he was in this for like six minutes total

2

Producer Jeff Bhasker faced a daunting task several months ago. After having worked with Kanye West and winning Grammy Awards for producing Mark Ronson’s “Uptown Funk,” and Fun.’s 2012 album “Some Nights,” he had to decide whether to take on a new project: the debut solo album of One Direction member Harry Styles.

“I’d just had a baby, and I was kind of like, ‘Eh, I don’t know if I’ll jump into this,‘” Bhasker tells Variety. He agreed to have Styles come over to “just talk,” and proceeded to put him through the Bhasker home sniff test. “My dog tends to bite people, and he was kind of scoping Harry out,” Bhasker explains. Styles “did this move — like a little shoot the gun with his finger, and my dog walked over and started licking his finger. That’s when I was, like, ‘This guy has something special.'”

Once music came into the mix, Bhasker was sold. “He started playing references of what he wanted to do, which sounded like a cool rock band. I got it, and could see where if we pulled this off, it would be one of the coolest things ever. But he needed a buddy who plays guitar like he’s Keith Richards.” The insinuation being: Styles is the Mick Jagger in this scenario.

Adds Bhasker: “I’m so proud of the album itself, and also of Harry for being so brave, and committing 100%, and writing the kind of vulnerable lyrics that he wrote, and not pandering to what people thought he would do. People have no idea that this is what Harry Styles is like. Just like I didn’t know. He’s obviously very famous and beloved, but people don’t know the depths of what an amazing personality and artist he is.”

Variety spoke with Bhasker about the recording of “Harry Styles” ahead of the album’s May 12 release: 

Keep reading

2

When we auditioned, it was a total cattle call, where they didn’t even tell us about the movie—we just went in and talked for a few minutes. Brian De Palma was looking for actors for Carrieand sitting next to him was George Lucas. Since Lucas didn’t speak the whole time, I thought he was De Palma’s assistant. I didn’t know what he looked like! So I did my thing, and a couple of weeks later, I went to my agent, and there were six or seven pages of audition material for me. By the time I got the part, I assumed that Harrison Ford was the lead, because he’s a traditional leading man. I thought I was going to be his sidekick, you know, like Captain America and Bucky.

Little Sister Quill P2

Avengers x Reader x Guardians Of The Galaxy

Prompt: You’re the sister of the famous Peter Quill…or Starlord as the galaxy knows him, anyways he finds out that you actually exist and what happened to you when you were young.

Requested by: A few people // @thebookgeeek 

Written By: mrs.stankfa - Anna

Reader: Female

Warning: Language

A/N: You’re about twenty-five
Also sorry because I wrote this at like three in the morning… (yes again)
========

Originally posted by darlingpanslove

“Oh! So you didn’t know.” You chuckle while turning around again. “Never mind bud, my mistake.”

“My mistake?!” Fury roars in anger. “Do you idiots know what you are setting for as an example for this organization?!”

“I didn’t start a war with my team, so I’m good.” You shrug.

“Oh, damn you savage.” Clint comments.

“That is a low blow,” Steve grumbles from his awkward position underneath you and the passed out Winter Soldier.

“It had to be said.” You mutter with a roll of your eyes.

“Agent Quill!” Fury yells, interrupting the small argument between you and the team.

“What?! It’s my hangover day! You promised you wouldn’t bother me on those days.” You whine.

“This has to do with case 107.” Fury shortly replies, causing you, Bucky, and Steve to shoot up.

“107?! BUCKY!” He screeches.

“I swear that I’m not back there!” Bucky yells, quickly you stand from the tangle of bodies and walk till you’re across from Fury and the group of misfits; your demeanor totally changing.

“Sir, I hope this isn’t like last time.” You comment.

“No, Agent Quill. Go change and meet me in the conference room.” He orders.

You look down at your sparkly dress that was very low cut before looking back up at him. “Yes, sir.”

Conference Room
Later

You swiftly walk into the conference room that Fury had told you to meet him at. It had taken you less than six minutes to change into a leather jacket, t-shirt, jeans, and combat boots. Your H/L H/C hair pulled back into a pony-tail.

It seemed less awkward when you walked into the room where the others that Fury had walked in with seven minutes earlier. They all abruptly stopped their conversation when you stepped into the room, leaving an eery silence until Fury decided to speak up.

“Y/N-”

“WOAH!” You interrupt while throwing your hands in the air. “Formalities? Am I going to die? Did those tests come back positive?! AM I PREGNANT?!”

“Agent!” Fury yells. “Stop.” 

“Alright.” You mutter while balancing on your toes. “So, why am I here? If it’s a 107…shouldn’t we get going?” 

“Why don’t we start with something else.” Fury offers, completely surprising you at how he was talking to you.

“Start with…what?” You question.

“We’re going to start like we did when I first brought you in.” Fury states while sitting down across from you.

“Oh.” You whisper as your face falls with all the memories that come crashing back into your mind.

“What’s the first thing you remember?” Fury demands.

“Fire.” You quickly answer, not missing a beat.

“Fire?” Fury questions, edging you to explain further.

“Fire. I woke up in a building, a building that was burning to the ground with me inside.’ You coldly reply.

“How old were you?” Fury demands.

“Seven or eight.” You shrug. “I don’t exactly remember because of the smoke.”

“Do you know how you got there?” Fury questions, you pause but slowly shake your head no.

“So, you don’t remember anything before that fire?” The only normal looking guy demands, you nod.

“Y/N, this is Peter. That’s Gamora, Drax, Rocket, and Groot.” Fury introduces after a few seconds of silence. “They’re here to talk to you about 107.”

“T-they are?” You stutter.

“I thought it was obvious.” Fury sarcastically replies.

“Well, it was but….it’s hard to believe with all the false alarms and all” You sheepishly mutter.

“Well, hi Y/N. I’m Peter Quill, and I’m your actual brother.”

Jet Lag and Chinese: Part 5

Prompt: As Clark Kent’s best friend and kind of sister you’re used to the strange. Still seeing him get cozy with Wonder Woman is more strange than you’re used to. So when the chance to cozy up to a billionaire playboy comes around, who are you to say no?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4


“I feel ridiculous.”

You smile, “You look ridiculous too. Smile.”  Bruce doesn’t, instead he scowls. It’s still a cute picture in your opinion. He’s dressed in a cowboy hat, jeans, boots, a vest and tie. It’s Clark’s pick for his country wedding. You send the picture to Alfred before putting away your phone.

“Why the hell am I doing this again?”

You smile, “Because you love me, and you know that this makes me happy, because I’m six months pregnant with your child, and if you don’t make me happy Alfred will end you?”

He stares at you for a minute, “You can only pull the pregnant card for three more months.”

You smile, “And then I get to pull the labor card.”

Bruce just let’s out a laugh before offering his arm to you. You take it, and walk through the grass to the main tent. You find Diana and Clark there, dancing and totally wrapped up in each other.

“Aww that’s sweet.”

He smiles at you, “Would you like to dance.”

You nod, “After I give birth and my ankles are no longer swollen.”

He laughs, and leads you over to your table. You take a seat and greet Ma and Pa Kent. Martha questions you about every aspect of your pregnancy, while John glares at Bruce. The lack of a ring on your finger had been a bit of contention among you and the family, and you and Bruce for that matter.

One passionate night had led to the conception of your little baby. And instead of finding out the usual way, it had been Clark who’d alerted you. You’d been in the middle of a family dinner, he’d just announced he and Diana were engaged, when he’d pulled you to the side and told you about the second heartbeat coming from you.

That had led to a panicked announcement to Bruce, and an even quicker proposal. You had turned him down. You loved him, and you knew he loved you, but you wanted to make sure that if you were getting married it was for the right reasons. A baby was not the right reason.

That little speech had led to a pouting John, and an ecstatic Martha and Diana. Diana was fascinated by your pregnancy, and had even accompanied you to several doctors appointments. As John and Bruce launch into another passive aggressive argument about the world, a hand lands on your shoulder.

You smile at Clark, and when he offers you his hand you take it.He leads you out onto the dance floor, and slow song comes on. After a few seconds of silence he says, “A lot has changed.”

You nod, “Yep. You’re married.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“You got a promotion at the paper.”

“You’ve moved to Gotham.”

You stare at each other for a second before you both grin. Smiling you ask, “We’re still best friends, right? Bruce and Diana don’t get that spot?”

He smiles, “Course not. And keeping with those spots, I vote to make jet lag and Chinese just our thing again.”

“Oh really?”

He nods, “Yep. We force them to stay out. And just movie marathon it.”

“What about the baby?”

“They can stay. As Godfather/ uncle I have to let them stay.”

You simply smile, “Good. Somethings shouldn’t change.”

Clark simply hugs you, and as you stand there surrounded by those you love, you can’t help but smile.

Huntress- Part Sixteen: Wayward Daughters

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E16 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five

Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve

Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen

Perched on the table, your legs swinging underneath you shared a bored look with Uncle Dean as he paced the room. Your Dad had his arms folded, but hadn’t given up yet. You knew Mick would come, he’d never turn his nose up at a meeting with the Winchesters- you could only dream.

“That’s it I’m waiting in the car-” Uncle Dean declared, readying himself to leave. Only, Dad stopped him. “Wait, come on-”

“No. Okay I didn’t sign up for this reporting for duty crap!”

