holy mother... if you knew the amount of time i spent on this

Wayward Girl (StilesxReader) Part 1 {SPNXTW}

A/N: Okaay story time. I posted this ages ago on ao3 and then I found out that someone was posting it here??? Anyway I got my account suspended and the person who posted it here deleted. Eventually, I took it down from ao3 and pretty much gave up on the whole story but now there is *****inspiration***** and I can post it again.

Fandoms: Teen Wolf and Supernatural (Crossover)

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Summary: The reader is Dean’s daughter, and after his death, Sam sends her to take care of a werewolf problem in Beacon Hills.

Warnings: angsty, nudity, self harm.

Part 1 Part 2

Keep reading

Soul Mark

Originally posted by imxginxsforyou

Seth Clearwater x Reader

Soul Mark

Note: So, reader is a witch (idk if those exist in the Twilight universe or not, but…) And yeah, I aged Seth up a little bit, but besides that, there you go.

Warnings: None??

Word Count: 2121

The move from Salem to Forks had been rough. As soon as your family stepped into the house, you put lines of salt in front of every door and window. No matter how many candles you lit, you still couldn’t drown out the scent of bloodsucker.

God, there must have been a ton of vampires around here. For good measure, you sprinkled some garlic in the front lawn. It wouldn’t keep them away, but at least they’d know they were unwanted.

Keep reading

Guilt Part 2

A/N. Sooooo, this was so highly requested that I just had to do another part. (I also wanted to because holy mother of gods I’m so into writing this and I’m stopping myself from making it too fast paced and it’s so hard but yeah) But this will be the penultimate part, I’ve decided. I’m just so invested in portraying Draco as the character he really is - he’s truly a kind and caring person, but of course he’s got this dark side and idk he’s BEAUTIFUL AND HOT. But I hope you enjoyed this, and for some reason this chapter reminds me of ‘Famous Last Words’ by MCR, so if you want to give that a listen, go on ahead :)

Originally posted by tess453

Keep reading

To Be Loved

A/N: This fic is for @nothin-after-79 ‘s 1k Writing Challenge. I chose to do a Crowleyxreader with the prompt “At birth, I was cast into a flaming pit of scum forgotten by God” - Natural Born Killers Hope you like it and congrats on 1k!

Tagging: @nothin-after-79

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Words: 2,367 (a bit much)

Warnings: Uh i guess angst. Mean ol Rowena. Crowley feels. It gets a bit sad. But ends with fluff so no worries. implied smut. A tiny sexual part. That’s about it.

Prompt: “At birth, I was cast into a flaming pit of scum forgotten by God.”

Originally posted by sooper-dee-dooper-natural


Keep reading

Avengers Chat Pt 1

Summary:: You’ve been secretly dating Bucky for a while now. Using a chat-room is the only way you two can communicate while he’s away on missions as not to get caught by the others. Yet one simple mistake and the secrets out.

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex. (More comedy)

Originally posted by rebekka-donell

Keep reading

Things That Make Me Love Magnus Chase

((Please note that I’ve Only Read The Sword of Summer)) @alexfierrno Thanks for convincing me to read this amazing book and for bringing me into this amazing fandom. I owe ya!!

• Our main character lived on the streets for two years.

• Annabeth literally hasn’t seen her cousin in years (and probably hasn’t thought about him much considering all she’s done since PJO/HOO) but she literally drops everything to find him in Boston.

• WE HAVE AN ARAB AMERICAN GIRL WHO WEARS A HIJAB BY CHOICE

• Blitz and Hearth. Just…Blitz and Hearth.

• Blitz being a MOC dwarf whos mother is a goddess and who loves fashion.

• Hearth being a deaf elf who taught Magnus ASL.

• Hearth only wears the red and white scarf because Blitz said it would look nice. (he never really takes it off)

• Natalie Chase being an amazing mother who I love and we’ve never even officially met her

• The occupants of floor 19

• Thomas Jefferson Jr’s mother was a runaway sLAVE AND NO ONE WANTS TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THAT?

• Gunilla being Gorilla

• Magnus being genuinely mad when he gets abs

• “A pen sword” (I see what you did there Rick, we see you)

• Loki. I’m so sorry, but I always imagine him as Tom Hiddleston.

• Blitz and Hearth falling out of the world tree.

• Sam being in an arranged marriage with Amir but being in love with. We have a consentual arranged marriage.

• “How many Arab American female pilots do you know?”

• Magnus’ inability to shut the hell up

• Huge ducks being the portal to different worlds.

• Sam turning her swan cloak into a hijab.

• Blitz and Magnus are technical first cousins.

• The fact that the dwarves put so much heart and soul into their creations, even if it’s just a cup.

• Blitz says on page 301 that he’s only 20. He was literally only 18 when he drank from the well. He was just a kid, and he spent 2 years taking care of Magnus.

• Blitz 👏 built 👏 Hearth 👏 a 👏 fricking 👏 tanning 👏 bed 👏 in 👏 his 👏 apartment 👏 Odin 👏 bless 👏 this 👏 dwarf 👏

• Otis is a small precious child who has a therapist oh my God I love that goat.

• Thor is such a fangirl I love him. (SIDE NOTE: In total, Rick has referenced The Mortal Instruments ((he dedicated this book to Cassandra Clare and thanked her for the use of Magnus. Cough cough Magnus Bane cough cough)) Doctor Who, Arrow, Sherlock, The Walking Dead, Breaking Bad, Game Of Thrones, and Supernatural)

• Hearth is so fricking sassy around Thor oh my god.

• Apparently there are Norse zombies called draugr. Who knew.

• “[Blitz] crawled into the tent and muttered to Hearthstone, “Make some room you tent hog!” Then he draped his over-coat across the elf, which I thought was kind of sweet. “ - Pg.370. HOLY CRAP THIS PART I LITERALLY HAD TO PUT THE BOOK DOWN AND SCREAM.

