Dean, leaning heaviliy on his cane:
Who the hell was that?!
Do you have any idea what you got into? That was *dramatic pause* a Marquis of hell
A Marquis of hell. The offspring of an Archduke of hell and a Baron of hell. Knights of hell are their second cousins twice removed and they often roam the earth together with their best friends the counts of hell, not to confuse with the viscounts of hell...
Sam, adjusting his hearing aids:
No, I meant can you repeat that? I can’t hear you when your mumbling like that
I’m sitting in the mess hall, swirling my spoon through my bowl of frugnarf, when Kap’ka*click*ka (I call him Kap) sits down opposite me.
“Human Monique, greetings.”
“Greetings, Kap. What’s up?” My eyes are still on my bowl.
“I have a most pressing query for you.” He pauses dramatically during which I decide to look up at him. Meeting my gaze sternly, he says, “Are you injured?”
The question throws me. “What?”
“Injured, Human Monique! Are you injured?” The long flabs of skin along his neck flap with his agitation, and I know he’s actually being serious.
“No,” I say firmly. Then, more gently, “Why do you ask?”
Six eyes blink at me before one of his hands reaches to take my right hand, the one not holding the spoon. “You use only one of your fore-appendages. I feared you were concealing an injury,” he explains. “We *click*Ref*click*fer often do this when we wish to deceive others.”
It is in that instant that I understand. Kap’s species is entirely ambidextrous. All seven of their limbs can work apart from the others. The species even has an extra cortex in their brains to allow for this kind of dexterity. (I mean, seven limbs! That also isn’t counting their three legs.)
I smile at him and pull my hand away. “No, Kap. I’m fine. Really. I’m just a Lefty.”
“I’m left-handed. Most humans are either left- or right-hand-dominant. Lefties are less common.”
“You mean to tell me that your entire existence relies solely on one appendage to do everything?”
“Not everything,” I amend, enjoying watching his eyes bulge. “I mean, I type with both hands and I can eat with both hands, but things like writing or firing my rifle, I use my left.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“I’m dead serious! Sure, there are a few humans who are ambidextrous, and you can certainly learn how, but it’s hard work and, frankly, it’s a waste of time.”
“But what happens if your dominant, left hand is cut off by a prif’s pincers? What will you do? We don’t have the technology to replace your dominant, left hand, Human Monique!”
I grin up at him and switch my spoon from my left to my right. “Well, I guess I’ll be a Righty, then,” I say and take a bite.
this is a story about a sorcerer and a knight. well, a knight-in-training. they go by KiT, a nickname for their title, but a perfectly good name for anyone. kit’s a good squire, for the most part, but they have a knack for getting into trouble.
this time the trouble is they just fuckin decked another knight in the middle of the tavern.
“keep your hands off my friend,” kit tells the shocked personification of grossness, now sitting on his ass on the ground. kit’s pretty sure the message was already sent though the ass-kicking, but it doesn’t hurt to be thorough.
the man splutters for a minute before finding his tongue. “you— you— you piece of shit, you’ll pay for this. i have powerful friends.”
“bring it on,” kit retorts. they’re feeling pretty confident right now.
they’re feeling significantly less confident as two other men step up behind the first guy.
“outside,” the first growls.
“we’re zit and wedge, and we’re going to kick your ass,” the second one clarifies.
zit nods. “but we don’t want to make a mess of you on mal’s floor, since it was just scrubbed and all.”
kit glances at mal, who they rather thought was a friend, to find her nodding appreciatively. “brawlers these days are so polite. out you three go.”
kit wilts. “but… there’s just one of me.”
it’s around this time, when the two other guys are starting to crack their knuckles and look like they’re going to drag kit outside whether they like it or not, that someone else pushes their way through the small crowd that’s forming.
“’scuse me, pardon me. hello. what’s going on here?”
she’s got bright blue hair, of the kind that you get from mucking around with magic too much. everyone immediately reassesses the situation, and watches her warily. a sorcerer can quickly change the way a brawl plays out, if they feel like intervening. kit sincerely hopes she does.
