i am dead set on pointing out the number of days we have left

anonymous asked:


it was,,,,,, so fucking good. i just need to rant for a bit about so many aspects of this video because like not only was it genuinely so funny and original and creative, it was just SO WELL MADE. there were so many small details about it that i couldn’t even believe.  they put so much actual effort into it and they’re also both so naturally funny when it comes to this kind of humor. ahhhh there were so many good things to talk about that i hardly know where to begin or like how to even organize my thoughts so just like,,, be ready bc this is about to be the most incoherent ramble 

first of all. dnp work so well together. i mean. we know this, we see it all the time. but there’s a lot of humor in the crafts videos that is just completely improvised within the larger pre-planned structure/concept. and they bounce off each other SO well in this setting (maybe even better than they do in many of their normal collabs, at least from a comedic standpoint.) i think a lot of this has to do w the fact that the satirical cheeriness of the “characters” that they play, that is over-emphasized to the point of being creepy, just lends itself really well to so many amazing one-liners. but also they just have such good chemistry that is so readily apparent in this context,,, it makes me emotional. they consistently set each other up for jokes, if one person improvises a certain action or behavior the other goes along with it or reacts to it immediately and that’s a mark of rly well-practiced entertainers but also two people who know each other really well and i love watching it play out.

i also do have to acknowledge that they are both fundamentally quite talented. all three of the craft videos are examples of really genuinely witty humor and they showcase that side of dnp so well. both of them also have such a good sense of comedic timing and even an intuition for physical comedy and they’re also rly creative with how they edit these videos and the union of all of those elements is what makes these videos so good in my opinion. while i believe dan’s explanation that the first crafts video was filmed quite spontaneously without much of a plan (and that’s why it’s super short and not as funny as the latter two imo), i do think they put a lot of thought and effort into this one which is quite clear through many of the details they worked into the video both during the filming itself and then afterwards in the editing. first of all the overall concept of them being taken by satan as a culmination of the extremely subtle creepy undertones from the first one is just so smart bc no one would expect them to take it that far and the total hyperbolic unlikeliness of it is what makes it so damn funny. i think most ppl were expecting when dan said he’s keeping his stamp a secret that it would just be some sort of satanic symbol like what happened in the glitter faces vid but like,,, no one thought it’d escalate to where it did. it was so unexpected and over the top but somehow still not overdone or so forced as to dilute the comedy. it synthesized humor with genuinely unsettling creepiness and that is such a difficult balance to achieve. 

you can tell they put a lot of thought into it on so many levels. for instance they worked in all these rly subtle allusions to satan himself before the weird ritual scene happens, like dan saying “this one’s long with a big head like him” (ty for describing satans cock to us dan jfc) and phil saying “i’ve selected as many knives as friends i have, which is two.” then even during the ritual scene they work in things like the cow noise since a common satanic symbol is a horned deity (baphomet lol). and in their new channel description they use the case file name 19-1-20-1-14 which decodes to the word “satan” if you use a basic letter-number cipher (in which each number stands for the letter that is that position in the alphabet. ’s’ is the 19th letter, ‘a’ is the first, and so on.) and there are so many other little editing quirks that give this video that unsettling undertone, as well as editing quirks that add to the comedy of it and it’s all just so well done. for example the voice editing on certain words like “sharp” and “go away.” the audio overlays of heavy breathing at various points and random cuts to black screens. the use of creepy music at strategic places throughout. at 4:36 they recorded themselves saying protip backwards just to reverse it and they even spell out the “protip” text backwards, seemingly both as a way to shit on the whole ‘protip’ trope from the last vid and also to make fun of the way that satanists/conspiracy theorists think there are hidden messages in popular songs and shit that u can only hear if u play the audio backwards. ugh i hate them and their many layers of references. phil also references this again during the ritual part, when dan lights the match (he just goes “portip” “portip” as though he’s trying to say it backwards lol.) and then they fuck around w the word protip throughout the video almost like they’re making fun of it. there’s also definitely a subtle pitch manipulation of their voices as the video progresses. by the end they sound like they’ve sucked on a little bit of helium but it happens gradually enough that you’re just a little bit put off and you can’t really place why. then there’s the little comedic touches like the siren sound when “carefully” flashes across the screen. the fact that the legal disclaimer for adult supervision is cut off at the sides. the zoom in on the fleck of green paint that lands on dan when phil’s pouring it into the plate. ugh like damn i just want to make the point that they clearly put work into this and on face value it seems like a shoddy home video w a weird satanic ending but there’s a reason this works so well and feels so creepy and simultaneously laugh out loud funny and it’s bc they’re genuinely talented and we don’t always get to see that creative talent at work in their standard formulas for videos on their regular channels so i’m just so grateful that they made something like this where it seems like they allow themselves to exercise more of that creative energy. it begs a lot of questions about why they don’t do shit like this more,,,  and i think there are a number of reasons they feel safe and happy making what they generally make now but i’m jst so happy that at least in these videos they’ve branched out and done something so creative and good.

on that note. i just need to ramble about phil. i don’t think anyone can dispute that phil really carries these videos and partly that’s because he’s been in the role of the “teacher” in all three videos so he inevitably comes across as more dominant and sets the tone for the humor, but also like,,, he just works so well in this style and comes up with such spontaneous and WITTY little remarks that inevitably become the standout lines from each vid (in this one, for example, “potato is in my top ten favorite fruit,” “sometimes it’s nice to look up at the stars and remember that they’re all already dead,” “if you make a mistake while cutting just think about it for the rest of the day,” etc. and one of my fav from the past, “if you’re left handed ask a friend” (d: why am i left handed) “everybody makes mistakes!”) he also seems to improvise a lot of the physical comedy in the videos (in this one, the way he just stared at the paint as he squeezed it out for way too long, the way he threw around the cutting boards and plates, the way he did the chopping; and in past ones, slamming his hands on the paper and on dan’s hands when mixing the glitters, clacking the scissors super loudly in the first one, etc.) i just love these videos so much bc they’re some of the only ones that we have these days where phil is really doing most of the comedic legwork and dan definitely helps and bounces off of him but mostly lets phil take charge and i live for it. and while there’s obvi no way to tell who rly did the editing for the video (and i’m sure it was a mix of both of them) there’s no denying that the editing style and general creepiness (especially of the ritual sacrifice scene lol) bear a lot of similarities to the feeling/vibe/editing quirks in a lot of phil’s old school videos (i’m thinking like tape 6 and the basket which, if any of you reading these have not watched, please just open a tab right now and do that before you finish reading this lol.) the choppy way the different clips are spliced together in the whole ritual scene (where one second dan is stamping phil, then lighting a match and chanting, then phil’s chanting, then he’s slumped over and then there are two videos overlaid on top of each other when dan is actually stamping phil’s back and then the sudden cut to black) it’s all so reminiscent of those older videos and it does make me feel like phil had a larger creative hand in thinking about how this video should be put together and that just makes me so happy to think about. i’ve always wondered what phil does w his self-professed obsession with horror and his interest in violence and psychological thrillers and whatnot, as well as his former academic/critical study of filmmaking. it makes sense that he doesn’t feel comfortable exploring those interests by making things himself in this genre in a real way and especially not on youtube because his self-described objective through this platform is to provide his audience with light and uplifting entertainment. more pragmatically, he’s trying to make a living from this job and hold somewhat broad-based appeal through the videos he makes and it makes sense that lighter content that doesn’t require too much intellectual rigor would fare better and hold more consistent audience engagement. and more personally, making things on the level of tape 6, even years later w more familiarity with editing and whatnot and perhaps more skill in writing scripts/characters/plots, still would involve a certain degree of personal emotional vulnerability that the current amazingphil format doesn’t demand. in short, venturing into these territories creatively would be a risk on a lot of levels. it would invite more formal critique of his work. it would invite more people trying to read into who he is and his psyche (which are things that i feel like he’s actually terrified of and that’s part of why he’s built such a protective barrier against it). it would be a risk and it makes sense that he doesn’t want to take it, at least not right now. but it’s just lovely to see that he still has the capacity to make things in the vein of those older videos and to make them WITH DAN and mix them with comedy which i need to reiterate is such a hARD THING TO DO!!!! and  idk it just rly makes me so happy to watch and to think about. 

i love phil so much, and none of this is meant to dilute dan’s role since i’m sure he did inform some of the decisions here, but i just think that dan as phil’s biggest fan (since 2007 y’all) would feel many of these same things about phil’s older content and support phil’s desire to engage that darker creative energy/talent he has hiding under all of those layers of syrupy happiness and amiability. i love that this is sort of an update to that vintage dark!phil content bc it’s the same dark undertones, same editing quirks, etc. but now it’s mixed with rly cheeky humor and maybe that’s dan’s influence or maybe it’s still phil, but a phil that has shared his life w someone w this particular irreverent and sarcastic sense of humor for so many years and this video shows the confluence of those two things in such a lovely and original way and just,,,, ugh. this video was so much and i loved it SO much. truly so, so good i was not prepared to feel so many deep-seated Emotions over some god damn satanic propaganda i need help. 

(danandphilcrafts - potato prints)

“The Hunt” Casifer x Reader

Words: 2,065

Casifer (Lucifer) x Reader

Request: Can I request a reader x casifer one shot where he and the Winchesters get injured on a hunt (the reader stayed behind to do research). And when they come back the reader helps patch them up but casifer gets very jealous that she is helping/touching/paying attention to the Winchesters?

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, wounds from getting hurt, talk of sex, jealous lucifer, implied smut

Originally posted by cassammydean

“Please tell me you’ve found something useful.” Dean mumbles over the phone, sounding slightly drunk. You can hear people in the background talking loudly, indicating that they may be at a bar.

“I’m not finding anything in the books. I don’t know. You need to give me more time.” You groan, flipping to the next page of the lore books.

Sam, Dean, and Lucifer (who was currently preoccupying Castiel’s body) were out on a hunt. Lucifer demanded to be taken along, since he was a “viable member of the group.” They got to the place where the killings have been happening yesterday, and you know that Lucifer is driving them crazy. Dean has barely any patience when it comes to that man, and it’s leading to both him and Sam rushing you to figure out what it is that they’re hunting. They’ve only been gone one day and Dean is already overly annoyed with Lucifer.

“Just please hurry, alright? I can’t- I swear to god, I don’t even care that you’re occupying Castiel’s body right now, you need to fucking stop or I will stab you.” Dean hisses at Lucifer, making you giggle slightly. “Y/N, figure it out, or I’m making him stay with you while we do this hunt.”

“He’s not that bad. You need to be nice- he’s helping us with Amara, after all.” You roll your eyes even though you know he can’t see it. “But, yes, I will pick up the pace. I’ll call you once I figure it out.”

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Where It All Started

You and Norman Reedus are on a podcast, retelling of the time you two met.

Author’s note; This is a little different, so I hope you guys like it.

