i mean seriously this speech i have to do on monday

Meet Me Inside -  Part 1

Masterlist | Part 2 

Relationship: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You really wanted your last year to go without a hitch so you could finally get your Masters degree. But then Professor Barnes walks in to your lecture. And he makes it a whole lot harder to focus. 

A/N: I finally had some inspiration thanks to a request I’ve had sitting in my inbox for ages. And i’m so excited.

Warnings: None for this part. 

Words: 2134

Originally posted by veronikaphoenix

Rubbing the fatigue from your eyes, you groan as you roll over, picking up your phone and squinting as the screen shines far too brightly while you turn off your alarm and drop the phone back on to your bedside table.

“Last year” you mutter to yourself repeatedly as you roll out of bed and get ready.

Only one more year and you’d finally finish your Masters Degree. The thought, however, was always threatened to be dampened by the realisation that you’d need to make plans for what you would undertake after you graduate, but you pushed the thought aside whenever it threatened to linger.

Although you’d refused the offer to go out the night before, you had stayed awake for much longer than you should have and it showed. Your eyes were puffy and dry from lack of sleep.

“Last year” you mutter to yourself once more.

As was routine, you tie your hair back, dress in whatever is clean, grab your phone from the bedside and your bag from beside the door, locking your apartment as you leave.

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The Sweetest- *Quarterback!Theo*

Okay. @stydiajeep or something like that requested this a LOOONG time ago. (apologises if I tagged you for nothing) I haven’t forgotten and this pic inspired me. And an anon requested something about a glutton boyfriend. Let’s hope this tied together as well as I hoped. Here it goes, I love you so much. Thanks for the request.

Also- thanks to @wiccanthrope for helping to provide the proper circumstances for me to remember I had this request floating around.

Warnings: It’s long af. Food porn. Real porn. I may have inherited @lilshitwayne‘s clean fetish so we’ll see. Phew- let’s get into it.


You stood on the sidelines waving your pom poms and cheering loudly as your boyfriend, Theo had scored a touchdown, winning Beacon Hills the championship. He looked over and shot you a wink as his teammates all flocked him, it’d be impossible to get to him now. Not while they were hoisting him onto their shoulders as he held the trophy. Thank God that they’d won, you thought.

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I Think I Wanna Marry You...(Part 7)

Summary: After a week of tip-toeing around his them, Dean musters the courage to acknowledge and maybe even do something about his feelings.

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: Swearing

Read the previous parts here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

*Masterlist*


Tagging:  @julibelen​ , @ilostmyshoe-79​ , @scamanders26newtcase​ , @g-c-falorraquideo​ , @the-rain-pours-down , @explorersinwonderland​ , @babyblues915​ ,  @rizlowwritessortof@adoringjensen​ , @peaceloveandplumbots, @quixoticcat, @skymoonandstardust, @girliciousdreams, @captainbitchslap, @awkward–jay, @fandomlover03, and @daesunglg

I know I said this part would be the last, but I happened to write it out until I got to 8k and decided it made more sense to just split it into two.

Enjoy!
                                                    ~*~*~
Friday arrives sunny, warm, and busy. Anticipated Friday, a day away from ending this little game of play pretend, the false life they’ve been living for a week now—the good life, where they’re both brave enough to be in love rather than hide behind a “friendship” (because we all know how that story goes). And to say that Y/N, drunk of her feelings from this entire trip, is not even the slightest bit disappointed that this has to end would be false.


Because how can she not be? How can she not desperately cling to this life, to this simulation where Dean’s heart belongs to her? She has to, at least for now, because within less than forty eight hours the story has to end; she and her beloved must return to reality. To hunting.


To being friends. (Because we all know how this story goes..)
                                                   ~*~*~

With the help of Castiel and his brother, Dean is ready for the rehearsal dinner by seven. His suit, intricate and pressed and oh-so-doubleO7, sits firmly on his burly frame, his shoes so shiny they glint like diamonds, and Dean, all five feet and eleven inches of gentleman, revels in the feeling. The magnificence.
Sure, his hair is a bit tousled and there’s a patch of stubble gracing his jaw (shaving hasn’t exactly been a number one priority of his these past few days)—but he’s looking sharp, and feeling twice so as he follows Sam and Cas down the hall from their room, the three musketeers all dolled up for the night.

“Don’t we look spiffy.” He can’t help but remark as Sam snorts.


“Man, I don’t remember the last time I had to look this nice and it wasn’t for a case.”


“That’s because you never have.”


“Is Y/N ready?” asks Cas, adjusting his tie, Dean’s gaze bouncing to him—even if he won’t admit it, the angel and his baby brother are quite the competition when it comes to the looks.


“Probably, yeah. She texted me like—“ Sam checks his phone, “—ten minutes ago? Said she’d be done in five. You think she’ll find us there or?”


“Why don’t we just go get her?” Dean shrugs then looks to them, finding smiles twisting into their faces as they share a knowing glance. He narrows his eyes at his brother who tucks his phone away in his suit then turns.


“Good idea, Dean—go ahead. We’ll meet you guys down.”


“Wha—?“


But Cas cuts him off, patting him on the shoulder with a smile and then following Sam downstairs. The elder Winchester, rolling his eyes, only shakes his head and then turns back to head to their room, running a hand through his honey-hued locks.


And there’s no denying he’s nervous. It shows in the rigid, stiff way he walks, pulling at his collar, the cuffs of his shirt, tucking away stubborn hairs that are already in place. Dean hates that he has become this. That her hold over him is this strong, and yet he can’t find the energy to hate her for it.


When he knocks gingerly on the door once and then three times more when he thinks she hasn’t heard him (just to be sure, you know?), the door swings open, revealing a dolled up Y/N.


And….wow.


Dean stills, eyes shooting to meets hers as he feels his heart thud faster and faster in his chest, and Y/N, realizing that it is him, it’s her Dean, stops mid-sentence


“Oh.” . Her face contorts into a surprised gape, brows raising. “It’s you.” She says.


He swallows. Blinks, and God, does she look…ethereal.


All starlet and diamonds in her eyes, pink lips forming a soft, shy smile. Her hair is pinned up and she’s wearing an off-shoulder dress that’s only a few shades lighter than his eyes..


The elder Winchester’s brows arch approvingly. “Wow. Stunning.


“Ditto. Did Sam help you pick that out.”


“Really? I can take care of myself even without Sammy.”His eyes rake over her form and then return to hers, a smile tugging at his lips upon its own accord. “Although I have to admit: even I’m no fair match for this.”


Snorting, Y/N draws on some matte lipstick, dabbing off the excess. It’s a deep red, burgundy almost, and definitely a better fit than the previous cherry. 


“So….” Dean sits down at the foot of the bed. “tomorrow’s the big day—you nervous?”


“It’s not my wedding.”


“You’re still a bridesmaid and I know how much you hate crowds. Not to mention the whole heading back to Kansas the next morning.”


“I thought we’re leaving Monday?”


“Can’t do Monday. Sammy has some thing that evening and he’ll need the car so,…”


“You’re seriously letting him drive?” An incredulous, mildly amused gape takes form as she meets his emerald eyes in the mirror. “Boston’s changed you, huh?” 


Tossing the necklace back into the box, he rifles through the rest of the jewels, inspecting a zirconium ring he digs up from the bottom. Holding it up to the light, he squints. “He’s a big boy, he can handle her.”


“And yet when I ask….”


“I don’t say no, I just….” He shrugs, brow knitted together and lips pursed. “…don’t say anything. And besides, sweetheart, you’re a terrible driver.”


When she meets his gaze in the mirror, her nose wrinkles. ” Sweetheart?” Y/N questions. A smirk tugs at his lips as he then stands and crosses the room in three long strides, tipping his head to the side


“Babes, baby, my honeybun.”  Dean teases as bends down and throws his hands around her waist, nestling his chin in her shoulder, the rumble of his chest firm on her back. Laughing, Y/N bats his hands away but his grip only tightens, springing giggles from her that shakes her shoulders. 


“Ew…” 


“So….”


“So, get off me?” Her smile betrays the admonishing tone in her voice, but nonetheless Dean surrenders


His arms leave her waist as he straightens out, raising his hands in a defensive manner. They drop to his side and he looks back into the mirror, where Y/N shakes her head and continues dabbing at the corners of her mouth, precise and pink. 


The elder Winchester’s eyes follow her ministrations as she doles on some blush and mascara. He doesn’t think she needs it. The only time she ever sports anything more than mascara is when they have to get prettied up for a case, and even then it’s a bare minimum, but it doesn’t matter (he thinks she’s stunning either way.)


“It’s over…”He muses. “We did it.”


“Who would have thought—I thought I’d kill myself halfway through having to be your girlfriend.”


“You know you love it, babes.” Dean gives her shoulders a squeeze and she jumps up with a shriek, both their cheeks indented with dimples, hearts full and the air is jovial. He doesn’t want to be late—Cas and Sam have been waiting and the rehearsal is about to begin, but he wants to live in this moment—any moment with her, however short—forever.


But time betrays him, a long-term enemy that seeks him out whenever it can as Y/N hurries to get her shoes and spritz a cloud of perfume on. She maneuvers fast, zipping around the room, gathering the garments strewn across the floor and bed and tucking them away under the blanket.


“Remind me that there’s an arsenal under the blanket tonight before I collapse into it.”


“Before we collapse into it, you mean.”


Rolling his eyes, he lets her through the open door and then shuts it behind them. Tucking their key into his jacket pocket, the elder Winchester then takes in a deep gust of breath, hooks his arm with Y/N’s, and they head down.


When they arrive downstairs, the first half of the rehearsal is spent practicing for the ceremony, speeches and then finally, when Uncle Gary finishes his toast with a rancorous cheer, the party blooms with the steady opening key of a piano, and then it is full swing mayhem. Drinks are poured, some spilled onto exclusive fabrics, and Dean is immersed into the celebrations as Cas hands him another glass of liquor. He tries his best to stay sober, though, because Y/N wouldn’t want him to be anything less.


Instead, the evening is spent with her.


In her arms dancing and in his head, combating his thoughts and trying not to laugh at how terrible she is or at the scrunch of her nose when she takes a sip of his scotch. They’re friends again, now. Conversation once seemingly stifled flows freely, no awkward breaks, no intimate stares that divert from the topic at hand, and all throughout the night, Dean is glad to even be a half of her whole in any way.


                                                    ~*~*~
When Saturday blooms with the sound of birds humming outside and Y/N’s whisper pestering him to get up, Dean fights the exhaustion that glues him to the bed, groaning and swatting away his partner.


“We’re going to be late, get your ass up.”


“Five more minutes.”


“Dean, I’m not kidding,” Her voice is thin, dripping with acid that warns that dare he not get up now, the consequences will be dire. “It’s already eight o’clock, we’ve got ten minutes.”


“Piss off, sweetheart…”He mumbles into the pillow.


Y/N scowls and smacks his shoulder. 


Groggy eyed, Dean surrenders, mustering up the strength to push himself to sleep. He rubs his eyes open. His muscles ache and there’s a tumultuous pounding on the left side of his head that reminds him of the four beers he downed last night. Fervently blinking, he squints when the harsh lighting bombards his tired state.  