“Just wait.” You sighed, not bothering to deal with any conflict.
“Sorry I’m late.” Mick’s voice made Uncle Dean turn round, shooting him a frown. “My report ran over. Everything’s been a bit hectic till uh…well,” he glanced down at the blood stain “Well. Best not to dwell.”
“Must be so hard for you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, enough. What’s the deal?” Dad silenced the argument before i escalated any further.

“Case in Wisconsin. Looked like an animal attack. The girl’s in the hospital, but her brother lost his heart. We recon it’s a werewolf.”
“That left a survivor?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe it got scared before it could finish the job?” Uncle Dean suggested. Mick shook his head doubtfully “Perhaps but it usually takes more than just a fright to put a werewolf off it’s meal.”
“The hell do you know that?” Uncle Dean scoffed.
“I studied them at Kendrick’s.”
“Kendrick’s?” Dad echoed.

“It’s where British Hunters train. Kinda like Hogwarts.” You explained.
“Cool.” 
“Not cool.” You countered.

“The case sounds easy enough.” Uncle Dean shrugged, ignoring any more points to be made.
“Then you won’t mind if I tag a long?” Mick tilted his head, aware he’d get some serious reactions out of that statement. You snorted, “Nice one, mate.”

“Mick, hunting isn’t really what you’re suited for…” Dad was trying to be a little more nicer about it than you had been. “There was a reason Mum never taught you.” You smirked- no doubt offending him in the process.

“I’m a fast learner.” He remarked “Our team were thinkers. We need to be ready for whatever happens next.

“One moment.” Uncle Dean threw his head back, gesturing for you and Dad to have a “talk” about it. When you were outside he rolled his eyes “No way this is happening.”
“Dean, these people have some serious knowledge.”
“I have that same knowledge, though!” You protested.
“Y/N’s right. Besides, you can’t learn this crap in a book. You put on a flannel, you pick up a gun and you go out there and you get good fast or you get dead faster.”
“He might come in handy.”
“What if he get’s himself killed?”
“I heard that.” Mick appeared at his side, making Uncle Dean back away a little from him: “Good.”


Unfortunately, Mick was in the back of the Impala next to you so you sat on one side, staring at your phone screen. To add to the excitement, Mick had one of his stupid podcasts playing. Sure, you liked interesting facts, but this was just torture. “Had to listen to one of his podcasts?” Uncle Dean frowned at his brother. Mick paused it, not wanting to miss anything.
“It’s educational. Besides, I’ve been wanting to listen to this one.” Dad sighed.
“And there I was beginning to think you weren’t so bad.” You rolled your eyes, getting a smile from your Uncle.

After they continued to argue over hunting, you took a headphone out and decided to see if it was worth getting into. “I’d take a handful of silver bullets any day over that crap!”
“That crap, meant that the last werewolf seen in England was in the 20s.” Mick sassed. You mimicked Mr K’s posh accent “The last serious werewolf case in the United Kingdom was in 1923. I can’t believe you listen to him.”
“Thank you for that, Ketch.” Mick rolled his eyes.
“Any time, Davis.” You sassed.

“Were they all evil?” Dad asked, going back to the werewolves.
“I’m sorry?” 
“Well not all werewolves are. We had a friend who was bitten, but he learnt to control it. Alongside lots of others.”
“Werewolf’s are natural born killers. Monster’s don’t just stop becoming monsters.”
“Mick-” You wanted to stop him, but he kept going.
“They live to kill!”
“Not everything’s in black and white you know.” You sighed.

Mick might have ignored you. Or perhaps he didn’t care: “Turn here.”


After flicking through endless lore books on all sorts of mythology, Dad, Uncle Dean and Mick arrived back from the hospital. They’d gone for more information, but it felt like they’d gone for a holiday at the speed they were taking things. They got in and began to explain what had happened.
“She wasn’t bitten?” You were surprised to hear that “You sure?”
“Positive.” Mick didn’t look at you when he spoke.
“So now what?”
“Well. You remember Jody?” Dad turned in his seat a little to face you.
“The Sheriff Hunter?”
“That’s her. She has two uh…adopted daughters. One of them, Claire Novak, is here working on the case. She’s gotta be about your age actually.”
“Novak?” You repeated it, you could have sworn you’d heard that name somewhere before. “Isn’t that…Cas’ vessel’s name?”
“Yeah…” Uncle Dean nodded “How did you know that?”
“He told me.” You shrugged.

Not that you’d admit it, you were excited to meet another Hunter your age. You just hoped she wasn’t a jerk…but, if Jody brought her up how bad could she be?

You sat down next to Dad on the sofa, Dean sitting the other side of you. Opposite was who must have been Claire. She had long blonde hair and the sort of eyes that changed from blue to green. She wore a jacket like yours, only it was green. She had the Hunter look for sure. Her head tilted and eyes furrowed in your direction “Who are you?” She asked. 

“Y/N.” You answered, not sure what else to say.
“Claire, this is my daughter.” Dad explained. Her eyes widened and she smiled a little “Daughter?”
“Sup.” You nodded.
“Your accent…British, right?”
“Which one?” You rolled your eyes.
“There’s more than one?” 
“Yeah-lots.” 
“Oh…sorry.”
You smiled “That’s cool.”

“You hunt?” She asked, obviously curious.
“Duh.” You smirked, making her smile.

“Beers all round.” Mick appeared, placing beers down on the table. “Who are you?” Claire was now even more confused.
“Mick Davis. British Men Of Letters.” Mick took her hand, shaking hers and his at the same time.
“Long story.” Dean sighed.
Long story.” You agreed.

You and Claire both reached for a beer when Dad and Uncle Dean stopped you. “No.” They both said, dragging the bottles away from your grasp. You both shared a look before sitting back.

“Either way. That alibi…massive lie.” Claire continued.
“Hayden’s Mom said the same thing.” Dad nodded. “Where was she?”
“Local dive bar. Eating trash…anyway she was on a date. But the guy was a total douche-bag. Motorcycle, weird-ass hair, snarky…grabby.”
“Grabby?” Uncle Dean echoed, he did not like the sound of that.
“I’m a big girl,” Claire assured him “I handled it.”

“Better call it a night.” Mick rose, having barely been seated for a minute.
“It’s 5:30.” You frowned.
“My reports due in at six sharp. Nice meeting you.”

You watched him go, becoming more and more suspicious but it was too ealy to say anything. “So…” Claire spoke up “Your foreign exchange student it totally lame.”
“Which one?” Uncle Dean joked. You hit his side, making him almost drop his beer. “Ow!”

Anyway,” Dad cleared his throat “Why aren’t you with Jody?”
“She’s busy with Sheriff stuff. Said to call if anything came up.”
‘Sheriff stuff’ sounded incredibly vague to you.


You watched in fascination as Claire dressed herself up to look twice her age. “Why do you keep staring at me?”
“How?” You asked in amazement.
“It’s so I pass as FBI. Why what do you usually do?”
“Wait in the car…” You admitted, realising how pathetic that sounded.
“That sucks.” She chuckled “Come here, I’ll show you.”


The Hospital was pretty big with endless corridors and hallways, but you found your way to the right room. Last night Hayden, who was in the hospital before, had died.”
“Any idea what happened to her?”
“The autopsy isn’t till tomorrow…it’s hard to tell. Perhaps a heart attack.”
“At her age?” You asked, well aware she was probably similar age to you.
“Well…yeah that’s what’s weird. Also, when we first found her she had gashes all along her arms. Now…” The Doctor pulled back the sheets to reveal her bare arms. There was no sign of any sort of wounds.

“Excuse me.” The Doctor left the room, leaving you all to ponder over the case.
“What the hell?” Claire started off with the same words that had been running through your mind since you’d arrived.
“What if she…turned?” Dad suggested.
“I guess that would explain how she healed…but then how did she die? And you said she wasn’t bitten.” You pointed at Mick who stuttered for words.
“Not that I saw.”

“None of this is making any sense.” Uncle Dean shook his head.

“But if she did turn then that means the werewolf wanted her turned.” Mick suggested. “So it’d have to be friends…family…”
“Someone from the bar.” Claire finished.

“Okay, Sam, you and Claire go talk to the girl she was supposed to be crashing with. Me and Mick’ll hit the bar. Y/N, pick a side.”
You rolled your eyes and followed on after your Dad.


Claire grabbed her headphones from the back of the car before putting her hand on the door handle. “Okay, so you wait here.” She ordered your Dad, making you chuckle.
“What?”
“You really think she’s gonna want to talk to some old skeezer…or us.” 
“She’s got a point, Dad.”You patted his shoulder before spelling aloud “B r b.”


After getting the information you needed from her friend you headed back out, only you paused in the doorway. “You coming?” Claire raised an eyebrow, turning round.
“I will be. Just need to uh…make a phone call.” You said, heading round the back.
“Okay.” 

You hovered over the caller ID before pressing “call”. It rang for quite some time, reaching the point where you almost didn’t think they were going to pick up.
“Y/N? What’re you doing?” He answered.
“You called me yesterday,” You began “Why do you keep calling me?”
“I can’t say it to your face..your Dad might overhear me and then that’ll just spark even more questions.”
“So what if he does hear you? All you do is say dumb stuff.” You sighed.
“I’m sorry. I should never have intruded on your family.” He sighed.
“You keep saying that. In every damn voice mail you’ve left.” You snapped. “I’m fed up. Just say it to me. It’s ridiculous! We see each other every other bloody day and you ignore me. But the moment you’re not near me you call up to say sorry for everything!” 
“You’re right…I’m not as brave as you.” 
“I swear to God the next time you call me I’m going find you and throw your phone off a cliff. Stop it. Stop leaving voicemails I never listen to and stop apologising. I don’t care anymore.”
“Y/N…”
“Mick. Grow up.”