  • Norman Reedus
  • 1415 Words
  • Warnings: some cursing

The interviewer, Jessica Daily, holds up her fingers and counts down to one, indicating that the podcast was about to start. As she pulls down her last finger, you feel the butterflies swarm your stomach and you start to second guess this whole idea. After all, Norman Reedus has some pretty ridiculous fans out there.

“Hello, hello! Welcome back to our podcast—“ Jessica’s co-star, Vinny starts them off with their usual greeting, allowing you to have a few seconds to try and talk yourself back into this thing. You promised Norman weeks ago when this interview was set up, there was no going back now.

“We are here with Norman Reedus, our very own Daryl Dixon of The Walking Dead. Norman, how are you today?” Jessica asks, smiling over at your boyfriend with her bright white teeth and fake lips.

Norman smiles and lets go of your hand so he could use his own to speak. He lifts his hands in the air and straightens out his hat with a Daryl Dixon crossbow on the front. “Good! I’m good. Hello, everyone. How is the wonderful Jessica and Vinny?” He asks, clearly recalling the first interview he had with them several years ago for one of his movie roles, back before either of them were really popular.

You’re quiet for the first bit, letting Norman talk his way through The Walking Dead’s recent season and how his new show, Ride, has been doing on AMC. The questions were kept short, you knew why. The real reason behind his interview was you.

Sure enough, only ten minutes into this hour long podcast, Jessica brings up the current situation: “Now… Norman, I see you have brought a special guest with you today.”

Norman smiles brightly and he throws his arm around your neck whilst leaning into the mic and saying, “I have! This girl has been seen with me for a while now. She’s actually going to be a pretty regular guest on Ride starting in the new season. This is Y/N.”

“Hey, everyone.” You squeak, giving a small wave as if anyone could actually see you.

“Isn’t she just the cutest? I’m sure most of you have seen her on social media and wasn’t she in an episode of Walking Dead?” Vinny asks with his head slightly tilting.

Norman chuckles and shakes his head in a slow manner. “Actually, that’s only a rumor created by me. I have been trying to get her on the show for a while now as a zombie or something. She helps behind the scenes, though.”

“And… have you actually told how you two met? I heard it was a pretty unique story.” Jessica questions. You’re feeling a little cornered, but you promised.

You smile and nod your head, hoping the nerves would go away soon. “Yeah, actually. It was a pretty funny story, too. See, I had tickets to a con that Norman was going to be at. Bought tickets just to meet him and take a picture. But he was actually late and his photo op was going to be pushed back several hours, which meant I wasn’t going to make it. I had other plans and had to leave.” You start explaining, realizing this may not be as bad as you originally thought.

Norman grins at you, giving you a nod to continue.

“So I went up to some of the convention workers that were setting up schedules and told them to give my tickets to someone who needed them since reselling was bad. They were a little touched and told me this little girl came up, crying, and asked if there were any tickets left because her parents couldn’t afford them.”

There was a moment pause when Jessica went “awwwwe.”

“And I told them I wanted to meet the little girl and give them to her. So they took me over to her and she was so happy for a good three minutes, until she realized I was just giving away both my tickets and wouldn’t meet Norman with her. That’s when one of the men told me Norman actually arrived just a second ago and was willing to meet with both of us right then because he was touched someone just gave their tickets away.”

Norman clears his throat and leans into the mic. “I’d like to add that I was only late because my plan was delayed by two hours, but we ended up leaving after an hour and that’s why I was early. I wasn’t—I wasn’t being a douchebag.”

You giggle. “There are always problems at conventions.”

“Well, yeah.” Norman laughs. Every time he laughs, you know it’s genuine. He puts his soul into it, which makes it a beautiful thing. “But, yeah. I asked the guys if they could bring the girls back to meet them. I felt like  I was more honoured to meet them then they were meeting me. But they brought them over and I remember being so floored by her beauty.”

“He says now.” You joke. “No, but they brought us back there and we talk for a bit. Like, they told us we could only see him for thirty minutes, which quickly turned into an hour and I think after the little girl left, we actually spent another thirty minutes talking, didn’t we?” You glance at Norman for confirmation.

Norman nods, playing with his beard absentmindedly. “Yeah, yeah. And then I gave her my number and invited her to the after party. Because you had to have tickets for that, which she didn’t. And she tells me she has dinner plans with some old friends . At which point I am a little hurt that she picked her friends over me.” Norman places his hand over his hurt and fakes a sniff.

The other two laugh as you shove Norman, nearly pushing him right off the seat. “Ass. I did end up going to the party. And we talked for a long time. I think the party was actually over when we went back to our hotels.” You continue.

“I think we ended up talking on the phone the next day, too. Didn’t we?” Norman glances at you, leaning back into that mic. Vinny makes a point to motion Norman back a little bit, which Norman ignores.

“No, it was several days later. I get a call and it’s Norman. He’s on his way to the set for a day of hanging out and he wanted to know if I would come hang out with him. I couldn’t that day, but I believe I called out of work and ended up going the next day and stayed for what?” You look at Norman. His ocean blue eyes staring back at you like it was the first time he was seeing you. It made your stomach flutter around and goosebumps to rise up on the back of your neck. You two smile at each other.

“Five days? In a hotel that I paid for.” Norman chuckles. “For at least three days. And the other two I said fuck it and told her she was staying with me. And that’s pretty much where we became attached.”

“What a fairy tale.” Jessica chortles.

“Right? This doesn’t happen, ever. So don’t get your hopes up, ladies.” You warn with your own laugh.

“Does the age difference bother you at all?” Vinny questions.

Norman was the first to answer. “Not at all. I don’t really like to think about age and looks. Honestly, I fall for the strangest shit. I think what got me at first was her style and that day she was wearing this bright ass green lipstick. I was like ‘hell yah, she’s weird.’”

“Age is a number.” You shrug your shoulders and pull Norman’s hat off, which he was playing with too much, and stuck it on your own head. “We’re happy. And this one acts younger than me. I think it makes up for it.”

“Hey!” Norman laughs.

“You watch cartoons and eat ice cream every night.” You smirk, proving your point.

Norman grumbles then agrees. “She’s right….”

“That is all the time we have, thank you guys! We have been wanting to hear this story for weeks and we heard it first; Norman Reedus is happily taken.” Jessica wraps everything up by waving her finger around in a circle.

“Thank you for having us.” Norman smiles and leans back in his seat for the first time.

Soulmates Part. 1

I know! I know! @inukag-week already ended but it’s because of @keichanz that I ended up with too many feelings to leave this alone!

So this ended up happening. It was supposed to be a oneshot but it was getting too long XD

This is for you @inukag-4ever because you are awesome and I love you! Happy belated birthday!!

Summary:  Every person has a Soulmate, with whom they share an unique bond, they can feel each other’s feelings and the closer they are to each other the stronger it gets. Inuyasha and Kagome share a strong bond imposible to ignore. Inuyasha is looking for his Soulmate. Kagome is doing everything she can to avoid finding hers.

In FF.net and Ao3 too :D

Kagome looked at her best friends being lovey-dovey on her couch as she tried to remember why she had to invite them over.  She sighed. Right, they had invited themselves over.

Narrowing her eyes she tried to recall the reason why she was supposed to withstand their not-so-secret looks and caresses. She understood the reason why they were like that. They were Soulmates. Yep, capital S and everything, the real deal. And they had been apart for almost a year when Miroku went to the US in a exchange student program and he had just come back a week ago.

“I’d appreciate if you could stop pretending I can’t see where your hands are NOT…” Kagome said before sipping from her cold tea.

Sango smiled a little embarrassed as she separated herself from her boyfriend to occupy the second seat in the couch, that until that moment had remained untouched by the couple. Miroku on his part smiled quite smugly before raising his hand in an apologetic manner.

“I’m sorry we made you uncomfortable, Kagome. We still lose track of what’s around…” he turned to brush a lock from Sango’s face and tuck it behind her ear. “We haven’t get used to the pull being this strong…”

Kagome rolled her eyes. If she didn’t say something soon they were going to get lost in each other again.

Clearing her throat, she said excessively sweet, “So you wanted me to help you to do what exactly?”

Miroku looked at Kagome again. He didn’t stop touching Sango, his hand moved from her face to one of her hands as he focused his attention on Kagome. “I need your help finding a good place for a friend of mine.”

The woman in front of him nodded interested, her demeanor changing from annoyed to business-like. Miroku smiled. She wasn’t one of the best realtors in the city just because of her looks. She was a very intelligent woman and charming too… when she wanted at least.

Kagome took the note pad that was on the stand beside her chair and started to take notes. “Very well, what kind of house is he looking for?”

Miroku shrugged “He has no money problems, so you can show him all the great places you said I had no business even looking at… And he has a dog so you need to take that in consideration… let me think what else.”

Kagome wrote on her notepad before looking at him with narrowed eyes and an arched brow “I told you that because you said you wanted the cheapest you could get but you wanted mirrors on the ceiling, a pool and jacuzzi… all of those things in an apartment.” Kagome deadpanned at her shamelessly grinning friend.  

“Sorry. Champagne tastes on a beer budget…” Miroku shrugged again as the two women smiled and shook their heads.

“So, do you have any more information about what he wants?”

Miroku shook his head as he searched for something inside his pocket and gave it to her.

“This is his contact…”

Kagome reached for the piece of paper and read it out loud. “Inuyasha Takahashi. E-mail: the.Inugami@gmail.com and his phone number. The guy lives by his name, huh.”

Miroku chuckled “You have no idea…”

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Kiss It Better

Sitting in the hospital lobby, you caught Dr. Hiddleston’s attention on his way to work. Blissfully unaware of your condition, you turned down his help in the first place. When push came to shove, the British intensivist did not leave your bedside.

Rating: R18+
Fandom: Tom Hiddleston
Prompt: Imagine Tom Hiddleston is you doctor and you are in critical condition and he has an overwhelming desire to cure you. He checks up on you every 2 hours to see if you’re doing alright. And sometimes you pretend you’re asleep and he bends down and kisses you on the forehead and lips. 
Pairing: Doctor!Tom Hiddleston x Reader
Type: Reader insert, one-shot, fluff, angst, sic fic, hurt/comfort
Date: 27th March, 2017
Words: 4673
Warnings: [TW: graphic description of medical conditions and procedures, detailed description of the reader’s critical condition, needles, panic attack] The rating and the warnings are due to the reader developing a diabetic ketoacidosis, a potentially life-threatening complication of diabetes mellitus type one. A huge part of the story plays at an Intensive Care Unit.
A/N: That imagine by @clairelouiseisawesome has been nibbling at my brain for a long time. The GIF by @satanslifecoach got the ball rolling.
Beta’d: @outside-the-government

Originally posted by satanslifecoach

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Always a Bridesmaid, Never a Bride [J-Hope]

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader
Genre: Fluffity fluffity fluff it’s all fluff and also bad humor
Word Count: 3320
Description: Who knew blind dates could go so RIGHT?