Craning his neck, he searches the room for Y/N who, if the sound of running water means anything, has disappeared into the bathroom. He gets up and pulls on his pants, then ambles across the room, pushing the door open to the bathroom. A wave of steam wafts over him instantly, tickling his numbed skin as he goes to wash his face.
When she hears the sound of gushing water, Y/N immediately stops showering. The running water then goes dead silent and she peers out from the curtain, befuddled and drenched.


“What are you doing?”


“Getting ready”


“I’m showering, Dean. Some privacy?”


Filling a glass of water, he gargles, spits and wipes the corners of his mouth clean, looking up to meet her gaze in the fogged mirror. “I need to get ready, too. The ceremony’s in three hours.”


“Privacy!”


“Hello?” There comes a knock at the door. Startled, the pair both turn their heads, eyes weary and the sound of the sink filling up echoing in the back.


“Is that your mom?”


“Sounds like Aunt Steph—go tell her I’m in the shower?”


“What? No!” He vehemently protests. “I don’t wanna see her, I’m not even dressed and….” Suddenly, the elder Winchester’s words die out as color springs to his cheek, his adam’s apple bobbing. From behind the curtain, Y/N’s brow knits further in disconcert, urging him on.


“…it’s….morning—you know…?” Averting his gaze, Dean awkwardly waves a hand around his waist, clenching and slackening his hand, and when the realization dawns Y/N’s face, too, splits into a feint blush as her eyes widen.


Her mouth forms a little ‘o’. “Right, sorry I—“


“Y/N? Y/N, honey, are you awake?” A feminine voice slices through the chatter and the knocking intensifies.


“It’s your mom. Crap. Okay, uhm,” Eyes skittering left and right, Dean bites his lip in thought. “—okay, you stay there and….bathe. I’ll handle this.”


“What about your whole dude situation?” Eyes flitting to his waist, Y/N immediately regrets looking, her cheeks heating up.


“Really, Y/N?”


“I’m genuinely asking!”


With a sigh, the green-eyed hunter disregards her remarks and hurries out, grabbing a nearby catalogue for greatly needed shielding. The knocking is annoyingly incessant, and he yanks the door open, exposing none other than her mother.


Her hand raised in the air, Marilyn’s hundredth knock is halted as she drops it back to her side and sighs. “Sorry for the impatience—where’s Y/N?”
“Morning to you, too, Marilyn.”


“God, the reverend is complaining that he can’t make it here on his own. We tried telling him to catch a cab and get here by two but the soonest he can get one is three. I don’t want to say anything to S/P/N about it in case she loses her head.” Eyes softening, Marilyn’s voice calms and she sighs. “Dean, would you please be a dear and go fetch him?”


“Like, right now?”


“What do you think?”


The elder Winchester bites his lip in contemplation, cornered, trying to hide his lower half behind the door. His fidgeting then draws the elder woman’s attention, and her gaze lowers. Dean’s face flushes.


But out of desperation for her to leave, he quickly acquiesces. “I, uhm—yeah, okay. Yeah. Give me half an hour.” 


“Oh, thank you, sweetie.” Marilyn’s face lights up and then, within a heartbeat she’s steadfast on her heels, heading back downstairs to cater to the commotion.


When he shuts the door, Dean feels a swarm of regret and frankly, irritation come over him. He waddles back into the bathroom where Y/N stands in nothing but a towel, combing her fingers through her hair and their eyes meet in the mirror.


“Well?” Her head is tipped to the side as droplets trickle from the tips.


“It was your mom.” He explains. “She wants me to go get the reverend, so….”


“So you’re going right now?”


“What do you think?”


“Geez, okay,” She’s defensive, expression warping into one of confusion but Dean overlooks it. “No need to be snappy. This whole thing is almost over, just one more day.”


“Don’t remind me.”


“What?”


But he’s already out of earshot, out of the room and stalking down the hall with the keys clenched in his fist. Then on the way down, as if he wasn’t wound up already, he bumps into Rick in the lobby, and it feels like someone has just stuck a thorn into his side.


“Dean-o” Rick smiles, always smiles, when he sees Dean approaching. The green-eyed hunter’s eyes flicker from him to Marilyn standing to his left with a clipboard in hand and impatient scowl in place.


“Where to?” Rick asks him.


“He’s going to go pick up Reverend Loyd.”


“Really? You know where the church is?”


“I’m picking him up from the church?” A defeated expression forms and Dean lets his shoulders sag. Great. More work he’s not willing to do. Rick seems to notice his sudden disdain as he glances to Marilyn. 


“What did you think?” She prompts.


“That I’d meet him half way?” Dean’s voice is strained now, on the brink of yelling. He’s worked up. He doesn’t care that he’s worked up or that he’s on the verge of ripping Y/N’s mom a new one because this is all so sudden and ludicrous. I don’t have time to drive all the way out of town—I don’t even know where the bloody church is.” He bellows.


But right in time, when the elder Woman’s brows slowly climb higher up and a challenging, almost bored expression takes form, Rick steps in.


“I’ve been there for a couple of services.” He says, trying to calm the flame, eyes flitting from green to coffee brown—fire on fire, a shimmer of a challenge in both their eyes and Dean knows that it’s probably best they stop him from saying something he’ll regret later.


Clenching his jaw, the elder Winchester takes a step back. There still lies a stiffness in his posture. An unease as he glares at the woman before him. Rick plays the role of the pacifist better than anyone could in this situation as he focusses on Dean.


“If you don’t the way, why don’t I come along?”


“I’ve got GPS.”


“Sure that will be enough?”


“Dean…” It’s the sound of Marilyn, worn so thin her voice is acidic as both head turn to her. She’s growing impatient and you can see it in the way she clamps her eyes shut and paces her breathing. “Take him with you, or do I have to go do something this trivial myself?”


The elder Winchester swallows. “Yes ma’am.” Come his terse response and then with a roll of her eyes she sidesteps him and hurries off. 


The drive out of town is pungent with stilted conversation and an uncomfortable silence so ripe you could pop it with a pin.


Dean keeps his eyes on the road all the way, trying to ignore the man beside him. He’ll occasionally have to acknowledge Rick’s presence whenever he pipes up with directions, advising to go left instead of right or to go straight down the hill, but the elder Winchester stands firm in his abhorrence for this man. Blue-eyed Rick, charming, all smugness and no faults Rick. 


He despises his perfection because it is nothing short of a reminder of his own inadequacy: he didn’t grow up with Y/N, didn’t date her like some people did—didn’t touch her. Wishes he did.


But a wish, a mere yearning is as far as it goes.


The car skids to a sudden stop when Rick yells out that they are here. Dean hits the breaks lightning fast, and they make it fast enough to miss hitting a fire hydrating, both whipping forward with the stop. A stifled breath leaves Dean as he shuts his eyes, relieved.


“This is it.” Rick announces as he peers out at the colossal cathedral. Archaic and worn down by the years, it’s obviously a dinosaur, chipped pillars and intricate design and some sort of vine grown over the lower expanse of the building.


“Should I go get him, or?” He asks, turning in his seat. Dean is mum, staring straight ahead at the church. The air only tenses further until rick, waiting for a response, gives up. 


With a sigh, he then leans back in his seat, deflated as the ever-present smile melts away. Glancing at him through the corner of his eye, Dean catches him shaking his head.


“Look, Dean, I know you don’t like me, okay? You’ve…made  that….evidently clear by just being, well—“ Pulling a face, he waves a hand at the elder Winchester. “—this. So, I’m not gonna keep on trying to be your friend.”


“Good, ‘cause that’s the last thing I want.” The hatred brews potent. He knows it is petty, disillusioned and ridiculous and frankly insane to loathe a man who has been nothing but amicable since they got here, but he refuses to concede anything less than animosity. Rick is an enemy, his mind has already decided. A threat. A token, showing him a life he could have had. He is everything Dean is not.


“What is your problem, huh?” He snaps. “Seriously? When Y/N talked about you, I thought the Dean I’d meet was gonna be a cool guy who didn’t act like a total dick, instead I’m met with this grumpy old crow. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d think Sam was her boyfriend from description.”


“Alright, you know what? I didn’t agree to this, to this bullshit gab session and picking up the fucking reverend and all this crap, I agreed to be Y/N’s boyfriend. Just because I don’t do things the way you did when the two of you were horny teenagers, doesn’t mean shit.”


“Is that what this is about? Y/N and I dating?”


Dean says nothing as he shoves the door open with a shrill screech and clambers out. His blood is pulsing and he’s trying to think, he wants to think, but it’s hard with how heavy his heart feels.


At the sound of the passenger door opening, he whips around, finding a bewildered Rick staring at him.


“Dude,”


“Fuck off”


“You know that was years ago, right? I was bloody nineteen. We grew out of our feelings for each other.”


“Really?” His tone is acerbic and strained and he hopes you can’t pick up on the underlying hurt. “So on Thursday evening the two of you were just supposed to meet and catch up, yeah?”


“Yes!”


It goes quiet for a moment. Dean’s voice catches in his throat, his glare suddenly beginning to weaken. A stillness takes over him like a warm hug. His blood, formerly coursing through him like a violent storm, begins to calm, and it takes two seconds before he realize how stupid he sounds. How stupid he is.


Because, in a moment of insecurity and vulnerable jealousy he has just made a complete fool out of himself—and God, does it show in crimson-colored cheeks.
Clenching his jaw, the elder Winchester swallows. Straightens. The blood has drained from him and he suddenly feels cold, like he’s just seen the devil himself.


Rick stares at him incredulously. “Seriously? What else would it be? Y/N and I, we—“ With a defeated sigh, he snorts sardonically and then shakes his head. Belittles Dean; it says it all in the pitiful stare, in the way his head is tipped to the side and he looks at him like he is the smallest, most pathetic creature walking the earth.


“Wow. Talk about being insecure in the relationship.”


“You…” But he doesn’t give the hunter time to finish.


“Look, man, I’m gonna go get Loyd. Ceremony starts in two hours.”


And then just like that he pivots around and saunters into the church.


Dean is left alone outside. Stationary, gaping and somewhat disoriented. Ashamed—God. God, this is a new level of low that he cannot climb up from, and he hurries back into the car to save himself from being seen by anyone else. Shuts the door. Lets out harried breaths he’s been stifling. This is a mess. He is a mess. When Rick gets back a few minutes later he interrupts the hunter’s rumination as he enters the car with the reverend in tow.


The drive home is worse than he’d imagined. A collection of hasty side-glances and wooden conversation. Dean is grateful to get to the hotel. He parks the car then lets the pair out, but remains, hands still curled around and the wheel and heart heavy as they leave. He ponders. Tries to muster up some confidence, faux-excitement for the wedding all for Y/N.


And apparently it works; when he makes his way out onto the terrace, his friends can barely decipher his mood.


“How do we look?” Y/N asks as soon as she sees him, grinning like the wild child she is. She turns around a couple of times to show her dazzling dress.
With a breath of a laugh, Dean nods his approval. “Great. You all look great. Hell—even you Cas.”


With a subtle smile, the angel nods. The mood is jubilant. Guests are gathering and taking their seats, Y/N practically bouncing out of her shoes as she watches familiar faces fill the garden.


