d die for. The boss they will die for.

They don’t talk about it, because no one wants to admit it might be happening, no one wants to burst the bubble, to invite reality to rush in and crush the unbelievable thought that the Fake’s might get a happy ending, but at some point they stop laughing. At some point they each quietly start getting all their ducks in a row, using their free time to organise their affairs.

No one questions the way Geoff and Jack have started having day-long meetings with the support crew in-between jobs, the way Lindsay’s spending far more of her time recruiting than ever before, the way Gavin’s taking calls at all hours of the day, rarely in english, clearly haggling over something. They don’t wonder why all their money is getting moved around, why Ryan and Michael are busy collecting all outstanding debts while Jeremy and Ray are plotting the layout of the police station, the morgue.

It’s all happening on the down low, all behind business as usual, but eventually, after nearly a year of quiet organisation, they are just about ready to disappear. All that’s left is the bang, the flashy smoke and mirrors, the hook to stop anyone coming after them, anyone even thinking to track them down. One final step, one last decision to make, a choice they must commit to as one or not at all. All they’ve got left to do is die.



Over the years the Fake AH Crew has grown exponentially but the original elements have never drifted apart, never gone looking for something else or turned on one another. The crew has flourished, become a full blown empire, but nothing can touch the unity of the innermost members, as strong now as it have ever been. For all their loyal familiarity was mocked back in the day, for all their closeness was seen as a weakness, after all these years it seems only death itself will seperate them now. If they had the chance to evade their own mortality one last time, to get out, to be free, would they make the leap?



The Fake’s die halfway through the afternoon on a Tuesday. Pattillo, the Vagabond, Mogar and the Golden Boy, Little J and Brownman, but not the boss. Well not on paper anyway – any who knew them must know Ramsey’d never recover from the loss. Any who didn’t just know the LSPD took seven bodies away that day and none of them ever came back. It’s not a stretch to assume Ramsey’s survival was a rumour. To believe it wishful thinking, to say he died at the scene or died at the station, delayed injury or the cops cleaning up the last loose thread of the group who’d made their lives living hell for years.

There’s paperwork out there, somewhere, claiming a different story. A report that barely makes a lick of sense, the sworn record that a kingpin arrived in chains and left with corpses, slipped out of his cell like he was never there, without a hint as to how he got free. He disappeared like smoke, not a trace left behind, and none of the seven alive or dead ever resurfaced. The story is embarrassing, inexplicable, and it reflects badly enough on the LSPD that it is quickly buried.

Even if it hadn’t been there are few who would believe it. Few who could believe for even a moment that Ramsey could walk free and not be with the last of his crew, that he would let another run his empire, run his city, if he was in any way capable of preventing it. No, however it went down Ramsey did not survive. It’s fitting, really. No one can live forever and the OG Fake’s were certainty pushing their luck, had been pushing it for years; a crew that close should go out together.



The Fall of the Fake AH Crew isn’t much of a fall, in the end. The seemingly inevitable power vacuum one would expect following the death of the group who’d been running the city for endless years never comes. It shouldn’t be possible but even after the most devastating loss imaginable the the FAHC isn’t toppled from their throne. They restructure almost overnight; many of the oldest, original members of the support crew bow out, disappear on the wind without a trace, but there are more than enough left behind to fill their shoes. It’s almost perfect, almost unbelievable, some of support shuffling into the spotlight while still more unknown faces are revealed to boost their ranks. Their ability to keep their enemies at bay during the turmoil is impressive enough, but it’s the absence of internal conflicts that is truely boggling; there are no betrayals or executions, no public power plays or jealous feuds, somehow the city’s most scrutinised gang managed to completely restructure after the loss of not just their leader but all their key members without a single hitch. Almost like they were ready, like it was planned.



If the Fake’s had the chance to stay together, to start over somewhere else, stop waiting for the day one of them inevitably doesn’t make it home, but in return they had to step away from the action, give up everything they’d built, hand if off to legacy and fade out into legend, would it be worth it?