Author’s Note: wahey somehow all my latest fics have been hobi fics…coincidence? i think not. ANYWAYS it’s my faves birthday and i just love him so much so i avoided all my work and everything to write this i mean iw ould have avoided work anyways but whaTERVER THE POINT IS THAT I LOVE HIMA LOT A LOT A LOT i hope he has the nicest day and he knows that he is amazing and beautiful on the inside and the out and that he eats a lot of cake and gets a lot of compliments and presents..he is just so lovely..i love him sosososo much…,,,, now pls..enjoy my bad humor fic

“It’s not like I’m the bride,” you mutter, wedging your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you pick at a knot in your hair, making a face to yourself in the mirror as you feel how rough and matted your hair is. Your head is killing you, and all you want is to go back to bed, but apparently cake tasting is more important that you feeling like absolute death, and “Jesus, [Name], you knew we were going to choose a cake today, so I don’t give two shits about your stupid hangover and how you brought it on your own incompetent-at-drinking ass, but you are coming unless you want me to scream in your ear” so you’d just need to pop an aspirin (or, like, six) before you left.

“I know you’re not the bride, but I am, and I want all my bridesmaids to have a date.” You sigh, and Jiyeon tuts on the other end of the call. “Also you put yourself down with a plus one, and we’ve already set all the tables,” she whines.

You drop the length of knotted hair, and grab your hair in handfuls instead, shoving it into a messy, drooping knot, and picking up your toothbrush. “That was before my horrible, dreadful, bad breakup with my shitty, cheating, asshat of a boyfriend you, my dear, dear friend, promised to never mention, remember?

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Leading Suspects - Chapter 9

“Either you really don’t trust me with your baby or you actually took my advice and banged Sheriff Hot Buns.”

“Would you shut up for two seconds and listen to me? I’m in real trouble here, Jo,” I hiss and wave at Mary Jo Bristel across the parking lot. She shakes her head and returns the wave before climbing into her car.

“He was shitty, wasn’t he? Damn. It’s always the pretty ones who are all talk and no thrust.”

“I didn’t have sex with the Sheriff!” I shout and then cringe because Nelson Harris has halted on the stoop of his general goods store to gawk at me for a moment before he purses his lips and hurries back inside the building that’s in desperate need of a new coat of paint.

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Nine ~ An EXO Series

An EXO murder mystery AU feat. ot9

Not requested

Genre: Suspense, (light) smut 

Member(s): ot9

Summary: (of this series) Fourteen deaths and counting. Nine suspects. One killer. Can you find the killer before he finds you?

A/N: Yeesh. Okay. Every chapter will feature different members, so you’ll eventually get to see your fave :)

WARNINGS: Stalking, violence against women, killing, violence in general. Also, smut.

{Chapter two} {Chapter three} {Chapter four} {Chapter five, coming soon}

As he slowly and painfully removes the large and bloody knife from his ninth victim’s arm, he smirks down at the woman writhing in pain below him on the bed. 

“So pretty,” he says sadistically, pulling her fish net stockings down. Exposing the rest of her body, he pulls the next item from behind him.

A box cutter.

“It’s alright love, you’ll feel really good soon, okay?” when she doesn’t respond, he scoffs. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today, or else I would’ve killed you right then and there.” cutting a deep line down her thigh, the prostitute screams, but is quickly muffled by his hands. “Shhh baby, shhh. The other girls can’t hear you, okay? Can you keep quiet for me?” he says as he draws more blood from her body. Satisfied with the amount of pain she’s in, he unbuckles his jeans and reveals his hard and angry length, before he forces it into her. Without good lubrication, he sighs in frustration. “Bad girl…not wet enough for me.” pulling out, he pulls his pants back up as his anger starts to build. “Get a little wetter for me, hm?” when she shakes her head in whimpers in pain, pleads leaving her mouth, he rolls his eyes.

“Bad girl.” is all he says before he slits her throat, drawing deep red blood from her throat. Getting on the white clean sheets, he clicks his tongue. 

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the song remains the same

[So. I was taking a break from writing an essay and stumbled across a post from @neonlightwood with Jimon prompts here. My brain then decided I absolutely needed to write the first one. Enjoy?]

Okay, so maybe the day had started off a little weirdly.

Not that Raphael was a big talker, usually preferring to intimidate people by giving them the silent and stony treatment, but the conversation had been a lot quieter than usual. He hadn’t told Simon to shut up more than twice, for one, and he kept staring at him in a way that was starting to make him uncomfortable. It reminded him too much of how they had met, when he was still a mundane, taken captive by Camille. Like prey, his brain helpfully supplied, and thank you so much for that, brain.

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Twelfth Christmas

the series is as follows so far:

FirstSecond ThirdFourthFifthFifth Christmas, Part 2SixthSeventhEighthNinthTenthEleventhTwelfthThirteenthFourteenthFifteenthSixteenthSeventeenthEighteenthNineteenthTwentiethTwenty-firstTwenty-secondTwenty-third


It was their first Christmas where not a damn thing was happening. No one was sick, no one was running, no one was dead.

It was very impressive for them.

Everything had come out of storage, which, thankfully, Maggie and Skinner had packed up for them once they’d disappeared. Scully found all her ornaments, her tree, her lights and garland, her stockings and tree skirt. She had wanted to put everything up when they first unpacked at the end of January and perfectly willing, Mulder stood quietly while she talked herself out of it. As compromise, he played Christmas music and made her sugar cookies while she went out scouting for a job.

Part of the deal of their return to civilization was an ankle tracker for him and no law enforcement work for either, which meant Scully became the breadwinner without a badge and Mulder roamed free on their property, all 2 acres of it, his only contact with the outside world being online and any mailmen, delivery men and repair men that might come his way.

And in all honesty, he didn’t mind in the slightest. Scully got to have her family back, her interaction, her life and the smile she wore every day more than made up for his confinement.


“Do you want to study tonight?”

Scully, happily exhausted from her hours at the lab, looked at him with eyes at half-mast, “nope. Classes are done for the break and I have two weeks of no homework.”

He gave her a classic Scully eyebrow as he handed her her mug of hot cocoa, “I know that but that has nothing to do with you wanting to study. You want to study all the time. You can study stuff and have it not mean anything in the grand scheme of homework.”

Blowing the steam across the top of the cup, watching it twist and dissipate into nothing, “am I that much of a geek?”

“But you’re my geek so it’s okay.” Squinting at her, “so, are you serious about the ‘no studying, no homework’ thing?”

Tilting her head and giving him a half-embarrassed, half-cocked, half-radiant smile, “probably not but right now, I am completely fine with leaving my medical books elsewhere and doing the decorating.” After a quick glance around at the boxes he’d carried down from the attic, “did you get them all or do you need me to carry a few down?”

“I’m here all day, Scully, I got them all.”

Looking sharply at him for a moment, she saw no ill-will or anger, just his relaxed look that spoke volumes about how he was still handling his confinement. Scully set her mug down then after planting a short kiss on his cheek, “then let’s get it on.”

“I sincerely hope you mean having wild sex with you amidst the boxes?”

“Let’s save that for under the tree once we’re done. I’ve got a surprise or two left in me and I think you’ll enjoy it more if there wasn’t a cardboard corner poking you in the ass.”

Mulder tugged the tree box open, “then let’s move it, woman.”


They hung up the things and this year, there were definitely a few more things, given Mulder had discovered online shopping and dollar stores all in the same sitting. He didn’t spend money unless he felt it absolutely necessary and not without discussing it with Scully first but he didn’t think she’d mind a few surprise accoutrements added to their holiday collection. More garland had been a must, as well as more lights to string up across the porch railing and around the windows. Scully had hinted that she wanted a Nativity scene and the atheist in him was squashed flat in the 0.4 second battle between belief and Scully, with the nativity scene arriving secretly to be put up when she wasn’t looking. She’d had to pick up the candy canes at the grocery store but had stated, with a smile, that it was the least she could do given she was going to be eating most of them herself.

When it was finally time to decorate the actual tree about an hour later, Mulder let her remove her ornaments, some of her last vestiges of an older life, a past life. The joining of two individuals into one house had culled unnecessary thing and things that didn’t seem as important as they had once been but given they’d made Christmas theirs so many years ago, all those items stayed with a bone-crushing vengeance, Scully not even allowing the slightly mangled original garland to go anywhere, because, as she admitted freely, he bought it and it was staying until they pried it from her cold, dead hands.

They put up her childhood ornaments, her father’s gifted ones, the Mulder years then, after only a slight pause at Will’s items, baby’s first Christmas ones abounding, she then hung the clear ornament with the house key in it, which they’d put back once other keys were made and the engagement ring ornament, now filled with a slip of paper on cotton that clearly stated ‘She said yes!” in Mulder’s hand.

After this one stopped swinging on its branches, she took Mulder’s hand, “think we should still get married one day?”

As soon as they’d gotten their hormones under control from the proposal, Mulder made a good point about how they should wait until things calmed down in their world before they went off and complicated them again by getting hitched in name, rank and serial number. He told her he would prefer to walk down the aisle without wearing his ankle jewelry and understanding completely, Scully had no problem, happy in the knowledge that one day she’d get to marry her most wanted unwanted man from the basement.

“Should we still get married?” he repeated, pulling her close by the waist, leaving just enough millimeters to wiggle fingers up her shirt, wiggle them again up, over and into the top of her bra, “I think we should. I just need to figure out a way to pry this damn tracker off me and we’ll run to Atlantic City and do the deed up right.”

“Atlantic City?” His fingers were making her intellect slip to repeating phrases, and she forced her mind to form at least one more complete sentence, “I thought I’d be getting an aisle in a church somewhere with mom and at least a priest who didn’t look like Elvis?”

“Nope.” Fingers moving inward to wrap around warm flesh, “I just said aisle. After the things I’ve done to you, I’m lucky to have made it through that one Christmas mass. I try that nonsense again and God will surely be like, ‘nope, not having it, move along’ and fire a lightning bolt straight up my …”

She cut his sacrilege off with a kiss and a grin, “shut up and get me out of this shirt, will you, please?”

He immensely enjoyed his time under the tree with her and early the next morning, he found her on the couch, in the dark, only the tree lit. Having dragged the comforter with him, he climbed over the back of the couch, enveloping her in the blue-patterned thick blanket. It went over her head, sending hair askew into her face and making her smile, the parts still visible to him rainbow lit from the lights of the tree. “Good morning.”

Her voice emerged as she pulled the covering from her head completely, settling them on their laps, her hair staying disheveled and adorable, “morning. It’s awfully early for you to be awake.”

“I felt you get up. I like you. I followed. I think they call that the ‘loyal dog response’.”

Cuddling up to him, “you are the best English Mastiff a girl could ever have.”

He took that as the compliment it was intended and kissed the top of her head, “so, are you gonna make me wait to give you your ornament or can I just do it now because I really don’t want to wait.”

