getting this under the limit was hell you would not believe

Standing Up From My Wheelchair in Public

I often bring up the ableist action of harassing/accusing ambulatory wheelchair users (as well as scooter, walker, crutches, and cane users) of “faking” because it’s something that happens ALL the time under the guise of “allyship” that people seem to WANT to remain oblivious to.

A person standing up from a wheelchair or standing without their mobility aid SHOULD NOT be cause for alarm, should not inspire accusations of faking, should not inspire you to say, “it’s a miracle!” in a mocking tone, or to ask me if I should “really be parked here”, or recommendations of weight loss so I won’t “need that chair anymore”, or whispering about how my karma is coming or how I’m going to hell for “playing with a wheelchair”; all comments I’ve received from strangers for just standing in public, getting my chair out of the trunk of my car on my own, or doing something as minimal as riding my chair while being young and smiling.

It’s prejudice; it lacks understanding to how diverse disability is, it uses a singular representation of wheelchair users to judge all wheelchair users. When people are called out on that ableism, those who do it will become defensive and claim to be acting in defense of disabled people because they truly deeply believe in the myth of a “faking disability epidemic", but hear this: non-apparent disabilities/invisible disablities, etc. are REAL disabilities and you are harassing the very people you are claiming to be advocating for.

For me, it is physically very difficult, painful, and risky to walk in the first place, the moments when I am able to, it takes alot of energy and concentration. Emotionally, it takes courage for me to get up from my chair in public; doing so causes anxiety that is parallel to what I would feel as a woman walking alone in the street at night. It’s a situation where I have come to EXPECT harassment and that is not okay. This is not how it should be, getting out of my chair in public should not have to feel like a radical act.

A person who gets up from their wheelchair might have limited ability to walk because they are rehabilitating, have dysautonomia, lung issues, heart issues, chronic pain, hypermobility, fragility of joints or muscles, fatigue, there are so many reasons for being an ambulatory wheelchair user and they come in all ages, sizes, colors, there is no one way, no one look.