Apparently, yes. For all of them, from the moment the possibility arises, throughout every conversation, every debate and consideration, with everything they will lose, with everything they stand to gain, every goddamn time without fail, yes.



Somewhere out there, worlds away from Los Santos, a man sits on a private beach. He isn’t armed with anything more than a beer, there are no weapons, he simply sits upon the sand enjoying the breeze. There’s a woman to his right, sunbathing, a man to his left doing the same; golden tans make their startling number of scars stand out in stark relief but the heat of the sun does wonders for stubborn pains. At the shoreline old friends are knocking shoulders, bumping each other nearer and nearer to the water, not quite rough-housing like little boys but they’re getting close, voices rising on the wind.

The single house behind them is huge and noisy, full of music and chatter, full of monsters and overgrown children, the most loyal humans the man has ever had the honour of knowing. In a brief moment of silence sound from the television drifts down to the beach, an American news anchor reporting the latest infraction of some criminal organisation in a far away city; the house cheers and kicks back into a merry roar. Down by the water there is a betrayal, a splash and screeching protest as one winds up in the waves against his will. Safe on the sand, without a trouble in the world, the man laughs.

// This fic is for the HQ!! Ghibli Zine! Thank you to the organizers for this wonderful zine!

Nausicaä AU, daisuga. Art by @i-like-to-look-at-your-back

Check out more works @hq-ghibli-zine !! Words: 3114

AO3

//

To A Far Away Land



”Mask?”

”Yes.”

”The flute?”

”Yes.”

Tanaka assessed him as he tightened the buckles of his suit and slipped his leather gloves on.

”All set?”

”Yup,” Suga nodded. Tanaka was quiet and tugged at Suga’s sleeve smoothing out the wrinkles carefully, as if lost in thought. Suga inspected his features a moment, and then flashed a bright smile at him.

”It’s all fine! I’ll be back by dawn. Don’t worry.”

Tanaka hummed.

”The eastern wind is strong today.” The he grinned: ”So bring my glider back in one piece!”

”I’ll try,” Suga laughed, and punched his shoulder, laughing harder as Tanaka stumbled, holding his arm.

Then Suga took the glider and lifted it above his hands, running upwind and then jumped, and as the glider took under the winder and rose higher, Suga hoisted himself on it and started the engine with a press of his sole on the start pedal.

Tanaka watched him go until he was but a spot in the horizon.

Then, with a grim expression, he turned back for the village.

*

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Dark Nights (Part 3)

Originally posted by spnfans

Summary: Dean brings the reader back to the bunker where they realize the Alphas are a much bigger problem then they thought…

Dark Nights Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Some thoughtful, protective Alpha Dean for ya…


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anonymous asked:

Hi! May I have a prompt for a former exorcist meeting again a demon they fought with decades ago, now that the demon has the upper hand?

1) “You can’t be here.” They’d won. They’d locked the demon up for good, banished them beyond the point of return. They shouldn’t be there. The former exorcist’s ears rang. They scrambled back - not remotely prepared for this battle now. It had been hard enough the first time! 
“I heard you’ve retired,” the demon said. They moved closer, different vessel but those eyes the same. “I had to see that for myself.” They raised a hand, easily freezing the former exorcist to the spot as they examined them. “I can see why…” a smirk crossed their lips. “You’re not exactly what you used to be, are you? Poor thing.”
Their stomach flipped even as the truth of the comment burned. 
The demon dragged them closer across the floor, slow and casual. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised - you had to know this day would come. All good things to those who wait.”
“More like you know this is the only way you’d ever be able to beat me! Coward!


2) The hospital room was filled with the beep of monitors, the rasp of breath. The demon slipped in silently - looking down upon the withered and wrinkled form of their old enemy. They watched the former exorcists’ eyes widen with panic. The heart monitor went crazy.
The nurse bustled in, smiling and a little entranced. “The forms are all here. You’re going home, isn’t that nice?” 
“Don’t worry,” the demon murmured as they took the papers. “I’m going to take such good care of you.” 