“You’ve thoroughly enjoyed the online shopping experience, haven’t you?”

“Beats the hell out of Christmas crowds and I get to talk to the UPS guy for a few minutes. Win, win for me.”

Pulling back in horrified shock, “you got something going on with the UPS guy?”

“No more than you did with that pizza man.” Tweaking her nose, “move so I can go get your gift.” Move she did and he returned a minute later from his office, a small carton in his hand. Dropping back beside her, he set it on her lap, “Merry early Christmas, Scully.”

Amused, she opened the paper, finding not a round bulb but her gold FBI badge, now with a hole in the top and a ribbon through it, hook on the end, “you ornamentized my badge?”


She burst out laughing then hauled up from the couch to hang it, “it bends the branches. I’m gonna need to hang it on two of them.” Coming back his way, she dug under the table beside them, moving newspapers and other detritus before handing him a wrapped gift, “here you go.”

Taking the box, he found a set of ten carved candy canes, all different sizes and types of wood, each with signature stripes whittled in barber pole fashion, sanded and varnished in various colors, quietly waiting to be hung on the tree. He picked up one gently, “you made these?”

“Yeah. Took me most of the year. Been using wood from around here. I’m very lucky you take naps in the afternoons.”

“Is that why you never come lay down with me?”

Shrugging, she ducked her head in embarrassment, “although I have a feeling I’m going to have to retire my pocket knife for awhile. School is getting too busy and I barely got these done.”

With a chuckle, he settled the box on the coffee table, then attacked her on the couch, neck first, then belly as he shoved her shirt up with his nose, “scalpels are just as good as pocket knives.”

“That is not something you normally hear at Christmas.”

“Well, we’re weird. Get over it.”

Wiggling out of her shirt, “I think I’m under it, Mulder.”

Laughing into her neck, “under it, indeed.”

The Council - Chapter 1

“Hey, wake up.” Not even the strong hand relentlessly tapping on Yoongi’s arm could stir him, lost in the dreams encapsulating his mind. Light snores fell from his lips and the man standing over him rolled his eyes, shaking Yoongi’s form violently after jabbing at him ultimately proved useless. “Wake the fuck up!” he yelled impatiently, watching as Yoongi stirred, groaned and yawned. His eyes slowly fluttered open, vision gradually focusing on the rather irritated gang member glaring at him.

“Jin?” he frowned, sitting up and blinking as he came around. “What time is it?”

“Half. Seven…” his elder replied through gritted teeth, searching around their shared bedroom for Yoongi’s school uniform. “We have to go in twenty minutes for God’s sake! Namjoon already tried to wake you, Hoseok said he has plenty of substances that’ll keep you up for days which Namjoon readily refused and the youngers were too scared to go near you whilst you slept, so.” Seokjin rambled as he threw Yoongi’s shirt at his still half asleep friend, turning and sighing suddenly with a small smile. “But then I offered to shoot you in the foot and they happily agreed to that.”

“You’re all so rude…” Yoongi muttered, pulling his shirt and jumper over his head and getting out of bed. “Oh yeah… I dreamt we finally recruited the boy.” he added nonchalantly, making Seokjin freeze in place.

“Did you? Like, actually? You came back looking bitter and went to bed without talking to us. Taehyung thought it was because he broke your red rifle again but-” he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights when Yoongi whirled on him with narrowed eyes.

“Taehyung did what??”

“Irrelevant… Anyways.” Seokjin snickered and cursed himself mentally, handing Yoongi the rest of his clothes before moving to the mirror on their wardrobe to fix his hair. “I’m guessing he said no?”

“Did Taehyung touch Holly?” Yoongi asked meekly in a low voice, joining Seokjin at the mirror and grimacing at the deep set purple rings under his eyes.

“Yoongs, more important things?” Seokjin deadpanned, pursing his lips at the other. “He daren’t go near your precious Holly.”

“Good,” Yoongi grumbled, headed back for his bed as to do his shoes. Holly, his black sniper rifle, had been the first he’d ever had. He’d bought it as a young child when he became an assassin and had trained with it, and it remained dear to him - and so the rest of the gang (particularly Namjoon and Taehyung) were not permitted to go anywhere near it. Or, as Yoongi prefered, ‘her’.

“What did Jimin say, Yoongi?” Seokjin prompted, unwilling to give up.

“That he works alone.” Yoongi clenched his jaw and grabbed his backpack, Seokjin following him out into the large lounge of Bangtan’s base. “I’m thinking of unleashing the Jungkook.”

“You’re thinking of what now?” A quiet voice, rather deep but not at full maturity, sounded behind them and they turned to find their youngest member raising an inquisitive eyebrow from his seat on the couch. “The Jungkook? What am I, a monster?’

“Ah, kid,” Yoongi smiled at Jungkook and perched on the edge of the cushion next to him. “You know the assassin we’ve been trying to get on with us? So he doesn’t become an enemy, because he’s talented, blah blah blah…” Jungkook’s face fell and turned somewhat sour as he nodded softly.

“Yeah, Park Jimin. What about him?” Yoongi was taken aback by his grave expression but it wasn’t all too surprising; Jungkook had a huge superiority complex and didn’t like the thought of yet another assassin joining and possibly overshadowing him.

“He’s refusing to come to us so I thought maybe you could talk to him…?” Yoongi suggested cautiously, words slow and careful as Jungkook sighed heavily. Seokjin announced that it was time to go and they stood, Jungkook shaking his fringe to fall over his eyebrows and walking ahead.

“I’ll think about it, hyung,” he shouted back, a small smile befalling Yoongi’s lips as he followed the other four members out of the door into the black minivan Seokjin usually drove them all to school in.


“What are you thinking of?” Yoongi turned and addressed the boy sat next to him at the window. “Yah, Hoseok-ah,” So called Hoseok jumped when Yoongi nudged him in the ribs, laughing slightly and brushing chocolate brown bangs from his forehead. His smile was wide and bright, which always made Yoongi feel rather warm inside.

“Don’t you think it’s cool when we pull up and everyone gathers to watch us?” he responded in an awestruck voice, gaze rather dreamy as he fixed his eyes once more on the outside. Sometimes he seemed nothing like a gang member. When Yoongi shrugged he mirrored, pouting slightly. “It’s like we’re celebrities.”

“I mean as far as the school is concerned, we are.” Seokjin pointed out, rounding the corner into the car park and sure enough, as with every day, students in the masses had flocked out of the large redbrick building to see them arrive. They didn’t quite understand why it happened but even Yoongi had to admit he enjoyed it, the way the girls (and even some of the guys) swooned over them, the way they clamoured over who was the best, the way they tried to push to the front to see them up close…

“We’re just the school council,” Yoongi murmured, resisting an irrevocable urge to wave at them as if they were adoring fans.

“But, as they say, we’re the pretty boy council,” grinned the boy at Yoongi’s other side, his voice lilting, his fingers gripping the bottom edge of the window and his face in extremely close proximity to the cool glass. “We’re the cute, rich, mysterious ones who have all the power,” he giggled excitedly, putting unnecessary emphasis on his words.

“They say that?” Yoongi hummed, smirking at a group of girls through Hoseok’s window and laughing lowly at their reciprocating squeal. “That’s crazy… interesting, though.”

“Taehyung-ah, Namjoon said he wanted to see you in his office before homeroom today, by the way,” Hoseok mentioned to the guy on Yoongi’s other side softly, Taehyung immediately tearing his attention away from the hilarious reactions of the students to his teasing and looking over at Hoseok.

“Did he say why?”

“Nope. It didn’t sound bad though, if that helps,” Hoseok sent him a sideways smile and adjusted the tie lying over his chest before they left the van and headed past the still excitable others to get to the school. At that moment, he noted, it was like one of those high school films where the popular kids walk and the world seems to move in slow motion with the number of eyes glued to them. Hoseok soaked it in, his smile almost as bright as the sun itself as he passed the last of the crowd and disappeared into the cool halls of the building.


Jungkook was well aware of everybody’s eyes following him as he went to take his usual seat in the back of his classroom near the lockers. He’d been well educated by Namjoon after joining the gang at only eleven and so he had skipped a couple years; he and Taehyung sat at neighboring desks and most of the time he outshined his older friend in their schoolwork.

“Yah,” Taehyung whispered loudly at Jungkook as to get his attention. The younger glanced up from where he scrolled mindlessly through his phone and saw a boy enter alone. He played with the straps of his backpack and surveyed the class, eyes coming into contact with Jungkook’s piercing stare and making him freeze.

“Is that him?” Jungkook mumbled, mouth barely moving as he kept his eyes steady on Jimin. His hair was a stark red, which isn’t how Seokjin had described it at all. It looked recently dyed.

“Yeppp,” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows, popping the ‘p’ and pursing his lips at Jungkook. “How do they expect you to get him on board with us?” Jungkook shrugged, face contorting in thought and concentration.

“He keeps looking over at me,” Jungkook pointed out in a hiss, Taehyung following the finger with which he pointed. Jungkook’s face once again falling stony as the teacher entered and began taking attendance. Every so often he snuck glances at Jimin, each time finding Jimin doing the same at him. His mind wandered, which wasn’t unusual for him, but his lack of focus on his studies was, concerning Taehyung slightly. But Jungkook was intrigued by Park Jimin, who seemed equally as fascinated by him and had been for a while now.


“Heyyyy~!” Hoseok cheered as he and Yoongi joined Jungkook and Taehyung for lunch, Seokjin still poring over his food choices as if it was a life or death situation. He took his food very seriously.

“Jungkook-ah, have you spoken to Jimin yet?” Yoongi asked in a hushed voice, Jungkook looking around before seeing Jimin sat alone in the corner of the cafeteria. He was frantically typing on his phone, steaming coffee, as of yet untouched, was the only form of nourishment near him. He didn’t usually eat at lunchtime.

“Not yet, but he keeps looking at me. He’s kept it up a while now, I just never thought much of it.” Seokjin joined them then, tray heaped as he set it carefully on the table and sat next to Yoongi.

“Who’s looking at whom and why…?” he asked slowly, already eating fast. Hoseok snickered and began to explain, not noticing as Jungkook stood and slunk away to loom over Jimin’s table.

As a tall, man shaped shadow stretched over him Park Jimin faltered, fingers stilling over the keyboard on the device in his hands as he raised his head to look at whomever just approached him. It wasn’t often people went near Jimin.

“Can I help you?” he asked before he knew who it was, his breath visibly hitching once his eyes laid upon Jungkook’s flat expression. “Aren’t you Jeon Jungkook?”

“How do you know my name?” Jungkook asked quietly, not quite thinking his words over. He hadn’t rehearsed what he wanted to say yet.

“Um… we’re in the same class?” Jimin raised an eyebrow and locked his phone, setting it on the marbled surface of the table. “The mysterious Jeon Jungkook, who has like. Five friends and speaks to no one, the so called ‘cold prince’ is talking to me. What did I do~?” he cooed somewhat mockingly, folding his hands by his phone.