1,050!
  1. We are hounds of God.
  2. He slammed on the breaks, his hand slamming across her chest to keep her from smashing forward
  3. This is Marcos, that’s Leo. Don’t trust anybody else in this place, and if you need something from outside, ask them.
  4. Turn your body when you punch, gives it more power.
  5. My apartment isn’t a storage facility, y’know…
  6. His idea of helping is to give you a passport and plane ticket, and tell you to stop bothering him
  7. You think so little of yourself  
  8. I don’t do secrets if they don’t benefit me anyway
  9. “What…? Are you going to jump?”
    “That’s the plan.”
  10. That’s the most sexual handshake I’ve ever seen
  11. You better watch that hand, boy.
  12. “It’s her own fault that she didn’t do anything of herself!”
    “No, it’s not her fault!”
  13. You have no idea how much you put her back.
  14. “I’m thinking of taking my old job back…”
    “Robbing people?”
    “What? No, man…”
  15. God, she’s gonna murder Chloe if she opens her mouth one more time to say something stupid
  16. I don’t care what you did, you understand? It’s not my business in anyway.
  17. Have you worked a day in your life?
  18. “No… Oh my God, tell me you didn’t…”
    “He won’t report it. The man has more warrants than I have family left.”
  19. Get a haircut you little monster.
  20. “Where you going?”
    “I have work. Meet me in library at 2?”
  21. “Are you gonna drink the whole bottle?”
    “Lost the cork, what else I’m supposed to do?”
  22. I had to threaten to kill over half of them for them to come here, but hey, nobody needs to know that
  23. “I’m sorry.”
    “No need to be, sweetheart. Are you still cold?”
  24. Their leader didn’t give much change to mistakes
  25. “Why do you say it like your pain doesn’t matter?”
    “Because at end of the day, somebody has suffered more than me.”
  26. “Are you drunk?”
    “Hardly ever.”
  27. “Why’s Marcus walking like that?”
    “He tried to do a cannonball to inch of snow.”
  28. I don’t know why I’m eating, I’m not even hungry
  29. Are you supposed to bring a present to a funeral?
  30. “How did you started working for Harry?”
    “I ran over him and he offered me a job. Easy.”
  31. Can you blow the candles next time you leave the room?
  32. Why does your voice sound like gravel?
  33. Would such a man pistol whip an eleven-year-old?
  34. You’re not even supposed to drink caffeine.
  35. Were you gonna stab me with a spoon?!
  36. This is wicked magic. It’ll bite your ass faster than you can ever imagine
  37. Is putting me behind bars not enough? You had chain me to a wall too?
  38. Keep him screaming, Nik. I want someone to call the cops
  39. The one time I need it to rain in Portland it doesn’t
  40. I wish to speak with you, my darling.
  41. “You’re gonna die alone!”
    “Everybody dies alone, you fool”
  42. why’s the woman yelling outside
  43. “Is this legal evidence?”
    “You and I have different meaning of legal, counselor”
  44. Did you manage to punch him before he got arrested?
  45. Let’s pretend we didn’t just break about sixteen laws in five seconds
  46. Any change that you can
  47. Oh shit, he’s a big fella, call Emma. I don’t wanna fight him.
  48. You want your kid back? Better confess to murder of that little girl or soon your son goes to fight a big men’s war in Uganda
  49. “Why are you sleeping on the back of the ambulance?”
    “Didn’t find any other place.”
  50. “What did you give to him?”
    “A illegal horse tranquilizer from China. Knocks you out in five minutes. I don’t know how he’s even standing anymore.”
  51. Hey fucker, my porch lights are not on! Fuck off!
  52. You managed to find a only gun store that doesn’t have Chicago’s 78 hour wait?
  53. “It’s not that easy”
    “Well it’s not that complicated either”
  54. I just inhaled chocolate cake. This is the best way to die
  55. I have to wear two sports bras to even think about exercising
  56. Where do you think I do at 2am? Taco bell, bitch
  57. I may not know your name but this won’t be your dying day
  58. The lady of modern day Edinburg pierced the knife through her heart and hoped the spell had worked
  59. That stupid grin on his face is almost enough of a reason to hit him
  60. “I read the police report, you know.”
    “Then you know what happened. So why are you bothering to talk to me?”
  61. Why aren’t they finding anything?
  62. God why the hell I’m so hungry? I haven’t done anything…
  63. “She has about four hours of air left.”
    “Who do you know?”
  64. “Why’s she’s screaming?”
    “Some kind of ritual. I think she’s a witch.”
  65. I got a headache for acting like I actually cared about his options
  66. “Why are you on my couch?”
    “I’m trying to come up with a plan to get your brother out of the trouble with Chinese mafia.”
    “Oh… Well you’re welcome to stay if you like.”
  67. I’ll call him. Let’s hope that he’s still in Barranquilla… And not in a ditch with cocaine blocking his nose.
  68. “He’s still looking for you.”
    “What does that mean? Are you in trouble?”
  69. “There’s dinner in the freezer.”
    “Ice cream is not dinner. But thanks.”
  70. Yes, I will break it, don’t let me touch it
  71. What was I supposed to think, you left giggling out of the room!
  72. I didn’t think I could fuck up so badly. I’m honestly quite amazed of myself.
  73. Don’t make the lie more complicated.
  74. “She had enough evidence to put him to jail for the rest of his life.”
    “Why didn’t she?”
    “I think part of her still believed in family that time.”
  75. I don’t wanna start begging, but I swear to God I will.
  76. How long have you waited to do that?
  77. Happy’s missing three teeth, Kevin has had his face purple for the past two weeks, and Rigg probably has lost half of his intelligence just hanging out with you guys!
  78. You can stop avoiding me, alright? I know what happened, so call me.
  79. I don’t know what your father taught you, but mine taught me how to take a beating.
  80. “You just let her walk out of the front door?!”
    “We didn’t know it was her!”
    “How the hell you didn’t know that! Her face is plastered all over the news!”
  81. “God, I don’t want to talk to you right now”
    “Well you have to. Does your shoulder hurt?”
  82. ”What the hell happened?! I though you promised not to lay a hand on him, no matter what he does!”
    ”Oh shut up. He started waving a knife around, I just made sure he didn’t poke his eye out.”
  83. I don’t know how she’s even moving after that.
  84. Don’t let me slam her face in, because I swear to God I will do it if she keeps talking
  85. “You want my jacket?”
    “This smells like weed, dude.”
    “It’s not my jacket so don’t blame me.”
  86. “Is this stolen?”
    “You want to see a receipt?”
  87. “What… Why are you checking your pulse?”
    “I just wanna make sure that I’m still alive.”
  88. I thought this was supposed to be one of those easy jobs!
  89. Don’t make it obvious that you’re an asshole, put your shirt on.
  90. You put on hell of a fight, I hope you know that.
  91. Do I get a list of rules when I go there or do I just have to be on my good side?
  92. They don’t look so happy… You think we should apologize?
  93. I don’t think you should eat something that has been in your apartment as long as that has.
  94. “Show me,” he whispered, starting to pull down the zipper of her hoodie. “It’s just a bruise…” She tried to push his hand away, but she was backed against the corner and the painkillers had stopped working, so even breathing was painful.
  95. You’re still replying my texts so it can’t be that bad
  96. “You’ve never been a man with few words.”
    “I only need few perfect words.”
    “And what are those?”
    “Marry me.”
  97. Looks like you’ve started finally to listen to me.
  98. I can feel the hair on my ass standing up
  99. I know all your dirty tricks… I know every step before you even take them
    .
    He’s my brother. I’ll always take his side before anybody else’s.
  100. When you decide to come in, there’s pepperoni pizza in the oven
  101. He seems to like avoiding you.
  102. It doesn’t matter how hurt she is, she’ll try to get up and fight. It’s her nature.
  103. I would have come to the wedding but the nurses threated to tie me down to the bed if I even try to rip off the tubes and stuff… but you know, congratulations.
  104. “Now you’re just being mean.”
    “I think the word you’re supposed to use is… a tease.”
  105. Are we just going ignore that the maniac just drank the whole bottle?
  106. She definitely has the balls to do it, no question about it
  107. I got concussion from a door. I ended up at ER, explaining that the door viciously slammed against my face, sounds great doesn’t it
  108. “How did you get mom here?”
    “I gave her two hundred bucks to stay the whole thing.”
    “What?!”
  109. If she starts to poke my chest again, I’ll walk out and leave you there to be tortured
  110. She grew up on lies. Either it was from her mother’s mouth or from the man who she always thought was her father.
  111. “Who long have we known each other?”
    “About fifteen years. Give or take. But that doesn’t mean I trust you.”
  112. Can you pull my shoulder back in?
  113. He’s going to kill you. He’s so going to kill for doing that to her.
  114. You used to be so much better at lying.
  115. Stay down! Don’t get up!
  116. “Do you believe in love with first sight?”
    “I don’t believe in love.”
  117. She had warned him and after he started pounding on Jon the third time, she didn’t think twice for making him bleed.
  118. Touch my brother and I’ll make sure that you won’t be able to move you hands an inch afterwards
  119. I know my limits. I know how much pain I can take before I pass out or can’t move. I know my body.
  120. “Nice underwear,” he pointed out with a smirk, expecting Alex to start pulling her shirt to cover herself, but she surprised him by pulling the top over her head. “Oh wow.”
  121. Are you asking for a permission? Because if so… I might just give you one.
  122. “People might just start to think you’re obsessed with me.”
    “Are expectin’ me to deny it?”
    “I might just have to start calling you my stalker then…”
  123. Prove me wrong then! Prove me that I can trust you, that you won’t fuck me over the second I drop my guard!
  124. “Can you stop sleeping in my bathtub?”
    “Why? Is so much better than the bed you made me sleep.”
  125. Do I need to tell you everything I love about you?
  126. Are you a predator or the prey?
  127. My mom found your bra in my freezer, why the fuck?
  128. I don’t remember if I ate today so… wanna go grab Thai or something?
  129. I told it was faster this way.
  130. I’m not great at driving when someone is trying to kill me!
  131. I’m gonna borrow your suitcase, mate! Your clothes are under the bed if you need them!
  132. This is not a taco. This is just disgusting.
  133. He pointed at me with a tattooed finger. “I’ll call you.” And then he was gone.
  134. “I thought you’d never drop down your guard.”
    “Consider yourself special.”
  135. You’re younger than me and you’re rocking in your rocking chair like old man
  136. “I don’t want fancy dinners or restaurants!”
    “Great, I’ll take you to the fanciest bar I’ve ever been in.”
  137. What was I supposed to do, huh? He punched me first, Bret!
  138. You’ll break your neck eventually by doing that
  139. You were literally falling while you were sleeping
  140. You used to have a longer hair than me, Phil!
  141. You look surprisingly angry while chewing gum
  142. We’re going to try push them back a bit, get Ricky to the truck!
  143. I think I might just kidnap you if you don’t get next week off.
  144. Fucking pew pew motherfucker
  145. My temper tends to land me in trouble more than often.
  146. You wanna know why she did it?
  147. She thought that maybe her nightmares would stop.
  148. You need to tell him. He deserves to know.
  149. “Brock? Where the hell are you going?”
    “Who the fuck does he think he is?!
  150. I learned at very young age that being quiet kept you alive
  151. I’m not that good with people who only disrespect me, I’m sure you understand.
  152. Of course I’m scared
  153. Her body was covered in mostly small scars and burns. The price of stupidity, her nana said. She didn’t care that much, the biggest burns on her back were mostly covered by tattoos, just like the whip scars on her abdomen and upper back.
  154. They should never put the crazy ones in the same room
  155. One thing he would never do was to stay down when somebody said so
  156. The look in his eyes was something raw and too familiar. She saw herself in him, and she hated that more than anything.
  157. They had been lucky that cops hadn’t looked in the back alley when they came to break up the bar fight. They would have had an easy arrest, the four who had started the whole fight inside were slumped in line against the brick wall of the next building.
  158. Kneeling before her were the men that didn’t believe in Gods. Her army.
  159. Just because his back is turned doesn’t mean he can’t hear you.
  160. This world is filled with more terrifying things than death
  161. You are meaningless. We all are. It’s our to change that.
  162. Don’t rely on happy endings
  163. It has been rumored for weeks.
  164. She’s a veteran in this business, she knows how to play.
  165. You’ve a have a gimmick of being a lost cause.
  166. I’d appreciate if you apologized in person
  167. Men starts wars, women end them. That’s just a fact.
  168. Every damn time I talk to you, I’m more convinced that you’re an actual alien
  169. You are just hurting yourself by doing that.
  170. Didn’t you two had enough already!?
  171. “She refused the help of the medics -”
    “And you just let her?!”
    “I didn’t think she could slip out, she couldn’t even walk by herself!”
  172. She hoisted her brother to his feet again, “You need to stop picking fights with them.”
  173. Goddammit, don’t just leave him laying there!
  174. So… this is how she spends her Fridays. Collecting debts for a mob. Nice.
  175. She decided that throwing a toaster at me was the best defense
  176. I mean she slapped him hard enough to break skin
  177. Keith! Stop shooting people in the living room!
  178. “What if I press the big red button? Will I start a war?”
    “That’d flush the toilet.”
  179. Don’t get him all fired up. I’m gonna be the one who has to calm him down afterwards
  180. You have two jobs in this family. To watch that Iain doesn’t do anything that lands him back to prison and that Shawn doesn’t disappear again.
  181. How did we ended up like this? Two against an army of thousands
  182. “Are you a coward?”
    “I’m a survivor.”
  183. Why are drinking milk out of my shot glasses?
  184. “Why is my boyfriend covered in blood?”
    “Why are you not asking him?”
    “Because he’s a lying asshole.”
  185. He cracked his gloved knuckles before knocking on her door
  186. God… stop with the undying love bullshit. Maybe there is some sort of love but nothing lost forever.
  187. “Do you even remember his name?”
    “I know it started with M, I think.”
  188. “I know you ain’t listening anything,” Johnny sat in front of her, tugging her other earbud off.
  189. With cigarette clenched between her lips, she wiped the coffee off her fingers to her ripped jeans
  190. “I don’t take no for answer, so…?”
    “That makes you sound like an asshole, you know that right?”
  191. He couldn’t help but to look at her through the mirror, she was trying her best to wipe off the eyeliner and mascara smeared on her face, she was a mess. But this woman was his mess.
  192. I don’t think it’s wise to look directly to their eyes
  193. Let’s play a game of stupid and a moron
  194. She laid on the hot concrete, blood dripping down her cheeks. Her temper had gotten her into a fight, was that a surprise in anyway?
  195. How far are you willing to go to convince that you’re alright?
  196. I don’t have a bra on, please don’t make me run.
  197. Can you stop smiling when people hurt you? It makes you look like a crazy maniac
  198. Allan lifted Sam with ease up to the table, tangling his fingers in her hair. “You are more stupid than I thought,” he whispered, running both of his hands through her hair.
  199. They watched the man carefully, like he was a time bomb ready to explode
  200. Wake up, kid. I need you to wake up, I can’t carry you if you don’t.
  201. She picked up a man twice her side. That’s power
  202. Didn’t anybody teach you not to taunt a trained MMA fighter
  203. “Your father wouldn’t want this.”
    “He probably doesn’t wanna be death either, so does it really it matter what he would have wanted from me?”
  204. “Are you lying?”
    “Through my teeth.”
  205. You wanna do this here or do we go somewhere were your friends can’t see me murder you?
  206. I’m not sure why you seemingly needed to share your weaknesses to me, but God… You made a huge mistake.
  207. I’m sure that this will backfire on me, but let’s pretend that we don’t know that already
  208. How the hell are you so pale? You live in Florida!
  209. I don’t think they should be here. They just manage to get into trouble.
  210. God that sounded better when I was rehearsing it.
  211. She wanted to forget the shit of a life she had
  212. Would it be such an immensely horrible thing if I just accidentally hit him?
  213. Past is supposed to stay in the past, especially her past.
  214. Just keep him angry. Please do that to me, I want to see him finally explode.
  215. “Pendejo!” Rosa shouted, slamming her hand flat against the table. “You have some serious problems!”
  216. Right information is very important in this line of work, son.
  217. “Fuuuck! We’re so damn late from his bullshit party!”
    “Oh shut up, we are only fashionable late.”
  218. Put your seat belt on. No? I ain’t driving anywhere before you do.
  219. Why the fuck did you bring your kid? I’m not babysitting!
  220. I think my hair is dying
  221. “Where are you?”
    “South of Houston, why?”
    “John left me to fucking Taco Bell, I need a ride.”
  222. My ass has feelings!
  223. If I found drugs on your brother’s room, can I keep it?
  224. Who the fuck put soy in my coffee?!
  225. That is the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever seen.
  226. “I’ve have a vivid imagination.” He purred in her ear.
    “Then you can survive few more days…” she whispered back, pushing him away.
  227. Shit, she’s quicker than I thought…
  228. Cut her loose, her hands are turning gray
  229. You keep avoiding the subject. It a simple question, and I just need an answer.
  230. Ricky had lost his legs in Iraq, but still every time the national anthem came on, he propped himself up a inch or two.
  231. I know you have a high tolerance of pain, but this is ridiculous!
  232. That woman is as crazy as they come.
  233. He hadn’t expected for Mia to lunge forward, every intention to break Seth’s arms. Joe managed to step between them before her fist would bash against the younger man’s face, he had to pick her up from the ground as she almost hit him to face. V
  234. “You can’t handle me,” she purred, her fingers sliding to inside his jacket pocket, with intentions to grab his wallet. Hank was only smiling, grabbing her by the wrist, “Maybe I don’t want to.”
  235. Vinny had told many lies in his life, and only about two out of every fifteen had some truth in them.
  236. She hadn’t even realized she was angry before Tyler wrapped his hand around her lower back, leaning down to ask if she was alright.
  237. Is he old enough to play paintball? Or maybe laser tag?
  238. Alan watched as she wiped the sweat off her face, eyeshadow and eyeliner wiping down to her cheeks. “You enjoy staring at me?”
  239. I don’t think I did anything wrong
  240. He hadn’t seen her smile in the two weeks he had been here, but now that she did, it was one of the prettiest things that he had seen.
  241. Wes had curled himself in the smallest ball that the 6 feet 5 man could
  242. “You’re naked.”
    “Good eye, darling.”
  243. He looked great in the tailored Dolce and Gabbana suit, shame that he would have to die in it
  244. Sometimes the worst decisions lead to best outcomes
  245. ”What counts as medical emergency?”
    “Your whole body is a medical emergency!”
  246. What were you expecting? She’s a kleptomaniac
  247. You can cut off her arms and legs, but she won’t stop.
  248. She had found a perfect place between the top of the lockers and the ceiling, it was great place to sleep.
  249. I think we might just be alright..
  250. She might just be your worst nightmare
  251. Sascha gave a grimacing smile before clearing his throat. “We will consider your offer.”
  252. She circled her hand over the small back of the eight-month old, whose face had turned bright shade of red from endless crying. “Kiddo…”
  253. “Were you trying to break his back?”
    “To be honest I was trying to get him off my ass.”
  254. Sid plucked the cigarette from Colby’s lips, dropping it to the half-full wineglass. “Keep taunting me…” she leaned down to whisper in his ear from behind, “And I’ll make sure that your tongue is cut off.”
  255. Bastian lived on the edge. Quite literally. He lived in rusty van on edge of a cliff, maybe hoping that someday the car would drop to the rocks and he would be inside
  256. Thank God for waterproof makeup….
  257. This is for everybody who never supported me. Because I didn’t need you in the end.
  258. She didn’t want to cry. It wasn’t any more about not wanting show weakness or pride. She just didn’t want to be sad anymore

Big shout out to @ofpoemsandprompts!​

Android Companion AU

Lucis is an advanced civilization, the crown city of Insomnia is self sustaining and generally safe, but the limited land with which to build on can barely fit the growing population. You are an independent adult who had landed a dream job in the heart of the city, your parents bid you farewell from their farmhouse just east of Lestallum, and now you are living alone in a very crowded, claustrophobic, and constantly noisy business district.