You hung up. Fed up of Mick calling you. So what if he had things to say? If they were that important he’d say them to your face. He’d left those messages a few months back…he kept apologising and you’d had enough.
When you turned the corner you were greeted with the sight of Claire walking off in a huff from your Dad. Oh boy.
“What did you say?” You asked, looking impressed he’d managed to piss her off that quickly.
“Jody thinks she’s looking at colleges.” Dad sighed.
“And?” You shrugged, earning a shocked look.
“And?!”
“Yeah. If she wants to hunt she wants to hunt. She’s not stupid.”
“I know. It’s just not as simple as that.”
“It should be.” You sighed.

You were about to add to your point when you noticed he wasn’t fully convinced, but froze when a cry of pain erupted from the nearby woodlands. After worriedly glancing at your Dad, the pair of you leapt into action. 

You raced down towards the noise, fiddling with the inside of your jacket t grab your knife from the pocket. Only, when you reached the incident there was no obvious threat. “Claire!” Dad shouted, kneeling down beside her and clutching her close to him. She was still just coming out from an unconscious state, her eyes blinking into reality. You knelt down in front of her and examined her for wounds. Your eyes landed on her shoulder. The army-green jacket had a rip where the rims of the tear where dyed crimson. Blood was pouring from the scratch…no…bite

“Dad…” You managed, trying not to make it anymore painful for her. Dad glanced down to where you were looking and his face fell. “Oh God…”


“How long do I have?” Claire’s shaken voice filled the tense air.
“Sometimes it takes a full moon and sometimes it just takes time.” Dad answered.
“Can I help?” Mick asked.
“Stay out!” Uncle Dean snapped.
“I understand you’re angry-”
Dad didn’t let him finish “Listen. You killed a kid. We’re not angry we’re done!”
Mick turned his helpless eyes to you and you glared back “Don’t look at me I’m not helping you.” You spat, drawing your attention back to Claire. You sat down next to her and peeled the bandage back a little, examining her wound like you could help.

It had worsened considerably more since you’d last seen it. Now a deep red with swelling purples surrounding the teeth marks. You stuck it back over, patting her back gently. 
“Listen to me,” Uncle Dean knelt down in front of her and clasped hold of her hand. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but you can live with this.” He assured her.
Claire shook her head, “No…not me.”
“All you have to do is lock yourself up a couple nights a month. Other than that you’ll be just you.” He carried on, ignoring her protests.
“Dean listen to me!” She cried, making him stop “I can barely keep it together on a good day. I don’t want to hurt Jody…or Alex…I’d rather die.” 

You watched her eyes glisten with tears as she spoke, her hands shaking a little. You understood her completely, if you ever reached that a point in your life you know which route you’d take.

“Mick…there’s an experiment…it says here one out of nine subjects were cured.” Dad read over your shoulder.
“That experiment was on mice. It doesn’t work.” Mick sighed, but when he saw Uncle Dean’s stern glare he explained “We experimented with the blood of some werewolves.”
“You can reverse the early stages in rodents.” You piped up “Not humans.”
“How do you know?” Uncle Dean snapped, angry you were so against the idea.
“Because we tested on a human once.” Mick answered for you.
“And?” Dad pushed, his eyebrows raising expectantly.
“She died in agony.” You whispered, not looking anyone on the eye.

Claire hadn’t given up, it seemed: “Second time lucky?”
“No.” Uncle Dean stated “You don’t get a vote in this.”
“It’s my life.” Claire protested “I get all the votes.”
“Sam…Y/N…wanna back me up here?”
“It’s her life.” Dad agreed.
“Don’t, Claire.” You sided with Uncle Dean, not wanting Claire to die the same way the last one did.
She glared at you “Why should you get a say and not me?”
“Because I’ve seen what happens.” You argued, trying not to shout at her.
“That was one time.” She scoffed.
Please.” You were out of reasons “You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Okay….what do we need?” Uncle Dean changed his tune, having decided.
You stared at him in shock, feeling very much in a corner. Mick hesitated “Uh…blood from the werewolf that bit her.”
“Okay, me and Sam’ll go. Y/N, you stay here and make sure he doesn’t kill again.” Uncle Dean pointed at Mick.
You nodded reluctantly, you couldn’t believe they were actually going along with this. When the door closed you slumped back in the chair, lost for words and to tired to say anything if you knew what to say.

After a few minutes of silence Claire spoke up- “Why are you so against this idea?”
“Like I said, I’ve seen it happen. It didn’t end well. Not for anyone.” You sighed, sharing a worried glance with Mick. Then, you got angry. “Why did you tell them. If you’d have kept your stupid mouth shut none of this would have happened!” You shouted at him.
“I-I didn’t mean…”
“Shut up! I’m fed up with you and your-” Your rant was broken by Claire hissing of pain, she stumbled over some furniture as she tried to turn in the mirror to see her bite-mark.
You held your tongue, forcing yourself into silence so she didn’t feel anymore stressed. “This is your fault.” You murmured before helping Claire.

“It burns!” She managed through her deep breaths. The three of you watched as her wounds began to heal- she was beginning to turn.
“Claire, we need to tie you up so you don’t hurt anyone and so we don’t have to hurt you, okay?” You said calmly.

She ignored you and reached for the gun, Mick grabbed it in the nick of time and held it out in front of himself. “Please, you don’t understand.” Claire hissed through the pain “It’s happening. Give it to me!”
“No.” 
You froze. You didn’t know what to do anymore. Death by a bullet would be less painful than what was to come…but what if she was right? What if it did work? “Then you do it!” She begged. Her desperate eyes then fell on your gun in your pocket “Or you! If you want me dead so bad!”
“That’s not what I want…Mick put the gun down.” You ordered him.
“I know a man that would shoot you right now without second thought. Every instinct I have tells me to do the same…but my instincts haven’t been so grand of lately…” You listened curiously as Mick explained “So sit down. I’m not gonna shoot you.”
You offered your hand as she stumbled towards the sofa, helping her sit down. She didn’t let go.

“With any luck, when you wake up this will all be over.” Mick trid to reassure her as he put everything together ready to restrain her.
“If I wake up.” Claire corrected.

A loud crash tore your attention away from her as a man with a skull mask opened up the doors. “Stay back!” Mick shouted. He attempted to shoot the man with his pistol, but the man was much quicker. He dodged and slammed his fist into Mick’s head, making him unconscious. You and Claire shared a worried look, she smashed a vase onto his head, but it didn’t seem to phase him. You reached for your gun yet realised halfway that this must be a werewolf. Bullets meant nothing and you were out of silver. That hesitation was your mistake, a heavy object smashed into the side of your head and you were out cold.

“Claire!” A familiar shout dragged you into reality. “…Y/N!”
You felt two strong arms haul you up off the floor, forcing you to look into their eyes. “Dad..” You groaned, feeling the dried blood on the side of your head.
“What happened?” He asked, running a thumb over your wound. You winced but didn’t complain as he made sure you were okay “The wolf…I think he took her.”
“Three versus one and you couldn’t stop him!” Uncle Dean shouted. He wasn’t just angry at Mick but you as well. “Dean, come on. That’s not fair.”
You ignored your Uncle. “We need to find her.” You tried to ignore the pain on the side of your head as you dragged yourself up, not accepting the help from your Dad.

“I put a tracker in her pocket.” Mick said.
“You planted a bug on her?!” Dad shouted in disbelief, making you flinch a little.
“You can kill me after we find Claire.”


Ready for a fight, you charged into the building. Dad went straight for the werewolf, tackling him to the floor. You followed Uncle Dean to where Claire was tied up, only as he reached for the rope you grabbed onto his jacket and tugged him back. “She’s turned!” You warned over the timpani of clatters. She growled, her sharp teeth and bright eyes revealing how there was no more Claire.
Despite her reins she broke free and lunged at the pair of you. Immediately, Uncle Dean stepped out in front of you and threw her against the cabinets behind. “Sorry, kid.” He apologised.

A blur appeared in your peripheral vision and you ducked just in time, parrying to the left before kicking the wolf away from you. You then leapt over to where a gun, fully loaded with silver bullets, was lying. You reached for it in a panic, cocking it and aiming. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

The shot rang out, followed by the wolf collapsing in front of you. You watched as it fell to the floor, the needle still sticking out of it’s neck.
You handed Mick his gun back without bothering to look at him. He took it before kneeling down next to the werewolf, taking out the needle to extract the blood.

“Move.” You warned him, watching as Claire began to waken.
He side-stepped away, joining your Dad and Uncle. “Is that thing ready?” Uncle Dean barked.
“Ready.” Mick handed it to him, stepping away once more.
Just as she fully regained consciousness she lunged at Dad, who blocked, allowing Uncle Dean to inject the blood.
She hunched over in agony before staring upwards, her eyes somehow even more yellow than before. Somewhere between a scream and a growl erupted from her throat before she collapsed.


You couldn’t bare this any longer. Minutes, that felt more like years, of watching as Claire shook and cried out and shifted and screamed. You tore your eyes away.
This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

“I need some air.” Uncle Dean mumbled then left the room.