“You keep staring at me in class,” Jungkook started monotonously, face still stony cold. “Kinda creepy. You look way too smug to have me talking to you, but i just wanted to ask you to cut it out.” Jimin’s face fell and he sighed, picking up his phone again.

“I’m bored of you now.” he mumbled, trying to keep his voice from wavering. He waved his hand at Jungkook who slapped his hand flat down on the table, startling not only Jimin but the other students who sat around. As Jungkook leaned closer he gulped, blinking slowly with his widened eyes and trying to keep strong. His jaw clenched and eyes shook a little but he kept still.

“It’s funny seeing how you react to me,” Jungkook whispered with a small smirk, pulling back and turning around. “Don’t try me.” he added after turning briefly, settling back next to Taehyung after and eating in silence as he often did.

“What the fuck was that??” Yoongi asked after a small while, mild outrage tingeing his voice. Jungkook could feel Jimin’s eyes still burning holes into his skull, although he didn’t realise just how amazed and stunned his expression was.


His heart was still racing, chest heaving and breath stuttering as he kept his eyes trained on Jungkook. “Why am I like this?” he asked himself in a murmur, brows furrowing slightly in his bewilderment. It was an unfamiliar, fluttery feeling, something he wasn’t quite used to. Awe, interest, impression -

Affection. Adoration.

As always, feedback is appreciated!! Ty all for reading and supporting this series~ :“) This and Inked have me really happy and productive these days hehe ;3

-Admin Belle

A Writer’s Guide to Murder, Assault, and Getting Away With It In Court

We writers love murder and mayhem, don’t we? We kill, hurt, and maim our characters because we love them. And sometimes, characters actually get charged for the crimes they commit on the page. So how does that all work, anyway? And how can someone who’s done something like this, get away with it?

I should probably mention that this is not a guide for planning The Perfect Murder. I am, in fact, not qualified to teach people in that area.

But I can talk about how to charge someone with crimes, and how to potentially defeat those charges under the right circumstances. Which is also fun, right? Right! Off we go.

Keep reading

Leading Suspects - Chapter 14

Happy Wednesday, Everlark Fandom and especially @peetabreadgirl! I think Katniss-Madge-Johanna is my favorite girl squad to write. ;-) Also, I’ll put links on to all previous chapters when I post 15 tomorrow. Enjoy!

“Christ on a cracker. How many green bean casseroles does one person need?”

I shove my fists into my tired eyes and try to remove the hallucination from my retinas. After Peeta and I finished fixing my mother’s roof last night, she tried to get us both to stay for dinner, but I insisted that I needed to get back to Madge and Peeta said he should probably get some work done at the bakery. When I got back to the house, the things he told me on the roof kept playing over and over in my head until my cranium decided to take up the drums as a hobby. Guilt and confusion and something that smelt suspiciously like longing kept me awake most of the night, tossing and turning. It’s been so long since I’ve had a decent cup of coffee. Which explains why I think I see Johanna in Madge’s kitchen.

Keep reading

the-real-sans-the-skeleton  asked:

I had a really hard day today (got harassed at school and then got yelled at) and I was wondering if you would do a request The request is (this might be long sorry) reader find out they are pregnant with Gabe's kid and then before they can tell Gabe the news he is presumed dead and so the reader goes on with their life and has the child then Gabe comes back as reaper and goes to find the reader and then funds he has a family now sorry if it was too long sorry!

((I’m so so sorry you had a hard day hon, those people that yelled at you suck. I hope that things get better!))

“Estoy em-bara-za-da”, you practiced, saying each syllable carefully before licking your lips and nodding. You were playing a short recording over and over, making sure you were saying it right and not butchering the Spanish phrase. “Estoy embara-zada…Estoy embarazada! There we go, I got it!”

You spun in a circle, smoothing your hands down your ‘bloated’ belly, giggling softly and happily. You were pregnant. If you hadn’t taken five pee tests and one blood test, you wouldn’t be sure if you actually believed that it was true but it was. You and Gabriel had talked in passing about having a family; of running away from Overwatch and Blackwatch, finding a home and starting over from scratch. New identities, plenty of money and enough human comforts that you’d never have to look back. You’d never be the ‘Jones’, with their white picket fences and ‘perfect American dream’, but you could be happy and free from all the bureaucratic bullshit that was intrinsically tied up with Overwatch and Blackwatch.

Especially now since things were looking so bad. Between the sensitive leaked information about Overwatch, deaths of prominent Overwatch agents, the reveal of the existence of Blackwatch and the witch hunt the world was on, it was time to get the hell out of dodge. Jesse had left first with Gabriel’s blessing, but his protege couldn’t convince the Blackwatch leader to leave himself. He had wiped records of your existence and moved you to Aix-les-Bains, France; explained that it was safer to be out of Switzerland for the time being, the hour commute back and forth more than worth it to keep you directly out of harm’s way.  What that harm was, he hadn’t revealed to you.

‘It’s better you don’t know, amorcita. Keeps your hands clean of this bullshit.’

Still, maybe with this news he could finally go through with those fanciful ideas of yours. You jumped as you heard you phone begin to buzz, drawing you out of your inner mind and back into the real world. Pushing a hand through your curls, your brow furrowed as you listened to your phone’s nonstop buzzing from across the room, grunting agitatedly. Crossing the room, you grabbed the device and pressed a button to illuminate the screen. Your blood froze like ice in your veins as you read the emergency notifications that were filling up your screen.

‘Explosion at Overwatch Geneva Headquarters’

‘Gigantic Explosion Rocks Overwatch HQ, Unknown Numbers Dead or Injured’

‘Unknown Numbers Hurt and Injured after Explosion Hits Geneva’

“Oh god…”

It had taken three more months until Gabriel’s status was changed from missing to dead, Reinhardt bringing you the personal effects that been found in the debris. His hat, a tungsten ring you had given him and his dog tags; all burnt but still there. Your fingers traced over the letters of his name, a soft sob leaving your lips as you pulled the objects tight against your chest. He may have left the physical plane, but Gabriel hadn’t left you alone. Your hand smoothed down your round stomach, looking up at Reinhardt with a watery smile.

“Thank you…”

“Isabella”, you warned, the bright eyed two year old looking back at you. She had managed to climb halfway up onto the the kitchen table, you rushing and scooping the adventurous little girl into your arms. She looked so much like her father, you joked that she was his little clone, only picking up traces of your features. Big brown eyes framed with thick black lashes, soft copper skin covered in tiny freckles and a head full of thick, wild black curls that framed her chubby little cheeks. “Princesita, how many times must mama ask you not to climb up on the table, hm? You’re going to end up just like those little monkey and bump your head!”

You began to tickle the little girl, spinning her in your arms and smiling at her screaming laugh, peppering warnings and kisses to her head and forehead. You had tried to keep her father’s memory alive; teaching Isabella Spanish and using the affectionate terms you could imagine Gabriel using, showing her vids and pictures of her father and his friends to prove that he was a hero that had laid down his life to protect them. Isabella knew his face, would call him daddy and talk to his framed picture in those short toddler sentences. It was hard, admittedly, to raise her all on your own but you loved your daughter and you know that Gabriel would be happy to know how you both were living.  

“Mama”, Isabella said through giggles, her own chubby little fingers stilling at trying to tickle you. She tilted her body backwards as she looked at the door frame that led to the front door, making you grunt as you took a half step forward to catch her. You shifted your daughter to your hip, the little girl grabbing onto your shirt to steady herself before pointing. “The doorbell mama!”

“Good ears mi amorcita”, you complimented, gently ruffling the child’s hair and bouncing her on your hip with each step. You were expecting a few packages for Isabella’s owl-themed birthday; a colorful owl plush, a dress, umbrella and rainboot set with the same type of owl and a new book featuring the same, sweet cartoon-y creature. The doorbell rang once more making you scoff in annoyance, Isabella yelling again to notify you that the doorbell was in fact being rang. “Thank you little one. I am coming!”

You tried to keep your voice singsong-y, a small tick of annoyance pulling at your neutral smile. Rude ass postman rushing you when they knew damn well you had a child and they didn’t have that many houses to go to in that area. Shifting Isabella on your hip, you put a sweet yet annoyed smile on your lips, undoing the locks before throwing the door open.

“Sorry for ma–”

You jumped startled, arms wrapping tightly around your daughter as you caught sight of the person on the other side of your screen door. It was a tall man that was dressed in all black; black cargo pants, a black hoodie and black boots. Something tickled in the back of your head, there was something…familiar about that silhouette.


Your eyes jumped back to your daughter, the child less scared than you were but more curious as to why you were squeezing her so tightly. Shooting a sweet smile down at her, you took a small half step back, prepared to hit the lockdown button near the door.

“I don’t know who you are but you should go”, you said, voice steely and serious, eyes darting between your daughter, the button and the stranger. “Now.”

The stranger chuckled softly, the sound low and gritty and solemn but familiar, your stomach flipping nervously. Your hands hovered over the button but you still couldn’t find it in yourself to press it just yet as the stranger began to turn, pushing the hood they had up off of their head.

“Cautious as ever mi reina”, the man said before locking eyes with you, a melancholic smile playing on those ever familiar lips. Gabriel Reyes stood in front of you, scarred and pale but alive and you froze. It felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs as you stared your dead lover in the face, your heart thundering in your chest.

“Gabby”, you breathed out weakly, tears immediately rolling down your cheeks. Your mind couldn’t process this. Gabriel shouldn’t be here, they hadn’t found a body but there is no way that he could be here…and alive. You hiccuped, adjusting Isabella on your hip again before wiping hardly at your face. “H-how?”

“Let me come in cariño”, Gabriel said, his hand lightly pressing against the glass of the screen. Now that he was closer, your eyes studied what you could of his facial features. His large brown eyes were now the color of fresh blood. His warm undertone was now gray, making his brown skin appear duller. There scars you had never seen before on your face, but you knew somewhere in your heart of hearts that this was the love of your life. His eyes kept darting between you and Isabella, his expression communicating unbelievable longing.  “I will explain everything, just please let me in.”

“Papa! Mama that’s papa? Mama look! That’s papa?”

“Yes baby”, you said softly, voice cracking as you tried to keep it together for your little girl. “That is your daddy…should we let him in?”


Your hands shook as you unlocked the door, your senses suddenly filled by the scent of his cologne and pomade, his arms wrapping tight around you as he pushed through the door. You unconsciously squeezed your arm tight around him, the feeling of completeness filling your body. He broke away from the hug, a real smile on his lips as he looked between you and Isabella once more before bending slightly so that he could be eye to eye with the two year old. The little girl smiled wide at him, her hand reaching out to actually touch his face, bursting into a fit of giggles when Gabriel kissed her palms.

“Hi there ángel”, he said, his voice unbelievably soft as he stood up to full height.