“miss,” zit jumps in before kit can get a word in, “this young… person, here, just brutally attacked my poor friend, and me and wedge think we ought to be able to teach them a lesson in manners.”
the sorcerer studies him for a moment, as if considering his statement, and kit grabs their chance.
“pimple here is completely leaving out the fact that their friend wouldn’t leave my friend alone, after she asked him to go away twice!”
zit bristles, and looks to the sorcerer for her judgment.
she considers for while. “can anyone vouch for this knight’s statement?”
“i was the one getting hit on!” tea shouts from behind kit’s shoulder.
the sorcerer digests the witness’s statement. “hm. i’m inclined to see this as a case of self-defense, through the channel of someone who was not the self being hit on. i would suggest that all the parties involved accept the ruling of “he who gets their ass kicked probably deserves it”, and move on.”
“fat chance,” wedge growls. “the pack sticks together. we have to defend our leader.”
werewolves, kit sighs internally. it just figured.
there’s a dramatic pause, then the sorcerer says cooly, “you try it, and you’ll get your asses kicked too.”
zit and wedge eye her warily. kit eyes all three of them, which is hard with only two eyes.
“i reckon we could take a sorcerer,” wedge hypothesizes— an idea that would be quickly proven false in any laboratory experiment.
but this is a tavern, and the sorcerer has a delayed reaction, only raising her hands when zit charges at her. kit flinches back, sure she’s about to be crushed, but the next moment flames explode in the small space between the sorcerer and zit. there’s a yelp, and mad scrambling back from the sorcerer.
“i have nowhere to be until book club at midnight,” the sorcerer informs them calmly, her hands still out, palms up and ready to summon more flame. kit squints at them. “so i have plenty of time to teach you a lesson.”
apparently rescinding their hypothesis, all three werewolves make a mad dash for the door and disappear into the night.
the sorcerer smiles victoriously, and shakes her bright hair out of her face. kit squints at her scalp as she turns to them. “all good?”
“yes, thank you,” tea says, sounding impressed. “wow… a fire summoner. i didn’t know there were any teenagers powerful enough.”
kit has no other specific places to squint, so they just stare hard at the sorcerer’s face. “yeah… thanks. that was really cool.”
she waves their thanks off with one hand, a few strands of smoke issuing from her sleeves. “all in a day’s work. i’ll be off now.”
kit leaves tea with mal, though they frankly no longer trust her so much, and follows the sorcerer out the door. “hey, wait! you, blue hair magic person. what are you?”
“a masked vigilante,” she says, after a pause. “without the mask, because magic.”
kit blinks at that, before realizing she’s perfectly right. besides the definite ideas that she’s female and blue-haired, kit seems to forget what she looks like one moment to the next. kinda neat, honestly, though disconcerting.
they shake their head. “no, i mean… you’re not a sorcerer. i’ve seen people summon fire, and it comes from a loosely closed fist, not an open hand. also, your hair is dyed, not magically changed.”
she doesn’t answer for a moment, then looks stumped, and continues to not answer.
“well?” kit asks.
“fine,” she admits. “i’m a sorcerer in training, but the fake mask is about the most complicated magic i can do. the hair is so people will take me seriously when i do masked vigilante stuff.”
“and the fire?” kit persists.
after a moment, she shakes out her sleeve, sending a tiny purple dragon tumbling into her other hand. “my helper. my fire aid, if you will. you’re the first person to notice, you know?”
“just logic and being awesome,” kit says with a shrug, feeling pleased. neither are skills they get to show off a lot. they kinda feel like they’ve earned something for it. “hey, can i ask you a question?”
after a pause, the sorcerer in training says, “go for it.”
“why do you wait a second before responding to anything?”
their question is punctuated by a pause before she answers.
then the sorcerer motions kit closer, and tucks her hair behind her ears. the knight-in-training leans in, gaping. there’s a green dragon no longer than the length of one finger perched behind her ear, claws holding onto her piercings for balance. it unwedges one tiny wing to wave at them.
“what the fuck,” kit says, unable to find a reason for this from logic or being awesome.
