i hope you like it bb ;;

Getting to Know You

Prompt: “It’s 8:30, I have a hangover and you’re annoying me.”

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam

Word Count: ~2200-ish

Warnings: Fluff, Slightly sexual situations, Language maybe I don’t remember, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of past injuries and small amounts of blood. Also, for all intents and purposes, the reader is short in this series

A/N: This is for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ’s SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge (yes, I have a million other things to finish, shhhhh I’m sorry my sweet bbs) where she provides us with a couple prompts each week during the hiatus and we’ve got a week to finish! I’ve given myself the extra challenge of somehow making all of these fit together into one storyline, so I have no idea what’s gonna happen here but I hope y’all stick around to find out lol.

Thanks to @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @hanny-writes-spn for looking this over for me~ 

As always, I live off of feedback! So lemme know what you think!

Tags at the bottom!

(gif source)

“Well, you’re welcome and all that for saving your asses for the thousandth time.” You said with a cheeky smile that had both Sam and Dean rolling their eyes.

“You might be delusional from that hit to the head, kid, because I distinctly remember busting into that vampire den and taking your ass out of the fire.” Dean replied.

“Literally,” Sam added with a confused look. “I still don’t understand why they had you like rotisserie-style over the fire.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a disgusted groan. “I don’t know, that main chick was so wordy I just tuned them out after awhile. Damn bloodsuckers said something about blood tasting different that way? They weren’t trying to cook me, fire wasn’t hot enough. I just got really sweaty.”

“Maybe they wanted something a little smoky? I mean, who wouldn’t miss a good barbecue?” Dean chuckled as he threw their machetes in Baby’s trunk.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You said rubbing the back of your head.

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BB: So you are the hitman from New Crest? Heard a lot about you.
Tony: Only good things I hope.
BB: Who would say a good thing about someone like us?
Tony: When it comes to “good”, Ms. Bane my interpretation is very loose, I assure you.
BB: Well then, I heard only “good” things about you, Tony.
Tony: It doesn’t happen every day that I get complimented on my work. I sense an ulterior motive behind such flattery, but I don’t mind for now.
BB: I never flatter anyone, Meatball. It doesn’t happen too often to meet someone equally murderous as me. Someone who takes life away as easily as I do.
Tony: What do you want, Bane?
BB: Nothing, really, just a small talk. I don’t think you have anything I could be interested in, except maybe a couple of stories about those who tried to get away. Weddings are so boring.
Tony: Give me one reason why I should entertain you. Don’t you have someone else to kill time with?
BB: Time is the only thing I can’t kill, Tony. So don’t get in my way when I come to New Crest.

BB: Good night!

good morning and i hope everybody is having a wonderful day >:3c yesterday i had so much fun with my friends wtf, well at first it was slow to start but then we were in an apartment in dix neuvième and the view was soooOooO nice and you could see the train station from really afar (and it was really high up) and the trains looked like little caterpillars that crawled across the rails and the sun was rising and the city looked like a little lego city and i could see montmartre and the eiffel tower too and i knew my crush/bb was probably somewhere around montmartre and we texted at the beginning of the night but i didnt want to go to douzième so we didnt meetup lol and the sun was rising and it was super warm and i was eating fried potatoes with béarnaise sauce that i was sharing with my friend max and drinking pastis all the time 

finally hauled ass to draw bnha for the first time!! which happened to be on lil beansprout’s special day by sheer coincidence! happy birthday midoriya ♡



Super self indulgent but man this made me happy to draw, I hope it makes some of you happy today too ^ ^

Thank you everyone who played my Valentine’s Day Game! The event is now closed, thanks for participating!! <3


Explanations/headcanons beneath cut!