• Hearth fucking putting Otis and Marvin’s heads in Thor’s arms. “Never let it be said that elves don’t have a sense of humor. ”

• OK, but how tf is Loki an 8 legged horses mother?? Could someone explain that to me??

•"He leaned against Blitz, giggling silently and making random signs like, Butterfly. Pop. Yippee. ” Pg.384: HES SO CUTE AND ACTS SO DRUNK HERE ITS ADORABLE I LOVE HIM.

•Hearth being hella confused since the sign for I Love You looks similar to drinking out a bottle.

•"“Here he is,” Sam called, brushing some rubble off the fallen elf. “I think he’s okay. ” “Thank Odin!” Blitz started forward but almost fell.’ Pg. 406

•BLITZ REALLY WANTS TO OPEN UP A CLOTHING STORE.

•Sam, Magnus, Blitz, and Hearth being a family of empty cups 😭😭💗

•I LOVE THE FACT THAT HEARTH’S DISABILITY IS SUCH AN ASSET IN HAVING TO REBIND FENRIS. HES THE ONLY ONE WHO COULD THINK CLEARLY BECAUSE HES DEAF AND COULDNT HEAR FENRIS. THANK RICK FOR GIVING ME A DEAF HERO USING THEIR DISABILITY AS AN ADVANTAGE.

•Floor 19 letting Magnus go free I cry.

•"I felt as if I were seeing Hearthstone for the first time. He didn’t stumble. He didn’t faint. He strode confidently forward, flowers expanding before him like an unrolling carpet. Not only was Hearth immune to the wolfs voice, his rune magic was literally redrawing the boundaries of Fenris’ prison. “ Pg.450 - This was so beautiful. I cried so hard when I read this. He’s come such a long way and he’s developed so much I love Hearth.

•Frey looks more like Marvels’ Thor than Thor did.

•Frey realizes that Magnus probably isn’t ready for a father figure just yet.

•Magnus is the one to initiate the hug between them.

• Blades before Babes.

•The chapter title for Chapter Sixty-Nine is "Oh…So That’s Who Fenris Smelled in Chapter Sixty-Three”. Did he…Did Rick just break the fourth wall???!?1?!1

•BLITZ IS GETTING HIS CLOTHING LINE IM SO HAPPY HE DESERVES ALL OF IT AND MORE.

• ‘The screen changed. In Sam’s photo, she was standing nervously at the counter of Fadlan’s Falafel, her face turned aside, blushing furiously as Amir leaned towards her, grinning. “Oooooo,” said the crowd of einherjar, followed by a fair amount of snickering. “Kill me now,” Sam muttered. “Please. "Pg. 478.

•Halfborn and Mallory!!!!!1!!11!1

•"To us, the Chase cousins. Here’s to being less messed up. ” Pg. 487

• I LOVE ANNABETH AND MAGNUS’ RELATIONSHIP HOLY FRICK.

All joking aside, this is a seriously good book and I can’t wait to check out the second book tomorrow. I can’t wait to meet Alex Fierro. This book made me cry, and laugh, and stay up way too late. I seriously recommend this to anyone who’s a fan of myths. Really, this book is a treasure.

2

Crossword

14

Wednesday, December 22nd.
Silence.
Dr Jackson was making a lot of notes, which was weird, because I hadn’t said very much.

“I finished for Christmas today.” I chirped. “I’m going home.”

“You seem… excited? I wasn’t expecting that.” She didn’t lift her eyes from the paper.

Myself and Harry had both discussed not telling Bryony about our little set up, because fucking hell, I’d never get out of therapy if she knew I was setting up fake relationships to deal with my family. I’d have to keep seeing her for the rest of my damn life.

Keep reading

One-Shot: Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Disclaimer: Contains swearing.

“No way!”
“Absolutely not!”
“Don’t even think about it.”

The protests of the Avengers rang out amongst the room. Cap had walked in and, sick of the amount of obscene language used by his friends, placed an empty jar on the table on which was stuck a label containing the words “Swear Jar”, scribbled in barely legible writing. Standing with his arms folded, Steve tapped his foot angrily.
“It’s not that bad an idea.” He protested. Bruce approached him and softly placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Believe me when I say that it is.” He said in his usual quiet and sincere tone. After giving a weak smile, he left the room. It wasn’t really going to affect him anyway as a naturally calm person but even he knew that the idea was not going to be easy for the others to digest. Steve had anticipated as much and so continued to talk to the others.
“I think it would be helpful.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Tony said, stepping forward and placing a hand over his chest.
“Did we not make fun of you enough already?” He flashed an insincere smile. Cap rolled his eyes.
“Well I don’t care. It’s staying here. I’m not saying you have to stop altogether, just the more profuse terms.” Clint had his arms folded.
“Well, what counts as profuse?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I have a list.” Tony turned to Clint and gave him an exaggerated nod with raised eyebrows.
“He has a list.” He mocked with a wink. Clint stifled a smirk but Steve shot daggers at him whilst searching for the piece of paper.
“Это абсурд.” (This is ridiculous.) Pietro whispered to Wanda.
“Чертов смешно.” (Fucking absurd.) She replied. Natasha picked up on her native tongue and turned round subtly. Wanda gave her a wink and she smiled. After pulling out the crumpled piece of paper, Steve placed it on the table. The others gathered around and examined it.
“What the fuck?” Tony exclaimed – Cap winced. The jar was not yet in effect.
“Why is “hell” on there? That’s not a swear word!” Tony waved his hands dramatically to emphasise his point and Natasha nodded.
“Yeah, I have to say Cap, some of these are a little extreme.”
“Everybody gets to choose one word to cross off.” He said, handing them a pencil.