One day, you find an offer of comfort in your solitary life:

Model: NOCT-1.5 (limited number of units produced):

  • This model is the cutting-edge technology of all companions available in the market, the be-all end-all royalty of the trade. it is never advertised because very few people can afford it, but you’re a tech nerd and you’ve heard of the legends
  • It’s usually ridiculously expensive and waaaay out of your range, for some reason, this one is on sharp discount in your local computer shop
  • the clerk tells you it’s on a discount because it has been taken out of the box by a previous owner and returned, but is in top shape otherwise
  • it’s a small investment even after the price cut and you’re seriously trying to talk yourself out of it, but the more you look at the android behind the sheer plastic, the more you are entranced by the sharp features and slim design.
  • a part of you hungers to see what the eyes look like once turned on, and what kinds of apps and functions you can install on such a rare product
  • you take it home, and the moment you plug it- him in, bright piercing eyes glow red for three seconds, and then mellow out to a soft crystal blue

Keep reading

A Little Like Whiplash

(based on this, part two of this, Russian translations under the story itself) 



Jonathan isn’t generally a judgemental person. He likes to think that he sees the best in most people, even if they don’t deserve it.

For some reason, he’s never been able to do that with Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian bombshell that nobody knows or cares to know because he’s terrifying and has a tendency to be an asshole.

He has the distinct impression that Yuri, despite clearly not being a scholarship kid (he’s wearing designer everything, and he drives a Maserati; there’s no way that he came to Portland State for any reason other than that he wanted to), would rather be anywhere but here. He sleeps through the two classes that he shares with Jonathan, and for some reason, the professors allow it. If he was a bit less of an antisocial shit, though, Jonathan would probably have a crush; for all his faults, Yuri is one the most attractive person that he’s ever seen outside of magazines with his immaculately braided, waist-length hair and pouty lips and perfect eyeliner (Jonathan is sure he’s the only one that’s noticed that last bit; the subtlety of it is the reason it’s so damn perfect).

The first time he ever actually says anything, it’s one of those days that the professor decides, for whatever reason, not to show up for class. Until the fifteen minute limit passes, the class hums with a low buzz of noise. Yuri, predictably, is asleep.

Jonathan has a few friends in this class, Anthony and Thomas, and they’re chatting quietly about the baseball game on Saturday. Somehow, the topic shifts to that one asshole that’s always sleeping through class.

“Fifteen minutes!” The girl by the door calls out, and the class gets up.

“I’m just saying, why pay for the classes if you’re just gonna sleep through them?” Anthony says, shouldering his bag and heading for the door.

There’s a snort from behind them. Veronica. Jonathan really doesn’t want to deal with her right now; she’s even worse than Yuri, if only because she isn’t quiet about her disdain for the rest of them. “You know they only accept applications from people like him because he’s part of a minority, right?”

When she sees Jonathan’s raised eyebrows, she mistakes his irritation for curiosity. “Come on, don’t tell me you can’t tell. He’s a goddamn fairy.”

He’s wondering if outing himself here and now would make the situation better or worse when there’s an angry “Huh?” from behind them. The loud bang that follows terrifies all of them, but particularly Jonathan, Veronica, and the other two. Jonathan hadn’t even noticed that Yuri was awake, much less that he was nearby. Now his foot is against the wall, not even an inch from Veronica’s head (flexible, Jonathan can’t help but think). The look on his face pumps shards of ice through Jonathan’s veins.

“There is nothing wrong with being gay,” he growls.

His voice is different than Jonathan would have expected; maybe it’s a bit stereotypical, but he’d expected a low tenor, rather than a mezzo baritone, and his accent is there, but not nearly as thick as Jonathan expected. He stalks out of the room dangerously, and the entire class just stands there in shock for a moment.

Next week, when Veronica stops coming to class and he hears that she’s been expelled, Jonathan is sure that it has everything to do with the rich guy sleeping two seats behind him.

“Jonathan, there are only three people in your group for the upcoming term paper,” the professor says, jolting Jonathan out of his thoughts. It’s true; he, Anthony, and Thomas are planning on working together, since there were an odd number of people in the class. Now that Veronica is gone, that’s not true anymore. “I’m assigning Yuri to your group.”

Fantastic, Jonathan thinks, glancing at Yuri.

He looks up blearily and mutters something in the most snide, sarcastic voice Jonathan has ever heard– yoroshiku onegaishimasu –before dropping his head back on his arms. That didn’t sound like Russian, Jonathan thinks, packing up to leave.

Thomas nudges him. “Dude!” he whispers. “He speaks Japanese? What the hell? And I think that was supposed to be polite, but it sounded like an insult.”

“He can also hear you,” comes from behind them. Yuri has apparently given up on sleep since class is over, and has his phone in his hand. The one that isn’t texting reaches behind him and tugs on something that releases the bun he’s sporting today, letting the waist-length braid fall down his back. He leans his face in one hand and stares at his phone boredly. “You three aren’t the most oblivious people I know, but you’re definitely in the top twenty.”

Jonathan doesn’t know what to say, really. The hottest, laziest guy in class is in a group with him for a paper that’s worth twenty percent of their grade, and their first conversation has gotten off to the worst start possible.

“So,” Anthony says awkwardly. “When do you guys want to meet up?”

“I’m only free on Tuesdays. Yuri, I’m pretty sure you only have class twice a week? Maybe we can meet up for lunch,” Thomas says, trying a friendly approach.

“I can’t meet up on my days off. I have training. It’s a paper on the Japan’s involvement in World War II and how it affects today, right?” Yuri asks, still looking bored.

“Yeah. What do you mean? Do you practice all day on every one of your days off or something?” Anthony sounds mildly teasing, but there’s an undertone of disbelief there.

Yuri looks at Anthony, as if he can’t believe he would ask such a stupid question. “Um, yes? What else would I be doing?”

None of them really has a response for that. Yuri doesn’t look like the athletic type, really. He’s lean, almost willowy; not skinny by any means, since there’s definitely muscle there, but it’s not the build Jonathan would expect from an athlete who practices as much as Yuri claims to.

“Anyway, I’ll deal with the history part,” Yuri says, standing up and stretching. Jonathan tries not to stare at the thin strip of skin that appears when he does. What? He may be an asshole, but Yuri is gorgeous. He’d have to be dead not to notice. “I’ll have it to you by… Tuesday, right?”

“I can do Tuesday,” Jonathan says, not really sure what’s happening anymore.

“So can I.”

Yuri blinks and glances at the table searchingly. “Right,” he says, picking up a sticky note he’d left there and scribbling something down. “Here’s my number. Text me your emails and I’ll send you my part of the project. Bye.”

He walks out of the room, phone already at his ear. “Beka! Vy prikhodite na obed segodnya?

Jonathan looks at Anthony and Thomas, not totally sure what just happened. “So who’s going to pick up the slack on his part?”

That’s not actually necessary, it turns out. Jonathan sent Yuri his email out of courtesy, but when he rolls out of bed on Saturday morning, he finds four pages of 12 point Times New Roman font on Japan’s involvement in World War II, complete with instructions to let Yuri know if there’s anything else that they want him to do (but he won’t be doing the whole damn thing, he doesn’t have time for that).

Except for a few grammatical errors, there’s almost nothing wrong with the work. Jonathan is floored. Maybe this is why the professors let Yuri sleep through class. It’s disrespectful as all hell, but from the way he writes, it’s almost like he doesn’t need to be there at all.

When he’s awake and recovered enough to send a reply, he does. He lets Yuri that there’s nothing wrong with the work, and that he’s looking forward to class on Wednesday. He’s not, but it’s the polite thing to do.

Apparently, Yuri doesn’t planning on extending the same courtesy. “Can’t make it,” he says again, looking bored as he taps away on his phone.

This time, Jonathan actually speaks up. “We could meet up after you’re done with practice or something. It actually works out better for me and Anthony, since we have class on Tuesday.”

“That would work, I guess, but I’m going to be in Japan on Tuesday.” The tone of Yuri’s voice doesn’t change, despite the bomb he’s just dropped.

Why the hell would anyone just up and leave for Japan in the middle of the semester? No matter how rich Yuri is (and he’s definitely rich; they may not know anything about him, but he’s definitely a rich Russian of some sort) it makes no sense. He’s going to miss at least three days of class even if he’s only going to be in Japan for one day, which Jonathan highly doubts. He doesn’t care how pretty or smart this kid thinks he is, there’s no way for him to pass his classes with the way he acts.

“Then cancel it.” He doesn’t even realize that he’s saying the words until they’re out of his mouth, and by then it’s too late.

The look that Yuri fixes on him is as dangerous as it was that day with Veronica. “Fuck you.”

Jonathan backpedals. “I didn’t mean–”

Yuri’s phone rings, cutting him off. The ringtone in itself is enough to cause all three jaws to drop; it’s some classical thing with a boys’ choir singing in what sounds like Latin. Yuri sneers at them, and Jonathan can’t help but think he may have fucked up pretty bad. “Just send me whatever part you want me to handle for the presentation and I’ll do it. Tell me to cancel my trip again, and I won’t do my bit. I’ll still pass without this stupid project.”

He gets up and stalks toward the door, picking up the phone. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way to the parking lot now. Shit! Would it kill you to wait a minute and a half, Dad? I said I’ll be there in a minute! Katsudon, get your husband off the goddamn phone when he’s driving. Do you want to die?”