She holds his arm like an ecstatic little girl, awe-struck eyes trained on a dark woman with her hair done in bantu knots. “Miss Aubrey Peters.” She states. “I remember her from childhood. She worked with my mom and, practically every afternoon she’d be at our house helping out with the accounting for the business.”


Y/N’s mother is a florist so Dean doesn’t know how much accounting goes into flowers, but he politely nods along, bemused by her enthusiasm.


“Oh—and there’s Mister Kheal, S/P/N philosophy professor.”


He almost scoffs. “Who invites their professor to their wedding?”
“My sister, apparently. I can’t blame her. They were close, she aced all his classes.  A drawn out sigh follows her explanation. Resting her head on his shoulder, her grip around his arm doesn’t loosen.
“I’m trying to keep in mind what you told me—about starting a new life? You were…right. Seeing these people now reminds me that any good I had before I left Boston was abundant enough to be taken along and even leave some behind.”


“Sooo what you’re saying is that I’m right?”


“In a way. Dean?”


He tips his head and looks down at her, meeting grateful, doe eyes.


“Thank you for doing this. I’ll never forget it, the fun we’ve had. Your help. I know I can always count on you, and…well….that’s a nice thing to be assured of.” Y/N finishes with another one of her warm smiles and it is routine. Dean splinters. Falls further. Harder. He can’t help it, but he wants to lean down and kiss her, he can lean down and kiss her if he’s brave enough but he is too big of a coward. And when he opens his mouth to speak, the words are stolen from him as Aunt Steph then appears to drag her niece away to begin the march.


“Take your seats, if you will, everyone.” Marilyn calls from the altar, yelling over the buzz of conversation. People shuffle aside and perch themselves in their chair as the ceremony begins. 


Clearing his throat, Dean shakes himself and scuttles to his seat in the front.
The garden quiets almost instantly once everybody has sat down, the voices reduced to hush mumbles and whispers that soon die out when the Reverend and the groom’s party walk in. He swallows. Weddings have never been easy. They never will be. Reverend leans in to whisper something in Japheth’s ear and the entire congregation waits patiently, before he nods, straightens out and then instructs for the music.


The guitarist is Y/N’s cousin Jacob and he is brilliant, starting the service with the steady pluck of the strings. He plays the instrument like it is the body of his lover, attentive and intimate, eyes shut in focus. Beautiful. Beautiful, but not enough to ease the hammering in Dean’s chest. He gulps, adjusting the bowtie around his collar. The symphony picks up then slows, and then the elder Winchester turns his head when he feels a tap on his shoulder.


“Look….”Sam whispers, pointing down the aisle.


He turns.


And surely, there they are, the bridal party, floating in like angels on a cloud. All elegance, all poise. The music, so ethereal and sweet, is the perfect ode as the girls one by one make their way to the altar. Dean feels sweat bead at the nape of his neck. He watches each go by: Jackie, Emma…


And then there’s Y/N.


Dressed in that dress, his dress, his choice he just half-heartedly pulled out from the rack, but looking at her now, Dean can’t help but think that maybe it wasn’t so incidental. Maybe this is a sign, a furtive hint from the big guy that they have a chance, maybe he knows her more than he thinks, and he tries to hold onto that hope for the rest of the night.


She is still at the start of walkway, waiting for Emma to align herself at the front, and then she is ushered on by her aunt standing behind her.


Even with all the intricacies of the day, even with the focus being solely on S/P/N and her vows, Dean, watching her saunter down the aisle, is as sure as he is that the sky is blue, that Y/N is the most beautiful part of the day. He watches her intently, awestruck, stunned into silence. Cas and Sam chuckle behind him. He’s pretty sure one of them even pokes him in the side at one point, but he’s too engage to even notice.


And when she passes him, eyes lingering for just a second too long on his face, the furtive smile and wink thrown his way do not go unnoticed.


                                                   ~*~*~*~      
As always, likes reblogs and follows make my day. Also thank you to everyone who has shown this story love, it is very encouraging.

take this burden - part 29

[ pockets full of no - coast modern ]

-

Jian Yi’s phone chimed.

‘I’m going to go assure the new bouncer that Zhengxi isn’t here on a bust. I’ll be right back.’

Mo Guan Shan and Janie nodded.

‘Thank god he won’t be finding the opium den in the back, right?’ Mo Guan Shan joked.

‘No opiates, but they’d probably be pissed about Julio’s stash.’

‘Of opium?’ He asked in surprise.

She laughed.

‘No opium. He mostly just deals weed and hallucinogens in the back.’

‘I…can’t tell if you’re joking.’

‘Not at all.’ She assured him.

‘He’s one of the only reasons we keep this place running.’

‘You have an onsite drug dealer?’

She smiled, pouring two more drinks.

‘How long have you been here?’

‘In Las Vegas?’ He asked.

‘Yes. In Las Vegas.’

‘Oh…a little over two months.’

‘You’ve been here for two months and we haven’t met you?!’ She demanded.

‘I just met He Tian on Monday.’

She handed out the drinks she’d been making and stood in front of him again.

‘You MET him on Monday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like…last Monday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Seven days ago?’

‘…Yes.’

She studied him intently.

‘All jokes aside, how the fuck did you…’ She gestured in the direction He Tian had left, at a loss.

‘I honestly don’t know. It’s only just setting in how weird it apparently is.’

‘Even with-’

‘Even with Jian Yi and Zhengxi, yeah.’ He finished for her.

She furrowed her brow, turning away to take orders, continuing the conversation immediately when she came back.

‘Did you guys meet on a dating site or something?’

Mo Guan Shan laughed.

‘No, he just stumbled upon me.’

‘That’s crazy.’

He understood her confusion it seemed pretty normal at this point, but it was starting to get to him.

Mo Guan Shan wasn’t necessarily an insecure person, but…damn.

‘Am I not good enough for him, or something?’ He asked, trying to keep any bitterness out of his tone.’

She paled.

‘No, no, no that is NOT what I meant! I didn’t mean to-’

He held a hand up to silence her.

‘It’s ok, I’m just trying to figure it out.’

‘I mean…I can tell you if you actually want to hear it.’

‘I do.’

Did he?

‘I don’t want you to stop liking him or anything…’

‘Don’t worry about that.’

She nodded, taking few more orders before pulling her own stool up behind the bar.

‘Alright. Well, I was one of the first people he hired. I’ve been here since it opened and I, like everyone, totally fell for him. I mean, he’s smart and funny, and one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen…’

Mo Guan Shan nodded.

All true.

‘Please keep in mind that I was barely 21 at this point and thought I was just the shit.’

Mo Guan Shan smiled.

She looked away.

‘So I…tried to get with him.’

‘…’

‘He didn’t go for it. Turned me down immediately and never brought it up again.’

Mo Guan Shan nodded, encouraging her to continue.

‘Well, I was pretty insecure at the time from a few weird situations and assumed…’ She trailed off.

‘Assumed…’ Mo Guan Shan prompted.

‘I assumed he wasn’t into black girls. I know now that it was a ridiculous conclusion and I really hurt his feelings when I accused him.’

‘Alright, so he wasn’t into the girls he hired?’ Mo Guan Shan asked.

‘Nope. He’s always been a perfect gentleman with his employees. So, for awhile, we all assumed he was just a really nice guy.’

‘Maybe he just wanted his relationships to be private?’ Mo Guan Shan suggested, already knowing that wasn’t the case.

‘I don’t know, man. He’s here LITERALLY all the time. There was no way he could find time to keep up a healthy relationship.’

‘So, you realized you were wrong? About the gentleman part?’

The nodded, looking around to make sure no one was listening in.

‘Yeah. When business started to pick up, he went home with someone new on a regular basis. Mostly men but a there were some women in there too. It wasn’t a big deal, it’s not like he’s the only one that does it.’

‘I’m not seeing your point here.’

‘My point is, it’s odd to know someone for years and never see them even go home with the same person twice. So, you can imagine how odd it seems.’

Mo Guan Shan found he had no response to that.

She continued.

‘These last few days are the longest He’s ever been gone. A few of us honestly thought something awful had happened. Jian Yi had to come in and set the record straight.’

‘What did Jian Yi say?’

‘That he was on vacation. Which sounded like total bullshit.’

‘Why?’

She regarded him skeptically.

‘God, you really did just meet him. He’s not really the VACATION type. He won’t even take two days off in a row. He gives us all the holidays off and handles everything alone. It’s insane.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Yeah. So, since Monday, he’s only been here a few times and was clearly itching to leave. And then he up and leaves for several days. And then comes back with some mystery man. Tell me that’s wouldn’t surprise you.’

‘You’re right, I’m sure it would.’ Mo Guan Shan agreed.

‘Has he been with you the whole time?’ Janie asked.

Mo Guan Shan thought about that for a moment.

‘With the exception of a few hours here and there, yeah.’

Her expression was difficult to read.

‘Are you an asshole?’ She asked seriously.

‘Not… to my knowledge. Why?’

‘Because I don’t know how to give the if-you-hurt-him speech.’

Mo Guan Shan smiled.

‘Consider it given.’

They regarded each other in silence.

She turned away to take a few more orders.

He finished his drink.

She brought him a beer.

‘What happened to Jian Yi?’ He asked.

She nodded to his right.

Jian Yi was leaning against the wall a few feet away from the door.

Zhengxi propped himself up with a hand next to Jian Yi’s head.

The pose would normally be construed as intimate, but Zhengxi’s uniform made it look vaguely threatening.

People were watching them uncomfortably.

Honestly, it was hilarious.

Mo Guan Shan pulled his phone from his pocket, typing out a quick text.

Seconds later, Jian Yi pulled his from his pocket and began to laugh, holding the phone for Zhengxi to see.

They both looked to Mo Guan Shan.

Zhengxi took Jian Yi in his arms, kissing him passionately.

The audience they’d gathered applauded.

Jian Yi bowed.

Zhengxi laughed, embarrassed but ever indulgent.

‘Are you going to be working here?’ Janie asked suddenly.

‘I think so, yeah.’

‘What are you going to be doing?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Come be a bartender!’ She suggested excitedly.

‘I tried that once. It did not go well.’

‘Well that’s because you weren’t trained by me.’

He hesitated.

‘I actually have no idea what he has planned for me.’

‘If you have a choice, promise you’ll come bartend with me.’

‘Why would you even want me to?’ He asked, honestly baffled.

‘Oh, let’s see…’ she began sarcastically.

‘So far, you seem have a great attitude, fantastic sense of humor, and you’re absolutely gorgeous…’

‘All good points.’ Came a voice from behind him.

‘He Tian! Please tell me he’s going to be a bartender! Look at all the trouble he’s already caused. He’s perfect!’

He Tian laughed.

‘While his penchant to start trouble becomes him, I have a few positions he can choose from-’

‘And one of them is bartender?!’ She demanded.

‘Yes, Jane. One of them is bartender. Get back to work.’

She saluted him, turning back to her customers.

He Tian led him to a small office in the back of the bar.

He Tian sat behind the desk.

Mo Guan Shan sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs across from him.

He Tian sorted through one of the many stacks of paper.

‘I am just now remembering that I don’t have your resume or any paperwork for you and this is completely pointless.’