Keep reading

Mystic Messenger: Another Story (some info)

September 10th: 

This entire post contains a lot of spoilers and thoughts on the game thus far 
I didn’t buy all the days I’ve played thus far but for the days I bought the hourglass rate depended on how many story events/significant events were present. Day 3 or 4 cost300 Hour glass, but I think purchasing day 5 cost 180. I don’t quite remember exactly tbh.

Update: Midway Day 6, I purchased 24 hours and it’s 165 hg. The cost does decrease depending on the content.  

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

another vote for a bible story, which one are you thinking of?

I am thinking of - and have indeed prepared - the story of Samson and Delilah! 

There is a small disclaimer regarding the treatment of religious texts in modern society under the Read More, as well as some very brief discussions of comparative literature. One disclaimer here, though - comments about the religious authenticity or lack thereof of this text are not welcome. This story has been retold as a work of narrative fiction, as have all other retellings I’ve done. All stories are on the same level playing field in that respect, and I would appreciate it if people could refrain from insinuating otherwise. I don’t encourage Bible bashing in any sense. No belief system is above or below any other.

If you don’t want to read the poorly retold tale of a man with a perpetual bad hair day and an aversion to marriage counselling, press J on your keyboard to skip!

God Hates Hairdressers

So, this story starts with a dude named Manoah and his barren wife. His wife doesn’t have a name, because the Bible isn’t really interested in her role in the narrative beyond her empty womb, but I’m not down with that, so let’s call her Jill. Anyway, one day, Jill is just sort of chilling by herself while Manoah is doing important manly shit that doesn’t involve wombs, when suddenly this angel just appears right next to her and the angel is like “yo Jill, you know how you’re barren?” and Jill is like “yeah, that’s a thing that I am” and the angel is like “and you know how you totally can’t ever have kids?” and Jill sighs and says “is there a point to this or are you just making a statement about women’s role within the society of Zorah” and the angel chuckles and says “dude, next time you’re bemoaning women’s rights in this shitty little valley, make sure you use the past tense, because BAM, you’re totally going to get all sprogged up soon with the raddest baby ever and everything is going to be absolutely fucking awesome” and Jill is like “wow, how rad on a scale of one to ten?” and the angel is all “well, you know how the Philistines are arseholes?” and Jill says “yes but why are we having this conversation entirely through the medium of rhetorical questions?” and the angel is like “getting real for a sec, your kid is going to be really instrumental in the freeing of the Israelites from the Philistines, and God thinks that your womb is the only womb for the job.”

Jill, being something of an amateur historian, is like “but didn’t God basically deliver the Israelites into the hands of the Philistines to teach them a lesson about worshipping him properly?” and the angel waves his hand airily and says “let bygones be bygones, Jill, and listen closely to my advice, because this pregnancy isn’t something you can navigate by the weighty tomes of My Baby Body and Me” and Jill is like “you mean I can’t just eat ice cream for nine months and make my husband give me foot massages?” and the angel is like “no, you can totally do that, but you also have to abstain completely from drinking any wine” and Jill is like “pretty sure that advice is in every baby textbook ever” and the angel says “also your son must never drink wine or cut his hair, because them’s the Nazirite rules” and Jill is like “OK, I totally hear you, but also I think I should probably tell my husband” and the angel is like “good luck explaining why your son’s hairstyle is going to be dictated by God forever” and fucks off.

When Jill tells Manoah about the day’s events, his first reaction is basically “holy shit, have you been partaking of the fruits of the vine because seriously, you sound like my uncle at a wedding” and Jill is like “fucking Hell, fine, I’ll get the angel to come back and tell you himself” and Manoah nods sagely and says “it’s for the best, Jill, I need to hear this news from the lips of a man or it means nothing to me as a Biblical male figure” and Jill gives him the middle finger and stomps off to mope in a field.

Eventually, the angel returns and Jill is like “for fuck’s sake, I specifically asked that you went to speak to my husband. Men” and she goes to find Manoah, and when Manoah gets there, he asks the angel what the frickety frack paddlewhack is going on. The angel just sort of looks at Manoah and says “dude, didn’t your wife tell you?” and Manoah looks really sheepish and he’s like “she said some shit about having a baby and not drinking wine and also that maybe he would ultimately save the Israelites from being enslaved by the Philistines, but you know. Women” and the angel just nods sagely and says “women” and then he high fives Manoah and Jill just sort of wonders why she’s even here at all, apart from her womb. Then Manoah burns some meat and the angel disappears and everything is absolutely stellar.

So, Jill gives birth to her radical baby and she names him Samson, and like a good Biblical mother, she does all the shit that she’s supposed to do. She doesn’t let him drink wine, even when he’s like “but mum, all my friends are drinking in the park and I don’t want to be that teetotal loser at a party who can’t get any girls”, and she doesn’t cut his hair even when he’s like “but mum, all my friends have got really cool hairstyles with, like, shaved bits, and I look like Tarzan on a gap year” and everything is fine. Samson drinks his milk and grows up to be big and strong.

Except he’s not just big and strong; he’s essentially like Dwayne Johnson if Dwayne Johnson were allowed to grow wild and untamed, unrestrained by the casting conventions of Hollywood. Dude can lift mountains. No, literally. He is physically capable of lifting mountains. He really is that strong. He makes the cast of The Expendables look like Jesse Eisenberg. I cannot exaggerate this dude’s strength.

Many years pass, and honestly, I don’t even have time to go into all the cool shit that Samson does in these years. Those are rad stories for another time. But basically, all you need to know is that after a few years spent absolutely bloody sticking it to the proverbial Philistine Man through a series of incredibly macho events that would make the RSPCA quiver with rage, such as tearing a lion apart with his bare hands and eating honey from its corpse, killing 1,000 men with the jawbone of a donkey, and setting 300 foxes on fire and destroying all the crops in sight, Samson ends up right at the top of the Philistines’ carefully composed list of ‘People We Don’t Like Very Much and Would Subsequently Quite Like to Dispatch in a Series of Creative Ways, Possibly Involving Maiming and / or Mutilation’. It’s a long list.