Yet again, there’s this feeling of not really knowing what’s happening by the time Yuri is out of sight. I’ll still pass without this stupid project, he said. That’s almost impossible, unless he has an A in the class. Which he shouldn’t, because he sleeps through it. His participation grade alone should have dropped him to a B unless he’s gotten A’s on every single assignment. There’s no way.

“I need a drink,” Jonathan mutters, and there are murmured agreements from Anthony and Thomas both. “You guys want to go to Shizuku?”

“I’m down.” Anthony says. “Hell, I’ll pay. My treat, after all of that bullshit.”

It’s not even ten minutes to their favorite restaurant by car, but they figure it’ll be easier to walk. There’s no point in driving three cars to get to one place, and none of them are keen on getting their cars out of the student lot right now, since it’s nearly rush hour.

It takes them about thirty minutes to get there, and it’s blessedly empty when they do. There are only a few occupied tables. Still, it seems louder than it usually does, Jonathan notices as they’re waiting to be seated. There’s one table in particular that seems to be making more noise than the rest of the restaurant combined. That makes sense, he thinks, eyeing the back of a silver-haired man’s head. There are a lot of them. At least six, it looks like.

Posmotrite na kotenke, Beka! Eto tak milo! Posmotrite na svoikh malen'kikh lapakh i khvoste.” That voice… it sounds way too happy to be him, but given how the day has gone, Jonathan wouldn’t be surprised.

The silver haired guy moves slightly. It looks like he leaned his face on his hand. “Yurio, don’t be rude. You and your friend aren’t the only people at this table, you know. Richard and Estephania are here too, and they don’t speak Russian.”

“It’s fine,” the person on silver haired’s left says. She has long, dark hair that swishes when she shakes her head. “It’s funny to see Yuri so excited about something for once.”

Jonathan gets a partial view of someone with dark hair and a very serious face. It’s almost scary how quickly he realises that he’s being looked at, and he looks Jonathan dead in the eye. The man nods once, then looks away without acknowledging him further.

“Beka? What are you looking at?” A head of blond hair comes into view, and Jonathan finds himself looking directly into the eyes of Yuri Plisetsky.

I fucked up, Jonathan thinks immediately, watching the mirth drain out of Yuri’s eyes almost instantly, replaced with irritation.

“Johnny? What is it– Oh, shit.” Anthony hides behind a menu.

“If you’re stalking me, I swear to god I will shove my silverware up your respective asses,” Yuri says, looking dead serious. “I have more than enough stalkers.”

That’s cause enough for Jonathan to pause and wonder what he means, but then the strangest thing happens. Instead of looking even remotely alarmed, the way any normal person would, the three people with their backs facing toward Jonathan, Anthony, and Thomas all turn at a totally normal, unhurried pace. Two of them, the silver haired man and the Asian looking man next to him, are even smiling.

“Hello!” the silver haired man says, waving. “Are you Yurio’s friends? Here, come sit with us! We’ve never met any of his friends from school before.”

Who the hell says something like that after hearing him call us stalkers? Jonathan thinks, feeling out of his element and way too overwhelmed. There’s really nothing to do but accept, so the three of them walk to the table as a group.

“Ya dumal, chto u vas ne bylo druzey v Amerike,” the serious man says to Yuri quietly, probably trying not to be heard.

Yuri looks murderous. “Ya ne.”

There’s a split second war between Thomas, Jonathan, and Anthony as to who is going to sit next to the scary serious guy. Jonathan loses. It’s fine. He’ll take scary serious guy over angry Yuri Plisetsky any day.

“My name is Otabek. Yuri is my best friend,” scary serious guy says, holding out a hand.

Jonathan takes it hesitantly, but Otabek’s grip isn’t anything but polite. “Jonathan. That’s Thomas, and that’s Anthony. We take American History with Yuri.”

“My name is Victor, and this is my husband Yuuri! Not your Yuri, we call him Yurio,” the silver haired man says. The Japanese man next to him blushes, and Jonathan supposes that he’s the other Yuuri.

“I will shove my knife shoes so far up your ass, Nikiforov, that you won’t be able to sit for a year,” Yuri warns.

“Yurio is our son. We’re so glad Yuri is actually making friends at school, I was worried for a while. I’m sure you know how tricky he can be sometimes,” Victor continues, ignoring the incredibly violent threat as if it happens every day. What the hell did Yuri even mean by knife shoes, anyway?

“You shut the fuck up, old man!”

It doesn’t surprise Jonathan in the slightest that Yuri has two dads; it explains a lot about the whole incident with Veronica earlier this year. What he is surprised about is the fact that Yuri’s dads seem so… nice.

Jonathan isn’t sure if that’s pleasant or terrifying.

“Victor and Yuuri are my figure skating coaches,” Yuri mutters, sounding like he’d rather be doing anything but this.

“Wait, you’re a figure skater?” Thomas asks, looking intrigued; seriously, how that guy manages to be so laid back all the time is– wait, what?

“Is that what you keep missing meetings to practice?” Jonathan asks. Suddenly it all makes sense: the lean muscle, the crazy flexibility and precision it would require to nearly kick someone in the head, the whole random flight to Japan.

The entire table erupts into laughter, even the Hispanic woman and the other man that they haven’t been introduced to yet.

Yuri turns bright red, looking both flustered and annoyed. “Oh, fuck off, all of you. Especially you, Katsudon! You have no right to laugh after what happened with these two.” He points aggressively at the two people Jonathan and the others don’t know.

The Japanese man, Yuuri, is the first one to manage to stop laughing. “I’m sorry, Yura. I’m laughing because I know how you feel.” He turns to Jonathan, Thomas, and Anthony, still smiling brightly. “He actually medalled at the Olympics last year. He’s won gold for Russia several times, as well.”

Jonathan isn’t the only person at the table with his jaw dropped. The waitress comes by and sets waters in front of the three of them. Even when she leaves, he still can’t figure out what he’s supposed to say. He’s pretty sure that earlier today, he just told an Olympian medalist to cancel a trip to what was probably a competition at the last minute. He wants to die of embarrassment, even if he had good reason.

“He probably didn’t mention it because he’s too angry that he let that Canadian get gold and he only got bronze,” Victor teases. He slings an arm around his husband. “Still, my son and my husband on the podium at the same time! It’s any man’s dream. I’m so proud!”

There’s a scraping noise on the table. When Jonathan looks down, he sees that Otabek slid over a phone with the screen open to a news article about men’s figure skating and yep, there’s Yuuri. And that’s definitely Yuri, but he looks… different. Happy. Jonathan looks from Otabek to Yuri to the article, then back to Otabek. He knows he’s panicking, because there’s nothing he can really say to make himself feel less awkward but maybe someone calm like Otabek can help him out.

Otabek gives him a thumbs up.




Translations (let me know if I need to fix any, I don’t speak Russian) 

yoroshiku onegaishimasu - Japanese - I look forward to working with you (yes, he’s being a sarcastic little shit here)

Vy prikhodite na obed segodnya? - Russian - roughly translates to “we’re still on for lunch today?”

Posmotrite na kotenke, Beka! Eto tak milo! Posmotrite na svoikh malen'kikh lapakh i khvoste. - Russian - Look at the kitten, Beka! It’s so cute! Look at its little paws and tail.

Ya dumal, chto u vas ne bylo druzey v Amerike - Russian - I thought you said you don’t have friends in America.

Ya ne. - Russian - I don’t.

anonymous asked:

nurseydex hc where dex finds nursey's poetry?

Dex was not raised in a barn. He has manners. He has respect. He has a general sense of right and wrong. He says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘excuse me.’ He gives up his seat on the bus for elderly people. He holds the door open for people behind him. He doesn’t steal or cheat, and he tries not to lie. And he knows it’s not okay to read someone’s work unless they want you to. He wasn’t one of the kids who always tried to read his classmates’ personal essays in class. He never pushes his friends to share the things they’re working on. Heck, he grew up living in the same room as his older brother, who definitely kept a journal under his mattress, and never even considered touching it.

So he knows Nursey’s poetry is off limits. It’s tempting, sure, to peek at the words Nursey spends hours and hours pouring over, scribbling down and scratching out and erasing and rewriting until his fingers cramp up. He doesn’t look, though. If Nursey wants to share his poetry with Dex he will. Dex doesn’t have the right to go snooping for it.

Keep reading

check yes juliet (4/?)

the people have spoken

now

don’ t ask me for an update until, like, another year has passed

please

Part one, part two, part four (part 1, part 2, part 3) (tag)

How much sleep he got turned out to be negligible in the long run: he really couldn’t be expected to focus anyway, because Marinette wore the Chat Noir hoodie to school the next day too.

And the next.

And the next.

In fact, she wore it every day throughout the next week.

Adrien got a crash course in ‘how to pretend you were paying attention when your crush is wearing a sweater with your signature all over it.’

He failed it miserably.

Keep reading

The Most Annoying Thing

Summary: Reader is having a rough day and is extremely annoyed with Dean. Naturally, this leads to angry sex.

Word Count: 4000ish

Warning: all the smut, angry sex, brief rimming

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy some Dean porn! Feedback always appreciated! XOXO

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

Keep reading

Redecoration.

Summary: You and your boyfriend have just moved in together, calling for an immediate shopping trip to update your apartment. 

A/N: This is an idea I got because I went to Target to get one thing and ended up spending like $200 on pretty stuff. Also, it kind of sucks, but it was a cute idea and I really wanted to write it. 

As usual, shoutout to @hamilbye for reading this when it was halfway done for me and telling me it was an adorable idea. 

Pairing: Lin x Reader 

Warnings: All fluff, all the time (would I ever write anything else?) 

Words: 2,381 (I can’t even try to keep my word count low. Sorry.) 


Maneuvering your car into a tight parking space had taken ten minutes. Finding the parking space had taken half an hour. From where you sat, it almost wasn’t worth it. But then you glanced at the smiling being sitting next to you in the car and grinned. Lin was a toddler, already straining against his seat belt, trying to wrestle himself out of the car and into the store. You reacted immediately when he placed a hand on the door handle, reaching your hand out to grab his wrist, your body leaning over the center console. You laughed before growing stern, the look on his face just barely contained the excitement.

Keep reading

Need a Ride, LMM/Reader

Prompt: Anything seems possible in the front seat of your beat up Chevy.