“what the fuck,” the dragon repeats, pushing its snoot practically inside the sorcerer’s ear.
“this is peep,” she says. “my hearing is shit, so it helps me out. i call it my hearing aid.”
the draconian hearing aid preens under the knight-in-training’s stare.
This is it. This is what I’ve been missing. Some good old fashioned bad-guy butt-kicking. No fighting other good guys, no agonizing moral dilemmas… I’m feeling so good about this, I even pause for dramatic effect.
Holy hell, guys! I’m seriously blown away by the fact you actually enjoyed my first ‘Imagine’. Seeing as some of you liked it, I think i just might continue writing whatever ideas pop into my head ;)
Anonymous asked: Your Jeff imagine has me absolutely SHOOK! You’re so talented. Are you planning on writing a part 2?
Anonymous asked: YOUR JEFF IMAGINE WAS SO FUCKING PERFECT IM GRINNING LIKE A HYENA. OHMYGODDDDDDD and ik u said you aren’t taking request but like if you ever feel up to it if you made a part 2 to that imagine like the “date” part id forever kiss the ground you walk on lmfaooooo. But ya. You’re an amazing writer 😭
Imagine Jeff picking you up for your Valentine’s Day date. Dinner is not what you were assuming and you find out Jeff had a helping hand in finally opening up to you.
Jeff X Reader pt.II
Your knee bounces nervously as you wait for Jeff to pick you up and your mother watches you with a small knowing smile. "So who is this boy? Do I know him?“
You try hard to not roll your eyes. "Yes, mom. It’s Jeff,” you deadpan, but try with all your might to slow your beating heart. “Jeff from the eighth grade who I had a terrible crush on.”
A sharp, sudden inhale of breath has you looking towards your wide-eyed mother. When you were little, you used to tell her everything, but puberty changed things and you two didn’t quite talk as much. “Jeff.. Atkins!” She nearly squeals. “When- how?!”
“The other day,” you sigh and meet her gaze head on. “Tony and Clay were poking fun at me for turning down all the jocks asking me on a date, so I made it into a little challenge.”
Mom smirks as she takes a seat next to you, eager to hear more. “Go on.”
Summary: When Y/N turns a drunk Dean down, she regrets nothing seeing he never remembered what he said. But she finds herself in the same situation he was when she’s drugged up on medication for an injury. How will he react?
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: NSFW, swearing, talk of blood, injury, high of medication, fluff, smut
Word Count; 3,956
Could you do a fic where the reader initially turns dean down but is on meds for an injury & is all dopey & tells dean she loves him & tries to kiss him & he pushes her off so not to take advantage but he’s really happy & the next day she’s totally embarrassed & tells dean to forget it for the usual angsty reasons, but Sam tells her how excited dean was & then smut? Absolutely love all ur fics, you’re amazing! No pressure whatsoever to write this if u don’t like it or ur too busy etc. :) -Anonymous
A/N: This is my submission to @buckysmetallicstump Disney Quote Challenge. Mine was 20. Ladies don’t start fights, they finish them. This is not beta read as I just finished this today. I hope y’all enjoy feedback is welcomed as always!
Sitting in a booth in the back of the dive bar you watched Sam and Dean playing pool. Well it was more on the lines hustling pool rather than actually playing. They both had a beer in their hands as the watched the drunk bikers try to play. Sam had assured you that this would be their last round, but if they kept their winning streak up they would be there much longer. So until they were ready to go, you were going to sit back and drink your pina-colada until they were ready to go.
Minutes turned into another hour and you were getting pretty tired of waiting. While lost in your own world Dean snuck up behind you and grabbed both your shoulder. You immediately went reaching for the pistol hidden in your jacket, but stopped as soon as Dean sat across from you. His cheeks were flushed as he laughed taking another sip out of his beer.
Characters - Bucky Barnes, Reader, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson
Pairing - Bucky x Reader
Summary/Request- Yay! Could you write one with Bucky? He and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know how to tell the other. Maybe some commentary from the other Avengers? Little smut if you’re not opposed to it ;)
Word Count - 4,441
Warnings - Smut…Fingering, Unprotected sex… A little bit of language, little bit of angst..and of course some fluff (If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)
Working with the Avengers was a challenge to say the least. An enjoyable one, but still a challenge.