You held your head in your hands, not wanting to watch any longer.

Her cries grew louder as she adjusted her position in a constant cycle. She growled and hissed and cried. She whined and groaned and jolted. She twisted and shouted and…

She fell still.

You glanced up, Dad managed a quiet “Claire?” before raising his voice “Dean.”

Uncle Dean walked back in, he noticed your pale face, your Dad’s blank stare and the silence. His eyes fell on Claire’s still body and his heart sank.

A small murmur made you properly look up. You watched in amazement as her sharp claws retracted and her body stirred. Claire’s eyes, her eyes, opened slowly. “You guys look like crap.”


The drive back to the Bunker was silent on your part. You half listened as the brothers upfront bickered about nonsense and lightly argued over small-talk. You didn’t wear headphones.
Your eyes followed the scenery outside back and forth along the roadside, but your mind was elsewhere.

You barely noticed that you’d made it home until the slam of Uncle Dean’s door dragged you back to reality. “You coming, kid?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘no’ you wanted to say, thinking about curling up into a ball and falling asleep there and then just to prove a point: “…Yeah.”

Part 17: Power

Masterlist
I do not own these gifs

(Tag list after cut)

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If I were being totally blunt and honest, I had no interest really in listening to the record. I wasn’t even terribly curious about it. But I kept hearing from people… Well first of all he put out this epic single a little while back about six minutes long called ‘Sign of the Times’ which I thought, 'Gosh this sounds like Bowie crossed with Pink Floyd.’ I mean it’s absolutely the last sound you expect from this kid. And I was reading an interview that he gave with the New York Times… and he said you know once he finally stepped out on his own and got to do whatever he wanted, he said, 'I want to make a record that I would listen to and I grew up listening to The Rolling Stones and Pink Floyd and The Beatles.’ And you hear, as you heard on that song ['Carolina’], you hear the influences throughout this entire record. I think it’s pretty striking. He really does a great job with it. He’s only 23 years old, so I’m really looking forward to seeing where he goes with all of this. I’m just impressed that he was able to make such a left turn from everything that he knew leading up to this point.
Tips to Write Smut (aka sex)

Again, I posted something like this a while ago on my band blog - where I do actively write smut - but this one is new and revised! Please note: this only covers heterosexual smut, I’m sorry.

So for the (non-slash) fanfiction writers out there, here’s some more tips: (actually, some of these will work for slash as well)

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Sober - Part Six (UPDATED)

Angst/Slight bit of Fluff/ but mostly angst

Characters: Kwon Jiyong a.k.a G-Dragon (BigBang), Song Mino (WINNER) 

Part One Part Five Part Seven

Originally posted by peaceminus8ne

Originally posted by mvssmedia

“Mia!” Mino shouts my name in such a high note that I think that the glass of water in his hands will burst into shards.

I smile at him as he stumbles to get up from the armchair and run towards me. There’s an expression of fear and relief in his face, accompanied by his puffy cheeks which seem to be streaked with tears. I try to sit upright but he puts a hand on my chest and gently pushes me back down. He puts his hand behind my head and places it on the plastic covered pillow.

“What- how - why am I here?” I stammer through my words and looks at the small hospital room.

“Shhh,” Mino comfortingly pushing my bangs away from my face and plants a single kiss on my cheek. “You got into a little accident and got a concussion.”

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Jedi master Mark Hamill geeks out with Bill Hader

Interview Magazine Nov 9, 2017

From the time of the ancient Greeks, humanity has been fascinated by the struggle between good and evil, often led by an archetypal chosen one who blazes a path of glory by separating himself from the pack. As a young actor toiling between auditions, Mark Hamill’s moment of destiny came when he took a break from TV fare such as General Hospital to read for a role in a little sci-fi film helmed by a young director fresh off an Oscar-nominated hit called American Graffiti (1973). When Hamill was cast in the original 1977 Star Wars as Luke Skywalker, an orphaned farm boy growing up on a desert planet, no one—chief among them Hamill himself—knew that the film would become one of the most influential and profitable franchises ever made.

When the announcement came a few years back that Hamill would reprise his role as the Jedi Knight in J.J. Abrams’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015), along with his original co-stars Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher, fans went wild. But while Hamill’s screen time was relegated to a small appearance at the end of that film (Skywalker, in ascetic seclusion on a remote planet, is discovered by a young woman who exhibits strong signs of the Force), the second installment of the new trilogy, next month’s The Last Jedi, is squarely focused on Skywalker’s journey.

On a late September afternoon, the comedian, actor, and Saturday Night Live alum Bill Hader (who was a vocal consultant for the droid BB-8 in The Force Awakens) called up Hamill from the Sony lot in Los Angeles to geek out about that iconic galaxy far, far away.


MARK HAMILL: Hi, Bill!

BILL HADER: Hey, man!

HAMILL: I’m a big fan of yours. My kids tell me that you came to my house before you were on SNL.

HADER: Yes! I was a PA on Empire of Dreams, the documentary about the Star Wars movies, and I came over to pick up some pictures of you. I sat in your living room, and I believe it was your wife who brought down the pictures, and I was like, “Oh my god, Mark Hamill’s so rad.”

HAMILL: Was I not there?

HADER: You weren’t. I didn’t want to touch anything, and the whole time I kept apologizing for my existence.

HAMILL: Were any of my kids there? Nathan or Griffin or Chelsea?

HADER: No, but when I first moved to L.A. in 1999, Nathan and I ran in the same circle for a bit. I had a friend who had a massive crush on him. I remember once we had to go to this bowling thing because Nathan was going to be there. [sirens wail in the background] Sorry, I’m robbing a bank right now. Hold on.

HAMILL: [laughs] I saw your tauntaun and Jabba the Hutt impersonations on YouTube. It’s a talent of yours I had never seen. I like that you keep alive the legacy of some of the actors that I love, like Vincent Price. I’ll be talking to people your age and younger, and I’ll mention Lee Marvin [Hamill’s co-star in The Big Red One, 1980] and a lot of them will go, “Who’s Lee Marvin?”

HADER: Oh, my god.

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x files fic: under the stars (minimal fate required)

or: ways mulder and scully could’ve been happy

for @leiascully‘s challenge: list sort of

01.

The X-Files are never shut down and Scully is never abducted.

They fall into a comfortable rhythm of partnership: an incredible solve rate, an easy repertoire. (He never convinces her to believe in aliens, and she never convinces him not to.) They start spending time together outside of work - getting drinks, watching movies over long-abandoned paperwork. It’s at least two and a half years before Mulder realizes that she is his best friend. (Even over the Gunmen, he thinks about telling her, but how would that go down? They don’t say things like that to each other. She’s only ever called him Fox once, and he’s called her Dana a total of six times before she asked him to stop; what kind of friends are they?)

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Secret: Steve Harrington Imagine

Sorry if this sucks, its the first thing I’ve ever done on here

Summary: You are Nancy’s best friend and you are secretly seeing Steve after they broke up. (Nancy is with Jonathan at this point, this is set months into the future)


I spring awake to the sound of the phone ringing and try to wriggle out of the hold of the sleeping boy next to me. “Steve let go” I say while poking his cheek. He groans as he loosens his grip just in time for me to pick up the phone. “Y/N! WHY AREN’T YOU HERE YET?!” A voice yells through the phone. I rub my eyes as I look down at the watch Steve had on his wrist. “Shit Nance I’m so sorry I fell asleep and I must have lost track of time” I say through a yawn. “I’ll be right over just give me like twenty minutes.” “Sounds great. Oh and don’t forget your chemistry books” Nancy reminds me. I say goodbye and quickly hang up the phone. I shake Steve awake and explain the situation to the tired boy. “Do you really have to go?” He questions while I run around trying to find my notebook. “I’m sorry I totally forgot I promised Nancy that we would study tonight and I was supposed to be there at six thirty and it’s almost seven and I feel really bad about ditching you but I promised her and I just -” my rambling was suddenly cut off by Steve’s lips on mine. It took me by surprise but I didn’t complain. Steve was like that. Random and sweet. His hands rested on my hips as he pulled me towards his in attempt to deepen the kiss and make me stay with him longer. He sighs as I pull away and rest my hands on his chest. “I really am sorry Steve” I say not able to make eye contact. “Y/n. Stop apologizing. Nancy is your best friend I’m not letting you ditch her for me.” He say holding my hands in his. “Can I just ask you something?” I nod as he kissed my knuckles. “When are you going to tell her about us?” He says quietly, looking down at his socks. I shrug as I sigh. “I don’t know Steve, I know she’s with Jonathan now and that you two are friends but I can’t help feeling like I’m betraying her trust you know?” I say tilting Steve’s chin up to face me. “Besides Harrington, there’s nothing to tell. We’re not actually dating” I say smirking as Steve rolls his eyes playfully. “It’s not my fault you want to wait until you know that Nancy will be okay with it.” He says as he rests his forehead against mine. “Soon” I promise as I nudge his nose with mine. “I really have to go now but I’ll call you tomorrow and maybe we can hang out or something okay?” He agrees as we leave my house for me to go study with Nancy.