3) “You’re better than this. Get up,” the demon snarled. “Stop acting weak, I know you. It’s not going to work. Fight me!” They’d been gearing for this rematch for decades, training and training and training and now - now this. 
The exorcist hit the ground easily, limbs shaking. A mess barely able to meet their eyes. 


4) “You’re dying,” the demon said. They watched the former exorcist quietly. “You’re dying, and when you do, there are going to be literal hell of monsters out for a delicious morsel of your soul. They’ll tear you to pieces.” 
The exorcist stared at their knees and tried to clamp down on the terror of that. 
“I could help you there,” the demon said softly. 
“Why would you?” The demon had no reason to help them. They had the upper hand, they had the exorcist entirely at their mercy after everything. They could do anything. 
“There’s only one person in the world who has ever defeated me. It’s worth something, to me.” 
“You don’t want to share my soul.” 
“Well,” the demon flashed them a sharp smile. “That too.”


5) “What’s this?” The demon looked delighted. “You need my help?” 
The former exorcist’s teeth gritted. They did, though. They desperately needed help. “Always nice to see you too,” they bit out. 


6) The demon stared at them out of their child’s eyes, flashing a sweet smile. 
“Go on,” they dared. “Exorcise me. That should be easy for you, right? I won’t even fight. Just exorcise me.” 
Except, they couldn’t. They couldn’t exorcise anyone or anything anymore. 

Angel

Shawn Mendes x Reader

Word count: 1,196

A/N: This one is for one of the greatest people on earth, @shawns-love , ily a lot. Shawn as a father…

Masterlist


Y/N’s P.O.V

Shawn has basically been pregnant with me during the last 4 months. He would wake me up in the middle of the night saying he was craving a cheeseburger and did I want one. I mean, obviously I did, but who’s the pregnant one here? Watching the excitement in his face as we set up the nursery and picked out clothes and toys and bedding was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s been looking forward to meeting our little baby since the very first day it was confirmed that I was pregnant. I love him for that. For always supporting, and loving, and caring for me.

All of these heartwarming thoughts are flooding my brain as I stare at Shawn pacing back and forth in the hospital room. “Shawn, baby, I’m fine. My contractions aren’t that close together yet. Have patience.” I say to a frantic Shawn, trying to calm him down a little. He just huffs and stands still, tapping his foot restlessly on the ground. “Shawn. Come here.” I reach out my hand as Shawn walks over to me, a defeated look on his face. “I’m sorry. Sorry,” he says, taking both of my hands in his, “I’m just so nervous and I want everything to go as perfectly as possible. And I just really love you so much and-” Shawn’s tangent is interrupted by the doctor finally entering the room with a warm smile on his face.

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You Understand, Right? (Part 10): You Don’t Understand

Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader

Length: 840+ words

TW: Nothing in this chapter!

A/N: I LOVE THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH. It’s another short chapter (I’m sorry ;;) but I really like how it turned out. 

Feedback is appreciated (AND SO ARE YOU)!

SERIES MASTERLIST


Dean couldn’t believe what was happening.

Y/N took the Colt.

He carefully followed her out of their motel room, and to the hallway. “Where are you going?” he demanded, making her freeze mid-step. She cradled the gun closer against her pounding chest. “Don’t make me ask again- Where are you going with the Colt?” He enunciated each word with a step forward, stopping just a feet behind her. Dean’s heart was beating against his ribs with every step he took closer to her. 

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anonymous asked:

TFP Megatron and Arcee headcanons?

( Melly’s Mod Notes: Eeeey my first Transformers Prime request! I’ll be doing only SFW headcanons for the two since it’s not specified if NSFW was desired. If you want, just shoot in another ask and I’ll get to work on that. )


MEGATRON

✦ Does the human want to know why they’re the constant target of attempted kidnappings? It’s because Megatron has a thing for them. Clearly that means the best solution to this is to get his servos on the human.