This was why Y/N had opted to keep her apartment in the city. So she could have a safe, familiar place to escape to when things got just too… heroically crazy.
It was rare that she would stay at the Tower over night, but Tony had a room set up for her anyway. When nights like last night came around, she was glad to have a bed to sleep in rather than having to crash on the couch.
Just like every morning, Bucky and Steve had gotten up before everyone else in the Tower and had gone for a run. When they got back, they were a little surprised to see everyone still asleep. Each went to their separate room, to shower and get ready for the day before finding their way back to the kitchen.
Steve and Bucky settled onto the island stools, the former man looking to the latter. “So,” he began.
They had been silent their entire run, but now Steve had Bucky in his clutches…
Writing is mine; gifs are not (not all of the gifs are cooperating and im sad about it so if you can’t see them, sorry)
You sighed contentedly as you sat in Slughorn’s Potions class, listening to Hermione Granger describe the sweet smelling potion, Amortentia, sitting in front of you. “It smells different to every person, depending on what they are most attracted to.” she was explaining.
“What do you smell?” you heard a familiar voice ask, and turned towards the captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team leaning towards you with a flirty glint in his eyes.
“And why would I tell you that, Atkins?” you teased.
“Oh, come on, I’ll tell you what I smell!” he answered. Leaning towards you, he lowered his voice to list his various scents. “I smell leather, freshly mowed grass, and something familiar that I can’t quite place."
You arched an eyebrow. "You don’t even know one of your smells?"
He laughed. "Oh, so you recognize all of yours?"
You took a deep breath, and decided to finally tell him. "Okay, mine are freshly brewed coffee, old books, and that cologne that your mom always sends you.” you whispered, staring at the table in front of you.
Jeff stayed silent for a minute, the most terrifying minute of my life. Finally, you heard him exhale. “I lied.” he muttered.
“What?” you asked, turning your gaze to him.
“I lied. I told you I didn’t know my third scent, but I do. It’s the way you always smell when you come back from holidays. Like the evergreens all around your house, in that forest you like to read in.” His cheeks were a bright red by the time he finished speaking, but you couldn’t hide the smile on your face. You went to reply, but he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, your heart fluttering.
“While that was all very romantic, Mr. Atkins and Miss (Y/L/N), could we please resume class now?” Slughorn asked as you and Jeff broke apart, cheeks burning with both happiness and embarrassment.
You spun around one last time in front of your dormitory’s mirror. The way your dress flowed around your ankles when you twirled made you feel like a princess. You’d never felt more beautiful than you did in the moment.
“Wow, (Y/N), you look incredible! Justin’s going to fall in love with you on the spot.” you best friend, Hannah Abbott, teased.
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you muttered, “Shut up, no he isn’t."
"Just wait, you’ll see.” she said, winking as she looped her arms through yours and you two exited the Hufflepuff common room.
The Great Hall was decorated beautifully for the Yule Ball– it was like a winter wonderland, complete with ice sculptures and Christmas trees all around.
“(Y/N)!” You turned your attention away from the decorations when you heard the familiar voice of the Slytherin boy headed your way.
“Hi, Justin.” you replied as he reached you. And man, did he look good. “You clean up nice.” you laughed, eying him up and down.
Laughing with you, he took a step back to admire your appearance. “God, you look absolutely stunning.” he said.
Music started playing around you, signaling the start of the first dance. You all watched and clapped politely as the champions and their dates began dancing, soon joined by teachers and other students.
“May I have this dance?” Justin offered his hand to you.
You grinned. “Of course."
After the feast and hours of dancing with Justin, you were exhausted. Dumbledore finally announced the last dance, and despite not wanting the night to end, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Even so, you were disappointed to see such a perfect night come to a close. One last waltz began and you allowed Justin to once again pull you close to his body. "You really are beautiful.” he whispered as he led you in the dance.