‘Oh…I can pull my resume up online if you want, but none of my past jobs are remotely related.’

‘We can pretend you did that.’

‘I can give you some references…’

‘We can pretend you did that also.’

Mo Guan Shan nodded.

‘That works for me.’

‘Alright, what I need is…I don’t want to call it… I haven’t been actively trying to hire anyone because…’

‘Dude.’

‘I need an assistant. Not like someone to bring me coffee, just someone that can talk to my employees without making them cry. Try as I might, that is not my strong suit and everyone that works here is either an asshole or crazy.’

‘Why me?’

‘Well, everyone I’ve introduced you to seems to adore you right off the bat and, so far, you’re only outwardly cruel to me.’

‘You’re not going to say I’m not crazy.’

‘No. I’m pretty sure you’re out of your mind.’

‘That’s fair. So what does the position entail?’

‘Mostly just helping me keep track of paperwork and bills, reminding me to do things I promised to do, talking to people for me. Stuff like that. Technically it’s filed under ‘manager’ so you’d be getting a manager’s pay as well as benefits after a month.’

‘I’ll take it.’ Mo Guan Shan told him with a small smile.

‘Really? You don’t want to think about it first?’

‘Nope, I’m in.’

He Tian could stop his smile as he passed Mo Guan Shan some papers to sign.

‘When do I start?’

‘It’s a salaried position, so technically…’

He took the papers from Mo Guan Shan and finished up his own signatures.

‘…right now.’

Mo Guan Shan stood and walked behind the desk.

He Tian was expecting a hug or a handshake or some other of gesture of gratitude.

Instead, he stopped directly in front of him.

He Tian sat back in his chair, wishing he’d bought one with wheels so he could more easily put some distance between them.

Mo Guan Shan leaned back against the desk.

‘So, this is the part where I do you some kind of sexual favor, right?’ He asked as casually as one would ask about the weather.

He Tian closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.

‘Unfortunately, no.’

Mo Guan Shan smiled, stretching his arms above his head

‘Too bad, maybe next time.’

He Tian looked down at the strip of exposed shit between his jeans and shirt, catching a glimpse of silver where his pants had started to slip.

Oh fuck.

‘I thought you said you weren’t going to wear those.’

Mo Guan Shan lowered his arms, looking down at He Tian and following his gaze.

He lifted the front of his shirt again, slowly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them to expose enough of the garment to confirm He Tian’s suspicions.

‘These?’ he asked innocently.

‘Yes. Those.’

He Tian’s voice was strained and rough.

He knew he should look away.

He should stand up and walk out of the office…

‘No, I said I wouldn’t wear the sequined ones. These are just silver.’

He Tian was at a complete, desperate, loss as Mo Guan Shan toyed with the waistband of his thong.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He Tian moved forward in the chair, spreading his legs to get as close to Mo Guan Shan as possible.

He put one hand on his thigh, using the other to pull the front of the ridiculous underwear and placed several wet, open-mouthed, kisses from the hollow of his hip to the crease of his thigh, shivering at the sensation of smooth skin under his tongue.

He shaved.

Of-fucking-course he did.

‘Oh my God.’ Mo Guan Shan whispered, running his fingers through his dark, silky hair.’

He Tian froze, pulling back suddenly.

Mo Guan Shan was beautifully flushed and practically panting.

‘Why are you doing this to me?’ He Tian asked with a groan.

Mo Guan Shan adjusted himself, fixed his jeans, and leaned forward, bracing himself on the back of He Tian’s chair and whispered in his ear.

Reunion

Hey so I’m still alive, which is pretty neat I guess, so enjoy this fic, and please give feedback!

Word Count: 2,143


Nico let tears stream down his face as he lay beside his daughter Allegra, who was finally allowed to join their family that day. He wept out of love for his adopted daughter (the paperwork was made official and she was allowed to live with him as of that morning) and he wept for the fact that his husband had never met her in person yet.

Will was deployed overseas and had to go back before things had moved along too far in the adoption process. The most he had seen were pictures. He was supposed to video call tonight, but Nico knew that plans like that were very loose. Which is why Nico always kept his phone on hand, always ready for a call or text from his husband, even if it got him in trouble at work sometimes.

He ran to his computer as quickly as he could when he heard it ringing. Allegra stirred but didn’t wake up. He ran his fingers through his hair as he hit accept, his smile beaming. “Hey,” Nico breathed out a content sigh when he finally saw his husband again.

“Where’s my little girl?” Will was dressed in his uniform, and the bags under his eyes were impressive. He clearly hadn’t shaved in a week or two. The room was loud around him, but he had headphones in.

“She’s asleep, but I’ll go get her. One moment,” Nico put the laptop on the coffee table and went back to their room to grab their two year old daughter, waking her up in the process. “I’m sorry, but someone very special wants to meet you.” She looked confused but followed Nico to the living room, sitting on his lap on the couch. “This is your Dad, Allegra. Can you say hi?”

Will didn’t even try to hide the tears that were welling up in his eyes, and his next words sounded quite choked. “Hey beautiful! Your Papa and I have waited so long for you to join our little family.”

Allegra had grown up neglected, and her speech was seriously delayed and we already had her on the waiting list for speech therapy. “Da.” She leaned against Nico’s chest and her eyes were closing, it was late and she’d had a very long, eventful day.

“That’s right, I’m your Dad.”

“I miss you so much.” Nico hid the pain behind his words.

“I-” The connection was lost.

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The Perfect Dish (3)

Ten x Rose restaurateur/food critic AU

Word count: 834 |  All Ages (for now)  |  Part 3/?

AO3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Chapter summary:  John and Jack begin to make plans, and Rose tells all to her readers.




“See?  What did I tell you.”  This time it was John’s turn to shove his phone under the nose of his friend.

Jack quickly scanned the email conversation.  “Huh…” he said, genuinely surprised.  “Wow.”

John scowled.  “Wow?  That’s all you can say?  After your speech about the world of culinary criticism?”

“Hey, I stand by my original statement.  Just ‘cause the Chippie Chickadee doesn’t fit the mold doesn’t mean the mold doesn’t exist.”

John rolled his eyes.  “Whatever. Anyway, I need you to help me plan the evening.  I’ve got the perfect dish in mind, but I want everything about the experience to be on point.”

Jack raised an eyebrow.  “'On point’? What is this, a date?”

“What?  No!”  John felt his cheeks color.  “For god’s sake, I don’t even know what she looks like. She might be an 80 year old woman.”

“Age-ist.”

“Stop it.  Will you help me?”

“Sure.  Whatcha need?”

“I need you to take Donna on a date.”

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They Ship It

Words: 919
Bruce Banner X Reader
Prompt: “ All our students ship it” Teacher AU
(Prompt via @dailyau & @edge-of-bizarre. Not my gif.)


“Excuse me, Miss [Y/L/N], Do you know what shipping is?” One of your tenth grade students raised her hand. It was the middle of a Wednesday and your class was supposed to be reading Romeo and Juliet. For whatever reason they had all decided that task was beneath them. You didn’t really push the issue since their lessons were a few weeks ahead of schedule anyway.

“Shipping?” You repeated. “You mean like shipping a packages from one place to another?” Several of the students around the class erupted into fits of giggles.

“No,” A boy in the front row gasped through his fits of laughter. “shipping is when a person or group of people want two people to be a couple. Like how Juliet’s dad really wants her to end up married to Paris. You could say Lord Capulet ships them. Their ship name could be Julius.”

“Julius. Juliet and Paris. Like Bradgelina, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.” You nodded to show them that you understood. “Well, thanks for catching me up on this, let’s all turn our attention back to our books alright?”

“The reason why I ask,” The first girl from the back of the class spoke up again. “Is because…most of us in the tenth grade class we had a poll on Facebook. And we decided together that we ship you with Dr. Banner.”

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Jeremy Corbyn speech

***CHECK AGAINST DELIVERY***

Jeremy Corbyn, Leader of the Labour Party, speaking at a speech in central London today, said:

Our whole nation has been united in shock and grief this week as a night out at a concert ended in horrific terror and the brutal slaughter of innocent people enjoying themselves.

When I stood on Albert Square at the vigil in Manchester, there was a mood of unwavering defiance.

The very act of thousands of people coming together sent a powerful message of solidarity and love. It was a profound human impulse to stand together, caring and strong. It was inspiring.

In the past few days, we have all perhaps thought a bit more about our country, our communities and our people.

The people we have lost to atrocious violence or who have suffered grievous injury, so many of them heart-breakingly young .

The people who we ask to protect us and care for us in the emergency services, who yet again did our country proud: the police; firefighters and paramedics; the nurses and doctors; people who never let us down and deserve all the support we can give them.

And the people who did their best to help on that dreadful Monday night – the homeless men who rushed towards the carnage to comfort the dying, the taxi drivers who took the stranded home for free, the local people who offered comfort, and even their homes, to the teenagers who couldn’t find their parents.

They are the people of Manchester. But we know that attacks, such as the one at the Manchester Arena, could have happened anywhere and that the people in any city, town or village in Britain would have responded in the same way.

It is these people who are the strength and the heart of our society. They are the country we love and the country we seek to serve.

That is the solidarity that defines our United Kingdom. That is the country I meet on the streets every day; the human warmth, the basic decency and kindness.

It is our compassion that defines the Britain I love. And it is compassion that the bereaved families need most of all at this time. To them I say: the whole country reaches out its arms to you and will be here for you not just this week, but in the weeks and years to come.

Terrorists and their atrocious acts of cruelty and depravity will never divide us and will never prevail.

They didn’t in Westminster two months ago. They didn’t when Jo Cox was murdered a year ago. They didn’t in London on 7/7. The awe-inspiring response of the people of Manchester, and their inspirational acts of heroism and kindness, are a living demonstration that they will fail again.

But these vicious and contemptible acts do cause profound pain and suffering, and, among a tiny minority, they are used as an opportunity to try to turn communities against each other.

So let us all be clear, the man who unleashed carnage on Manchester, targeting the young and many young girls in particular, is no more representative of Muslims, than the murderer of Jo Cox spoke for anyone else.

Young people and especially young women must and will be free to enjoy themselves in our society.

I have spent my political life working for peace and human rights and to bring an end to conflict and devastating wars. That will almost always mean talking to people you profoundly disagree with. That’s what conflict resolution is all about.

But do not doubt my determination to take whatever action is necessary to keep our country safe and to protect our people on our streets, in our towns and cities, at our borders.

There is no question about the seriousness of what we face. Over recent years, the threat of terrorism has continued to grow.

You deserve to know what a Labour Government will do to keep you and your family safe.

Our approach will involve change at home and change abroad.

At home, we will reverse the cuts to our emergency services and police. Once again in Manchester, they have proved to be the best of us.

Austerity has to stop at the A&E ward and at the police station door. We cannot be protected and cared for on the cheap.

There will be more police on the streets under a Labour Government. And if the security services need more resources to keep track of those who wish to murder and maim, then they should get them.  

We will also change what we do abroad. Many experts, including professionals in our intelligence and security services have pointed to the connections between wars our government has supported or fought in other countries, such as Libya, and terrorism here at home.