Words: 1,122

Author’s Note: So this is inspired by a real-life relationship I had with someone in high school (a lot of it is, you know, made up) but that’s basically the reason it’s so stupidly poetic. Also, this was so so so inspired by a midnight reading of @sunshinemiranda and @alexanderhamllton‘s collab ‘5 a.m.’ which immediately had me reaching for my laptop to write this fic, which took about 25 minutes from the bout of inspiration these amazing writers caused.

Warnings: The tiniest allusion to smut. Blink and you miss it.

Askbox | Masterlist


It was a well practiced and respected routine that everyone knew not to interrupt.

Following an after-school rehearsal or a late night performance, your little group often found its way to a local diner. They knew you well and had come to expect you whenever they caught word that another production was quickly approaching.

After you got your driver’s license at the start of Junior year - an entire month sooner than any of your other Junior friends - Lin started hitting you up for rides.

He made the excuse that he never needed a licence, he couldn’t afford a car and New York public transportation was cheap and easy.

But at 8pm on a school night, the warmth of your beat up Chevy was preferred over any bus or subway car he could name.

Keep reading

‘cause when you walked into the room just then

theatre au collab with @alrightpotter. here’s her part.

a/n: lucie, my love!!! happy birthday!!! i’d want to know you if you reached peak gay or became buffy summers dog or could only eat car tires. i love you badly. id probably give up weetbix for you. have the best day in the world.


Godric’s Post                                                                              8th February 2009

Film: The Wind In the Whomping Willows
Director: Bathilda Bagshot
Plot Summary: 4 friends go for a picnic. Boredom ensues.

I’ve never liked Bathilda Bagshot, and yes this may have been because of an incident at one of my parents’ house parties where she literally hissed at me when I reached for another baked potato, but the point still stands. She continues rely on prolonged dialogue scenes that don’t move the plot along and stretch to the point of absurdity, until the viewer is begging for a change in scene, shot, anything, only to presented with (unbelievably) yet more boredom.  

So put aside whatever resentment you’re harbouring that I just name dropped Bathilda Bagshot and that she used to come to my house, and wallow in how wasted my Friday night was watching this garbage. My personal highlight was the closing credits, because it meant I could at last be free from this endless hell of four people sitting in a wood, talking about sandwiches and grass for two hours straight.

Naturally I imagine some people enjoyed the film, (Bagshot does know her way around a camera, I’ll give her that, the cinematography was flawless.) however dear, cherished, hopefully-subscribed-and-not-reading-this-on-the-free-trial-reader, I must ask: who doesn’t like a little during movie commentary? Before Friday I would have said no one, but after Friday I would have to say no one, with the exception of uptight, haughty gingers.

Rather like Penelope Clearwater’s unfortunate character in The Wind in the Whomping Boredom, I too found myself being falsely accused of a crime I did not commit. In Clearwater’s case (she shines in the film, despite Bagshot’s insistence she be holding a mirror in every scene) it was of stealing the picnic sandwiches. Mine was the slightly more serious charge of ‘injuring’ a fellow reviewer.

I want it stated for the record that no such injury occurred, and that as far as I am aware popcorn is rarely classified as an assault weapon, but I am willing to hear argument on the matter. However I could be wrong because the reviewer in question seemed to genuinely enjoy the Wind In the Whomping Waste of Time, so maybe it wasn’t her eye that should be examined, but her brain.

In summary: this film has done the impossible and been even more tedious than Bagshot’s last effort, A History of the Snake Inside Me, which I didn’t think possible. My nine-year-old criticisms rarely stand up to scrutiny but I think my judgement of Ms Bagshot being The Worst has proven correct. Furthermore, I want it noted for no particular reason at all that if at any point I am contacted by a lawyer about paying medical bills for a non-existent injury, I will do something else ‘ridiculous’ and ‘childlike’ like toilet papering a Certain Reviwers house or broadcasting my witty and hilarious movie commentary over a loudspeaker during each and every film I will ever attend from this point on.

(the editor Remus J. Lupin wishes to clarify for legal reasons that comments above are aimed at no particular individual, all wishes views presented are the writer and the writers views alone, and to please not sue the paper)


Godric’s Post                                                                                  3rd March 2009

Film: 101 Fantastic Beasts
Director: Newt Scamander
Plot Summary: CGI animals have a good time. Audience have a good time.

Scamander has always had a talent for animation, even his questionable films like Beasts Which Are Fantastic If Only We Knew Where To Find Them (nonsensical, long-winded title) and The Porpentina Goldstein Story (thought it was going to be about hedgehogs. It was not.) should be seen purely for their onscreen beauty alone.

Thankfully, 101 Fantastic Beats wasn’t a repeat of the Hedgehog Incident but rather exactly what it says on the tin, 101 Fantastic Beasts romping around the city and having a jolly good time, until one of them dies and the entire world becomes a bleak hell-scape that you are desperate to escape because you can’t stop crying.

Unfortunately my screening experience of this charming film was somewhat hindered by the near constant stream of insults and accusations of ‘eye assault’ from a Certain Reviewer which culminated in said reviewer tipping popcorn that Was Not Hers across The Innocent Victims Lap.

The reviewers in question needn’t have ever spoken again but because a Certain Reviewer had slandered another Wholly Blameless Reviewer in her paper, which the Wholly Blameless Reviewer’s Mother reads, some things had to be sorted out. And those things were trying to get the Certain Reviewer to print a retraction so the Wholly Blameless Reviewers Mother would stop bloody going on about it.  

On top of this Wholly Blameless was mocked mercilessly for showing emotion during what ranks as one of the most heart-breaking scenes of all time, next to such movie moments as the ending of Dead Poets Society and the shooting of Bambi’s mother in Bambi. Obviously a Certain Reviewer needs to borrow a heart so she doesn’t have to poke fun at others for having what she does not: feelings. Wholly Blameless would be happy to lend her some of his, as he’s just good like that and not at all the ‘slice of expired a*shole’ he’d previously been accused of being.

101 Beasts has heart (unlike Certain Reviewer’s) and is appropriate for the whole family excluding twelve year olds, because obviously they’re terrible and you’d never want to take them anywhere anyway, so it’s a win-win.

(The editor wishes to clarify that the writers list of saddest movie moments is flawed because it has left off the Jack death scene from Titanic because the writer thinks ‘Cameron clearly emotionally manipulated the audience’ and ‘there was plenty of room for both of them on that door’ because the writer is an imbecile. The editor cannot believe he is the film critic.)


Godric’s Post                                                                                  11th April 2009

Film: The Cupboard Under The Stairs
Director: Gilderoy Lockhart
Summary: You really don’t want to know.

Gilderoy Lockhart has won two Oscars, and yet every time I watch one of his films I have to forcefully remind myself that it wasn’t shot by a nine-year old with a camcorder who uses their dog as a sound assistant. The dullness of the film will stun and bewilder all who see it, as it defies reason why such a thing should be made.

True Hairy Chins Shouldn’t Be Seen By The Public was wildly funny (despite meaning to be a serious documentary), but aside from that I can’t think of a Lockhart film I’ve ever enjoyed aside from classics like Gadding With Ghouls and Travels With Trolls which hardly look like Lockhart films at all, despite him having directed them.

Cupboard Under The Stairs is so mind-blowing ridiculous, from the wooden dialogue to the extended shots of director and star Lockhart doing mind-numbingly boring tasks while smiling garishly, that when I found myself sitting next to a Certain Reviewer I didn’t even bother to move but rather stayed if only to have something to do. A slight physical fight broke out, and by fight I mean a Certain Reviewer hit me for a comment I made about the twenty second long director credit, so obviously I pinched her, and then before I knew what was happening we had been thrown out.

I don’t want you to think, dear reader who has clicked on this review and therefore pays my rent, that I might have acted unprofessionally by getting thrown out a movie twenty minutes in. I want to clarify: I absolutely acted unprofessionally. There is no ‘might’ about it. But my point still stands: the film was garbage, and that fact that I could tell this from only the first twenty minutes is further evidence of its garbagery.

Now I know at this point you’re all clambering to hear more about the two hours I spent alone with a Certain Reviewer, as for some bizarre reason, you’re all incredibly interested in our relationship built off pure loathing and irritation. Well, prepare yourselves readers, because a Certain Reviewer’s favorite filmmaker is not only Wes Anderson (!! There should be a limit to the amount of pastel on a screen at one point). But she also hasn’t read the best novel of all time, The Great Gatsby, and then told me that that ‘wasn’t that weird’ and asked me to ‘close my mouth’ because ‘its been two minutes’ and its ‘getting weird’.

However she did earn points back by liking Star Wars (if she hadn’t, I may have committed a crime worse than Cupboard Under the Stairs’ acting) and she also noted that Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo + Juliet was her sexual awakening, and I to felt a deep attraction to DiCaprio and still do despite his insistence on growing a beard every few years. She laughed at this, but I think it was a laugh of agreement, so therefore it wasn’t bad.

Cupboard Under the Stairs was one of the worst atrocities committed to film, but a Certain Reviewer agreed that Han shooting first was an important part of his character, so all is not wrong with the world.


Text from James Potter to Sirius Black: do u think i look like leonardo dicaprio

Sirius Black: no

Sirius Black: is this bc evans said she liked him

James Potter: absolutely not


Text from James Potter to Remus Lupin: do i look like leo dicaprio

Remus Lupin: firstly, dont call him leo

Remus Lupin: and secondly, obvsly not

Remus Lupin: no two people have ever looked more different

James Potter: fuck u


Text from James Potter to Peter Pettigrew: do i look like leo dicaprio

Peter Pettigrew: no u look like u have a thing for evans

Peter Pettigrew: sirius told me to say that

Peter Pettigrew: whos evans

James Potter: do u not even read my fuckin column pete

Peter Pettigrew: it costs four pounds a week to subscribe to ur shitty paper i don’t have that kind of money


Godric’s Post                                                                                     3rd May 2009

RED CARPET WATCH

The Godric’s own Sirius Black, gossip columnist extraordinaire, was sent to the Red Carpet premiere of A Streetcar Named the Knightbus and reported back to us on all the hot gossip and glamour of the night.

In what may have been my favorite red-carpet to date, not in the least because Rita Skeeter was thrown out for badgering guests only ten minutes in, but because the greatest thing in the world happened. It was so great in fact, that I managed to look past the colossal injustice of me not being invited to walk the carpet myself, which was clearly a mistake (the editor Remus J Lupin would like to clarify it was not) and have a roaring good night.