You blushed, your eyes glancing down the floor as a smile crept onto your face. Justin tilted your chin up gently so that he could look into your eyes. “(Y/N)?"
"Yes?” you prompted.
“Will you be my girlfriend?"
You couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across your face. "I would love nothing more.” His mouth formed into a grin to match yours before he leaned in to kiss you. This really was the perfect night.
“Miss (Y/L/N), please stay after class for a moment.” Professor Flitwick requested as you tried to leave his room. You sighed as you turned around, knowing what this was about. “(Y/N), I know you’re very smart and you do well in every other class, but I can tell you’re struggling with Charms. I’ve arranged for a fellow Ravenclaw to tutor you. He will meet you in this classroom at the end of lessons today."
"I have Quidditch practice today, sir.” you said, hoping to get out of this.
“Yes, you will be finished before dinner. Practice is not until after dinner. You must improve in Charms if you’d like to stay on the team.” he retorted.
You fought hard not to roll your eyes.
“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.” you said with a sigh, leaving the room.
After lessons that day, you went back to Flitwick’s classroom to meet your tutor. To your surprise, Clay Jensen was sitting at a desk when you walked in.
“Clay? You’re my tutor?” you asked.
“Seems like it. I didn’t know you needed a tutor, (Y/N)” he answered.
“I usually don’t, but Charms is my worst class.” you admitted.
He gave you a small smile, one that made your heart beat a little faster. “I can help with that.” he said softly.
Maybe this tutoring thing won’t be so bad.
After just two weeks of Clay’s help, your Charms work had improved significantly. You didn’t tell him this, though, because you secretly really enjoyed spending the time with him and you didn’t want it to end.
“Professor Flitwick says you’re doing much better in class, (Y/N).” Clay said as he walked into the room one day. “You’ll be able to play in the match Friday!"
You grinned. "All thanks to you.” you said with a wink, causing him to blush.
When the match came on Friday, Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff, largely due to you catching the snitch early. This win was huge; it put you in the Cup finals with Gryffindor. So, naturally, your House rushed onto the field when you won. All around you, people yelled congratulations and clapped you on the back, but it didn’t take you long to spot the one classmate you were looking for.
“Jensen!” you yelled, trying to make him hear you.
He pushed through the crowd to get to you, offering his congratulations when he reached you. Smiling, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Cheers erupted all around you, causing you to pull apart, laughing. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” You admitted.
Grinned, he planted his lips on yours once more.
“You did what?!” you yelled at your boyfriend, making every other Hufflepuff in the common room turn to look at you.
“Babe, calm down,” he mumbled, glancing around at everyone staring.
“I most certainly will not calm down! Why would you enter your name for the Triwizard Tournament? Are you trying to get yourself killed, or are you just stupid?” To those around you, your words and your tone seemed to radiate anger, but inside? All you could feel was paralyzing fear. All of your blood had turned cold the moment your idiot boyfriend had told you he’d entered his name.
“What, you think I can’t do it? You think I can’t win?” he challenged, losing all concern about your watching classmates.
“You didn’t even discuss this with me, Zach! Since when do you not tell me things? Did you do this on a whim?” you retorted. He fixed his glare on the floor and didn’t answer. You scoffed. “Wonderful. Great. How lovely that you’re going to get yourself killed on impulse.” You turned and stormed out of the common room, feeling as though you were going to be sick.
“And the Hogwarts Champion is….” As Dumbledore took a dramatic pause, you silently prayed for him to say Cedric. or Angelina. or any other name but Zach’s. “…Zach Dempsey of Hufflepuff!”
Your stomach dropped. The Great Hall erupted around you as your boyfriend rose from his seat farther down your House table. He wasn’t sitting next to you tonight; you hadn’t even spoken since your fight in the common room. He caught your eye as he walked forward, his usually loving gaze still full of love, but now mixed with other emotions: fear, pride, hurt. Hurt that you hadn’t believed in him. Hurt that you weren’t right there cheering him on with everyone else. Hurt that you two were still fighting.
Later that night, he approached you at your favorite chair in the common room. Your House was celebrating all around you, but your heart was broken at the thought of losing Zach. "Can we talk?“ he asked over the noise.