That assessment in no way reduces the guilt of those who attack our children. Those terrorists will forever be reviled and implacably held to account for their actions.

But an informed understanding of the causes of terrorism is an essential part of an effective response that will protect the security of our people, that fights rather than fuels terrorism.

Protecting this country requires us to be both strong against terrorism and strong against the causes of terrorism. The blame is with the terrorists, but if we are to protect our people we must be honest about what threatens our security.

Those causes certainly cannot be reduced to foreign policy decisions alone. Over the past fifteen years or so, a sub-culture of often suicidal violence has developed amongst a tiny minority of, mainly young, men, falsely drawing authority from Islamic beliefs and often nurtured in a prison system in urgent need of resources and reform.

And no rationale based on the actions of any government can remotely excuse, or even adequately explain, outrages like this week’s massacre.

But we must be brave enough to admit the war on terror is simply not working. We need a smarter way to reduce the threat from countries that nurture terrorists and generate terrorism.

That’s why I set out Labour’s approach to foreign policy earlier this month. It is focused on strengthening our national security in an increasingly dangerous world.

We must support our Armed Services, Foreign Office and International Development professionals, engaging with the world in a way that reduces conflict and builds peace and security.

Seeing the army on our own streets today is a stark reminder that the current approach has failed.

So, I would like to take a moment to speak to our soldiers on the streets of Britain. You are doing your duty as you have done so many times before.

I want to assure you that, under my leadership, you will only be deployed abroad when there is a clear need and only when there is a plan and you have the resources to do your job to secure an outcome that delivers lasting peace.

That is my commitment to our armed services.

This is my commitment to our country. I want the solidarity, humanity and compassion that we have seen on the streets of Manchester this week to be the values that guide our government. There can be no love of country if there is neglect or disregard for its people.

No government can prevent every terrorist attack. If an individual is determined enough and callous enough, sometimes they will get through.

But the responsibility of government is to minimise that chance, to ensure the police have the resources they need, that our foreign policy reduces rather than increases the threat to this country, and that at home we never surrender the freedoms we have won, and that terrorists are so determined to take away.

Too often government has got it wrong on all three counts and insecurity is growing as a result. Whoever you decide should lead the next government must do better.

Today, we must stand united. United in our communities, united in our values and united in our determination to not let triumph those who would seek to divide us.

So for the rest of this election campaign, we must be out there demonstrating what they would take away: our freedom; our democracy; our support for one another.

Democracy will prevail. We must defend our democratic process, win our arguments by discussion and debate, and stand united against those who would seek to take our rights away, or who would divide us.

Last week, I said that the Labour Party was about bringing our country together.

Today I do not want to make a narrow party political point.  Because all of us now need to stand together.

Stand together in memory of those who have lost their lives

Stand together in solidarity with the city of Manchester

And - stand together for democracy.

Because when we talk about British values, including tolerance and mutual support, democracy is at the very heart of them.

And our General Election campaigns are the centrepieces of our democracy – the moment all our people get to exercise their sovereign authority over their representatives

Rallies, debates, campaigning in the marketplaces, knocking on doors, listening to people on the streets, at their workplaces and in their homes – all the arts of peaceful persuasion and discussion - are the stuff of our campaigns.

They all remind us that our government is not chosen at an autocrats’ whim or by religious decree and never cowed by a terrorist’s bomb.

Indeed, carrying on as normal is an act of defiance – democratic defiance – of those who do reject our commitment to democratic freedoms.

 But we cannot carry on as though nothing happened in Manchester this week.

So, let the quality of our debate, over the next fortnight, be worthy of the country we are proud to defend. Let’s have our arguments without impugning anyone’s patriotism and without diluting the unity with which we stand against terror.

Together, we will be stronger. Together we can build a Britain worthy of those who died and those who have inspired us all in Manchester this week.

Thank you.

asphrodite  asked:

I don't know if you're still in the writing mood but here's a prompt if you're up for it: clark non-explicitly asking bruce out in the middle of conversations and never being taken seriously

(AN: I’m sorry this took a little longer, I’ve been working more days lately and there is a couple days between me writing the beginning of this and the end if things seem a little wonky. I hope you like it either way)

“He has to know right? I mean, it’s Batman.”

“Let it go, Bear.” Hal said not looking up from his magazine. The two were supposed to be on monitor duty, but the Lantern normal took this time to relax and maybe catch up on some sleep if he was partnered with someone reliable and there were very few more reliable than Flash. Except apparently when there was drama afoot.

“I can’t just let it go.” Barry sighed but reluctantly turned back to the monitors, far used to his friend’s routine. Between Justice League missions and Green Lantern duties, he couldn’t really complain if the guy fell asleep while working. Much. “It’s like watching someone slip on something in slow motion. It’s too late to warn them and you know it’s going to end in disaster.”

Hal snorted but didn’t object to the hyperbole. Of course Batman had to see it, they all had. It had been going on for months. Hell, maybe even years considering the two had known each other for far longer than the rest of them had.

Then again, he thought, glancing up towards where Batman and Superman were huddled over the plans for the Watchtower renovations. The guy does have the emotionally intelligence of a potato.

Supes was standing shoulder to shoulder with the Bat, a proximity that seemed only to be reserved for him, Diana and his forty friggin kids. The aforementioned Bat’s shoulders weren’t as tense as they normally were. If it was anyone else, Hal would have just narrowed it down to the years of familiarity they had on the rest of them, but the Lantern had only seen that particular extent of relaxation around the other man’s fifty-seven bat kids. Hal shook his head, turning back to his magazine and taking his own advice, letting it go.

“We need to fix the water pressure in the en-suite showers, but that can wait.” Bruce said, lens covered eyes scanning the plans as Clark nodded along. “It’s the satellite that needs immediate attention.”

“Did you see that new restaurant by the Planet earlier?” Clark asked as his friend lapsed into brief silence, most likely doing calculations in his head.

“I did. That meteor shower on Monday caused more damage than J’onn and I anticipated. Some of the panels will need to be replaced.”
“Well that’s probably because I needed to destroy an asteroid to make it a meteor shower. We should go there for lunch tomorrow instead of the diner.”

“Rosanne would stop giving you that free cheesecake if she found out we skipped out on the usual place. I can get new panels, but it might take a couple days.”

“I can loop around the planet a couple times every day until we get them. And okay, that’s fair.” Clark chuckled, thinking of the older waitress that normally took his and Bruce’s order whenever the former was in Metropolis. “Well how about we go there for dinner?” He suggested albeit hopefully.

“Can’t. Charity dinner. One that you’re covering.” Bruce hummed without missing a beat. “That’s impractical even for you, Superman. There might be a way I can get them as early as tonight, might have to involve Malone though.”

“Oh. Right, day job.” His shoulder’s sagged only the slightest bit and he raised a half amused eyebrow. “Malone has those kind of connections?”

“You’d be surprised. I’ll make the arrangements for after the dinner later. If I can get them, you’re going to have to do the heavy lifting.”

“Yeah, I can do that, B.”


He has to know. Dick thought watching Bruce and Clark crowd the monitor (Batcomputer as Nightwing had mentally dubbed it) looking over the results of the tests Bruce had ran on a strange metallic object that Clark had ‘ran into’ during one of his most recent battles. Clark’s hand rested on the top of the computer chair as he leaned forward for a ‘better look at the screen’, invading Bruce’s personal space. Rather than objecting to the proximity, B didn’t even seem to notice it. Which Dick knew was bullshit since his father figure was aware of almost everything in his environment. He was sure Clark was aware of this as well.

It was a familiar routine, one that Dick could trace back to his Robin days, when Clark and Bruce first began their uneasy truce that surcame to years of true friendship. Of course, back then he hadn’t been totally aware that Superman had been flirting with his guardian. Not until Jason had taken up the Robin mantle at least. He shook his head. At this point he wasn’t sure if Bruce was toying with the other man or if this had actually managed to evade the Batman’s noticed. Which he seriously doubted. The pattern was always the same; they did some actual work for a few hours, standing or working closer to each other than strictly necessary, then Clark would bring up a movie he was thinking about seeing (this week was the new King Kong movie, go figure) or a concert or restaurant he wanted to go check out and would casually invite Bruce along, only for it to go over the Bat’s head.

The worst part was, Dick knew Bruce was interested. He knew Bruce better than the older man knew himself sometimes. They all saw the softness in his eyes when it came to Clark, the inside jokes, the way the Man of Steel could just ‘pop by’ without getting the whole ‘my city’ speech (most of the time) anymore. So it baffled the eldest child a little. He didn’t know why he toyed with the other man like that. Maybe he decided he would lose interest, maybe he had somehow convinced himself that he was somehow a danger to the indestructible man like he had most people in his life. Maybe he convinced himself that relationships themselves were too dangerous, too distracting from his work.

Maybe, Dick thought as he watched Bruce’s lips twitch a little at some corny joke Clark had made before falling back into their neutral scowl. He thinks he’s the one being toyed with.

He shook his head and headed upstairs for something to eat, ruffling Damian’s hair as he passed him on the stairs.

“Try not to be as hopeless as them when you get older, okay?” He muttered, smirking at the confused look he got as he walked away.


Clark yawned and stretched, pushing up his glasses to rub at his eyes. Alien or not, staring at his computer screen for six straight hours had done nothing good to his eyes, or his back for that matter.

“So, even Superman gets uncomfortable in cheap office chairs.” He looked up in brief panic before his brain registered the voice. The shadows of the empty bullpen seemed to naturally surround Bruce, even when his Batsuit was traded for a nice Armani one. His lips were quirked in a small, amused smile as he approached his desk as he had many times before. “The job of an investigative journalist is never done I see.”

“Unfortunately not.” Clark chuckled, leaning back in the chair to better look up at him better. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Wayne?” He asked with a bit of a teasing grin. Bruce said nothing, just studying his face with those calculating blue eyes in a way that always made Clark want to squirm. Of course, if he did, that mean Bruce won. It became a game at some point, though he couldn’t say when, one he was almost sure he wouldn’t win. There was no winning with the Bat. He had even resigned to stop his advances, forfeit the game. He was content with being friends, that would be enough for him.

Of course with Bruce, it wasn’t that simple. Because, like most things with the Bat, the moment Clark thought he was out, Bruce changed the rules. The billionaire leaned down and pressed his lips against the reporter’s, who responded to the long dreamt about kiss immediately, cradling the back of his head, afraid it would end just as suddenly. When Bruce did pull away, he was smirking.

“Come on, you owe me dinner.”

Appointment with Loki (Final)

Last Chapter Guys! Thanks for going on this little journey with me, and I hope everyone is happy with the ending. If you missed a chapter catch up HERE first!

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Two overly-emotional, emo-music driven and ice cream fueled weeks later
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“Hello?” You slide down your counters to sit on the kitchen floor when you answer the phone and know Loki is on the other end. He had called that first Monday and you had asked him to give you some time before abruptly hanging up. Then early this morning you had texted him that maybe it had been enough time, if he still wanted to talk. And then you’d waited by your phone all day until dark, when he finally called.

“Hello, then, darling.” He says softly, so softly it almost hurts you to hear it.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper next and he sighs.