May I just clarify that by roaring good night I mean I got absolutely plastered (The editor wishes to state that The Godric does not promote drinking) so the night comes back to me in bits, and from what I can remember everyone looked great. I can’t remember what the film was about, or even if they let me in (editor: they did not.) but even if it wasn’t I’m sure the film was good too. (editor: it was average)

But as I mentioned above, the best thing in the world happened, and that was that The Godric’s very own film critic James Potter got to walk the red carpet. He will tell you this is because his insightful and poignant columns are finally getting the attention they deserve. Any sane person would then loudly talk over him and say the real reason is because he’s become rapidly more popular with the introduction of a Miss Lily Evans, also a film critic, into his weekly reviews. Or, as James calls her, A Certain Reviewer. (editor: for legal reasons the editor must assert that A Certain Reviewer could be any individual and to please not sue the paper for defamation.)

Turns out Miss Evans had a popularity boost as well, because she was also on the red carpet, looking ravishing in a backless teal ballgown, and honestly, readers, it was a sight to see Evans in that dress. Potter obviously thought so to, as he spent the entire night staring. And not subtle staring. Obvious, in-awe, I-can’t-believe-a-person-can-look this-good, staring.

Now, once I’d gotten over the fact that not once in our ten-year friendship had James ever given me that look, I was absolutely thrilled. I had a thirty pound bet going that they’d be together by May and I’d just won, if that look was any indication. (the editor: it was twenty pounds.)

Furthermore, Evans and Potter spent the entire night talking, not even noticing how the cameras had utterly latched on to them despite having no idea who they were, purely based on the looks they were giving each other. It was a sight to behold, seeing two utterly oblivious people in formalwear hold a conversation probably about the merits of dressing gowns (they talk about weird stuff like that) while what felt like the entire world took photos.

Now I’m aware I’m meant to be discussing the gossip and glamour from the whole night and not just two D-list celebrities who happen to both be my friends. But consider this: I do not care. These photos are modern art. Both so clearly have a crush on each other it’s embarrassing. Even Moony would have to agree (the editor: I do.). Anyway, in summary of the night: I bet everyone reading this that they’ll be screwing in a month. Mark my words.

[image: a man in a suit and a woman in a dress, against a while backdrop with A Street Car Named the Knightbus film logo printed across it. Her head is turned towards him, laughing, holding a delicate purse. He is looking at her, mouth parted, like she is the first girl he has ever seen. Something to be looked at just to make sure she didn’t disappear, blown by the wind, like in a dream. A dream girl- except not. A real girl, in a real dress, in a real place. He can’t quite believe it. A hundred camera flashes go in the background.]


Text from Sirius Black to James Potter: so whens the wedding

James Potter: i fuckin hate u


Sirius Black renamed the group james’ got the hots for evans

James Potter: this is cyber bullying

James Potter: im calling netsafe

Remus Lupin renamed the group netsafe cant help the fact that ur in love with evans

James Potter renamed the group stop now

Sirius Black renamed the group not a chance mate


Sirius Black created the Facebook Page Lily Evans and James Potter should get it on

This page received 17,798 likes.


Text from Lily Evans to Sirius Black: im going to fucking maim u. take it down.

Sirius Black: sent a link

Lily Evans: if that’s a link to the fucking page i will cut your balls off

Sirius Black: its not

Sirius Black: on an unrelated note do not click on that link it is a virus I just remembered


Remus Lupin created the Facebook Page Lily Evans and James Potter should get it on part two because lily made us delete the last one

This page received: 21,104 likes.


(don’t forget to check out ellie’s part here)

Hustler (Criminal!Jeonghan)

Summary: Hustler Jeonghan is on a mission to steal something from you, but he has a slight dilemma.

Genre: Criminal!Jeonghan (ft. Gang!SVT), a little humor and greasiness 

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: I might make a Gang!SVT series, just tell me what you think about this! (also where are all the jeonghan in a suit gifs) 

Originally posted by spidermanm

Yoon Jeonghan, the guy with the angelic face, one that people wouldn’t even think to second guess. Yoon Jeonghan, the guy who could make girls, and even guys, fall for him. Yoon Jeonghan, a straight up hustler.

Jeonghan was a seasoned swindler, someone who had every trick up his sleeve. Ever since he was a teenager, he had been learning how to fool people to get something from them be it money, fame, or a house.

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Mine

Originally posted by protectbuckybarnesatallcosts

Mine

The training room was silent, excuse the small ‘Oomph’s’ and the laid back grunts of a man piling the weights, with the scribbling of paper and pencil, then yes, the training room would have been considered a ghost town, if not for those distinct sounds.

“Your doing perfect-” A frail girl stated, jogging little notes of the soldier’s mental and physical Helth, who sat under a pile of weights. Bucky had gotten a new bionic hand, but they wanted to test out its limits and bugs.

“Perfect enough to take you on a date-” The old man retorted, watching as she benumbed in place. This wasn’t the first time the assassin tried to score a date with his little personal nurse.

“James…” The young girl threatened, tucking her lose brown hair behind her small little ear. “-Don’t let me call Steve on you again-” She pouted, her glossy pink lips formed in annoyance after watching him wink her way, not even giving much heed to her lilliputian threat.

“There’s absolutely no need for that, Sweetheart.” He sat up strait carful not to smack his forehead in the pole of weights. “It’s not much askin’-” He stood up, his ruthless form and glory emitted from his core sending waves of confidence to the girl standing just beside him. Tucking a strand of chestnut lose locks of hair behind his ear, with his new metal arm. He instantly took note of her staring, a sudden interest with his metal plates, to be perfectly honest, he was even awakened in the new metal arm extension, it felt different and didn’t even come close to making him feel as powerful and miraculous as his old vibranium metal arm. So, to make matters worse, he clipped down all the plates in his arm to cause a chain of reaction, rippling a soft gasp from his prey. Smirking as She absentmindedly tried to reach out to the vibranium metal to softly glide her hand across the smooth surface to satisfy her needs. And like that, she was scared down to a mere mouse, the sudden shout of Sam Wilson shattered the silent atmosphere like an anarchy. Causing the bitty little girl to flinch back, as if being brought to reality and not her fantasies about the winter soldier.

“Do you mind explaining to me why you’ve all of a sudden decided to hide Red Wing?”

“Your toy?” The young man scoffed, now forgetting about the diminutive nurse he tried to win over just mere seconds prior to the Falcons conniption, “Pleas—I had never even touched that child’s play.” He ushered the air from one side to the other as if showing he had better things to do in his life then play with the ‘child’s’ toy Red Wing.

“And why would that be?” Sam wolfed, throwing his arms around like a silent ninja. “I distinctly recall that I found you quite interested in my Red Wing about a week ago when you asked how he worked-” He deadpanned, now coming in between the girl- Who he pushed quite aggressively to the side- only to get closer to the brunet of a man.

“That depends greatly on what you consider asking question about your little toy-” The assassin barked, his pointer finger accusingly jabbing Sam’s chest- to the point where Sam had to take a few unexpected steps back, pulverizing the nurse behind him- who in return stepped to the side to avert harms way.

“Then explain to me exactly what you meant.” His reply was just as nearly- if not even more force.

“I precisely remember asking you- and I quote, What is that thing?” Bucky retorted, shoving his foe to the side. Face rumpled in ache.

“That’s lingo for, 'I’m actually quite interested in knowing how this beautiful pice of machinery works-.’” Sam stated, raising his hand as if to call for a memory, while his other hand laid perfectly atop his heat.

“If you want to believe that, go for it; I won’t hurt your little boy ego. 'Cause apparently your damaged.” Bucky crossed his hands, tightening his black tank top around his sweaty body. His metal

Arm crunching from the force he was ejecting.

“I believe it’s the other way around, hotshot, your the damaged one. Hens why we’re even here.” Sam fought in an attempt to save what little respect the assassin had for him.

Bucky didn’t even budge, even if the statement was considered quite low for such a human, but at the heat of the moment Sam just wanted to see the man standing before him to show a bit of hurt in his baby blues, or flinch back in pain. Just to get something out of the argument from his side. After reviving nothing, not even a wasted gasp, Sam continued, “I am warning you that I will personally see to it that whatever little life you got left in you becomes miserable for you if you don’t give me back what you stole from me- Where is Red Wing?” Sam exploded, sucking in a deep breather with his winded response.

When the pair of men had took residence in Wakanda, it was quite evident that they were to not cross much paths. Or hell would break lose. Or so stated by Steve Rogers himself.

A scornful laugh emitted the stone faced soldier. “It already is miserable doubt you can make it an ounce bit more, and you’re not making things any better at your end, considering I can see a few white hairs peeking through. Although looking at you, sorta, makes me feel slightly better inside, just because.” Bucky pushed Sam aside and grabbed the girl’s upper arm, he wanted to end the fight before it got out of hand. Because if Sam continuities to assume that Bucky had broken and hidden Red Wing, he couldn’t promise his first won’t say hello to the Falcons face.

“Enough with the jokes. Give me back Red Wing- God your so annoying. I don’t even know how Steve putts up with you.”

With that said Bucky was already a few steps ahead of Sam, the inconsiderable girl being dragged by the taller boy, not even having much of a choice.

“…Now I’m definitely ignoring you.” Bucky whispered, while walking to the treadmills, “Although now I’m going to pretend you don’t exist, because unnecessary fights makes me angry. And I’m not suppose to be angry or I could- and would rip you to shreds.”

An irritated growl then filled the room, “Give me Red Wing!” At that loud outburst Steve had then entered the building. Watching as his best friend of childhood jogged down on the treadmill with his nurse beside him taking notes of his heart rate.

Captain America looked around the training room and heaved a long, embroidered gripe. Slumping his shoulders before waving a quite 'hi’ to his friends claimed nurse. Once acknowledged, he exited the room before being dragged down to their silly petty arguments.

Seeing as Bucky wasn’t making an attempt to answer his cry, Sam dragged his teeth together in hopes of letting out the pent up anger building up in his system or else he would be knocking the deadly assassin some common sense.

“Ooh, you’re gritting your teeth now?” Bucky faked a scared accent, clinching in horror all the while running. “Little Samantha angry? Did she not get her cherry on the ice cream?” Bucky cooed tying his hair in a bun all the while running down the treadmill.

“You’re not funny, you know.” Sam corrected, watching as the nurse held the bridge or her nose In between her thumb and index finger. Obviously irked from their pointless argument.

“Not trying to be.” Bucky counterfixed. Pressing done on the machine. He came to a slow stop, and once he came down from the machine, he looked down to his elfin nurse. “What’s next, Doll Face?” He grumbled, watching as the tiny girl hurriedly scribbled notes and pointed to weigh lifting.