“That’s not my name”, the toddler corrected, brow furrowing at the ‘name’ her father had imposed on her. “My name is Isa-bella Ale-jan-dra Reyes!”

She slowed down on her own syllables to make sure she said each of them correctly before grinning wide at the man, her father. Gabe’s eyes lifted to look at you, shocked that you had given her his last name before looking back to the little girl, pure love and adoration in his eyes.

“Hey there Isabella…”

Rising Sun--Josh Dun Imagine

Soulmate AU where soulmates have matching tattoos. Part 2 Coming Soon.

Y/C= your city

TW: Mild Mention of Past Abuse 

read at your own risk and stay safe |-/


(Your POV) 

It had been a long day, and by long day you meant days. You had just finished a quadruple shift, almost 48 hours, at the local music store you worked at because your asshole of a boss refused to let you go home after he fired the high school boy you used to work with. He finally let you go home after 40 hours on your feet. 

You get back to your apartment and threw off your heels, stripped out of your (really short) skirt, and took off your tight shirt, which your idiot boss makes you wear because ‘they make your ass look great and a great ass and hot body attract customers.’ You shivered as you remembered that conversation the day you got hired. Yes, your boss was a pig, but you needed the money. 

Exhausted, you fell onto your bed ready to sleep for two days, but your phone rang. Sighing, you picked it up. “Hello?”

“Y/N hi! It’s Stephanie.” Stephanie was your best friend in high school, but you slowly drifted away in college. Still you meet up once in a while if you ever seem to be in the same town, but what could she be calling you about now? 

“Stephanie, hi what can I help you with?” 

“You still work at that old music shop in Y/C right?” 

“Yeah why?” What could she possibly be up to?

“Good ‘cause I have a friend who has a show in the next town over, and he was hoping to get new sticks and some records. Will you be working tomorrow?” 

“Yeah Steph I will, but I don’t see why they can’t just go to a store to their town.” 

“He’s kinda shy, really doesn’t like new people, so I was hoping that I could send him to you, sure he doesn’t know you, but since you’re my friend I was hoping he would at least be more comfortable.” 

“Okay Steph, what time will he be over.”

“Like 8 am.” You could tell she sounded sorry that it was so early, but really your boss was going to make you get there at 7:30, so it was really no big deal.

“It’s okay Steph, I’ll have to be there early anyway to open, so it’s no problem.”

“Eeeee thanks so much girlie make sure to call next time you’re in the area. Kisses, bye.” she hung up. 

You looked at the clock. 9:00 pm. You were so tired, but you hadn’t eaten since 10 pm the night before, so you gathered the last of your energy, slipped on some skinny jeans and a sweatshirt, and walked out your door. After the short elevator ride, you stepped onto the street heading toward the taco bell around the corner. 

You arrived and walked in, ordered your usual, and stood off to the side waiting for your order. The bell above the door rang, signaling another customer, yet at the same time you were walking to the counter to collect your food. You bump into the poor guy, and your food goes flying, landing on the floor and spilling its contents. “I’m so sorry” you said as you stooped to pick up your fallen food. “It’s been a really long day, and I didn’t see you.” You were exhausted, and the long day on your feet caused tears to form. The guy leaned down and helped you pick up the rest of your now inedible meal. 

He set his hand on your wrist, creating a warm fuzzy sensation on your left wrist. “Hey it’s okay.” He smiled, and your heart stopped. He was beautiful. A nose ring glinted despite the shadow from hood. He smiled revealing a set of perfect, white teeth. His warm, brown eyes made you feel all warm and fuzzy. He looked you in the eyes, as you held back tears. “Rough day?” 

“Ha yeah you could say that.” You smiled, keeping back the tears. “I just got back from a 40 hours of work at a place where my boss only keeps me around to dress like a slut, so he can leer at me all day.” You don’t know why you shared that, but you trusted the stranger with pink hair, gauges, and a nose ring. 

“Ooh rough. At least let me buy you another meal, so that you don’t starve.” You didn’t want to take him up, but you were starving, and you spent the remaining cash in your wallet to buy the food that ended up on the floor so why the hell not.

“Alright.” After he bought you food you parted ways, you walking home, and him heading to the hotel two blocks away. 

You walked back into your apartment, finished you food, and showered. After you were clean and fed, you laid down in your bed, and gently rubbed the tattoo on your left arm. The fuzzy sensation the stranger had created had only increased since you left the taco bell. You ran your hand over the small sunrise tattoo on your left inner arm until you fell asleep.

You woke up to your alarm blaring at 6:30 am. You shower and get dressed in the black skirt, low-cut top, and high heels. Grabbing a piece of toast, you run out the door. You get to the music store at 7:15 and get ready for opening at 7:30. You spend the first half hour restocking records and setting up instruments for lessons.

At 8:00 am on the dot the bell rings. You decided to give the customer some space while you finished hanging the record above the register. You stood on a stool placing a Twenty One Pilots’ Blurryface record on the shelf above the register. Little did you know that the customer was standing behind you while you stood a few above him in a tiny skirt with nothing underneath but your lacy underwear. 

“Excuse me I’m looking for Y/N” He cleared his throat, scaring you. Your heel slipped off the top step and you fell backwards only to land on something soft and moving and… breathing? You open your eyes to find warm brown eyes and a nose ring glinting back at you. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.” You quickly stand up and steady yourself on your heels. You hold out your hand, and help the guy up. “Yes I’m Y/N what can i do for you. Oh my god you again?” 

“Oh hi. You’re Y/N?” 

“Yep that’s me and you are?” 

 “The name’s Josh, Stephanie’s friend. She said she called you?” He looked at the floor and put his hand through his pink hair, tugging slightly, a nervous habit. 

“Oh yeah she did, said you needed some sticks and some records cause you were on tour in the next town over.”

“Yeah my band mate and I have a show in the other town, and I needed some new things.” 

“That’s cool what are you looking for?” You walked out from behind the register making sure your skirt covered your ass. After helping him pick up a new pair of sticks and a few records, you walked him back to the register. 

“I couldn’t help but to notice the Twenty One Pilots you were hanging up earlier.” 

“Yeah you a fan?” You smiled as you continued to ring up his items.

“You could say that.” He pulled his hair again. “I’m.. uh… I’m the drummer for them.” That’s when the glass shattered.

“Oh my God you’re Josh Dun!” He took a step back startled by your out burst. “Sorry sorry I’m just a huge fan of your music. I don’t understand how I didn’t recognize you.” 

“It’s okay.” You handed him his things, and he stopped dead in his tracks. “A tattoo? You don’t seem like the type.”

“Oh” you glanced at the sun tattoo on your wrist, the strange tingling warmth was back. “I’m not really. Just the soul mate thing. Apparently there’s someone out there with the same tattoo that was ‘made just for me’ but I don’t know. It’s hard to wrap my mind around.” Truth is you hated to think about that little tattoo, and what it meant. You spent years searching for the other person with that same tattoo, but you had found dead ends or abusive relationships. You’d given up searching. Maybe love wasn’t for you. 

“It’s interesting.” You snapped out of it at the sound of Josh’s voice. “I like it. It’s simple.” He looked back at your face. “Hey we have a show tonight about 20 minutes away would you like to come?” He tugged at his hair again, something you found quiet endearing.

“I’d like that.” You exchanged numbers and emails, him promising to email the tickets and backstage pass to you.

“I’ll see you tonight yeah?” 

“Definitely.” With that he walked out the door, your tattoo burning and tingling more than ever before. What was wrong with it?


(Josh’s POV)

I was freaking out. Legitimately freaking out. It took all my energy to not panic in front of Y/N. I pulled out my phone and called Tyler. 

“Josh where are you man we need to soundcheck?”

“Ty, man, I’m on my way back from the music store twenty minuets away. Remember?”

“Yeah, so why’d you call?”

“Tyler I think I just met my soul mate.”

“Wait! What? Dude explain.”

“Okay so you know how my friend Stephanie told me about this really great music shop?” 


“So after the bus arrived last night, I hopped in a cab over here to find the store, so I wouldn’t get lost and miss soundcheck.”


“Thanks, but not the point.” I took a deep breath. “Anyway, so on my way back to the bus, I stop at a taco bell…”

“Of course”

“Shut up. Anyway I get inside and am about to order when this really cute girl bumps into me and spills her taco bell.”

“Dude, the taco bell”

“I know, Ty. As I was saying. She lets me buy her more taco bell..”

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

“Tyler c’mon man let me finish.” I let out an exasperated sigh.

“Sorry. Go on.”

“Okay, so I thought she was cute, and was so angry that I forgot to get her number, but I go into that music store this morning, and she’s working there. Turns out she’s a fan, but as she’s handing me my stuff, I notice her tattoo. It’s the same rising sun tattoo that I have on my left arm.”

“That’s sick dude did you tell her.” 


“Josh man really?”

“I know, but I invited her tonight.” 

“That’s great, dude. Make sure you ask her out tonight.” 

“Whatever, dude.”

“Oh and Josh, I have to meet her.” 

“Sure Ty.”

By the time I arrived at the venue, I was thrown right into soundcheck, my nervousness only be quelled by the internal warmth from my tattoo. 

Passing Notes.

Alright, this turned out kind of shitty and I wanted them to kiss but it didn’t quite feel right so I didn’t write it in. It’s short and it’s cheesy, but it’s mostly fluff. Cas’ notes are in italics and Dean’s are in apostrophes. Please don’t kill me if it sucks.

@angelicdmitri, @mundanecas, @naruhearts, @casbakespie, @living-in-a-land-of-dreams, @nicememerino, @viruskit, and @rieraclaelin, all of you guys wanted me to tag you when I posted this so here ya go!!

Warnings: Jock!Dean, Nerd!Cas, High School AU, General Audiences Rating, Other Things I Can’t Think Of, Etc.

3.5k Words

Summary: It all started with a sweet note in Dean’s locker.

I think you’re wonderful.

It started with that, just like that. Sweet and simple and scrawled on a little piece of folded up paper. It fell right out of Dean’s locker one day, as though fate was dropping something at his feet, like the beginning of a trail to something, though Dean had no idea what.

Keep reading

Sweet Dreams

My first Killing Stalking fic. Read it on AO3! Please enjoy everyone ^^ Warnings aren’t needed right? Ya’ll know how fucked the main story is lol. 

He woke with a jolt, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. He was panting.


His eyes widened in panic, before crinkling in confusion, and then relaxing in realization, when he felt the softness of the bedsheets between his fingers. He let out a long sigh, before snuggling into Sangwoo, stealing his warmth.

“I had a weird dream.”

Sangwoo pulled him closer, the silent strength of his arms familiar and comforting. “Dream?”

Bum nodded, closing his eyes with childlike innocence when Sangwoo began to run his fingers through his hair. “Tell me.”

Sangwoo’s voice was rugged in the morning. Heavy and slightly slurred, as if he had been drinking just before. Bum loved it.

“It was…you were a murderer. You tried to kill me.”