As well as being at the top of this list, Samson also finds himself in the valley of Sorek, which just so happens to be the hometown of an absolutely smokin’ lil piece named Delilah. Delilah, who happens to be the only woman gifted with a name in this entire story, is basically the Biblical Marilyn Monroe. She’s all curvaceous of bod and lustrous of hair, and her dimples do this really alluring thing when she smiles at that joke you just told, the one about your job that you always worried wasn’t actually that funny but Delilah seems to find hilarious – and now she’s playing footsie with you under the table and looking up at you from under her lashes and telling you that you should be a comedian, and the next thing you know, you’re two condoms short of a packet and your wallet’s missing, but you don’t even mind because you learnt things about your body that you never knew.

Anyway, Samson meets Delilah at Sorek, and immediately he’s just like “right, well, I know I have a history of making terrible choices with women, and my last wife betrayed me to the Philistines and then married my best friend and tried to convince me to marry her sister instead, but I have a feeling that this woman is The One. I think it’s the heaving bosom that’s done that, honestly” and Delilah just sort of flutters her eyelashes and says “you’re so big and so strong, Samson, let us be wed immediately, and I promise you that I definitely won’t ever make good on that really obvious foreshadowing, 100% honest intentions up in here” and Samson just looks at the plush curve of her cupid’s bow and says “I absolutely accept, let’s marry the fuck out of each other” and they do.

After a few weeks of wedded bliss, Delilah is out doing her weekly shoe shop when she’s approached by a gang of Philistines. She’s all “well, I definitely did not see this coming, this is a complete surprise, I had no idea that Samson was even affiliated with the Philistines in any way, shape or form” and the leader of the Philistines just stares into the molten brown of her eyes and says “we need you to do us a favour” and he does a stellar job of not making any innuendos out of it whatsoever. Delilah puts down her bag of Louboutins and she’s all “boys, I am not that kind of lady, and if you think I’m going to do anything against my husband, then you will be sorely disappointed” but she totally winks theatrically as she says it and the leader of the Philistines is like “well, hypothetically, we definitely wouldn’t be willing to give you a vast amount of money to find out the secret of your husband’s strength” and Delilah is like “how vast a quantity of money would you hypothetically be unwilling to give?” and he’s like “I don’t know, maybe eleven hundred pieces of silver?” and Delilah is like “holy shit, that’s like four pairs of Louboutins, consider me well and truly not at all in but also totally in on your entirely hypothetical plan” and she walks off and one of the Philistines just says “what a woman” and another one hushes him.

When Delilah gets home, she goes up to Samson and she starts playing with one of the seven locks of hair on his head, and she’s like “honey bear, you know how you love me more than anything?” and Samson is like “I do know that actually, what do you want?” and she’s all “well, if you really loved me, you’d tell me what makes you so big and strong and handsome and broad in the shoulder” and Samson is like “oh, well, I can’t really say, but let me just tell you that it would sure be a party pooper if someone were to tie me up with seven green willow branches that have never been dried. Boy, that would really rain on my parade” and Delilah grins seductively and says “I hope no-one ever does that to you, sugar muffin” and then they go to bed.

When Samson wakes up, he finds that he’s been tied to the bed with seven green willow branches, and he’s like “what the fuck, Delilah” and Delilah is like “the Philistines are totally gonna cream your ass now” and Samson just flexes his impressive chest and the branches snap off, like some kind of weird botanic strip tease, and he’s all “they’re going to have to do better than that if they want any dairy related action to occur on these gluteal muscles” and he goes to work.

Later that evening, Delilah sidles up to him and she’s wearing her fanciest lingerie, the set with little bows on the thigh high stockings, and she’s like “baby, if you loved me at all, you’d tell me the truth about your strength” and Samson sighs and he’s all “are we still on this?” and Delilah winks and says “you could be on me if you just told me how to make you weak and puny, purely for trust reasons” and Samson rolls his eyes and says “OK, I lied to you before. The truth is that if someone were to tie me up with new ropes that have never been used, I’d instantly become pastier than Michael Cera” and Delilah cocks her head and says “baby, we should try something new in the bedroom tonight” and then she gets these brand new ropes and ties him up. She’s all “I tricked you good and proper there, the Philistines are gonna have your nuts for breakfast”, but Samson just unties the ropes and he’s like “I don’t think I like bondage much, and you should tell the Philistines that a breakfast with too much protein will unsettle their stomachs” and he goes to sleep.

The next morning, Delilah is like “can you seriously just fucking tell me, because I’m your wife and I need to know your weakness so that I can keep you safe” and Samson is like “but you’ve literally tried everything that you thought would make me lose my strength” and she’s all “yeah, to see if I could trust you, and clearly I can’t because your pecs are still rippling like the goddamn ocean” and Samson is like “well, if I can trust you, then can you promise not to tie my seven locks of hair together while I sleep?” and Delilah is like “why, would that make you puny?” and Samson says “it certainly wouldn’t help with my rigorous fitness regime” and Delilah is all “cross my heart, I won’t tie your locks together”, and then she waits for him to fall asleep and she weaves his hair together, because neither of them have learnt that their marriage is built on nothing but raw sexual magnetism and they should probably see a couples’ counsellor.