You nodded, allowing him to pull you out of your chair and into a hallway.
"I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” he muttered, pulling you against his chest.
You sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you, I’m just so scared.” you admitted, unable to stop the tears falling down your cheeks.
He nodded, placing a kiss on the top of your head as he wiped the tears away with his thumbs.
“Me too, babe."
"You know, the next Hogsmeade trip is on Valentine’s Day.” Alex said, sitting across the table from you at dinner one night.
“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” You were lying through your teeth, of course. You had noticed, and after the past couple of “dates” you and Alex had been on (mainly studying dates and the occasions walk around the lake), you were hoping he’d make it official there.
“Will you go with me? We could go to that little café thing all girls seem to love.” he suggested.
“You mean Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop?"
"Yeah, that one. Or somewhere else if you want, it’s up to you.” he said, cheeks tinged slightly red.
“I would love to, Alex.” you said with a small smile.
February 14th finally came a few days later, and after a bit of teasing from your friends, you went downstairs to meet Alex for your date.
“Hey beautiful, ready to go?” he said once you’d met him in the Great Hall. You smiled as he took your hand and led you down the path to the little village. The walk wasn’t terribly long, but it was cold, so Alex gave you his jacket, refusing to hear your protests. When you finally made it to the tea shop, you were both relieved by the warmth in the place. He bought you both hot chocolate before you sat together in a little booth.
You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as you let your hot chocolate warm you up. Looking around, you couldn’t help but notice how cozy all of the couples looked, as though they had no care in the world except for each other.
He finally broke the silence after a few minutes, your conversations ranging everywhere from classes to Quidditch to your home lives.
He glanced down at his watch some time later, and a surprised look crossed his face. “We have to be back at school in half an hour."
"We’ve been sitting here for 5 hours?” you asked, as startled as he looked. “Yeah, we should head back then!"
"Wait.” he said, as you two stood up to leave. “Before we go… Will you be my girlfriend? Like, officially?"
SPECIAL FEATURE ALERT: This is a reader-interactive fic, so in the box below, if you enter a name (yours or a character’s, for example), and click “submit”, it will swap out “Y/N” for that name. Y/L/N stands for “your last name.” None of the information entered is stored. This feature does not work on dashboard/feed/mobile app unfortunately.
You jerked awake at Jia’s voice and
sat up straight in your seat, wiping your mouth and smearing your lipstick in
the process. Jia sighed and rummaged through her bag for a lipstick tube, then
grabbed your disoriented face and applied a fresh coat for you. You weren’t
even surprised that she had your exact shade ready.
“Thanks,” you grinned when she
finished, and she shot you a disapproving look.
“You knew we had an important
meeting today, Y/N, and yet you only came back to the dorm at three in the
morning? This is getting ridiculous.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved away her
fretting. Jia was the leader of 7/11 and more of a mom to you than your own
mother. You winced at the thought and dropped your head on your crossed arms
resting on the mahogany table. Why, for the love of god, did Kevin have to
schedule these meetings at fucking six in the morning? What kind of hell spawn
was actually fully conscious at this hour?
On Jia’s other side sat the other
two members of your group, Lucy – the maknae, and Scarlett – the lead vocalist.
Scarlett’s real name was Sooyoung, but since SNSD already had a member with
that name, your Sooyoung had adopted this stage name.
The two of them were engrossed in
their phones, Jia was now organizing her purse, and you closed your eyes again,
regretting your life choices.
The office room that you were all in
was fancy, the kind of room you could imagine business negotiations taking
place, and the air-conditioning was such a relief from the heat of the outside
world that you were just beginning to drift off again when Kevin’s nasally
voice cut through your peace.
“Right this way, boys,” you heard
him say, and you groaned into your arm. Maybe later tonight you would do a
cover of Ain’t Not Rest for the Wicked
for your SoundCloud. Maybe tonight you would actually get some sleep like a
normal human. You buried your face and tried to shut out the world – and then
your eyes flew open when it hit you. His scent. American cologne and laundry