Bum squeezed him, nodding, “You tied a rope around my neck and hung me from the ceiling.”

Sangwoo began to laugh. Bum looked at him.

“If you weren’t so kinky you wouldn’t have such weird dreams.”

Bum coughed, blood rushing in his veins from the way Sangwoo’s hand had suddenly tightened around his neck, a sadistic smile spreading his lips. “Don’t you think?”

“That was…” Bum trembled, the sudden rush waking him up in the best way possible, “Only one time…”

“It was a few more than that, wasn’t it?” Sangwoo grinned, lowering his lips to meet Bum’s, teeth hitting teeth because neither one of them had stopped smiling.

“My precious little Bum,” Sangwoo stroked his cheek sweetly, eyeing him with all the care in the world, “Only sweet dreams for you, ok?”

Bum nodded, his eyes still closed, snuggling deeper into Sangwoo’s neck. He smelled good.


Bum nodded.

“I’ll start on breakfast—“

He quickly shook his head, holding on tightly to his lover. ”It’s my turn to—“

Sangwoo kissed him sweetly, provocatively, leaving a trail of spoils down Bum’s neck. "You had a bad dream. You deserve breakfast in bed.”

Bum tugged at the edge of Sangwoo’s shirt, “But I want to eat at the table with you.”

“Hm?” Sangwoo cocked his head, smiling with all his teeth, “Wanna help me, then?”

Bum nodded, tossing the cover’s over, wriggling to get out from the massive pile of bedsheets. But Sangwoo was too quick for him, meeting him on the other side of the bed, already hooking his arms beneath the back of Bum’s knees.


“No walking, remember? The doctor said—”

“He said it was fine. I’m almost healed—”

Sangwoo silenced him with a kiss, telling him to wrap his arms around his neck or else he might drop him, play-pretending to do just that.

“Sangwoo, I can walk—”

“If you weren’t so clumsy in the first place you wouldn’t have twisted your ankles, would you?”

Bum blushed, no longer fidgeting as Sangwoo carried him into the kitchen. “Well…I…”

Sangwoo chuckled again; a deep, resonating sound that Bum enjoyed greatly, reveling in the vibration of his lover’s chest against his ear. He was placed delicately into a chair, which was promptly pulled up against the counter. There was a scraping of metal, when Sangwoo dug in the drawer, and pulled out a knife.

“I just sharpened it,” he smiled, handing it over, “It was getting dull.”

Bum nodded, smiling back, reaching for the bell peppers— green, not red, because Sangwoo only liked the green ones in his morning omelette.

“You’re getting better at cutting. Even with the meat yesterday, the cubes in the stew were all even.”

Bum laughed, holding the knife in midair. Sangwoo was always so particular about these things. “Cutting is about the only thing I’m good at.”

Sangwoo kissed his cheek. “I know.”

He continued to cut, while Sangwoo cracked the eggs, which he seemed to always enjoy greatly, smiling and humming along to the same song as always. No matter how many times it seemed to play, Sangwoo never once got tired of it. Bum didn’t particularly mind, so long as it meant Sangwoo would continue to smile.

“Sweet dreams are made of this…”

Bum continued to chop, somewhat mindlessly, his thoughts drifting back to his dream. It felt silly now, of course. But it had all felt so real…so strangely and disturbingly real. But the Sangwoo he knew was kind, and nothing like the one he’d come across in his dream. That one had been crazy, with a terrifying sort of calmness that set his nerves on edge, so Bum thought it best to just forget about it. But…he couldn’t, he wasn’t sure why, because the dream had felt…as if maybe, rather than a dream, he were recalling a sort of memory


Bum nearly jumped out of his skin, the knife clashing on the floor when it slipped from his hands. “I’m so sorry!” He spat out immediately, feeling his pulse spike.

Sangwoo laughed. “Careful, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” he picked up the knife for him, placing a kiss on his cheek, “You’ve cut enough bell pepper for the entire week,” he cackled some more, “How out of it are you?”

“Sorry I…” Bum swallowed, trying to shake away the unpleasant feeling from his stomach.

Sangwoo flicked his forehead. “Stu-pid~”

Bum looked up, his heart twisting, “Huh?”

“No more choke play. Daddy’s orders.”

Bum swallowed again, feeling somewhat relieved, someone stupid for even considering that the dream…

He’d probably lost too much sleep.

The rest of the day followed just like any other, the two of them eating breakfast together at the table, Bum washing the dishes and handing them off for Sangwoo to dry, Bum letting his lover carry him around the house when they were all done, Sangwoo finally dropping him off on the couch once he’d had his fun.

“You’re so small,” he nuzzled into Bum’s neck, “So adorable.”

Bum pushed him off kindly, reminding him they still had to get things done today, despite it being a weekend. “I think were were still a few bills we had to sort out.”

Sangwoo nodded, rubbing the edge of his chin seriously, “You’re better with numbers. I still have some things to take care of for work Monday.”

Bum nodded understandingly. “I can start on lunch, after the bills.”

Sangwoo kissed his cheek, “Careful with the stove.”

Bum blushed. “I will. I-I’ll call you. When it’s ready.”

Sangwoo smiled to himself, “That’s fine, but,” He leaned in close, to the point where it was almost frightening, “Don’t cross the line.” His face was dark; cold, the way Bum remembered it being in his—

“Or else, what am I gonna do if you fall down the stairs again?” His regular smile returned, reaching over to squeeze Bum’s cheeks the way he always did. “Cutie.”

He pulled away, and began whistling again, heading towards the top of the stairs that led to his office in the basement.

Bum swallowed awkwardly, feeling his heart race for no reason in particular. “Sangwoo?” He leaned forward, pressing his feet against the ground, before pulling back, remembering Sangwoo didn’t want him walking yet.


He smiled weakly, forgetting what he planned to say in the first place. “Don’t work too hard.”

Sangwoo smiled again, chuckling softly to himself. “I won’t.” He said, before clicking his tongue, and then singing happily, trotting down the stairs. “Some of them want to be abused…”

Bum kept himself busy, the way he was used to doing; a bit of cleaning here, some mild accounting there, before he decided to start on lunch. Sangwoo would probably appreciate some fish, he was sure.

And he would have continued, just as he was, until he heard the music. And for some reason, it was a song that sent chills down his spine.

He was just going to tell Sangwoo to change it. To please go back to his regular one about the dreams. Because something about this one was haunting. Maybe it was the woman’s voice, maybe it was the lyrics, maybe it was because, in his dream, this had been the exact—

Singing my life with his words…

He would just go down to the basement and tell him to turn it off. That would be fine. Sangwoo wasn’t the kind to snap over something like that.

Even still, he made sure to open the door quietly, careful with each step as he climbed down the stairs. But that was only because Sangwoo hated interruptions when he was—

Bum froze on the last step, coming face to face with blank eyes that stared up at him pleadingly.

It was a woman. A woman who…

A dead…

He nearly threw up, wondering if he’d gotten stuck in some sort of hallucination, nearly falling off the last step, screeching and clutching at the railing.

“Bum,” Sangwoo pouted, speaking calmly through the screams as he wiped the knife against the pocket of his apron, “This is why I didn’t want you down here, sweetheart.”


“You always have bad dreams when you’re in the basement.”

“W-What is—what’re you—get away from me!”

Sangwoo clicked his tongue. “And then you start saying things like that. Bum—”

“NO!” He tried to make a run for it, stumbling up the stairs, but Sangwoo grabbed him from behind, covering his eyes with one hand and pulling him to his chest with the other.

“Shhh…calm down. I’ll get you your medicine.”

“I don’t want it! Get away from me!”

“Shhh…” Sangwoo kissed his cheeks, his lips cold against Bum’s skin, “You’ll sleep safe and sound. Don’t worry.”

The tears fell, Bum not strong enough to get Sangwoo to let go, no matter how much he kicked or squirmed.

“How could you—an innocent woman—”

“Innocent?!” Sangwoo nearly sounded offended, squeezing Bum’s stomach as he carried him up the stairs, keeping a firm hand over his eyes, “Don’t you recognize her? The one who tripped you— she was so hard to find—“ he growled in slight frustration, Bum feeling his heart clench at the sound, “It was so much work and you don’t even appre—“ Sangwoo chuckled coldly, before sighing in reprimand, “You’re so selfish, Bum…”

Bum felt him kiss the top of his head, before he was laid down against what he assumed was their bed. Sangwoo’s hand shook over Bum’s eyes. “No opening, ok?”


“Shhh, it’s ok. Sweet dreams, just like I promised.”

Something pushed past his teeth, Bum becoming dizzy almost instantly, the only real thing left the sound of Sangwoo’s voice, and that song that never seemed to stop playing…