When Samson wakes up, he’s just like “goddamn it, Delilah” and he lets his hair down and flexes his guns, and Delilah starts crying and says “I can’t believe you lied to me again, how can we move past this marital issue if you don’t trust me?” and Samson just throws his hands in the air and says “how can I trust you when you keep doing shit like this?” and Delilah is like “I bet you trusted your last wife” and Samson is all “yeah, and she betrayed me to the Philistines” and Delilah blinks a few times and makes a tear fall artfully down her cheekbone, and she says “I would never betray you to the Philistines, baby, you have to remember that I’m not your ex-wife” and Samson takes her sobbing frame in his powerful arms and murmurs “I know, baby” into the crook of her neck, and as she cries, he just whispers “I trust you not to cut my hair, and no jokes this time, this is me taking a leap of faith to save our marriage” and Delilah hiccoughs tearfully and says “for real this time?” and Samson nods and says “for really real” and Delilah manages to make herself smile sadly and says “thank you for trusting me, honey, I promise I won’t cut your hair off while you sleep tonight” and Samson is like “Awesome, I am so glad that we have turned a new chapter in our marriage and I’m not going to wake up bald.”

The next morning, Samson wakes up bald, and his room is full of Philistines and Delilah is standing at the end of the bed with her arms folded across her chest, grinning sardonically, and before he can shout something about the marital bonds of trust having been broken, he’s been captured by the Philistines, having broken his Nazirite oath and lost God’s help, and he’s just like “I think we should try a trial separation, honey” and then this Philistine comes up to him and he’s like “how would you like to try a trial separation from your eyes?” and Samson is like “I’ve considered it thoroughly and no, that is not something that I would be interested in trying” and the Philistine looks back at his boss for instructions on what to do next and his boss just sighs and he’s like “obviously he’s not going to agree, just give him the ocular divorce anyway” and that is a thing that happens, unfortunately. Old Testament is bloody as fuck.

A few years pass, during which Samson is forced to labour for the Philistines, and basically he really regrets his haircut, even though he’s always thought that his jaw would look more chiselled with short hair, which is a hypothesis he is now unable to test due to being blind. One day, a Philistine comes to collect him. He leads him to the temple, which is absolutely jammed full of people, and Samson is like “where are we, because I have an important millstone that needs turning regularly” and the Philistine is like “we’re at the temple where we’re going to offer you to our god, Dagon, because he’s a rad dude and he lets us cut our hair without sapping our strength like a bad marriage” and Samson is like “by ‘offer’, do you mean you’re going to wrap me up with a neat little bow or that you’re going to slaughter me horribly” and the Philistine is like “probably a combination of both, if I’m honest” and Samson is like “brilliant, that all sounds really great and I’d love to participate to the best of my ability, but in order to do that, I think I’ll need a little rest. Would you mind terribly if I just had a little lean against the nearest pillar?” and the Philistine sighs and he’s like “just a small lean, mind” and Samson agrees and he’s like “the tiniest of leans” and the Philistine leads him over to the nearest structural pillar.

While he’s leaning against the pillar, Samson mutters “OK, God, it’s been years and my hair is totally doing its Jason Momoa thing again, so maybe you could cut me some slack on my accidentally breaking the Nazirite oath and give me my strength back?” and God doesn’t say anything, because God is the strong and silent type, but Samson immediately feels his strength flow back into his body, and he turns his face up to the Heavens, towards the sky he could have seen had he not been robbed of sight, and he cries out “let me die with the Philistines!” and he pushes against the pillars with all his might, and with a mighty crash the entire temple falls down and kills everyone inside, including Samson, and Jill’s one-trick womb comes good in the end.

My other retellings can be found here; my dedicated mythology blog is here; and my Mythology Mondays Facebook page is here. The latter two links also allow you to follow my progress in writing a whole actual book. Thrilling.

Disclaimer: there is no proof that God looks any less kindly upon hairdressers whatsoever. Unless you’re a hairdresser who breaks the Nazirite oath, in which case, avoid Philistines.

Keep reading

Number 12.

Prompt: @superunnatural-imagines requested Number 12 from the dialogue list: “Stop saying things that make me want to kiss you.” 

Synopsis: After Mary leaves, both Sam and Dean are shocked. But no one is as upset as Dean. You decide to go and check up on him, using everything you you know about him to help make him feel better.

Words: 1294.

Warnings: You and Dean are both drinking but you’re not drunk, Dean’s pretty down on himself. This takes place after 12x03. (Its Really Cheesy/Fluffy so idk if y’all need this or nah)

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sammy’s in there too!


Originally posted by dustydreamsanddirtyscars

Dean had always told you stories about Mary. He told you everything he remembered about her, from the food she made to the lullabies she sung – which were mostly soft renditions of Hey Jude. From what you heard, she sounded like a wonderful woman. The moment you first met Mary, you felt like you had known her for years, you were able to talk to her as if she was your own mother, and nothing ever felt awkward between the two of you. Sam and Dean had never been happier the first time you all sat for a meal together. Things finally began to feel somewhat normal.

But you never expected Mary to leave. Watching her walk out those doors broke your heart, but seeing Sam and Dean’s expressions, watching Sam’s face fall, seeing Dean step aside as he refused a hug from his mother… You couldn’t describe how it made you feel.

Keep reading

20 Dollar Nosebleed

Warning!: Blood and Violence, Mild Language, Past Child Abuse, Sweat, and Hot Sweaty Making Out because the author is a kinky person

Note: Alternate Universe - Modern, No Powers

Inspired by the Fall Out Boy song “20 Dollar Nosebleed” and Ron Brownz “Gimme 20 Dollars.”


I opened my wallet, put 20 dollars on the bar, then proceeded to smash my palm into the Bitch’s face.

I didn’t know her name, but I did know she had insulted me, Evie, and roped our mothers into it just for fun, and that was why she was now staggering back to her posse clutching a freshly bleeding nose, in shock at the fact that someone had actually taken her up on her challenge, and more so that they knew Krav Maga.

She shrieked at the top of her lungs, and realized too late that that was a bad idea, much to my delight.

Evie was hurt, and on the verge of crying when the Bitch had decided to bring up our less than stellar childhoods and even worse parents, but now she was staring at her in surprise and distress, unable to decide if she should cheer and told her she deserved it, or if she should emphatically wince and apologize for my behaviour.

I grabbed her arm and gently coaxed her off her seat and out of the bar. “C'mon, Evie, let’s go.” I said.