“Nothing to be sorry for, pet, I should have asked you when you were leaving. In all the weeks we were together I never once asked that and that is my fault. You can’t help that you had to leave Sunday.”

“It’s really not you’re fault.” You argue, and is he seriously apologizing after you ran out on him? “I just– freaked out. I mean, when you said you had to leave, I already had this goodbye speech prepared to give you Sunday morning and I wasn’t ready to say it all Thursday night so I just… didn’t. And the I thought it might be easier this way.”

“Is it?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“No this is pretty shitty. This has been the worst two weeks ever.”

Keep reading

Help me practice pt. 9

Author: theweirdymcweirderson

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Charlie Bradbury, OMC

Relationships: Dean Winchester×Reader, OMC×Reader(ish)

Word count: 2334

Warnings: nervous!Dean, hurt!Reader, jealous!Reader, jealous!Dean, hurt!Dean, feelings, friendly teasing

Summary: College!AU The reader has never been kissed and as a guy starts to take interest in her, she asks Dean, her best friend, to help her practice. After they kiss, none of them seem to be able to keep holding back the feelings they have for each other.

Notes: I can’t believe I’m posting chapter 9, I mean, how did that happen?
But I’m glad that you like the fic, guys, and thank you sooooo much for the support you’ve shown me!
Now, without further ado, enjoy! *kisses*

Tags: @alexstarnes1701 @beatlesobsessionlove @daydreamingintheimpala

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

That evening Charlie and Jo came by around 5 p.m. and you’d already prepared all the snacks you would eat during your pyjama party.

Since it was a nice day outside, you decided to sit on your porch and gossip a little. They were telling you the rumors they’d heard about Dean beating Dave, teasing you to no end, when Jo abruptly stopped.

“Woah! Who’s that?” You turned around to see who she was referring to, “Oh, that’s Steve, my new neighbour” They locked their gazes on you, with a curious expression on their faces.

“Care to elaborate on that, (Y/n)?” You thought about it for a second, sure, you’d talked to him a few times and he seemed nice, but you couldn’t really say that you knew that much about him.

“Uhm, he moved here when you were away…he’s a few years older than us and from what I was able to gather, he lives alone. Bobby told me he works for some important company”

“And you never thought of introducing us to the new hottie in your neighbourhood, because?…” You shrugged, “Well, I didn’t think it was important…”

“Dude, look at that ass!” Jo smirked at Charlie, who nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I know! Wonder how good he looks without a shirt on”

They chuckled as you shook your head at them, “Seriously, guys? I thought you were into girls…” They didn’t seem to acknowledge you, until you snapped your fingers in front of them.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate a fine specimen of human being, such as your neighbour” The three of you burst out laughing, at Charlie’s comment.

“Okay, but you should stop now. I mean, he’s not stupid, he’s gonna notice you staring!” You hadn’t even finished your sentence, that Jo turned around to look at you.

“I think he just did…” Your eyes widened, as you glared at them, “Oh crap, he’s coming here!” You wanted to slap the both of them, but before you could do anything you heard Steve’s voice.

“Hey, girls” You looked up at him and smiled, “Hey, Steve! How are you doing?” He smiled back at you, his blue eyes highlighted under the sunlight.

“Little tired, but other than that, I can’t really complain. What about you, girls?” Charlie, who was sitting closer to you, nudged your side, bringing your attention back on her.

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot! These are Charlie and Jo, my best friends” They held their hands out, and he shook them, before shifting his gaze back on you.

“I’m sorry, we’ve disturbed you…they were just curious cause they’ve never seen you around before…” Steve nodded, his smile still plastered on his handsome face.

“What? No, don’t worry about it, trust me! Actually, I thought about coming to say ‘hi’ when you first sat down…but I didn’t really want to cut you off, so thank you, ladies, for providing me an excuse”

He winked at your friends, and you felt your cheeks turn red, “Y-you don’t need an excuse to talk to me, Steve” You lowered your gaze, biting on your bottom lip.

“I’ll take you on on that, (Y/n)!” He smirked, and you smiled shyly, already knowing the amount of teasing you’d have to endure later from Jo and Charlie.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. It was a pleasure meeting you, girls, and (Y/n), hope to see you around as soon as possible!” He flashed you one last smile, as you said your goodbyes to him, and then walked back to his place.

You were grateful that Charlie and Jo waited until he had disappeared behind his door, before they started to squeal excitedly, “Wooooah! He likes you, (Y/n)!”

“What are you talking about? He’s just trying to be nice and get to know the people in his neighbourhood!” They raised their eyebrows at you in sync, and you had to suppress a giggle.

“Yeah, right. I bet he’s already asked Bobby to go out for a cup of coffee, hasn’t he?” You stuck your tongue out at them, getting up and walking inside.

“You should ask him to go to Alex’ party with you!” Charlie clapped her hands, as Jo nodded proud of her idea, “No way, guys! We barely know each other! Besides, I think I’m going with Dean like always”

A wicked smirk appeared on their lips, as they wiggled their eyebrows suggestively, sharing a look, “Oh my God! You keep that up, and this pyjama party will be over before it has even started!”

Right as the last words left your lips, your cellphone rang, and you knew from the ringtone, just like they did, that it was Dean calling you. They snickered as you glared at them, and grabbed your phone.

Your night went as smoothly as you had planned it. You watched some movies, gossiped about this and that, and ate some heavily unhealthy things, that you knew Bobby would scold you about later.

You didn’t go to bed too late, cause well, you still had some classes the following day, but you had fun nonetheless. They ended up skipping school the next day, while you went anyways.

Bobby drove you there this time, cause he had to go to the next town to get a piece for a car, and you’d told Dean you would see him before the first lesson.

You didn’t get the chance to talk to him before classes started, and Dean was grateful for that, cause he was still trying to calm himself down as he thought about what he had planned to tell you.

He couldn’t stop himself from daydreaming about you, which wasn’t really that unusual for him, but since Monday’s events, you seemed to be the only thing on his mind, literally.

He was chewing on the cap of his pen, as he went on on the speech he’d been rehearsing in his head for about three days now. ‘Damn it, Dean, calm down, it’s just (Y/n)!’

And that was exactly why he was so nervous. You had always been a constant in his life, and if he screwed up this whole thing, he would end up losing you.

Dean had finally decided to ask you out officially. He’d wanted to ask you on Monday, after your make out session in Baby, but he didn’t want you to think he was only asking because he wanted you to feel better about Dave. 

Charlie had cut you off right as he was about to ask you on Thursday, so now, he had to ask you before practice. The lesson seemed interminable as he glared at the ticking clock on the wall, and when the bell rang, his heart almost stopped in his chest.

He gathered his stuff and quickly left the class, locating you almost immediately in the hallway. You waved at him, and stopped by your locker, waiting for him to reach you.

“Hey, sweetheart!” You smiled and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, noticing how tense he was, “Hey! Is everything okay?”

Dean drew in a deep breath, calming himself down, “Uh…yeah! I just, uhm, I-I needed, no actually, I wanted to ask you…something” You nodded, not knowing what to say.

He stared at you for a few moments, and you felt your cheeks redden under his intense gaze, “I wanted-do you, I mean would you…God, this is way harder than I thought it would be!”

You smiled at him, taking his hand, which you noticed was a little sweaty, and intertwined your fingers together, giving it a soft squeeze. He seemed to relax a little then, and a smile spread on his lips as well, “Okay, (Y/n), I was wondering if you’d-”

“(Y/n)!” You turned around to see who was calling you, Dean doing the same, already cursing whoever was interrupting you, “Oh! Hey, Hannah! How’s it going?”

She smiled at you, “Pretty good, thanks, you?” She glance at Dean, and you got the hint, “Oh, right! This is my friend, Dean” You smiled and patted Dean’s chest as he stared down at you.

“Oh, you’re the guy who beat Dave! Thanks for that!” She winked at him and you chuckled, “So, (Y/n), I wanted to ask you if you’d like to study together for next week’s history test…”

You nodded and she told you she’d text you so that you could decide when and where to meet, before she was saying her goodbyes and leaving you and Dean alone again.

“Sorry for that, now, what did you want to ask me?” You flashed him a cheeky grin, and he felt his insides turn; your previous sentence ‘This is my friend, Dean’ stuck in his head.

“Uh, nothing important really…just, uhm, are we meeting after practice?” You stared up at him in confusion, he’d seemed so nervous earlier, “Yeah? Unless you have somewhere else to be…”

“No…no. I’ll see you later then, okay?” You nodded and were about to kiss him goodbye, but he was walking down the hall before you had the chance.

You knew there was something he was hiding from you, and you were going to ask him later about it. You went to the college library, where you always spent your time while waiting for Dean to finish with practice.

You studied and finished a paper you were due to turn in in two days, but you couldn’t really focus as Dean and his weird behaviour kept popping in your mind.

Once you were done, you walked back to your locker to leave the books you wouldn’t need there. You were walking down the hall when you heard Dean’s voice coming from the janitor’s room.

You knew he was talking to a girl since he’d addressed her as ‘sweetheart’. She giggled, and you felt a sting of jealousy in the pit of your stomach, “What happened to the girl who left that hickey on your neck on Monday?”

You swallowed as your eyes widened when you realized they were talking about you, “I-I…don’t think something’s gonna happen between the two of us…”

Your heart shattered in your chest, and you hurriedly walked away as silent tears began to stream down your cheeks.

“What’s the matter, Dean, she’s not your type?” He shook his head, averting his eyes from hers for barely a second, “Uhm, no. It’s just that she’s not interested in me…she only sees me as a friend”

She giggled again, and Dean was drawn back to the way you giggled at his stupid jokes, “Girl must be out of her mind…” He shrugged, smiling bitterly, “Or maybe she’s just real smart…”

He bit the inside of his cheek, before he finished his sentence, “What’s it gonna be? You’re up for tonight?” She nodded, leaning up to press her lips on his, before telling him that she’d give him a call.

She opened the door and left, Dean doing the same after he grabbed his stuff. He found you leaning against Baby’s door, your eyes locking on his immediately.

“Hey, (Y/n)” You barely smiled at him, and he wondered if he’d done or said something to get you mad, “You okay, sweetheart?”

It hurt to hear him calling you that way, but you didn’t tell him. You knew right from the beginning when you’d asked him to help you what you were signing for; you’d always been just a friend to him.

You wanted to be mad at him, to yell at him, but the truth was that you had no right to do so. You were friends, and that meant that he could date whoever he wanted.

“Yeah, just a little tired” You smiled at him and he nodded, unlocking the car and waiting for you to get in before he started it, “Well, let’s get you home so you can rest a little”

He parked in your driveway and you got out with him right behind you, “You think Bobby’s home?” You shrugged as you unlocked the door, “I don’t know, but you can wait for him if you want to”

Dean smiled at you, and you were about to walk in, when Steve approached you, “(Y/n), how are you?” You grinned at him, leaning against the doorframe as Dean stared at you.

“Fine, I see you’re working on your bike again” You gestured to his motorcycle and he nodded, “Yeah, as soon as it’s running again I’ll take you on a ride if you want to”

You chuckled at him and Dean felt the urge to bang his head against the door, “I’d love to!” You winked at him, and Dean huffed before walking inside, the whole scene was too much for him.