Who am I to disagree?…

i reread the first chapter of philosopher’s stone and i’m sad

  • it occurs to me just how english-suburban-middle-class the name ‘dursley’ is. like the idea that harry lives with the dursleys has been ingrained in my head for so long that now that i’m finally stepping back and looking at the bigger picture, dursley is such an interesting name because it just SCREAMS ordinary. hello, we are the completely normal and non-magical dursley family. idk, it has a nice ring to it. i have no idea where i was going with this bullet point
  • on the dursley front: i love how throughout the first chapter they aren’t ‘vernon’ and ‘petunia’, they’re just ‘mr and mrs dursley’. for someone on their first readthrough, with no concept of the harry potter series, what is even going on in this chapter?? this is just some devastatingly normal family. what is this book going to be about
  • i love how we get glimpses of magic in this first chapter and i love how all the wizards seem to know each other, ‘oh, shooting stars, that had to be dedalus diggle, that fucker, he was always doing stupid shit like that.’ ‘hagrid is bringing him, he told you i would be here, right?’ ‘oh yea, sirius black let me borrow this kickass flying motorbike, i should probably return it to him at some point.’ (cut to me, sobbing into the tearstained pages.) 
  • also, i love how jo introduces the magic gradually. we start with owl sightings and groups of people in cloaks, then the first wizard we see is albus and his magic cigarette lighter. i just love how it starts, like, obviously something out of the ordinary is going on here, but we don’t know what it is, there are mentions of muggles, and then we don’t really even see any of the wizards using wands in this first chapter. wandless magic (and even weird magical objects like the put-outer) are so interesting, and i wish we had seen more of them later on. (my mind automatically goes to lupin holding a handful of fire in poa, like, tell me more about this)
  • so this is eleven years into voldemort’s rise to power right?? (this is me disregarding the later books in the series and just working with what jo has presented here.) which means……he was gaining followers and doing horrible shit all the way back before moony wormtail padfoot prongs and co. had even started at hogwarts!! i love when rowling gives us numbers. so much to work with.
  • mcgee DIDN’T KNOW that james and lily were dead throughout the WHOLE DAY?? did hagrid say ‘oh yeah dumbledore is going to be at privet drive, you’d better meet him, also i heard a rumor that…..’ and dumbledore just showed up around midnight instead of at 9 am when mcgonagall was expecting him?? did she seriously sit on a fence all day and not try to figure out what happened on her own? or was she just in shock and realized that james and lily were dead but she needed to hear it from dumbledore himself……i made myself sad…….
  • g o d, this WAR. there was a WAR on in this book. we see glimpses of it throughout ps and it’s just so well done. i mean this is a children’s book, so a lot of the horribly dark stuff goes on behind the scenes. when i was a kid i picked up on the wizard chess and hagrid’s pink umbrella and flying lessons, not the fact that voldemort was carrying out some kind of mass genocide before the whole halloween incident happened. i think this first chapter of the series is possibly one of the most powerful moments in all seven books, just because this was a full on war, you didn’t know who to trust, voldemort was taking over everywhere, the order was hopelessly outnumbered, dark marks were appearing over so many houses, it wasn’t a matter of ‘will we make it’ it was a matter of ‘who’s going to be next to die, and how’ and then suddenly. in a single night it was just. over. harry potter stopped voldemort. nobody knows how. i love the setup of the series as a whole: in ps you get references to the war, and harry meets voldemort’s fragmented head. in cos voldemort is still somewhere in albania; harry meets riddle for the first time. in poa the pieces are set in motion for peter to bring voldemort back in the flesh; in gof he does come back. then, finally, in the later books, the second war is on, but now harry is (more) grown up, with a better concept of who his parents were, what he’s fighting for, where he belongs,,,
  • also i love that we have NO IDEA what voldemort looked like pre-halloween 1981. he probably still looked like sexy tom riddle, but with some sort of red gleam in his eyes from all the killings. no wonder he was so popular. when peter brought him back as a slit-nosed chalk man he was probably so disappointed
  • if/when i ever get arrested my one telephone call is going to be to jk rowling and i am going to ask her what on EARTH went down between october 31, 1981 and the night of november 1, 1981, because apparently hagrid took an ENTIRE DAY to deliver harry, and mcgonagall waited an ENTIRE DAY for dumbledore to show up. did they not want to move him while the entire wizarding community of great britain was celebrating?? did they think it would be too dangerous??? where did hagrid put him???? WHERE WAS REMUS LUPIN????
  • imagine waking up on a gray tuesday morning to find that your best friend has murdered all your other best friends, the war that you have fought so hard in ever since you left school is now inexplicably, abruptly over, and you have absolutely no one to turn to, and you have no job, no prospects, no future, no nothing, just the monthly promise of unearthly pain and the growing fear that you really will harm someone when you transform this time, even though everybody around you is celebrating voldemort’s defeat. also, your best friend’s son will never remember you because he was too young to know that you were Moony, that you held him and bounced him on your knee and he probably spit up on you once and you were there the day he was born thinking, ‘my god, we’re just children, and now james has a kid, what are we going to do, we can’t even take care of ourselves, there’s a war on,’ but you will protect this child with your life because you want him to grow up safe and happy and loved and THEN dumbledore sets him up with his abusive blood relatives and you don’t see him for twelve years and he doesn’t even know who you are 
My Hellenic Revivalist Holidays

I see so many folks trying to figure out which holidays to celebrate, how to celebrate them, and specific details for those celebrations…so–I’ve taken the time to write down which festivals I celebrate (or haven’t previously, but plan on celebrating in the upcoming year). This is just my personal festival calendar, and certainly not the only way to do it, but I hope it helps some people get ideas :)

Under a read more for length

Keep reading

The Road (Part 2)

Dean X Reader 

Warnings: swearing

Tags: @brandinicole911, @everydayrandomlife

The Road: Part 1

The City: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, part 8


Originally posted by heroes-in-october

The rain is pounding as Alyssa and I pull into the parking lot of the hotel.

“um, this place is kind of fancy, do you want to go somewhere else?” Alyssa just looks at me dead pan.

“I am going to have to show you the perks of having non stolen credit cards.” She shakes her head at me. I roll my eyes.

“I don’t have time to build credit; I’m too busy hunting monsters!” she just laughs as she bounds over to the valet booth. The guy working opens up the little window and smiles at her. They exchange a few words before she hands him the keys and beckons me over with our bags.

Inside the warm lobby, we head over to the receptionist desk.

“Hi, one room please.” The lady looks as us annoyed.

“Do you have a reservation?” she sneers. Alyssa just smiles

“Unfortunately no. We were hoping you would have something available.” She flashes her puppy dog eyes; but the woman seems unfazed.

“Let me see what we have” The venom in her tone cause me to recoil, what’s this lady’s problem.  “We only have one suite available.” She smiles at this.

“Great we’ll take it!” Alyssa exclaims.

“Yeah, its 700 a night.” The woman’s smirk grows. Clearly she thinks we can’t afford it. Alyssa catching on to this pushes her card to woman.

“Perfect, that’s actually cheaper than I thought it would be.” The woman’s smile fades, being replaced with her bitchy expression from earlier.  She huffs, grabs the credit card and slides it. Turning around to grab the key cards. Alyssa uses this opportunity to turn towards me, open her mouth, and point to the back of her throat while gagging dramatically. I laugh. I haven’t seen someone do that since I was kid.

The woman turns around quickly. disgruntled, she set up our key cards and tells us our room number. We thank her, which gets no reply, and head to the elevator.

We find our suite, and shove the card into the door. the room was definitely a let down from the last hotel. There were two separate bed rooms with their own bathrooms and kitchen, but none of the materials were nearly as nice. Which makes me wonder how expensive the other hotel was.

“Okay, so do you want to get ready for bed, then come out here and watch some TV and hang out a little?” I look at the living room section, surprised to find a large TV and couch.

“Sure sounds good.” I head into my room.

Relief hits me as I close the door. I feel like I haven’t been alone in years. I lock the door, and drop my bag on the chair in the corner of the room. I start stripping out of my cloths, dreaming of a hot shower to ease my aching muscles.

I don’t know how long I was in the shower for, it felt like eternity. I got so lost replying the events of the last few days, I couldn’t move, it was like the vale of water protected me somehow. Walking across the room to my bag, I get the sudden urge to check my phone.

Digging through my bag, I start to viciously throw things on the ground. I can’t find my phone. “Where the fuck is it!” I yell. I stand up, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Freaking out won’t help. I slip on a pair of short, and dean’s old shirt in case Alyssa comes looking for me. I carefully empty every item in my bag, double checking that it is not hidden in folded cloths.

My hang my head in my hands as I remember placing my phone under the pillow in the hotel. I forgot to grab it when we left. I start laughing at how stupid I am, tears stinging my eyes I realize I lost the phone most of my family pictures on it.

“(Y/N) want to watch movie?” Alyssa says from right outside my door.

“Yeah, sure.” My voice couldn’t sound less enthusiastic if I tried.

Opening the door, I see Alyssa’s concerned face.  “Everything okay?” I plop down on the couch.

“No. I forgot my phone at the other hotel.” I drape my arm over my eyes in a dramatic fashion.

“I know…” jolting up, I look at Alyssa. She looks guilty, and maybe even a little fearful.

“What do you mean you know?” She starts ringing her hands together, nervous.

“Well when you were napping in the car this morning. Dean kind of called.” She flinches at the last part.

“What! What did he say? Why didn’t you tell me?! What the hell Alyssa?!” my anger brought me to my feet.

“He wanted to talk to you. I told him to call your cell. He told me you left it behind.” My hands clench at a sudden realization.

“Okay so let me get this straight. Dean calls you, looking for me. he tells you I left my phone behind, and you decide to not tell me I forgot my phone.” I don’t let her answer. “But let me ask; if Dean wanted to talk to me enough to call you. He would be calling you nonstop, till he got to me. But you haven’t gotten any calls except for the one from your mom, so what did you say?” she looks at me shocked.

“Wow you really do know him.” I cross my arms and cock my eyebrow, not in the mood for this bullshit. “Okay.” She raises her hands in defeat. “I may have told him you were going to some old friend’s house, and you and I parted ways for a little.” I uncross my arms.

“Why would you say that?” she shrugs and heads over to the mini bar.

“You and Dean don’t belong together.” She spits his name out, like it was poison. Something feels off.

she grabs a little bottle of vodka and rips the cap off. downing the bottle, I stare at her; more confused than angry. What is happening here? I don’t know what to say when she turns to look at me.

“What you saw the way he treated you. Like fucking trash. You were a useless hunter who wasn’t even decent enough for the man whore Winchester to sleep with. I mean that must really hurt.” I take a step back from the sudden attack.

Alyssa cracks open another shot of vodka.

“Excuse me?” it’s the only thing I can say.

“Excuse me?” she says in a mocking tone. She downs her third shot. “God you’re fucking annoying. No wonder Dean never liked you.” She laughs like she made the funniest joke.

I walk to my room. I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but there is no way I am staying here with her. Luckily I packed everything back up while looking for my phone. Slipping on my boots and grabbing my bag I head for the door. Entering the living room again, Alyssa is nowhere to be seen. Taking the opportunity, I run to the door.

A sudden sharp pain in my side causes me to fall to the floor. reaching around in a panic, I can feel the handle of a knife sticking out of my side. “What the fuck” my words are filled with excruciating pain.

I hear Alyssa cackle at my pain. “Oh you’re not going anywhere. I can’t have you running to Dean and telling him horrible things about me.” I can feel the blood soaking the ground beneath me. “You see; I have been following the Winchesters story for a long time. And Dean… well I don’t think I have ever loved anyone as much as I love him. I mean he is strong and fierce, but also sweet and good hearted.” I groan.

“You… You just met him a few days ago.” I manage to get out through the pain.

“Yes, he met me a few days ago. but I have studied everything about him.” She sighs. “When I saw you guys on that hunt, I almost died. I never thought I would just run into him. I mean what are the odds really.” She starts walking to grab another shot. “Then you and I hit it off. Well not really, but I could tell how in love the two of you were with each other and couldn’t have that; so I befriended you and ruined your love for him.” I groan in pain, from the both the story and the stab wound.

“It was easy really. When the three of you were in your room I went down to the bar and paid dumb and dumber to keep the boys occupied when they came down, it was just lucky coincidence they were in the same section as the boys at the concert.” She takes her shot “Then when you went back up, I told Dean the reason you didn’t show up was because you met this hot guy, and you guys wanted to do your own thing.”

Shock fills me. All this time, I was being played. It’s getting hard to keep my eyes open, the blood loss is making me weak.

“I have to say though (Y/N) this is a perfect end to the story.” She starts to drag me into the kitchen. “You see, your death will give me and Dean the perfect thing to console each other over. I will take your body to the boys for proof, and when I break the news I’ll tell them I can’t go back with my parents.” She unwraps a candy bar from the mini fridge and starts to eat it like she isn’t spouting out her evil plan.

“Then, being the great guys they are. They will take me in. and I’ll be the new member of the family, and Dean and I can fall in love and live happily ever after.” my eyes flutter shut. The last thing I feel is the tear roll down my cheek.