Evie grabbed her purse and followed me without protest. The bartender pocketed my money, wiped off some of the flecks of blood off the counter, and pulled out a thick sheaf of napkins. One of the bouncers stepped behind us, making sure we didn’t turn back and cause yet more trouble.

You could insult me. I was used to people making fun of my shit life to feel better about their shit lives—I had the last laugh anyway, when I actually did something to make things better, unlike them.

You could make fun of Evie, to a certain extent. She was a lot tougher than her cheerful, peppy, sugary personality let on, and I knew she positively hated it when I got in serious trouble for a fight that just wasn’t worth it.

But you could never, ever insult either of our mothers to our faces and get away with it.

It felt good to do it—up until we stepped out the bar’s doors and into the muggy summer night, and I was reminded on why exactly we were spending this night out in this one bar instead of hopping from place to place like we usually did.

“Have a nice evening, ladies.” The bouncer said as they put both hands on the doors.

“You too…” I grumbled, before they pulled them shut and cut me and Evie off from the cool air-conditioning inside.

Normally, we would have sat down on the curb or perched ourselves on the walls of buildings while we decided what to do now, but both were concrete surfaces and would be uncomfortably hot, to say the least. So instead, we stayed near the closed bar doors, silently praying for a long or frequent stream of people coming in or out to let us get a much-needed blast of the cold air inside.

“Sorry for ruining our bar night.” I said as I wiped the sweat and stickiness already forming on my brow. Much to my chagrin, everywhere else on my body would have to wait until I could get home and take a shower.

Evie smiled. “It’s fine.” She reached into her purse and pulled out—mercy of mercies—her wet wipes, in all their bacteria murdering, skin cooling and moisturizing, apple-cinnamon scented goodness. “Thanks for giving that bitch a nosebleed earlier.” She said as she handed it over.

“It’s nothing,” I replied as I started wiping down the parts of myself I could like my arms and face. It wasn’t quite the complete relief from wet, warm, uncomfortable stickiness I wanted, but it would have to do for the moment.

When I’d done all I could do against the oppressive heat and humidity of the night, I checked my wallet again and counted how much cash I had left—it was my turn to pay for our girl’s night out tonight. I quickly learned some unfortunate things: one, I’d brought much less money than I usually would on the assumption that we would stay in the one bar; two, we really should have spaced out the cocktails we’d already had farther apart than we did; and three, though I didn’t regret it, the 20 dollar nosebleed earlier took out a huge chunk of our budget.

We were in the area of the city that charged at the door and laughed heartily at the mere idea of serving dollar drinks; after far too many bad experiences during our college years, we weren’t about to go to the places that only asked for ID at the door and wanted to make sure you were reasonably sober or just buzzed at the worst; and we weren’t about to go pay to go to our usual bars and sit around all night hoping someone else was going to buy us drinks.

I didn’t have the heart to ask Evie if she had any spare cash on her, but ever emphatic, she told me without me needing to. “I’ve got our emergency taxi money and little extra cash just in case,” she said, which I took to mean, “Yeah, our night’s over.”

I cursed quietly; it was hours still till midnight, we couldn’t go home now, because however Pyrrhic of a victory it was, taking a cab back to either of our places meant that the Bitch had successfully ruined our night.But we don’t have much of a choice, do we?’ I thought, since we were effectively broke, and putting our girls’ night out on our cards was just too ‘irresponsible yuppie’ for the both of us.

I was about to break the bad news to Evie, but she was still smiling and hopeful that I just kept my mouth shut. “I know there’s a public park around here—want to go hang out there?” She offered.

“What are we, twelve?” I reflexively snarked back. Evie’s smile turned to a hurt frown. “Uh, sorry about that… knee-jerk reaction.” I was glad she knew me well-enough to understood that I meant it.

Evie smiled again, grabbed my hand, and led me off up the street, going away from all the trendy bars, upscale housing, and upper-middle class boutiques that were slowly taking over this part of the city.

Both our hands were sticky and sweaty from the weather, but somehow, I still thought it felt pretty damn good to be holding hers.

Keep reading

A Stray’s New Home

Part 7

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 68, 9, 10, 11

Fandom: The Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Marichat, Adrinette

Words: 5,948

Summary: Adrien is kept from Marinette by a fashion show. He’s worried what kind of affect it will have on her thoughts and vows to go to her as soon as they land. While he is gone, trouble brews, and he isn’t there to help.

Notes: No excuses, I’ve been sleeping and trying to recover so this was pushed back. More will be coming I promise, I just may be taking longer with the chapters. Thank you to everyone that sent my prompt words to help with my creative process. And I warned you guys these chapters were going to be getting longer.


“Three days?!” Adrien nearly screamed as he stepped out of the limo.

When Nathalie had come to collect him that morning, waking him earlier than usual, he hadn’t given it a second thought. He’d gotten enough sleep to understand that he had to go to a photoshoot and had to leave early—it wasn’t that uncommon of a thing. When he’d found a suitcase already packed in the trunk for him as he’d thrown his bookbag down he’d wondered at luggage, but hadn’t found it odd enough to comment on.

Then they had passed the normal modeling studio and turned on the road for the airport. That’s when he’d become suspicious of this being more than a normal trip. Then Nathalie had told him the truth he had come to try and deny as they’d arrived at the airport.

“Why are we going to be gone for three days? Where are we going? What could possibly be that important?”

His mind was racing. How would he get all of his school work done when he got back? How would he get the school work in the first place? What was this about? Was his father coming? What about the funeral? It was tomorrow!

But his mind mainly went to Marinette. How was he supposed to talk to her? He needed to explain things and talk to her about what happened last night. He couldn’t even imagine what she’d think if he didn’t say a single word to her for three whole days.