✦ What draws him to this organic, this little being whose entire lifespan will be a mere footnote compared to his? He isn’t sure and that’s what vexes him. Something about the human’s smile and the way their eyes light up whenever they laugh causes his vents to hitch and his spark to ache. It’s a weakness, they are a weakness. A weakness he’s willing to embrace. Provided he gets the human and keeps them to himself forever and ever.

✦ If Optimus becomes the guardian of the human since someone needs to look out for them, considering the attempts to capture them and all, expect the Decepticons’ efforts to get them to double. Megatron is a petty, jealous ‘con when it comes to Optimus and will not take well to the news of the Prime getting closer to his human.

✦ He confesses his feelings in the most overdramatic, villainous way possible. When a competent Decpeticon finally captures the human - Soundwave, most likely - Optimus leads the team in getting the human back. Megatron and Optimus duke it out and are generally yelling at each other, exchanging barbs before Megatron starts talking about how he’s lost so much to Optimus already, there’s no way he’ll allow him to take away his human.

✦ So the cat’s out of the bag and the human is out of the cage after Optimus is able to knock down Megatron long enough to get them and have them escape. Naturally the human is unsure of how to feel about this situation. Not every day you get a warlord to fall in love with you but they also have a warlord in love with them. Team Prime and the human are going to have a long chat about this when they finally escape and Megatron goes back to plotting.

ARCEE

✦ At first the human will think that Arcee doesn’t like them at all with how she’s aloof around them and doesn’t want to even speak with them. Every time they try to approach her for something, she waves them off or hands them over to Bumblebee or Smokescreen. (Sometimes literally. She. Just picks them up and hands them to a confused ‘bot as she walks to somewhere else. At least she’s very careful when handling them.) It worries the human a lot because… Did they do something wrong? They were only trying to help her out like polish her armour and get her energon and little things like that. Maybe she thought they were being condescending or something…?

✦ It’ll take Jack pulling the human aside to explain hahahaha no. That isn’t the case at all. Arcee likes them a lot but is scared of opening herself up again considering what happened to her last two partners. Hearing this will help strengthen to become closer with Arcee, now refusing to let her push them away. She gets frustrated by their efforts, at first, before they start to worm their way into their spark. She doesn’t realise it until one day she sees the human laughing with Raf and paling around with Miko and finds the sound of their laughter beautiful and their smile mesmerising and. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no she caught feelings.

✦ Confessing will have to be done on the human’s part and they need to be serious about it. No joking around, no attempts to pull ‘haha kidding and haha no for real I have feelings for you’ - They gotta show Arcee that they want to be with her despite their differences in a lot of things, that they’re willing to make this work because they love her and want to give her the world since her smile is one of the most dazzling things they’ve ever seen.

✦ Very protective after they officially become a couple. She doesn’t want her human to get hurt and she has Jack to watch out for. Will run herself ragged to protect both of them and it’ll take both humans to get her to not do that. Her human will do what they can to help her unwind and relax when she returns to the base after she’s been out on a mission. Which includes kissing her faceplates and cuddling sessions. Very important stuff.

✦ Loves to flirt and tease their human as their relationship strengthens and grows. Witty banter and a flirty back-and-forth is expected now, to the point Jack groans and leaves the room since the couple don’t seem interested in getting a room anytime soon but no one is really complaining about the change in relationship Arcee has with the human. If anything they’re happy for her. She starts to open up again, starts to loosen up again and Optimus can’t help but watch the lively conversation Arcee has with her human with a small smile on his faceplates. It’s been a long time since anyone has heard her genuinely laugh.

Imagine… Maggie and Kara can’t find Alex. The time is running out and Maggie is horrified. She’s been broken before in her life, but she is sure losing Alex will kill her. She fights with Kara about the plan to save her. A lot. Both of them very passionate about their feelings for Alex.