The artist also appreciates if ship bashing can be kept out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

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I’m immortal and I’m suffering.
Why must I watch all those I love pass away
While I’m still here… living, breathing…

Greatly Appreciated (Cover)
Ly & Dom
Greatly Appreciated (Cover)

Piano by @cosmicowly
Vocals by me

Here’s the song from the episode, “Min and Marty” from Islands (Adventure Time) written by Ashley Eriksson! We hope you enjoy our cover <3 These are the lyrics and the chords Ly used:

  Eb                  Bb/D            Cm               Bb
I heard that you loved me but only for two weeks

   Fm                    Bb                Fm                   Bb
To be hopeless or not to be I’m weak with indecision

         Eb             Bb/D        Cm       Bb
Could we begin again on a terrible date?

  Fm                                 Bb         Eb      Bb/D
It would be greatly appreciated by me

Cm             Bb                  Ab             Gm
I’ll wear my normal shoes this time

         Fm                            Bb
Then maybe you’d like me better in the sunlight

 Eb         Bb/D            Cm               Bb
If I built a raft, will you stay with me then

      Fm                Bb       Eb
And fall in love all over again?


Sterek AU - “Princes” requested by felicitysmock:

“Your highness.” Derek gives a small, regal smile - and isn’t it funny, how such a thing as generic as a smile can convey rank in that way, betraying superiority over others - and releases Stiles’ hand from where he’d caught it mid-punch. (An accident. Mostly.)

“Prince Derek,” Stiles says, aiming for respectful decorum even through the tangible annoyance in his tone. When sneaking around the palace, he prefers not to be followed, and does not have control over his actions might he hear footsteps behind him. Hence, the near assault on the crown prince of Beacon Hills.

“You might find yourself in safer company with a sword for defense, instead of fists.”

Stiles smiles - sneers - politely. This is a game they’d often played when they were kids. Years have passed but Stiles still remembers the objective: to feign pleasantries so the Kings, their fathers, didn’t sense the dislike they had for each other. Normally they’d only play when they had an audience; they were currently alone.

Calmly: “I might find myself in safer company, if visiting nobility stayed in the guest quarters they were given.”

The smile that passes Derek’s lips this time is decidedly less princely, instead there’s a mischievousness Stiles recognizes from memories of 14-year-old Derek.

He says, “Apologies. It’s just you’re dressed for a ride, yet your waist is absent a scabbard.”

Here it was, the reason for sneaking around his own home. If Scott caught word that Stiles tried to ride to the camp his father was being held at to haggle for his release, he’d find himself tied to a chair until sense returned.

“I often go without a blade,” Stiles says, “As I never had the patience to hone the skill.”

He prefers to exploit enemies from the pages of books, is more useful crafting war strategies than leading the front line. He had, of course, the best teachers at his disposal and couldn’t have gone all his life without wielding a sword under their instructions, but there was a level of dedication that was needed to become fluent in the art. Stiles had directed that dedication elsewhere.

Now, on the brink of war, his father a flaunted captive of the Argents, and no one to represent the royal family on the battlefield but him, he wishes he’d have returned to the training ring more often than what was mandatory.

They were positioned close to one another in the palace hall, the wall torches making a show of wild shadows across Derek’s face. There was now a groomed beard where before were adolescent blemishes, there was a strong structured jaw, and a broadness that made their near-same height feel exaggerated.

Even more so when Derek leaned close in a manner of not wanting to be overheard, “War is inevitable.”

Stiles felt wholly aggravated at this point. “And?”

“And you can’t stop it. My parents will join as a display of loyalty to yours, and the both of us will end up on the field.”

None of this was unknown to him. “What would you have me do?”

A crease has formed between Derek’s dark eyebrows. Stiles lost track of when their game had stopped.

Like it was obvious, “I would have you not fall into a trap. Yes, I know you were visited with news of your father, you’d have to be blind to not see how eager you were to leave with the messenger.”

“Fall into a trap,” Stiles echoes, tone completely absent of the politeness from before. “You see me as a child, too naive to know the difference between truth and deceit?”

“I see you as desperate,” Derek argues, “As any son would be in your place. The Argents trade in master swordsmen, it is not speculation to say you can not win this way, it is truth. They will have stationed the best of their men to guard your father, and if you were to ride in, sword less, and alone, they would strike you down. Your kingdom would he heirless, your people without a ruler, those you love robbed of you-”

Stop.” Stiles fists his hair with both hands and turns from Derek, so the side of his face is visible only.