Keep reading

Coincidence pt 2

Summary: The reader happens upon Sam Winchester once again, this time in middleschool. Everyone’s favorite years, right? No? Well ok, but it still causes some interesting events

Warnings: Second hand embarrassment (a little) and tons o’ fluff

A/N: Is it cocky to say that I really like this? Because I think it’s adorable tbh. A lot of it is based on my own experiences in middle school, and I want to continue this series. My only question is if you guys want me to as well, because I don’t want to write something no one will read, so let me know!

Also, a * symbol represents a time/scene change

Keep reading

I was raised pretty much entirely without peer group interaction as a child and I’m a pretty extensive childhood abuse and neglect survivor, and I’m also one of the incredibly rare cases of “just leave” working in any way shape or form. And you know what? It was still awful!

When I was 16 I got a job and when I was 17 I bought a plane ticket out of my parents’ lives. I flew back to a state I’d lived in before but into an entirely unfamiliar area. I still remember the insane amount of guilting I went through before getting on the plane. My dad spent a lot of time crying about how no one had ever done anything wrong and he didn’t understand why I was leaving while his mother ignored me for weeks and I walked on eggshells with everyone I knew in my little town because everyone thought I was making the wrong decision. My mom would send me pages long emails about why I should wait two or three years, why I shouldn’t tear my dads family apart (funny because I’d only been with him two years at that point).

Even though I was buying groceries and necessities for myself, even though I was at that point nearly financially and socially independent, they spent three weeks between me buying a plane ticket and leaving doing everything in their power to manipulate me into staying.

I was one of the lucky ones; I got through that, I managed to get away. A lot of people in my circumstance wouldn’t be able to, I’m not sure how I managed beyond sheer terror and adrenaline. I’m the lucky one who hasn’t had to fall back on too much of my parents’ financial stability or housing after I managed to escape (and that’s another huge issue for escaped abuse victims!: the fear of having to ask for help from someone who hurt you because holy shit is it hard to make a living when you’re an abuse survivor!) but many people aren’t. I’m lucky in that I have friends and a partner who have helped with the fall out of coming out of an abusive situation, which there was a lot of.

Leaving isn’t as easy as “just leave” for abuse victims, even if you’re lucky enough to find work and housing away from your abusers and get there without being guilted into staying. It comes with a massive host of issues, fears, anxieties.

Submitter asked to remain anonymous.

wonderful you came by [part 4]

Summary: Caitlin and Barry meet in the most unexpected of places. College AU, Part 4. [Read Part 1Part 2, Part 3, or read on ff.net]

Notes: Hi I AM SO SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! I had a ton of requirements, so I didn’t have the headspace to plan this fic. Anyway, here’s a long update to make up for it. Hope you enjoy.

Rating: T for innuendo

———

After the alcove incident with Barry, Caitlin returned to their dorm room. She tried to dispel memories of their interaction by outlining the lecture she was to give Felicity about not getting her mother worked up with fanciful speculations on her non-existent love life. She supposed that withholding the most recent information on her interactions with Barry would be wise, at least until Felicity’s matchmaking itch faded.

But then, that was as unlikely as sprouting another head, and it really was too much to hope that Felicity would never uncover the latest developments. In fact Caitlin wasn’t ten minutes back in their room when Felicity discovered the jacket.

Keep reading

Tall, Dark and Handsome: Chapter 27
TITLE: Tall, Dark and Handsome

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: 27

AUTHOR tomcuddlesfic

WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: AU Tom / Business Man

GENRE: romance / erotica

FIC SUMMARY: Twenty four year old Amelia Hart has never had a boyfriend before. Not wanting to step outside of her comfort zone, she rarely starts conversations with the opposite sex and makes little to no effort in correcting her single status. However, what she did not plan was meeting a man who manages to steal her breath away at every look. A man who does not stop until he gets what he wants. And the one thing he only wants right now just so happens to be her.

RATING FOR THE WHOLE FIC: M

Author’s notes: Oh hello. This is another chapter. Sorry for the wait and I’m sorry if it’s not really what you expected it to be. I would love to hear what you think :) 

Chapter 1 |  Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 |Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 |  Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | chapter 12 | Chapter 13  | Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16  | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 |Chapter 21 |Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24   | Chapter 25  | Chapter 26 [Sept 1st 2014]

Keep reading

Arrow Fic: Caveat Dator 1/1

Caveat Dator
Author: dettiot
Rating: Soft M?  Hard T?  Eye of the beholder.
Summary:  Oliver regrets giving Felicity a million dollars.  Because those dresses.  Set early season 2.
Author’s Note: Inspired by a conversation with @adiwriting.  Title means “Beware, donor”–i.e., you made your bed, Oliver, now you get to sleep in it.  Only lightly edited, so please forgive any rough patches.  Thanks for reading!

XXX

At the time, lost in a haze of grief and guilt and shame, giving Felicity and Digg a million dollars each was about showing them, in the only way he could, how important they were to him.  Although honestly, if he was to show them the true depth of his feelings for them, it would have taken much more than a million apiece.  But he knew that neither of them wanted the money and would feel like he was going too far.  After a while, though, once they realized that he was really gone and he wasn’t coming back, he figured they would stop being angry with him and would accept the gift.  Enjoy the money to make their lives easier.  
Oliver never thought he would see how they had spent the money.  On a new lair, brighter and more efficient and better than the haphazard setup he had thrown together.  On a new bow, custom-made, with everything he could have asked for in a bow.

And God help him, he did not think he would see the kind of clothes Felicity would buy if money was no object.  If only he had known.

When they had first met, he had noticed that Felicity’s sense of style was quirky.  The funky sweaters and cardigans, the bright mismatching nail polish, the flat shoes with panda bear faces on them … well, he liked it, but he also recognized that it let people get an impression of Felicity.  An impression that let them underestimate her.  To see her as young and inexperienced.  Perhaps he fell into that trap, too.  After all, he had been taken aback when on the Dodger case, Felicity had shown up in that gold sequin dress, displaying legs that he did not notice, a face perfectly made up and sans glasses, her hair falling in chunky curls that his fingers itched to touch.