“Already did that-”

“Not on the bench, just normal weight lifting.” She scurried off behind his long strides. Leaving Sam beside the treadmill section.

“I really don’t have time for this, just tell me where you hid it-”

“Why do you even need that, Red Wing thing?”

“Because Red wing helps me, plus he’s mine and I need him.”

“Sam go bug someone else who has time to play with a flying airplane toy.”

An annoyed silence filled the atmosphere, with the nurse shaking her head in nihilism of the two grown men fighting over something so trivial. The silence lasted for several minutes before it was broken yet again by Bucky himself. “Why haven’t you left yet?” His annoyed growl erupted from his shaking chest.

“You have something that belongs to me, that’s why!” Sam shouted standing beside the nurse, hip to hip.

“I’ve already told you I don’t know where it is- Go bother someone else.” Bucky repeated, having about enough weights for one day. The useless blithering the men were so engaged in had become a very bad distraction for Bucky, he couldn’t even finish his laps because little Sam wants his toy back, plus this new arm Extension just wasn’t cutting the job, if anything he feels bleary of having to constantly pick up the copious metal around.

“At this hour?” Sam asked, “No way anyone is even awake- and I won’t leave you until you return what you stole!”

“You finally grasped what time it is?” Bucky convulsed, holding onto the girls shoulder for support. Even if he didn’t want to admit it he felt pretty dizzy with the metal almost draining him down. “Good for little Samantha, did you know she knows how to read a clock.” Bucky Looked down at his personal nurse and fazed astonishment. “I already told you that I didn’t play with your toy- please now leave me alone to train.” Bucky growled, after gaining enough strength to push past Sam.

“Your so ugly.” Sam thundered, again, heat of the moment and just the fact he wants to see a reaction from Bucky had clouded his better judgment.

“Right back at you, sweetheart.” Bucky chuckled, turning to his nurse who was shaking her head. “What’s wrong with you, Doll?” He asked, ignoring Sam.

“That’s exactly why I will never-” The brunet had begun, but stopped mid way, “Never mind. Just get to push-ups.” She shook her head, brown locks waved down in a chain reaction. Bucky huffed before a light bulb had appeared atop his head. “Mind slitherin’ below me, so every time I do a good push up you could reward me with a nice lil’ ol’ kiss?” Her cheeks flared scarlet. Watching as he didn’t move an inch waiting for her to respond. But it had appeared to be just mild flirting in her eyes, never taking note of it more. Obtrusive at his fit posture and cheeky remark she pointed to the ground and then tapped her clip bored waiting for him to get a move on.

“James-”

“Alright, alright,” He assured, cutting her sentence half way through. Tucking a lose lock of hair he went about his mission. Before a foot to his back came dragging him down to the ground. He shot up with rage. Pushing Sam to the ground and tackling his body.

“You son of a bitch-”

“No need to bring my mom into this Samantha!” Bucky hollered, punching his friends cheek as if to grab what little honer he had for his mother.

“Then give me back my Red Wing!” Sam argued, shuffling around the matted ground earning a low blow to the assassins stomach. Which in return earned a deep growl, and a sudden shove to Sam’s family Jewels.

“Stop, stop both of you!” The girl tried to pry Bucky’s metal arm away from smacking some scenes into Sam’s head, only to have doubled the pain from her first too.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” And it all ended. She had just about enough of it. Their constant fights grabbing at her last bit of patins as if playing a game of tug of war. She growled in sleepy irritation, it is just dawn for goodness sake. She had to get up to get Bucky’s system data when he was fresh and stable, which proved to be futile to Sam’s sudden rage of Red Wings lose- and false accusation.

There was another long silence, both men stared her up, Sam’s fingers jammed in Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky’s hands grabbed at Sam’s ears. With Sam on top and Bucky straddled on the ground. The long silence was then broken only by the sound of a door opening.

“Give him back.” Sam argued instantly once the nurses gaze was faltered to the unexpected guest at the door.

“Oh come on, already. I’ve already told you that I didn’t do anything to your little airplane!” Bucky shouted, pushing Sam’s fingers out from his mouth and slamming a fist to his cheekbone.

“I don’t care what it takes, but before I go to out today, I’m getting Red Wing!” Sam argued the more, pushing Bucky to the ground.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Bucky cried, “I don’t have it!” He flipped Sam to the loam and choked him.

“Yes you do!”

“You do realize you’re fighting feather and brick here with me right?” Bucky questioned, watching as Sam tried to pry his metal arm away from his neck. “I’m Not breaking!”

“Says you. You’re arguing just as much as I am if not even more, where is Red Wing!”

“One, you started this little argument.” Bucky held his index finger and counted, still his metal arm wrapped around the Falcons neck “Two, I’m not going to give back something that I honestly didn’t even steal.” Bucky, held out another finger, “Three, just ask Steve if he’s seen it around.” Bucky unanticipatedly let go of his neck and stood up. Whatever ounce of dignity he had left, he decided on gathering, in hopes of whatever little show the nurse saw wasn’t going to ruin his chances with her.

“Dude, if you just give me my Red Wing, everything would be fine- But you and your man whore hands just had to fuck up something else.” Sam spoke, standing up and dusting his chest, watching as Bucky menace glare was sent Sam’s way. If looks could kill, Sam would have been nothing but relics.

“Really? You don’t say,” came the sarcastic reply. “Except your dumber then you actually look. I don’t have your cheap pice of plastic!” Bucky shouted, his chest raising and falling from the argument. Obviously the morning work out T'chella scheduled for him was long overdue. He was suppose be taken vitals of his system from fresh, without any distractions, in hopes of seeing how his body would react to the new construction of metal.

The door of the building had opened once again. “Honestly? Your both such kids!” The platinum man nearly roared in frustration. “Now drop the petty argument and get over yourself’s both of you! Bucky go back to your room and Sam, Red Wing isn’t in Bucky’s care.” Steve gazed around the room, falling on the nurse and T'chella watching as if a movie of drama was presented just before their eyes.

Slapdash footsteps carried the two arguing people out of the audiences earshot and eyesight, taking them down to the doors.

Steve stalked irritably out the door, the King of Wakanda also following suite, leaving the little girl to take off her jacket. “Your such kids,” She started. “Especially you, James Barnes.” Shaking her head in brickbat, she briskly walked back out the doors only to be calamitous enough to hear the argument had resumed just down the hall the two men had absolutely hated each others guts. The bickering continued on for the remainder of the early hours of dawn. Bucky barns and Sam, if only they can see past their differences, they would make quite the great friends.


A/N:

Enjoy more of my: masterlist

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Imagine: Dean gets upset when you try to ditch the boys when a demon is coming after you in order to protect them.

Warnings: angst, fluff (i think), mentions of blood
AN: Angel requested “No Pairing other than partner/friend/family–Angst!”, i hope I’ve delivered. You can read this however you like in terms of pairing.
Also, this is unbeta’d and whipped up in under 30mins, apologies for the quality.


“Dean, I’m sorry.” I tried again. It had been a week of apologizing non stop and Dean still hadn’t said a word to me since the demon’s death.
“Please, Dean, just…” I sighed, sliding down the door, pulling my knees into my chest, “Just talk to me.”

“YN’s gone.” Sam called, finding the note she’d left on her bed.
“What?” Dean barked, rounding the corner and ripping the note from Sam’s hand.
I’m sorry boys, but this one’s after me and I won’t have anything happen to either of you because of me. I’ll see you round, please don’t try find me, or hunt him down, or stop me…
This one’s on me. I’ll fix it.
“She’ll come back, Dean.” Sam muttered upon seeing his brother’s eyes begin to shine.
“We can trace her phone, summon Crowley and find this demon.” Dean growled, scrunching the paper in his hand and throwing it onto the bed, turning and storming toward the door.
“Sorry boys, can’t help with this one.” The familiar rasp sounded. Dean stopped short of the door and the King of Hell.
“You saying you can’t control your demons?” Dean snapped, his shoulders squaring off, nostrils flaring, growing an inch and towering over Crowley. The demon just shrugged and raised an eyebrow.
“This one’s rogue, has a vendetta against our Y/N. Trust me, I want him dead just as bad as you.” Crowley explained with a flick of his hand.
“You-” Dean was bristling, luckily Sam quickly stepped forward, catching Dean’s shoulder.
“You’ve found wayward demons in the past, Crowley, find this one.” Sam warned, the King of Hell disappeared and the boys hurried to the library.

“Boys?” She answered, panting and yet she sounded weary.
“YN, what the hell were you thinking?” Dean demanded, Sam held the phone between them as Dean roared the Impala well over the speed limit.
“Where are you?” Sam asked, Crowley had informed them of which city but not the specifics, insisting he didn’t know anything further.
“The only motel in Lubbock, Texas.” She answered, ignoring Dean’s question.
“We’ll be there in an hour.” Sam said, they waited for her to say something, the line, quiet for what seemed hours.
“I’m sorry.” She breathed before hanging up.

“What the hell happened?” Dean’s voice was deep and gravelly, his terror and anger roaring out of him in one sentence. Sam gave YN a said look, he’d been on the end of this line of questioning before, hell both boys had done exactly what she had, and yet they still couldn’t see the sense in it.
“I … I thought I was doing what was best for you both. I thought I was protecting you.” Her eyes flickered up from the floor to Dean and then back down. Dean shook his head and snorted, stomping out of the room.
“He’ll come around.” Sam assured, but he wasn’t certain. He hadn’t seen Dean this upset in years.
Sam watched as YN went back to pulling the scour over the blood stained, floor boards. Dipping her hand into the bucket of soapy, red, water and sloshing it back to the ground, scrubbing hard.
The boys had arrived as Crowley was leaving with the unobedient demon, both demon and YN had been bloodied and bruised, cut and grazed, but both alive, just.