Maggie is sitting in Alex’s apartment, it’s late, lights are out, glass of scotch in her hand. She doesn’t even know how she ended up here, it’s like her feet brought her there on their own.

She’s not even capable of crying anymore. She’s exhausted, desperate and angry. She should be angry at people who took her, but she’s more angry at herself. Cos she is the one not able to help her. To find and save her. Maggie would give anything to get her back, to keep her alive, to hold her in her arms once again.

She pours herself another glass of scotch, looking bluntly over the apartment.

The place she kissed her, after realizing she has feelings for her. And there, when they spent the first night together, making coffee, being so happy.

Quiet sob escapes Maggie’s lungs. They fought. They fought pretty badly before she was taken. And the reason was basically Maggie’s stubbornness. She never said to her how much she loves her.

What if she never gets the opportunity to do so? Was the last words she ever said to her really the angry, sarcastic ‘of course you do’?

Quiet ‘swoosh’ sound interrupts her thoughts and even without looking back, she knows Kara just flew into the apartment.

It’s way past midnight, but she isn’t really surprised Kara is there. She needs to feel Alex as much as she does and this is the best place for it.

Maggie puts the glass on the table and slowly gets up, not saying anything. They haven’t talked after the big fight few hours before.

“I’m sorry,” almost a whisper resonates through the apartment, Maggie surprised at the words coming from Kara’s lips.

Maggie walks around the couch and stops in front of Kara in her Supergirl suit, looking into her eyes. A single tear falling down from her eye.

“No Kara, I’m sorry. You’ve been in Alex’s life for so much longer than me, it’s not my place to assume that-”

“Maggie,” Kara cuts her off, hearing her own voice trembling with emotions. “You make Alex so happy… she’s never been so happy I…. She needs you… I need you.”

Maggie swallows hard, nodding a little. “I love her,” she whispers. “And I haven’t-” her voice fails, ugly sob escaping her lungs.

She feels strong arms wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her into a heartfelt hug.

“I know,” Kara whispers, closing her own eyes, feeling tears falling down her cheeks.

“I haven’t told her,” Maggie is crying. She feels her legs melting into nothing, finally letting go of her restraint, letting her emotions and all the feelings out.

Kara holds her, literally supporting Maggie from falling to the ground. Kara feels exactly the same way. But she knows she must stay strong. There is still time and they will find her sister.

No matter the cost.

“We will find her Maggie,” Kara feels after a while, she can let go of her, so she does. She looks right into Maggie’s eyes.

Maggie is surprised by the severity of Kara’s expression.

“Now is time to cross every line we need to cross. We do it your way and we will save Alex. What do you need me to do?”

Maggie quietly nods. They are going to save Alex.

Together.

3

“How…What the…How did he…”

None of the Avengers know what to say. You’re not running around. You’re not singing at the top of your voice. You’re not dancing around the room. You’re not screaming for someone to go out with you. 

You’re…sitting quietly? Doing a jigsaw puzzle? And actually concentrating on it!

“Loki, what magic is this?”

“No magic, brother. It’s called ‘being firm’. When I told Y/N that, no, I would not be going dancing or roller-skating or any of the other ridiculous activities they proposed, they asked what we could do instead. Given the choice between sitting in silence - forcible silence, if necessary - or doing a jigsaw I crafted for them of an Asgardian landscape, the choice was obvious. I dare say Y/N is doing a marvellous job, too.”

“Can we get more of those puzzles?”

Spotlight || Bucky Barnes || Pt. 4

PART 3

Relationship: AU!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When your agent decides a publicity stunt is what you need, you’re fallen into the trap that is Bucky Barnes’ life. How long can you keep up with his attitude and antics or will he redeem himself before it’s too late?

Warnings: so angsty i wanted to throw myself off my roof ://

Word Count: 1843 words.

A/N: im so sorry for this angst but the next part will start to become more fluffy woop woop


You have no idea how much I hate myself for doing what I did to you.”

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