3 DAYS LATER 


  I’m sat at my usual lunch table with Nancy and Jonathan, chatting about our latest photography assignment. I try to join in to the conversation as much as possible but I can’t help but wish that Steve was sitting here next to me. As if he heard my thoughts he came striding over to our little table in the corner. “Hey guys” He exclaims as he’s greeted with hi’s from all of us. “What brings you over here Steve?” Nancy asks the boy standing behind me. “Oh no reason really I just wanted to see how you just were doing.” He says casually. He continues to chat with us while he leans his hands onto my chair and the empty on next to me. Nobody notices but he’s gently rubbing my back with his knuckles. “You should come sit with us sometime Steve” Jonathan suggests as Nancy nods her head. “Yeah I definitely will sometime.” He smiles. “I’ve got to run but I’ll see you guys later”. As he is about to turn he places a warm hand on my back and walks away. “You okay y/n? You’re really quiet today” Nancy says sounding worried. “I’m great, just a little tired that’s all” I say with a small smile. 


LATER THAT DAY 


The final bell has just rung as I stood from my seat and headed to my locker. As I opened it, a small, ripped piece of paper fell from it. The note read “Meet me in the darkroom after the bell”. I smiled knowing exactly who it was from. I made my way to the darkroom and quietly entered. As I shut the door, I felt someone’s hand grab mine and pull me into their chest. I laugh as I wrap my arms around Steve’s waist and rest my head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head as his arms wrapped around my shoulders. “I missed you” He whispers so quietly I almost couldn’t hear him. I hum in response as I buried my face deeper into his neck, leaving light kisses where my lips were. Being in Steve’s arms always felt safe, no matter where we were. We stood like this for at least five minutes before I finally remove my head from his shoulder. He loosened his grip and placed his hands gently on either side of my face. My hands find his waist as he whispers “you look beautiful” so quietly it almost seemed as if you weren’t meant to hear him. “Steve you can’t even see me” I say chuckling a little. “I don’t need to” He says before ducking his head down to kiss me ever so lightly. “You are so cheesy” I mumble into his lips before he removes his hands from my cheeks and rests them on my hips. My fingertips lightly caress the tops of his cheekbones before I slide my hands back, so my thumbs are just below the corner of his eyes. “You love it” He says before his lips find mine once again. My hands move to his hair, playing with the short pieces at the bottom of his neck. He attempts to move away from the door, but backs into one of the tables instead. I laugh a little and he takes that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. I gently tug at the roots of his hair casting him to let out a soft moan. He moves one of his hands to the small of my back and pulls me closer into his chest. All of a sudden the door opens and a voice squeals “WHAT THE HELL”. Steve and I jump back away from each other as quickly as possible but it’s too late. Jonathan stands in the door with a shocked look on his face as Nancy turns to run away. Jonathan mumbles an apology and begins to shut the door but I run out calling after Nancy. Steve and Jonathan follow as I grab her arm. “Look Nancy I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please believe me I’m so sorry and I’m so ashamed of myself right now and I just want you to know that -” “STOP! OKAY JUST STOP IT! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOUR EXCUSES SO PLEASE JUST GO AWAY!” Nancy yelled, tears filling her eyes. I let go of her wrist while the tears streamed down my face. She turned and walked away as I brought my hands to my face. Jonathan gave us a sympathetic look as he ran after Nancy. Once whey were gone, Steve put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry y/n” He said quietly. “Why don’t we go back to your place and watch some movies or something?“ "NO STEVE!” I shouted. “JUST GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!” “NO! I’M NOT LEAVING YOU ALONE RIGHT NOW OKAY! I’M NOT JUST GONNA DO THAT YOU NEED SOMEONE THERE!” He shouted back as I stared at him and cried. Luckily there was no one else in the school so the loud noises weren’t attracting anyone. He just looked at me as I stood in front of him sobbing. “Y/n I’m not going to leave you here alone. You need someone right now and I want that to be me. I’m never just going to leave you alone, because I love you. I’m never going to let you go through anything on your own.” You fall into his arms crying and apologizing. He just holds you as you replay those words he had just confessed to you in your head.


A WEEK LATER 


 I replay the scene over and over in my head. It’s something I can’t seem to stop doing. I snap out of my thoughts when I hear Steve calling my name. “Sorry what we’re you saying?” I ask the tall boy walking next to me. “I said my car is parked three rows back. You just kept walking and I was a little afraid you would get hot by a car or something” Steve says chuckling a little. I blush from embarrassment and mumble a quiet sorry to him. It’s the end of the school day and all I want to do is go home. We walk back to the car and get in. “Are you okay y/n? You’ve been zoning out a lot.” Steve says starting the car and pulling away. “Yeah I’m fine just a little tired” I say mustering up the best smile I can give him. “Well I just need to go somewhere and I’ll drop you off right after. It’ll be quick I promise.” Steve says looking at you a little. I nod in response and get lost in my thoughts again until we arrive. “We’re here. Why don’t you come with me?” I nod and follow Steve until I realize where I am. “Steve why are we here Nancy hates me please don’t make me go in.” I panic. “Just please go talk to her. I’m really worried about you. Please y/n, do it for me.” Steve pleads. I see the worry in his eyes so I agree. We walk up and Jonathan answers the door before I could knock. He smiles at me and tells me to go upstairs. Once I enter Nancy’s room she looks up at me shocked. I ask softly if I can come in and she nods at me. “Look Nancy I’m sorry and I get it if you don’t want to be friends but I miss you and I’m not the same and I feel so bad and I’m so sorry” I say holding back my tears. Nancy nods and looks at me. “Was this happening while I was with Steve?” She asks quietly. I shake my head. “NO! No of course not. Nancy you’re my best friend I would never do that to you”. She nods. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She questions. “I don’t know. I was scared that you would be mad and that you would make me chose between the two of you and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t even bear the thought of losing you but I don’t know what I would do if I lost him either. God we aren’t even dating and I’m talking about him like he’s the love of my life.” I say wiping my tears. “What do you mean?” She asks confused. “We’ve been hanging out for a while and he did ask me to be his girlfriend but I said that I couldn’t until I knew that you were alright with it.” I confessed. “When did this all start?” Nancy asks. “We were assigned to be partners in biology so we were hanging out to work on our project. After the project was finished he asked if I still wanted to hang out with him and I said sure because I had a lot of fun. I kind of had developed a crush on him and he told me that he did too.” I explain. Nancy mumbles a quiet okay and says “Just tell me one thing.” I nod at her and she continues. “Do you love him?” I widen my eyes at the question and stutter “w-welll i-i don’t know.” But then I started thinking. I was thinking about the time he offered to cut the frog open in biology because he knew that I didn’t want to, the times when he stayed at my house because I was afraid to be alone after a horror movie we watched, the time when he went on the Ferris wheel with me so I could get pictures for my photography class when no one else would. The time when he wouldn’t let me be alone when I thought I had lost my best friend, and finally when he told me he loved me. A small smile spread onto my cheeks as I thought. I looked at Nancy and nodded. “I think I do. I really do. I love Steve Harrington” Nancy smiled and grabbed my hand. “I forgive you. I’m sorry that I overreacted and I hope that you can forgive me.” Nancy said. I nodded as we hugged. We walked down to the living room hand in hand smiling. Jonathan’s face lit up when he say us and came over to hug me and tell me he missed me. We watched as Steve and Nancy slowly walked towards each other. Steve started to apologize but Nancy stopped him and hugged him. We all kept hugging and smiling for a while.

A FEW HOURS LATER 


After a few hours of hanging out with Nancy and Jonathan, Steve and I bid our goodbyes and got in his car. We began driving to my house as he looked over at me and told me he was proud of me. Once we got to my house we went up to my room and flopped onto my bed. “Thank you. I really don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t made me go.” I say looking over at him. He reached for one of my hands and intertwines it with his while he looks over to me. “I’m really glad you and Nancy are okay.” He says smiling. I hum in response. We stay silent for a few minutes until I quietly call his name. He turns onto his side to face me as I grab one of his hands and leave light kisses on his fingertips. “I just want you to know that I really appreciate what you did for me. And that I love you” I say the last three words quieter than the rest. He raises his eyebrows at me as if he was asking if I actually mean what I’m saying. I smiled at him and say “I mean it. I love you Steve Harrington”. His mouth opens in shock but his expression is quickly replaced by a huge smile. He grabs my waist and pulls me closer to him and I lean up to place a light kiss on his lips. “And Steve” I start. “Now that we know Nancy is okay with us -” “y/n will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, cutting me off mid-sentence. I laugh as I nod and I put my hand behind his neck to pull him down closer to me so I can kiss him again. “Yes” I mumble against his lips as he kisses me again. “But on one condition” I say as he looks down at me nodding. “You have to sit with us at lunch” I say as he laughs and kisses the tip of my nose. “It’s would be my pleasure” He says pulling me into his chest. We fell asleep like this not long after with limbs intertwined and smiles on our lips.

(click for higher resolution as usual)

Thank you for 100 followers and all of you putting up with my personal ramblings, guys! Have a tiny ficlet to go with the picture. :D

“Oh my God. Did you get them drunk, guys?” shouted Scott to the pack standing next to a dancing Derek and Stiles with all their phones out and recording. No one answered.

Scott tried again. “Erica, was it you?” He had to concentrate very hard to school his features into a disapproving scowl.

“Plausible deniability, Scotty.” said Erica. Boyd snickered behind her. Scott couldn’t take it any longer, he burst out laughing.

“Oh, man!” he got out in between the laughter shaking his body, “Tell me you’re getting this! This is the best thing ever! I can’t-” He really couldn’t. He totally lost it.

After about the two minutes of a laughing fit while the others stood around grinning, he finally continued, “Erica, how did you do it?”