“That’s gonna take a while though, so I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner with me in the meantime” Steve flashed you a gorgeous smile, and you blushed furiously. 

“Uh, yeah! I mean, ehm, sure!” You locked your (e/c) eyes back on his, “How about tomorrow’s evening?” You nodded, and he clapped his hands together, before telling you he’d talk to you about it better when you’d be alone.

You walked in to find Dean leaning against the wall next the door with a pissed expression on his face, “Who’s that guy?”

“Steve, my new neighbour, thought you’d already met him” You walked to the kitchen and he followed you, “No, I haven’t. I'mma go now, I’ll just…give Bobby a call”

He turned around and left, not even bothering to say goodbye, but you were too excited to tell the girls that Steve had asked you out to notice.

themardia replied to your post “[[MOR] so I am still sad Lesley being a TERRIBLE PERSON has killed…”

I’m so ridiculously into this I can’t even explain how much. Please write all the fic where Beverley and Nightingale are ridiculously protective of Peter but are stealthy enough about it that Peter mostly has no idea/can ignore it at will.

BECAUSE WE DESERVE SOME NICE GODDAMN THINGS AFTER TODAY’S FUCKERY have this fic I accidentally wrote which is not really about your prompt at all except how it’s about Beverley and Nightingale trying to protect Peter from a) the flu and b) himself 

Keep reading

sparklefreeze  asked:

Hello again! This time I'm looking for sexy, accomplished Draco fics because I like my Draco snarky and confident rather than defeated and ruined like in so many Drarry fics I've read.. 😔 Thanks so much for your help! I would be swimming lost at sea over at AO3 otherwise because frankly this fandom is HUGE!

Hey sweetie! I love bitchy and prat Draco (if i understood you correctly, if not I am sorry!)! So I’ve got a few fanfictions for you! 

And Yes, this fandom is huge (I was there when there was at least 3 o 4 sites full of drarry fanfiction, and let me tell you I cried for days everytime that I lost a fanfiction xD)

  • Dancing Devils in His Eyes, by furiosity ( X ): Harry and Draco are forced to work together on an assignment. Draco’s been pursuing Harry for a while, but Harry has too little respect for Draco to take him seriously. Could anything in the world change that?
  • Dapper, by writcraft (NC 17): Draco starts wearing Muggle suits and Harry’s definitely losing his mind.
  • Draco, the Magic Dragon, by eluereh (NC 17): Come to the fair! Draco’s granting wishes, Harry’s investigating a mystery, and Luna’s giving away pants. Crystal balls and kissing, dirty talk and candy floss – and that’s just the beginning.
  • Every Little Means Trust, by ChannelTheFlannel (PG 13):Draco and Harry meet for the first time after the war in a wizarding veterinary office. A few spoiled pets, a few nosy friends, and a few surprise meetings at work make them realize they’ve a lot more in common than they had originally thought.
  • Like a Shag on a Rock, by jamie2109 (NC 17): Despite going to the other side of the world, sometimes you can’t escape from your past.
  • Make Me a Headline (I Want to be That Bold), by dicta_contrion (Explicit): Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that’s landed on his desk one Monday morning.
  • Matchmaking, by frostywonder (PG 13): When Hermione rushes off to the Amazon, Ron is left to handle their brooding third wheel but he’s never been especially good with emotional problems. Somehow, he drags Malfoy into the mix and the stupid Ferret steals the show.
  • Painting Potter’s Portrait, by Yo_mama (Explicit): When a painting of Harry and Malfoy doing the ‘afternoon delight’ makes an appearance at the Ministry. Harry makes it his personal duty to chase down the artist who drew this…disgusting…piece of art. Enter Draco Malfoy who also sees the painting as a personal affront and decides to join Harry in search of the painting and it’s artist.
  • Post-war Reconciliations, by Faithwood and Marguerite_26 (Explicit): Harry needs to make a speech about post-war reconciliations. Unfortunately, he’s a bit distracted.
  • Some Luck Lies, by fantasyfiend09 (PG 13):Draco planned to go to the Auror Academy to get his man back. Draco may have changed since the war, but the success rate of his plans has not.
  • The Boy and the Sleeping Prince, by phoenixacid and Writcraft (Explicit): Harry is miserable and tired of being an Auror, coasting through life until he’s forced to make some changes. Spurred on by his passion for drawing and working with best-selling author Draco Malfoy, Harry develops a charm which gives children a magical, interactive reading experience. But when it’s time to test the spell, the two men find themselves trapped in a nightmarish fairy tale world. Can they escape unscathed, or is Draco right in his assertions that there is no such thing as a happily ever after?
  • The If Sieve, by c'est what (PG 13):An If Sieve lets you see how things would have unfolded if somebody had made a different decision at a particular time.
  • The Secret Diary of Draco Malfoy: Aristocrat, Ne'er do Well, Rampant Homosexual, by croatoan60000 ( R ): Draco is the bitchy gay wizard equivalent to Bridget Jones. And he has a massive crush on a certain Boy Wonder…
  • The Shining Sun Is Up, by lettered (PG 13):  Someone at the Ministry has it in for former Death Eaters. Draco Malfoy launches his political career as a rebel. Harry thinks it’s all a laugh.
  • Unhook the Stars, by jad (Porn?): “Love is like a Rubix Cube: there are countless wrong twists and turns, but once you get it right, it’s perfect no matter how you look at it.” Seventy-thousand words of pornographic discourse between two boys-turned-men that still haven’t learned how to communicate like normal people — with words.Guest appearances by Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Teddy Lupin, Gregory Goyle, the Weird Sisters, ex-wives, several Weasleys, a Boggart, and a Honey Badger.
  • Unknown, by SilverDragon161 (Not Rated): At age 21 Draco has found himself in the oddest position, you see he’s just met the cutest guy in the world and he doesn’t even know who he is but the guy knows him. Now Harry is set upon winning the dragon’s heart, and he won’t stop till he gets it.

Thank you for your request, honey! Have a wonderful day <3

The First Date: Aftermath

Soooooo I thought I’d try my hand at a little fanfiction writing. This is a first attempt so….yeah. Some of the dialogue at the beginning is directly from the date quest so Pixelberry gets credit for that! Anyway I hope you enjoy it! Could maybe be more than a one-shot but we’ll see :)

Warnings: Some language
Around 1,200 words.


Alex walked into Hunt’s Monday lecture not quite sure what to expect, as amazing as the date was, nearly being caught by Jenni brought the reality of her and Hunt’s relationship to the foreground. The risks were real, and after all the time she spent trying to persuade Hunt that they were worth it the tables had turned. Hunt was very convincing in his “I’m in this, I’m all in” speech –plus that kiss, damn that kiss,— but over the last couple days Alex had spent too much time going over every possible scenario in her head and they all, for the most part, ended in flames. She sat next to Addison who shot her a mischievous grin, “Ready for today?”

Feigning ignorance Alex replied, “What about today?”

Addison rolled her eyes. “Oh come on! It’s the first class since the big night! Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about h—”

“Addison!” Alex whispered dangerously

“–im the whole weekend, I know I would be,” she finished with a dreamlike expression on her face.

Alex gave her a look. “Seriously, Addi you nearly gave me a heart attack. We can’t talk about that here.” Scanning the students around her Alex concluded that everyone was too wrapped up in their own drama to even notice the exchange. This relationship was really going to test her nerves.

Just then, Hunt walked into the class and cleared his throat. As the class began to settle he looked up at Alex and gave her a quiet smile before beginning his lecture. Her heart gave a flutter and she couldn’t help but smile back. Relaxing a little, Alex directed her attention towards Bianca and Jenni who had just sat in front of them loudly discussing what sounded like a fascinating conversation on the best tactics for stalking someone on social media. Hunt glared up at them. “What? It’s not like we missed anything,” Bianca snapped.

Addison raised her eyebrows at Alex and mouthed “wow”. While Bianca generally had a bad attitude, she was usually respectful towards Hunt; Alex was surprised by her brash response. Maybe Daddy reduced her credit card limit she thought smirking. Hunt wasted no time putting Bianca in her place; he looked down at the paper in his hand, a little smile pulled at his lips, a look that Alex knew meant he was about to verbally devastate someone.

“Well, perhaps not today, Ms. Stone, but clearly you missed some of the main points of recent lectures.”

As he handed Bianca back her paper Alex saw the ‘C’ emblazoned on top; she loved the way he could do that.

“A 'C’!? Do you even know who I am?” Bianca demanded.

“Believe me I’m well aware” Hunt responded, unimpressed.

Alex was reveling in the fact that her Hunt just shot down one of her least favourite people when she saw Bianca glance at Jenni, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. Oh shit.

“Well, Professor, I hope you’ll take a moment to reconsider. I may not have understood every part of your lecture, but I do know a very interesting tidbit about you and a certain someone dancing on Catalina Island.”

Alex’s stomach dropped and Addison shot her a panicked look.

“I saw you and her on Saturday night when I was at my uncle’s wedding!” Jenni added.

The class erupted in excited whispers. Alex’s mind was racing. She was trying to catch Hunt’s eye but he was staring furiously at Bianca and Jenni.

“I don’t know what Jenni thinks she saw, but I would advise you to reconsider your attitude right now, Miss Stone. The faculty does not look kindly on students who attempt to blackmail their teachers. You’re far better off studying than spreading silly rumours.”

Alex thought he must’ve lost his mind trying to call her bluff; she looked nervously at Bianca who surprisingly backed down. The matter settled, Hunt continued handing back papers. Once he was turned away from Bianca and Jenni, they started whispering; Alex leaned in to catch what they were saying.

“OMG, I can’t believe Hunt burned us like that. Not. Cool,” Jenni whined.

“Ugh, whatever. He’ll wish he’d changed my grade once we’re through with him. All we have to do is show everyone proof,” Bianca said confidently.

Alex was glad she could count on Hunt to be calm and collected, ever the professional, she thought smiling; but at the same time she hated that she had no idea what he was thinking. Was he actually worried? What did this mean for them? What was their next move? Alex had a million questions racing through her mind and before she knew it everyone was standing up. “Uh, Alex?” Addison said cautiously. “Time to go. Class is over and we’re meeting Ethan for lunch, like now.”

Brought back to reality she looked for Hunt. He was discussing the likelihood of him granting Jake an extension on their latest project and judging by the way his brow was furrowed the chances were not good. “Go ahead Addi, I…um…need to…”

“I figured.” She smiled encouragingly. “I’ll cover for you with Ethan”.

“Did I ever tell you how awesome you are for going along with all this insanity?” Alex said gratefully.

“You could mention it a little more often…” Addison pouted jokingly.

“Well, you are. I owe you a drink…although after this I might need more than one.” Alex saw that Jake had left. She suspected he’d received a brutal tongue lashing on time management and the reality of Hollywood’s deadlines.

“Good luck!” Addison squeezed her arm and left.

A few students were still milling about as she approached Hunt.

“I’m sorry, Jake but having a concert to go to isn’t enough to warrant a—oh”, his face softened. “How can I help you, Alex?”

“Um…Professor I was wondering if I could talk to you about…"—she paused fabricating a reason—"my grade on the most recent assignment.” Real original, Alex.