Long, aching moments pass where Stiles labores through the act of breathing. When it doesn’t take his whole strength to do so, he drops his hands, rings his fingers around his wrist, still turned from Derek.

His voice shakes, another sign of his weakness. “You think I don’t already know this?”

A noise of anger and disbelief parts from Derek’s lips. “Yet you would still go?”

“I would have this done,” Stiles closes his eyes. “Three months is a long time to wait for news of your father’s life.”

Another moment of silence passes. Then, Derek’s hand grips his elbow, stilling the restless movement of his arms.

“There are other ways.”

Stiles scoffs, an airy, short burst of laughter. “Have you already forgotten? I can’t wield a blade.”

He hasn’t let himself admit how much of a drawback this truly is. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he was admitting it to Derek now, they’d never been friends.

Stiles turns back around and finds Derek with a expression he isn’t familiar with. With a softness to it, it was wholly genuine.

Derek says, “I’ll teach you.”

5. Being Attacked by Bugs

So andavs is not quite ready to post her art version yet (we already checked, the mind meld factor is not high…), but I wanted to put this up because it is a special gift for obriensnipples! Primarily as a belated birthday present, because she wanted Derek mowing the lawn shirtless but also because rough times suck and I hope this fic helps with that even if only a little bit!

So this next Not Quite Normal OTP challenge is for you, babe! I hope it brightens your day a little bit!


Stiles’ summer vacation does not start out well. In fact, it starts out pretty poorly.

Okay, really, it’s a fucking disaster.

 Because, Stiles is walking out of Beacon Hills High, officially a Junior now that the final bell has rung, and he’s talking to Scott who keeps insisting that Junior year will be the year that he will finally ask Allison out and Scott has fallen behind to stare at her and Stiles keeps walking because Scott will catch up eventually, though Stiles is keeping an eye on him, and-

Well, that’s when he gets hit by a car.

Not just any car, though. No, when Stiles regains consciousness and manages to blink away the dark spots that take up 90% of his vision, he finds himself staring at the front of a black Camaro.

And the only black Camaro in Beacon Hills belongs to…

“Oh my god.” Derek Hale.

Derek Hale, the now-senior lacrosse player and subject of almost all of Stiles’ dirtiest fantasies.

He groans. And it’s only partly from the pain.


“Stiles!” Scott sounds frantic. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“I don’t need,” Stiles tries. And then stops. Because he looks down to see his leg covered in blood and he has never liked blood and- well, he doesn’t complain when Scott stands up with the phone pressed to his ear.

“I’m sorry!” Derek Hale is saying and he sounds… angry? This is not how Stiles wanted his first interaction with Derek Hale to go. “You just- you just walked right into the road!”

“Dude,” Stiles replies, rubbing at his eye. “Are you really blaming me for this?”

“Not blaming you, I just- you walked right in front of me!”

“You hit me with your car!” Stiles winces at the sounds of his own voice. It’s too loud. Everything is too loud.

When he opens his eyes again, Derek’s eyebrows are draw together in concern.

“I’m sorry,” Derek repeats. It’s probably just the result of Derek’s ridiculously attractive face and Stiles’ epic crush on the kid, but Stiles forgives him instantly. Even though he’s getting colder by the second and he’s pretty sure that’s not a good thing.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving a hand and regretting it when the motion hurts his leg somehow. “I’m sure I’m fine.”

Keep reading


Vinny: [goes on a hunting trip] What about these pants I got on? You think they’re okay?

Lisa: Imagine you’re a deer. You’re prancin’ along. You get thirsty. You spot a little brook. You put your little deer lips down to the cool, clear water… BAM! A fuckin’ bullet rips off part of your head! Your brains are laying on the ground in little bloody pieces! Now I ask ya, would you give a fuck what kind of pants the son of a bitch who shot you was wearing?

Here’s Kim Seokjin for @syeokjin