“Okay, I laced his like, six shots with a bit of wolfsbane. Just a teeny, tiny bit. He even said it was fine after the first sip. Stiles did it to himself.”

“Please tell me he’s not stoned.”

“He might be, I don’t know? I mean, he’s definitely drunk but he does look high as a kite to me.”

“Oh man. They will be a handful later. But this is awesome.”

“It sure is.” said Erica with a huge grin, “I started recording after Derek’s fifth drink, it’s gonna be prime blackmail material when we wanna go out again and get him to pay for all of our drinks.”

This is the extent of my writing abilities, sorry. XD Have some dancing Sterek and cheer up, fandom!

[commissions][more sterek art]

This Could Be Worth the Risk, Worth the Guarantee

season 12 stories [part VI]
ao3

“Tom, put daddy’s guitar down, please!” Holy crap. “Wait, JJ, stop poking Odette!” Christ, these kids are acting like they’re on crack. Where’s the goddamn food? Where’s Jared?? “Shep, stop trying to do flips off the couch! You’re gonna break your neck!”

Jensen finally gave up on his attempt to run in six different directions at once and stood up, surveying the pandemonium playing out in front of him. He and Jared had all their kids for the weekend holiday, and it had been great, really great, but it was Sunday evening and they were absolutely wired. They’d been waiting for their food to be delivered for over an hour, and as the kids had gotten hungrier they’d also gotten grumpier, so Jared (and fine, maybe Jensen would admit he was a willing participant in the horrible decision) finally broke down and gave them all snacks. Unfortunately, the only snacks they’d had available were, of course, candy. (The fact that the only edible things they had in their entire kitchen were sweet tarts, rainbow ribbons, miniature Reese’s cups, four bags of gummy bears, a twelve-pack of Coke, and eight beers was totally Jared’s fault, Jensen decided.)

But Jared had disappeared a few minutes ago, leaving Jensen all alone to try and make sure the six (were there really only six? it seemed like twenty) kids didn’t set the apartment on fire…or worse.

“Jared!” Jensen bellowed, and Jared popped his head out of their bedroom. Jensen just stood there and lifted his hands up casually, inviting Jared to notice and perhaps help control the mayhem.

“I was calling the delivery place,” Jared explained as he stepped out of the bedroom and walked down the short hallway until he was standing right in front of Jensen. “They fucking canceled our order and didn’t even let us know!” Jared’s whisper was angry.

“Well, that would’ve been helpful to know,” Jensen growled, but he was less angry and more just frustrated, resigned to the fact that it would be at least another half hour before they could get something else delivered, which meant another half hour of acting not so much like a father as a freaking zookeeper. He loved and adored every single one of their kids, but there was a reason the original plan was to just have four. Because having six children all within five years of each other was…something else. Bang-your-head-on-the-wall, cry-until-you-laugh something else.

“Okay, well, what else could get here quick? That isn’t pizza,” Jensen rushed to add, knowing exactly what Jared was about to say. And any other night, pizza would have been perfectly satisfactory, but it was Easter weekend and it was the first time that all eight of them had been together. Together without any other…family.

Jared didn’t offer up any suggestions though; he was busy ranting to himself under his breath. Jensen knew with a sudden clarity that this was not going to be one of those times when Jared just let it go. Jensen could practically see the gears whirring in his head as Jared stared intently at his phone. Jensen knew Jared had decided on a course of action when his hands stopped fidgeting and he let a large breath of air out of his body, deflating like a balloon.

Jared looked up at Jensen with a crease between his eyebrows and his teeth biting at his bottom lip. He stared at Jensen like he was waiting for his permission or something. Jensen just raised his eyebrows; it was Jared’s choice, but Jensen figured it probably wouldn’t hurt to point out the obvious.

“You’re gonna get a lot of flak if you do it,” he said. His tone was light but still matter-of-fact. Jensen had expected Jared to hem and haw, or to groan knowingly, or to roll his eyes in exasperation; what Jensen wasn’t expecting was for Jared’s eyes to be glinting darkly like he was coming up with some evil master plan.

“Yeah. But…I think I can make it worthwhile,” he said with a shrug and a smirk.

“Umm…” Uncertainty flashed through Jensen’s mind as Jared’s thumbs tapped quickly on his phone. “Whatever, I’m ordering pizza,” he muttered to himself with a sigh as he brought out his own phone and scrolled through his contacts, finding their go-to pizza place and calling in an order. It only took a few minutes, and as Jensen ended the call a Twitter notification popped up on his phone.

He groaned; he knew this could only mean one thing. Jared was already back in the living room, his attention fully on their kids, so Jensen took a quick second to check and see what Jared had posted. It was a picture—a screenshot, actually—and the caption read: .@jensenackles and I waited over an hour for @Favor for 6 combined kids. No phone call or text to let us know it got cancelled. #NeverAgain.

Jensen had to reread it four times before it completely sunk in. He stood there speechless; maybe to a casual observer it didn’t seem conspicuous, but Jared had just publicly stated that he and Jensen were together with all their kids—and no wives—on Easter.

The tweet was already racking up likes and replies and retweets or whatever, so Jensen quickly scrolled through the comments. As predicted, some were rude or downright cruel; most were supportive; and a handful were people freaking out over the exact thing that Jensen was kind of freaking out over.

Jared had soft-outed them.

That’s what Jensen had taken to calling moments like these, when one (or both) of them said or did something that just seemed to make their relationship so blatantly obvious to anyone who was willing to see. There had been many of them over the years, but over the last two or three—probably since Jensen had moved to Austin—it was like they were rapid-fire shooting them.

Little rocks and pebbles hurled at the constricting and reviled glass closet they’d been forced into so many years ago. And boy, did Jensen love the look of those cracks.

“Jay!” he called loud enough to be heard over the whines and laughs and shrieks of six little ones. Jared looked up at him from where he was wrestling on the ground with JJ. Jensen pulled up the camera on his phone and took a quick video, wanting to remember everything about this moment. “I liked your tweet!” he said, knowing that his comment could be heard in the recording.

“Hey babe, I was just making a statement about poor customer service,” he said casually, tickling their daughter into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah, well…” Jensen trailed off as he walked over to them, bending forward and drawing his arm back at the same time so that he could be seen by the camera now too. He dropped onto the floor and leaned over JJ to give Jared a kiss.

“Eww!” Shep squealed right before jumping onto Jensen’s back.

“Daddy and Jensen sittin’ in a tree,” Tom sang loudly and off-key, “K-I-S-do-bo-me,” continued, changing the lyrics halfway through because he didn’t know how to spell the word ‘kissing’ quite yet.

“Where’d he learn that?” Jared asked, mock-scandalized. He looked into the camera. “Oh, right…I taught him.” He winked as Jensen cracked up and planted another kiss on Jared, his mouth still open and laughing.

“So that’s how you spend your time in Austin without me?”

“Well, I try to do all the important things while I’m there,” Jared replied. Tom tumbled over Jared’s legs and joined the group on the ground. Jensen stopped the recording and stuck his phone back in his pocket before it got stepped on by tiny but surprisingly damage-inflicting feet. The three babies were sitting in their little baby seat-things, not able to join in with the roughhousing but providing a very substantial background track. The commotion grew when the doorbell buzzed, probably the delivery guy with their pizzas.

Jared hauled himself up, Shep clinging to one shin and JJ the other, and shuffled over to the intercom to buzz the guy in. Minutes later, there was knocking on the door and Jared opened it immediately. Jensen appeared with his wallet and Tom hanging onto him in a piggyback ride.

“Looks like you’re having a fun evening,” the guy commented as he handed the pizzas to Jared and took cash from Jensen. Jensen had seen him enough over the last few years of him and Jared ordering pizza to know the guy’s name—Chris—and to have spent a few minutes here and there chatting.

“Yeah, loads” Jared said as he tried to balance the pizzas while walking towards the kitchen, dragging the two kids who were still on his legs.

“Have a good night,” Jensen grinned at Chris, who chuckled and waved before turning and heading back down the hall to the elevators.

“Okay, guys,” Jensen spoke loudly to get their children’s attention, “if you keep hanging on to us you won’t get to eat pizza—“

“PIZZA!” JJ shrieked and immediately released her grip on Jared, thumping down onto the floor. The others followed and Jared grabbed paper plates and napkins while Jensen poured drinks and heated up milk for the babies.

“You know,” Jared muttered to Jensen, “I’m kinda glad that stupid app screwed up our order.”

“Yeah? And why’s that, Padalecki?”

“Because, Ackles, now I have a good excuse when my manager calls me tomorrow to yell at me about saying I was with you and not Gen.”

“That won’t shut him up,” Jensen pointed out, internally wincing at the thought of yet another of Spilo’s red-faced meltdowns.

“True,” Jared agreed, then slipped his hand inside Jensen’s pocket and whipped out his phone. “Actually,” he said thoughtfully as he looked through something on the phone, “if I’m gonna get yelled at anyways, why don’t I just go ahead and post that video you just took?”

“Jay!” Jensen said in alarm, but there was no heat to it. Frankly, he didn’t give a shit if they accidentally (or not-so-accidentally) got outed, right here right now. However, he’d imagined the moment to be a bit more romantic and, well, epic.

“Yeah, babe, I know. I’m just kidding,” Jared sighed before handing the phone back. Jensen smiled sadly and ran his hand through Jared’s hair a few times.