But after that, she went right back to the sweaters and bright pants and panda bear flats, and he had made himself forget that gold dress.  

He shouldn’t have forgotten it.  He should have kept Felicity in that gold dress front and center in his mind, to prepare himself.  Although was there any way to prepare for one Felicity Megan Smoak, stomping toward him with fire in her eyes and very high heels on her feet, her hair almost as sleek as the form-fitting gray dress she was wearing?  

Short answer: there wasn’t.

Keep reading

"Ih is the most developed ship in the series" (¬▂¬)

i thought i’m out of fuel bc i have expended all that energy grieving dramatically over ukitake’s death and the atrocity that was ch685, but no. NO ONE agreed with me about ch685, how i hated everything from ukitake’s undeserved death, renji’s ugly braids, rukia’s ugly mullet which aizen and tatsuki had worn before, but i don’t care. I DONT CARE

I didnt think i could say any more shit about this manga and its fandom but i saw an enormous wall of vomit from an ih fan on how their boat is the “most developed ship in the series”

…..This is such a daring fib, it simply beggars belief. I KNOW that the majority of shippers in this dastardly fandom are all after ichigo’s king oyster mushroom, but surely, u do understand that your “ih ship” doesnt have a single role in any of the “rain chapters”, which are so integral to the story? U do understand that the theme of destiny is also responsible for the marital union between isshin and masaki? That when u joked about aizen having orchestrated the encounter between ichigo and rukia, and that the ir ship is not meant to be developed, u were also ridiculing the chance meeting between ichigo’s parents, which was ~also~ orchestrated by aizen? Do u silly ih fans not realise any of this?

Your “ih ship” has neither a single foothold in the rain chapters, “memories in the rain 1″ and “memories in the rain 2″, given solely to ichigo and rukia, nor do you even have a role to play in the theme of destiny, nor in the sand and rotator “prologue” chapters, all of which talked about the perspectives of two souls from different worlds going through similar pains and experiences in the rain, whose lives are completely changed anew through their fateful encounter - an encounter that set off various events in the story. Holy fck this shit is so repetitive i am so sick of this already but the ir ship is kubo’s most fundamental pairing, his most well-established relationship. What does ih have? Ih has some gurl frolicking around in a titty dress, and spent some time fighting beside ichigo. That’s it. Idk mate, this dude spent 17 months with this gurl around and he was still hung up on rukia.

kubo has made a horrifying amount of bad decisions in his career and has a record of absolutely bad writing ( I CAN GO FOREVER ABOUT THE SHIT HE HAS DONE TO MY FAVES LIKE UKITAKE, GIN, AND KIRA ETC. ETC. FCKING BITTER FOREVER), but making ih canon would be the craziest and worst decision in the entire history of bleach. Worst decision, you ask? Yes, worst decision. As it was kubo himself, and NOT IR fans – he is the one who reminds people again and again that ichigo and rukia are the pillars of this story. Kubo sucks at writing an extensive shounen plot - yes he sucks - but philosophy, poetry, romanticism, parallelism are some basic shit he likes.

xxxhime has NO place in the theme of destiny and fate. She doesn’t belong in the rain chapters and she is negligible in the sand and rotator chapters. She couldn’t affect ichigo the way rukia could, she also knew she couldn’t affect him the way she herself wanted to. She has nothing except her so-called “love” for him. So-called? Bc up until the fb arc she became flustered while thinking he’s “so hot” when he invited her into his house. This “love” is so shallow. She has had no internal conflict or pain that needed to be resolved by ichigo, unlike ichigo and rukia - both of whom have torn down each other’s barriers and enabled the other to be free.

Kubo himself said he does whatever he likes. He had drawn tits and asses as he wished. He had drawn fcking boring espadas and sternritters as he wished. He had done EVERYTHING shit he pleased for 15 years and yet when it comes to IR, these mofrs ihs cry, “it is bc he was forced to do it!!!” If he had wanted to do origo, he would have given the rain chapters to xxxhime, not rukia. It is the easiest way to tie the connection between two souls. If he wanted to do origo, he would have shown his readers how important xxxhime is to ichigo. But he has never done it. Not once.

Speaking of how important xxxhime is to ichigo — in ch678 — this chapter is so fcking recent. ichigo was actually proven to have shown great despair during the moment rukia was taken away. it was ranked second to the incident when his mother died. If xxxhime had meant so much, then why not show the moment when he had to go save xxxhime? There is no excuse to show this so recently and have this whole manga gone down the gutter any further by having an ih ending.

i don’t know what is it about orgs that they have this ability to tune out noise they don’t want to hear, even though they really have nothing significant. they cling onto their titties and several chapters of panel time in this arc, which bloated their confidence. And irs can’t do that? irs can’t tune out noise they dont want to hear? blech isnt about ichigo and xxxhime. it is about ichigo and rukia. even if it is an open ending, the majority of japanese fans will take it as an ir ending. 

Srsly ih won’t be canon unless kubo has really gone off his rocker and is fcking mick jagger or whatever

Camp Mountainpine

Cophine Summer Camp AU. Cosima gets busted for possession and makes a deal. Forced into 8 weeks of being a camp counselor at a charity sponsored camp for orphans, Cosima can’t think of anything worse she could be doing, until she runs into an old childhood friend. OK so that was the official summary. Unofficial summary: Cophine sneaking around camp together for secret sexy time.

Ok guys so this is just something I’ve been messing with the last week or so. I’m not trying to ignore any of the other stories, this has just been invading my brain and I had to get it out. There’s kind of a cameo from a certain goth girl from another series but it’s not that I’m trying to do a crossover, it’s more my laziness and not wanting to spend time developing a side character, so don’t question it.

Keep reading