I almost fell backwards as the door flung open from behind me. I caught myself and planted my feet under me, swiveling and standing in one.
“Dean, please, hear me out?” I begged as the willful Winchester stepped around me and headed down the corridor, turning his back on me, not noticing the tears beginning to form in my eyes, again.
“Dean!” I yelled. He paused, his head hung low as if he was tired of this, so was I and that’s probably why I said what I did, “You’ve left before, claiming it was better for Sam, better for Cass, for Mary, for Lisa, for anyone… but it was actually best for you.” I didn’t mean for my tone to be accusing, but it was, nor did I mean to continue, but I did, “You’ve left everyone behind at some point because it was too dangerous, or their lives were at threat, or they would be a burden… Dean I truly believed the Demon would kill me then turn on you and Sam. I was prepared to do a deal to save your lives. But when he came, I couldn’t do it…” I panted, I hadn’t realized I’d worked myself into a frenzy of emotions till now, but that’s the worst part of verbal diarrhea, you don’t choose when it stops, “I wanted to fight, I wanted to come back to you and Sam, I wanted to live. I chose you, Dean.” I spat, he was stock still, as if time had frozen around me and I was left to live out my days with statues. I watched him for a minute, his steady breath in the rise and fall of his shoulders was all that told me time was moving. He didn’t make a move, not one. I closed my eyes, letting the tears drip and slide down my cheeks, I sighed and opened my eyes, turning to leave. I wouldn’t leave the bunker again, that much was clear, I wouldn’t leave Dean, or Sam. I lived for those boys, that much was clear. But it was breaking my heart to watch Dean resent me and my actions, when all I was doing was something he’d taught me.
“YN.” His voice was soft but it tore through my thoughts, it was my turn to freeze. There was silence, I turned to see if he’d actually spoken or it was my mind giving me what I needed most.
Dean was facing me, his eyes focused on mine, boring through my skull and into my very soul.
“I thought I’d lost you.” His voice cracked and he struggled to swallow. He cleared his throat and tried again, taking a tentative step in my direction.
“I may have done all those things…” Dean took another step, “but,” another step, “I know better now. We work together. The three of us.” Dean looked down to take the last step, the step that would bring us within arms reach of each other, he looked back up, “Because you’re family.” There was a calm that passed in the air between us, an understanding. It was still and silent for minutes before either of us moved. I reached for him as he did for me, pulling each other into our arms, clutching at skin and molding together.
This was home, right here, Dean’s arms, his strength was mine, his words and feelings and thoughts… It all fell into place. I pulled my head back from where it was tucked, under his chin, against his neck, and looked into his eyes.
“Family.”

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Sheriff Stilinski: Father of the Year

Stiles and Derek have been dating on the downlow for a few months. Stiles is eighteen and all, but the thing they have going is so low key that it didn’t seem worth announcing. They hang out, and sometimes they kiss, and sometimes they cuddle, and sometimes Derek sucks Stiles off until Stiles literally sees stars–but it’s not any kind of great romance, nothing like the relationships they’re surrounded by.

They’re even tentatively planning to keep an open relationship when Stiles goes off to college in the fall (which Stiles claims is ridiculous, since his school is only an hour and a half away, totally within booty call limits).

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welcome home, soldier | tommy shelby

request: [reader] and Tommy met during the war through letters(she was his rock during the hardest times and he confided on her everything ,even the family job ). after the war is over ,Tommy is set on meeting her face to face, her brother died on the field and she’s struggling ,so they finally set a date and it’s all kinds of romantic.

“Here, Tommy”

He looked up, cig hanging from his mouth, half frozen hands stilling where they lay on his gun. He was bored to death and cleaning it for the third time today, sat in an alcove buried into the side of the trench.

“What is it, Frank?”

“Letter for you”

He scowled, holding his hand out for the paper.

“Already had mine today”

“It off my sister”

“What?”

Frank laughed, dropping into his own burrow opposite and scanning his own letter.

“She wanted to say thank you ‘to that Tommy guy’ for, and I quote ‘saving my absolute idiot of a brother from his own stupidity’. So…I think she misses me”

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Off Limits - part 2

→ Reader x Blind!Chanyeol

→ “I love you Chanyeol,”

→ Warnings: Curse words. Slight violence.

Word count: 2K


The next few days were awkward; you would spot Chanyeol and Baekhyun in the halls all the time, in almost every pause and every lunch period- it was as if the two of them had a sixth sense of where you were to be found at any time.

Baekhyun would glare at you as they passed you, and Chanyeol would understand who they were walking by as Baekhyun quieted besides him.

The very first day after the incident, they had walked past you and Baekhyun had shut up as he served you a nasty glare and Chanyeol had understood;

“Y/N? Is that you?” He had asked out into the air around him. Baekhyun had slapped his shoulder lightly in response, his eyes daring you to speak as he steered Chanyeol away from you, further down the hall. You had sighed, embarrassment settling into your body as the several pairs of eyes of the people witnessing it grazed your body in confusion. You had only shaken your head before hurrying away.

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Equilibrium (1)

Description: Ever since you were little, you had the power to control fire and had little understanding why you could. Two men enter your life and attempt to help you decide if you will use this power for good or for evil.

Word Count: 1,890

Warnings: Smut

Pairing: Kim Minseok x Reader // Kim Junmyeon x Reader (in later parts)

Author: Admin Xiufairy :D (first post yay!!)

Originally posted by minseoxual

You met him on August 12th, he came to you with a dark aura. However, that did little to intimidate you. You were more than that. Of course, at the time you believed he was human. You figured out the truth when you took him home with you.

His touch would’ve burned your skin if you were sensitive to heat. There was something about him that wasn’t affected by you like a human would’ve been. He may have been naturally drawn to the heat that just radiated from you, but as soon as he set foot into your apartment, you knew he wasn’t human.

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Jealous Kai

Imagine~ Kai gets jealous when he sees you at the grill with someone else. 

Word Count: 1174 


Laughs filled the air between you and the man sat in front of you. You’d met at a party a few nights ago and he seemed really nice so you invited him to hang out sometime, which he accepted. 

It was fun at first, you spent the time getting to know each other and telling each other about friends and family. But after a while you’d ran out of things to talk about leaving you both in an awkward silence. 

“Erm, how about we get some food?” you suggested, desperately trying to lighten the mood. 

“Actually I’m not that hungry.” he replied plainly. 

Could he not see what you were trying to do? He seemed so interesting, but guess not. 

You were unsure what to do to make this any less awkward, every attempt you’d made had been shut down. 

As your eyes traveled around the grill, doing anything in your power to avoid eye contact as he sat looking at his phone. 

But as you did you could feel eyes burning into your back, as if somebody was watching you. 

When you span around to see if your instincts were right, and when you did you saw none other than Kai Parker, a small smirk on his face but his eyes were different. 

They had a certain fire to them, it was as if his eyes were literally burning into you. 

Kai had always been hated by your friends and you’d only bumped into him a few times. But you were surprised he’d never hurt you considering you were one of the only humans the Mystic Falls gang cared for. 

“Hey Matt!” you called out to the blonde boy. “Can we have some tequila shots." 

You looked over to your date to see his full attention on his phone, you waved your hand in his face to get his attention which snapped his out of his trance. 

"Oh sorry.” he mumbled stuffing his phone into his pocket. 

You rolled your eyes, but he didn’t seem to notice as he glanced around the bar. 

“Here you go.” Matt said smiling as he set tequila shots down in front of the two of you. 

“Oh I don’t drink.” the boy said, frowning upon the alcohol in front of him. 

“More for me then.” you heard a voice say from behind you. 

You span around quickly to see Kai standing there, a grin spread from ear to ear. 

“Who the hell are you?” the guy said, clearly annoyed at his presence. 

“I’m Kai, nice to meet you too. You see me and Y/N have been a thing for a while now so I’m pretty sure she’s doing this to make me jealous.” Kai rambled on. “Anyways you can leave now, I’ll take it from here." 

"I’m done with this. Have fun with him Y/N.” he said angrily as he stormed out of the grill. 

“What the hell was that about?” you shouted at Kai as he replaced your date in front of you. 

“He was boring you, and he was texting another girl.” Kai replied plainly as he downed one of the shots of tequila. 

You rolled your eyes packing your things away, preparing to leave. 

“Wait.” Kai said as you felt his tight grasp on your wrist. “Have a drink with me." 

You looked over at him cocking an eyebrow at him. "Are you being serious?" 

"I just saved you from the most boring date of your life, at least stay and have a drink." 

You set your purse down, intrigued by his behavior. You wondered why you weren’t dead yet since that was what you believed he was like. 

"One drink.” you said as you sat down next to the siphoner. 

“One drink.” he said as he ushered Matt over. 

After he’d ordered both of your drinks, you decided to start a conversation. 

“So, why did you feel the need to save me from that date?” you questioned as you eyed the boy over. 

You couldn’t deny he was attractive, his chiseled jaw, blue eyes, perfect cheekbones and toned body. 

“You looked bored.” he replied plainly, looking over the counter to see Matt making your drinks. 

“No. That’s not it.” you replied smirking, pushing the sociopaths emotions. 

“You’re delusional if you think it’s anything else.” he said as he turned to you. 

“Why would you save a random girl who’s friends with people who hate you from a ‘boring date’?” you ask curiously. “Was somebody a bit jealous?" 

You poked his cheek lightly, giggling to yourself. You knew he most probably wasn’t but you found it fun pushing his limits. 

He turned to you, fire burning in his eyes. "Oo, hit a nerve?” you said sarcastically. 

Deep down you knew this was a bad idea, he could kill you in cold blood right there and then. But for some reason you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“I could kill you.” he replied coldly, the fire still burning in his eyes. “But you’re lucky I like you more that the others.”

“You mean like like.” you replied teasingly. “I mean what other reason would you have to disrupt my date?" 

You had no idea what you were doing, teasing somebody like Kai. He’s killed people before and nearly killed most of your friends. But something inside told you to keep going, to push his limits. So that’s exactly what you did. 

"And if I did.” he replied, a smirk plastered on his face. The fire that had filled his eyes was dying down and it was replaced with something else that you weren’t sure what it was. 

You felt your heart speed up as his eyes met yours. 

“T-Then I guess…” you choked, not sure what to say.  

“And if I do this.” he said cockily. 

You scrunched your eyebrows together, unsure what he meant. Before you could even process what he was doing his lips were pressed against yours. 

Shocked, you remained still before realizing what was happening. When you finally did you tangled your hands into his brown locks. 

His hands rested on your cheeks, his thumb resting beneath your eyes as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. 

You allowed him entry, completely oblivious to the room filled with people. Some of whom were appalled by your act of PDA. 

But the passion of the kiss overwhelmed you, so you didn’t pay any attention to them. Your mind focused and only focused on Kai. 

Your lips moved in sync with his, your tongues fighting for dominance. You hands were tangled in his hair tugging at certain points. 

After what felt like a lifetime you both pulled away for air as Kai scanned your face. 

“I guess I was jealous.” he said as he rubbed his thumb under your eye. 

“And that was a lot more interesting than my actual date.” you giggled.