“Soon,” he promised.

Later that night, Jared snored softly beside him as Jensen lay wide-awake in their bed; he’d been unable to fall asleep for hours now. He plucked his phone off the nightstand and flicked through it. His fingers shook as he composed a simple but sweet tweet and attached a video to it. He stared wistfully at the screen, his thumb hovering over the ‘tweet’ button for several minutes. He finally let out a long and slightly-pained sighed as he hit ‘X’ instead, deleting his declaration of love before anyone got the chance to see it.

Soon, he repeated to himself.

Crazy Little Thing Called Love | 3

Originally posted by squynhty

Chapters: (1) (2)

Pairing: Baekhyun x OC

Genre & Warnings: Smut as hell, beginning of angst…

Note: Finally some action! Also, starting to increase the tension. Next chapter will probably be angsty AF, so I apologize in advance. I changed some things around for this awards show to suit my purposes. I mainly just wanted the look because I adore the velvet, however I couldn’t find a good gif of just him wearing it. 

It’s been almost a month since the last time Crystal had seen Baekhyun. Twenty six days, twenty one hours, and fourteen minutes. Not like she was counting. She knew he was busy of course, but they lived in the age of technology. A simple “Hey, I’m alive and totally didn’t forget that I was just sucking your face off not that long ago.” Whatever. She was back in school and had better things to do. Wondering why Byun Fucking Baekhyun would mess with her like that was not one of them. Not at all. Who cared about his smiling face with the perfect voice and….

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variety.com
In Harry Styles’ World, Led Zeppelin Is Weird, Bukowski Is Cool: Inside the Album With Producer Jeff Bhasker (EXCLUSIVE)
“Maybe we’ll bring fathers and daughters together.”
By Shirley Halperin

Producer Jeff Bhasker faced a daunting task several months ago. After having worked with Kanye West and winning Grammy Awards for producing Mark Ronson’s “Uptown Funk,” and Fun.’s 2012 album “Some Nights,” he had to decide whether to take on a new project: the debut solo album of One Direction member Harry Styles.

“I’d just had a baby, and I was kind of like, ‘Eh, I don’t know if I’ll jump into this,‘” Bhasker tells Variety. He agreed to have Styles come over to “just talk,” and proceeded to put him through the Bhasker home sniff test. “My dog tends to bite people, and he was kind of scoping Harry out,” Bhasker explains. Styles “did this move — like a little shoot the gun with his finger, and my dog walked over and started licking his finger. That’s when I was, like, ‘This guy has something special.'”

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Agiel requested this prompt on AO3:

So how about instead a Destiel AU with Dean/Cas/happiness where the apocalypse was never a plot line and instead of Dean going to find Sam at Stanford, Sam makes the effort to find Dean. Don’t care how or why, just that for the first time he’s sees his brother happy, and in a way he never expected. And maybe realizes how much of a dick he was to the guy who actually raised him. Dean can be a hunter or be out of the life and Cas can be an angel, human, or what have you, but mostly I just want Dean to be HAPPY and LOVED.


Yeah I’m not sure if this could have been done in 1k…I did my best but it came out half-again longer than that…oh well.

Established Destiel, canon divergent, PoV Sam Winchester, rated G. 1504 words.

[x posted to AO3 - Jesus of Suburbia]


Taking a deep breath, Sam pressed the brake on his car and checked his GPS again. He’d already circled the block three times, unable to believe the obsequious pre-recorded voice on his phone had steered him correctly.

This…this suburban stereotype, complete with white picket fences and neighbors washing cars in driveways and perfectly manicured lawns…

this was where Dean lived?

Inconceivable.

It had taken Sam months of research to track his brother down, days upon days with a low background buzz of anxiety, an endless litany of fear suggesting that when Sam finally found Dean, all he’d find was a grave.

But no.

He’d found this prosaic reality instead.

(read more!)

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Seasons: Part 2

A/N: Hey remember that time I wrote that thing? Yeah I wrote another part for it. Let me know what you guys think, I hope you like it!

Spencer x Reader

warnings: language, implied smut (like very light)

word count: 2, 800


Summer, Fifth Year

When you were younger summer was your favorite time of the year. It came with freedom, warm breezes, and a simplicity that could only be described as summertime. Eventually you grew up and realized those summer fantasies didn’t exist anymore, now you dreaded this time of year. Summers were now spent working, away from the life you had built.

There was a semi-professional theatre company in your hometown. Semi-professional of course putting it lightly. Sure, it gave you something to put on your resume and a paycheck, but the quality was nothing to brag about. In fact, you could probably compare it to high school theatre if you were being honest. The man who owned it was a good friend though and guaranteed you a spot, so that was a benefit. It still didn’t make anything easier. One last season. That’s what you told yourself every summer, and it was always a lie. No matter how hard you tried and prayed you had always wound up back here. Fate had seemed to make up its mind and broadway wasn’t it. One last season. One last fucking season. You didn’t expect Spencer to come down and visit, not at first, not after what happened. After those first few phone calls, crying and screaming on both ends, it seemed like you both decided to ghost one another. He surprised you though, calling earlier this week saying he had bought a plane ticket and was coming down that weekend to talk. You both knew what you wanted to talk about, but the topic had been tip toed around at every moment. There was that idea that maybe if you didn’t talk about it you could act like it never happened. That of course, being impossible. Yet, the fact that he came showed you how much he must’ve cared. Maybe there was a chance that you could move past everything and start a new chapter, together.

 He had been here for a total of four hours and thirty-six minutes, so far you both had exchanged maybe seven words with each other. You sat across from one another, eating lunch in silence. The restaurant you were at was within walking distance from the theatre, so it made the most sense why you picked it. You didn’t have to be back for another hour and a half, and that was if you decided to leave early. You picked at the food in front of you, wondering which one of you was going to break the silence first. Spencer was too busy piling the vegetables on his plate together, so you took the chance,

“I think you’re gonna like the show,” you set your fork down before continuing, “its actually kinda good this time.”

Spencer smiled softly at you, putting his fork down as well. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. You stared down at the hand that held yours, directly at the ring in his finger. For a moment, you felt that familiar warmth and safety that came when holding his hand until a sinking feeling settled in your stomach causing you to pull away. You tried to cover the action by reaching for your water and taking a sip. Spencer of course didn’t buy, he didn’t say anything however, instead he went back to picking at his plate.

“I’m glad you came.” You offered, and Spencer only nodded. You couldn’t blame him; you weren’t exactly giving him anything to go off of. You both wanted to talk, yet now given the opportunity there was nothing to be said. It wasn’t like knew exactly what to say, nothing about this was easy. The two you just stood, each extending an olive branch but not willing to accept the other’s. You didn’t know what was worse, the silence or the storm waiting to blow over.

“I think we’re gonna be okay.” Spencer looked up when you spoke, he took a deep breath in, visibly relaxing when you said those words. It was as though that was all he needed to hear. Deep down there was a part of him that knew you both weren’t going to be who you used to be, but maybe he could hope. There was that possibility that after everything you could be just as, if not better, then what you were. With enough glue and rope, you could rebuild the life you had. It was a fool’s dream, but it was enough for the both of you to cling too.

“Maybe tomorrow, after the matinee, we could go to the lake like we used too?” You asked. Spencer felt his heart cry out at the look of hope and desperation in your eyes. There was something so innocent in how you had sounded. Something that made him want to hold you tight and never let you go like he had done so many times before. Which made what he said that much harder,

“I can’t stay for that long,” he looked back down at his plate, knowing looking at you would only make this worse, “there’s this thing for Random House that I said I’d go to, and…”

He trailed off, not at a loss for words but rather because he knew that you were used to this. It was something you become accustomed to. There was an unfortunate downside to Spencer being a New York times’ best seller, that being there was always something to pull him away. Usually it was parties and interviews, but the occasional meeting did show up to put a drizzle on your parade. You didn’t get mad like he had expected. Instead you just took a deep breath and nodded your head. You were trying your best to be understanding. Did it suck that he had to go again? Yes. But you were trying to move past this, that’s what him being here was for. You’d make the best of this situation and hope that he’d come back and visit soon. He was here now and that’s what mattered. 

“Then we’ll just have to make up for it later tonight.” You were trying, you really were.

Spencer didn’t look as relieved this time. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, still avoiding your gaze. This was becoming a more and more bitter pill to swallow.

“I can’t stay for tonight either,” he bit the inside of his cheek, still not looking you in the eye, “the event is in the morning, so I have to fly out tonight.”

His words didn’t register with you at first. It was like someone had knocked the wind out of you. Perhaps you had heard him wrong, maybe there was some mistake. The look on his face told a different story. He truly was leaving. Suddenly everything had come crashing down on top of you like a bucket of cold water. The rose-tinted glass you were looking through had shattered, leaving nothing but reality to set in. You wish you could say this was the first time something like this had happened. That he hadn’t blown you off so many times that you had lost count. That deep down you weren’t disappointed in him, but more so yourself for actually believing that this was going to go how you had wanted it.

“Spencer, can I say something?” you asked, he nodded but you weren’t really waiting for him to continue, “How many more parties is there going to be? How many times is this going to happen before I can have you back? I mean it’s not like you don’t spend every minute with them. I’m just… I’m tired of everything else being a priority and I’m an obligation, ya know?”

 Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It wasn’t like you to talk about his coworkers like that, nor was it like you to be so cold. He understood why you were frustrated, he wouldn’t blame you for being upset, but he still thought you would understand, “You’re not an obligation…”

“No, that’s just it, Spencer.” you cut him off, your emotions starting to get the best of you, “You’re choosing some get together with your publisher over being here with me, again. I mean god forbid you actually spend some time with your wife!”

“Y/N, I have to go!” By now people in the restaurant were starting to notice your voices raising. It was very unlike you and Spencer to yell, but lately it seemed like all you two were good at. It’s not like you weren’t proud of him, but there comes a point where you can’t handle it all. After bottling up most of what you were feeling for the day you were finally cracking, and Spencer wasn’t any better. You were getting more and more worked up by the second,

 “No, you don’t have to go. For god sake, Spencer, it’s not even a party for your book! You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know that the real reason you’re going is so you can go spend time with your girlfriend?” you spat the words like venom at him. Spencer stiffened when you made that jab, it was a low blow but not an untrue one. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, you knew it for yourself.

 “Will you stop? People are watching!” he reached out and grabbed both of your wrists from across the table. You yanked yourself out of his grasp, shaking your head, “I thought you liked the attention, huh? I mean that’s how it is now, right? Everything just has to be about you! Spencer fucking Reid, our goddamn literary genius!”

Silence fell over the restaurant. Everyone by now was looking at you two, the couple screaming their heads off at each other at the booth in the back. You were breathing heavy, tears welled up into your eyes. Spencer was at a loss for words. While he was upset at you for lashing out and causing a scene, he was also heartbroken at a sudden realization; you were gone. He knew he shouldn’t have come. There you sat, crying across from him. Waiting for something, anything from him. There was nothing, though. Nothing to be said, nothing to be done. At least nothing he could think of. Through your tears you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you wiped your cheeks.

 “I will never understand how a writer can’t find the right words when his wife is crying” you said coldly. Without giving him a chance to respond, you gathered your things and slid out of the booth.

 You and Spencer stared at each other for a brief moment, him still sitting at the table, you standing beside it. Neither one of you spoke. You both just waited, waited for something to happen and make it all better. Tears were shed and hearts reached out for each other, but nothing past that. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Spencer’s head. He squeezed your hand on top of the table, holding on for everything he had left. With what little hope and dignity you had left, you pulled away and headed towards the exit. You left the restaurant, and though deep down you desperately wanted him to, Spencer didn’t stop you.


Autumn, First Year

It wasn’t often you and Spencer found yourselves alone in his apartment, or vice versa. So, whenever either one of your roommates were out you both took full advantage it. Just the two of you, together behind closed doors. Clinging to one another under a mess of sheets and giggling like a couple of teenagers. Today being no exception, you both were supposed to go see a movie, but instead found yourselves locked away in Spencer’s bedroom the moment you realized his roommate, Luke, was out. To say that your relationship was going well would be a vast understatement.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, looking up at your boyfriend as he stared off, a dazed and dreamlike smile on his face. Spencer turned his attention towards you, smiling brighter at the sight of you. You lay bundled up in his sheets, hair mused from the previous activities the two of you shared.

 “That thing you did with your tongue” Spencer cheekily replied.

You gasped, a deep blush rising to your cheeks. You lightly smacked his shoulder and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at how adorably flustered you were. He grasped your hand, lacing your fingers together and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He went to pull away but you stopped him, holding him by the back of the neck and deepening the kiss. As cliché as it was, Spencer found himself smiling like a love-struck fool into the kiss. He rolled over so he was on top, planting more kisses along your neck. You giggled as he playfully nipped at your jaw, squirming underneath him. Spencer pulled away, looking down at you with that same dazed and dreamy look he had earlier.

 “Let’s move in together” he said it so softly you almost missed it.

 You stopped laughing, your eyes going wide as you stared up at him. Sitting up, you tried to make sure you had heard him correctly, “What did you say?”

Spencer sat up on his knees, still looking at you. He reached his hand out and cupped your face, softly brushing his thumb against your cheek. He licked his lips before he spoke again, “I want to move in together.”

You had heard him right. A million thoughts were running through your head. Part of you wanted to scream, another part of you just wanted to throw your arms around him and kiss him everywhere humanly possible. You didn’t know what to say or think, mostly you just wanted to know when he decided he wanted this. The topic of living together first came up last summer when you brought him home to meet your parents. It had been you who brought it up, and though you knew it was still very early in the relationship you just wanted him to know that you had never felt the way you felt about him with anyone else before. Spencer wasn’t quite sure yet, but assured he loved you and would think about it. Now, just a month later he had made up his mind and couldn’t be happier.

 “Are you sure?” you asked tentatively and Spencer just nodded, a smile still plastered across his face. You pounced on him, pouring everything you were feeling into a kiss because words just didn’t seem to be enough. Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist, holding your body against his. You pressed your lips against his two more times, trying to hold back all of your excitement. Spencer chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

 “I got a call from my agent today,” he bit his lip, running his hands along your sides, “she sent in a copy of my book to Random House Publishing. They want to meet with me tomorrow.”

 “Oh my god, Spencer that’s amazing!” you practically jumped at the news, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug. Spencer burring his face in your neck and holding you tightly.

 The idea that his book might be getting published was still so unbelievable to him.  As soon as he found out he began running around his apartment, scaring Luke and his dog. He knew that the first person he wanted to tell was you and the fact that he had to wait till you came over was agony. That’s when he realized he didn’t want to ever wait, he wanted you near and as close as possible. He hated coming home and you not being there, or rarely getting time for just the two of you as either Penelope or Luke were around.

“I love you.” He whispered into your neck, nibbling and kissing up the side until he could say it again in your ear.

“I love you too, Spencer.” You pulled him in to another kiss, holding him as close as you possibly could.

You both told Luke the good news when he got home, both about Spencer’s book and moving in together. He congratulated you both, clapping Spencer on the back and giving his friend a hug. He seemed a little weary, probably because you and Spencer haven’t even been dating for a year and were choosing to take the next big step and live together. Maybe things were moving fast, but there wasn’t a doubt in either of your minds. Spencer’s future was unfolding; his life was being planned out and he wanted you to be a part of it. For Spencer Reid, life was looking perfect.


Lay Me Down - Part 2 ( +extra)

Originally posted by maria-magnolia2

-> Part 1 <-

Pairing: Dracoxreader

Words: 1341

Warnings: none

A/U:  So, this is set on Christmas, but since today it’s Valentine’s day, I thought “what the hell?” and posted anyway. 

I added an extra part in the end. It’s short so I thought I would post them together instead of putting it in a different post. Anyways, enjoy!

..


“We need to get out of here,” he said, moving past you, “there’s an exit this way,” he said. You grabbed the jar and followed him.

You ran until you were far away from the kitchen, you were outside now, hiding among the trees. With your one of hands you cleaned a bench and sat down to take a breath. It wasn’t snowing anymore, but it was still cold, you were glad you hadn’t forgotten your yellow scarf.

Draco cleaned the other side and sat next to you. He looked at you and laughed, “honestly, we were about to get caught, and your first reaction it’s to grab the monkey thing?”

You laughed too, “Well I did not go through all that trouble for nothing,” you said, “wait a minute. Where are the glasses?” you asked;he had forgotten them, “C’mon Draco! Not even straws?”

“Y/N, we were about to get caught, sorry I decided to get us out instead of looking for glasses.”

You huffed, “Fine, I guess we’ll drink directly from the jar,” You said, he scrunched his nose.

“That is gross.”

“Suit yourself. I made cola de mono and I’m drinking it,” You said taking a sip from the jar. “Ahh tastes like home.” you said feeling the warmth of the alcohol in your stomach.

You took a few more sips and looked at Draco that kept observing you, “Oh, bloody hell, let me try,” He said extending his hands. You let out a hearty laugh before handing it to him.

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anonymous asked:

could you write something with stakar meeting peter as a kid? maybe peter loses yondu while they're on a planet and attaches himself to stakar because he recognizes the coat?

Also posted on AO3: Bring it on Home (2700 wds). The hug in this fic is totally inspired by this lovely art by @dis4daria.


Peter only stops for a minute, hanging through the bars of a corral to watch a display of synchronized riding by orange-skinned, green-haired ladies in flowing silks, on six-legged animals with long streaming fur that makes them look like a cross between horses and llamas and those little dogs that look like mops. The ladies are standing up barefoot on the backs of the horse/dog/llamas, twirling batons with fire on the tips, and Peter thinks it’s just about the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

He swears he was only watching for a minute, but when when he looks up, any signs of nearby Ravager red have vanished in the festival crowd of aliens thronging the streets.

There’s some kind of carnival going on. It’s awesome – the closest thing Peter’s seen was the Missouri state fair, and he thought that was pretty rad, but this is way cooler. He wouldn’t have thought space pirates would like going to things like fairs and carnivals for fun, but the Ravagers hit the planet and fanned out into the carnival crowd like a bunch of overgrown kids, so apparently they do.

Yondu, as usual, hasn’t been looking like he’s having much fun at all, just marching around glowering at anybody who gets in his way. However, he did point Peter at a display of candy earlier and told him that anything he could steal without getting caught, he could keep, so now Peter’s pockets are stuffed full of alien candy bars and other treats (he’s getting pretty good at this whole stealing thing) and his fingers are sticky. He’s pretty confident that he won’t starve if he can’t find Yondu again.

But he’s also nine years old and he’s lost on an alien planet.

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