“Of course. Do you have a free period now? If you wouldn’t mind discussing it in my office I believe there’s another class starting here any minute.”

“That would be fine. Thank-you, Professor.”

The minute Hunt closed his office door Alex started, “Holy shit, wha—"and then she felt his lips, gentle but with purpose, against hers . Alex melted into it for a second before pulling away. Flustered, she tried to remember why they were there in the first place. "As wonderful as that was, not to mention bringing a significant number of fantasies regarding this office to life, I think we have some more important issues to address.”

Hunt raised his eyebrow. “Fantasies? Please, do tell.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Another time. We need to discuss what happened in class.”

Hunt sighed. “I know we do, but, I wanted to remind you why we’re doing this in the first place before…well…before you tried to end it.”

Even though that’s exactly what she had been considering Alex was taken aback. “And what makes you think I’d try to end it?”

Hunt locked eyes with her. “Honestly, I’d be disappointed if you weren’t. It’s the logical choice. We both knew that there’d be risk involved with us. Having our fatal flaw exposed so early in our relationship is probably a giant, neon sign telling us to stop while we still can; while it’s still conjecture and rumour; while all Bianca and Jenni have what is most likely a blurred photo. It’s safer…” She felt a knot in her stomach as he said this. It was all trueIf they ended this now, they could both get out of it unscathed. “But,” Hunt stepped closer, his face inches from hers, “in spite of all that, I hope you’ll stay.”


Link to Chapter 2

Link to Chapter 3

Link to Chapter 4

Of Steadfast Feelings and Lingering Stares

Prompt: Person A of your OTP always wears baggy clothes that are too big for them. Person B does a good job of hiding their crush on them, until Person A shows up one day in clothing that actually fits. Cue Person B choking as they run their eyes over every inch of Person A’s body, trying desperately to act normal despite their sudden surprise and intense dirty thoughts. Bonus: Person C is in the background laughing, complimenting Person A and asking if Person B likes what they see.

I just felt like doing this prompt, so here it is! It’s a riarkle College AU drabble. I tried to intertwine one of my favorite poems, “Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art” by John Keats, into this. If you’ve never read anything by John Keats, I would highly suggest it.

Thanks for reading!

Winter comes to an end, and the weather is finally warm enough to leave the heavy coats and baggy sweaters behind.  Spring demands to be welcomed on this particularly sunny Monday, but Farkle doesn’t think twice about it as he throws on a black t-shirt and jeans before his afternoon class.

Maya, Farkle, and Riley are taking some core courses together to make them slightly more bearable. Maya and Farkle are sitting in their poetry class waiting for their professor to arrive. They’re already settled down in their seats and having a conversation when Riley comes through the door.

Farkle immediately senses her presence, but no one else turns to look. No one else seems to care as she enters the room. Just Farkle’s eyes are drawn to her. In that moment, he’s inclined to stop thinking altogether because she’s wearing a flowy, orange dress that cuts off mid-thigh and her hair is in a high ponytail that bounces with her every move.

Farkle’s mouth drops open slightly as he takes in the sight of her. It seems like it’s been forever since he’s seen her dress like that, and with every year that passes, he doesn’t understand how she continues to get even more beautiful.

He’s totally oblivious to the fact that he’s staring at Riley as she walks over to them. Maya notices Farkle’s reaction, though, and lets out a low laugh.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m later than usual. I had to stop at the bookstore,” Riley says a little out of breath from rushing to her seat.

Maya exaggerates each word as she says, “Riles, you look really cute today.”

“Thanks, peaches!”

Maya continues, “And you’re wearing orange. It’s so bright and pretty.” Then, Maya turns to Farkle and smirks. “Farkle, isn’t that your favorite color?”

Farkle shoots her a glare but then turns to look at Riley as he stutters, “Y-yeah it is. You look great in orange, Riley.” 

Their professor comes through the door at that moment, and Farkle lets out a relieved sigh at the seriously needed distraction. He reaches into his backpack to find his notebook as the professor begins speaking.

“Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art-”

The professor accentuates the words as he recites “Bright Star” by John Keats. As he continues speaking, Farkle feels Riley lightly grab his shoulder to get his attention. She mouths “thank you” to him with a light blush spread across her cheeks.

Farkle smiles in return and begins to fully tune into what the professor is saying. As he listens to the words of the poem, he realizes that out of the corner of his eye he can see where Riley’s orange dress ends and her long legs begin. He lets his eyes linger on her bare knee that is dangerously close to his. The trance he’s in is broken when the professor’s speech gets louder.

“Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath. And so live ever—or else swoon to death.”

Farkle lifts an eyebrow after the professor delivers the last line. He’s trying to decipher the meaning of the poem when he feels Riley’s leg brush against his. He fights the urge to look over at her as he attempts to gain control of his heartbeat, but he can already tell that this is going to be a hard class to get through.

midnightoverlord  asked:

Bellarke + 19?

parents meeting when they take their kids to class au

Wow, I am incapable of keeping these short, so I put the rest under the cut. But this was so fun!! Thanks for the ask, hope you enjoy!


“Daaad, come on, I don’t wanna miss it, it’s—”

“Picture day, I know, I know. I’m coming.” Bellamy rounds the car, smiling at his little girl obediently bouncing on her toes in one spot. Brunette curls fall to her shoulder, held back by a blue hairband that matches her t-shirt.

Thank god for Octavia helping him out, or they’d still be in the house trying to figure out what to wear.

Thea takes his hand and pulls, hard. Bellamy chuckles and walks alongside her, listening to her chatter about Balto and why they should totally have a dog until she pauses mid-sentence and waves frantically into the distance.

“Riley!!”

A blonde girl turns, her face lighting up in equal joy as she spots Thea. She takes off running towards them, followed closely by her mother. Bellamy recognizes her. They’d met at the parents’ night early in the school year. She already stood out in her blue scrubs, but it was the way she pushed aside her clear weariness to greet not just her own daughter but the other kids, chatting with the teachers politely and putting her kid’s needs first— that was what Bellamy had noticed.

Now he sees her every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, dropping off Riley right as he drops off Thea.

Riley reaches them first, arms wide for a hug. Her mom smiles at the two girls, then more hesitantly at Bellamy, her eyes roaming over his form like she’s trying to place him from somewhere.

“Good morning.”

“Morning,” he replies. “Ready for picture day?”

Her smile widens. “Definitely. Though,” she leans in closer, whispering, “I can’t believe we actually made it out the door on time.”

He grins. “Trust me, I get it. My sister is the only reason we’re here.”

Understanding flashes across her face. “Just you guys, huh?”

“Yeah. Her aunt’s a big help. And she has many uncles ready to spoil her at a moment’s notice.” He looks at Thea fondly. “They’re not blood, but they’re still family.”

“That sounds nice. It’s good that you have that.” She sounds wistful.

“And you?” Bellamy finds himself asking. “Is it just you two also?”

She nods. “Mostly. Grandma’s a big help, when she’s not working. We trade off on transportation twice a week.” That explained her schedule. She looks down when her daughter tugs at her shirt.

“Mom, this is my friend I told you about! Althea! Isn’t her name so cool?”

“That is cool,” she agrees, crouching. “You’re a very lucky girl, Althea.”

Thea beams as Bellamy squeezes her shoulder. “You can call me Thea,” his daughter says, remembering her manners.

“Thea it is. My name is Clarke.”

“Clarke.” Thea repeats it once more, softer, then looks up at him, dark eyes wide and a little too innocent. “That’s a pretty name, isn’t it dad?”

Bellamy nods in agreement, absently wondering if Thea’s been spending too much time with O. Then he glances at Riley, who’s studying him about as curiously as her mother. 

“Riley, right? I hear you have great taste in stories.”

The girl straightens and smiles toothily, dimpling her cheeks. “Mom reads me the best books at night,” she says confidently.

The sound of the first morning bell makes them all turn. Bellamy leans down for a kiss and hug from Thea, promising to see her in the evening after work. “Be good for Aunt Octavia,” he murmurs.

“I will dad, bye! Bye Clarke!” She yells.

Clarke waves after receiving her own hug from Riley. They watch the girls skip into the school together arm in arm, already exclaiming over another topic.

Bellamy turns to her and holds out his hand. “I’m Bellamy, by the way.”

“Hi, Bellamy.” Clarke’s smile is considerably less tentative, and just as a captivating. He holds her hand a few seconds longer than necessary.

Because she doesn’t seem in a rush to move, he says, “So you work at the hospital, right? You came to Parents’ Night in scrubs,” he adds hastily.

“Yeah,” she grins, a bit sheepish. “I was hoping to change after my shift, but I got held up… barely made it on time. But I wanted to be here, for Riley’s sake. I hate missing any of this stuff.”

He smiles. “It’s fun, getting to watch them grow up. Scary as hell, but fun.”

Clarke laughs with him, and it’s a beautiful sound.

~~~~~~~

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anonymous asked:

why do you think so many trump supporters believe in conspiracy theories and whatever trump tells them?

Because if you understand nothing, you’ll believe anything. They aren’t gullible; they are ignorant.

And, by the way, the ignorance starts right at the top with their candidate. Trump was out-maneuvered by the Cruz campaign in Colorado where the state GOP didn’t hold a primary or caucus this cycle and Trump’s response – after the Colorado delegates committed to support Cruz, who understood the process and worked to win their support – was to whine about how it was “unfair”. He acted as if this was something that just suddenly happened when, in fact, the Colorado GOP decided against holding a primary or caucus in August 2015 (I even answered a question about it in January or February) and it was known then that their delegates would be unbound. Cruz’s campaign had been wooing delegates and Colorado Republican leaders for months, as any competent campaign would have done if they simply looked at a basic campaign calendar and noticed when the state was selecting delegates. On Fox & Friends Monday, one of the things Donald Trump said about the issue was “We keep fighting, fighting, fighting, and then you have a Colorado where they, frankly, where they just get all of these delegates, and it’s not a system. There was no voting. I didn’t go out there to make a speech or anything.”

I mean, let’s just look more closely at Trump’s complaints in that statement:
“They just get all of these delegates” – Yes, his opponent’s campaign looked into how the GOP in each state was allocating its delegates and actually made an effort to gain support. And that’s why “they” get all the delegates.
“It’s not a system. There was no voting.” – That’s an oversimplification of a complicated and imperfect process. The Republican Party in Colorado does have a system. It’s an unorthodox system. If you ask me, it’s a terrible system. But it’s a system nonetheless, and one that was announced months in advance, so the national party, the campaigns, and the candidates had plenty of time to look into Colorado’s process. And the Cruz campaign clearly took advantage of that time. The Presidential nominating process is controlled by the parties – there is nothing in the Constitution about nominating Presidential candidates because there was no expectation by the Founders that we would be controlled by political parties. Most candidates understand the complexities of American elections; that’s why they hire professionals to organize their efforts and begin laying the groundwork months or years ahead of time. It’s not a matter of fair or unfair; it’s a matter of competence or ignorance.
“I didn’t go out there to make a speech or anything.” – This is the sentence that really jumps out at me. So, Trump is complaining that he didn’t win any of the Colorado delegates and it was totally unfair because he didn’t understand the system and didn’t make an effort to win anyone’s support? That might be the worst excuse I’ve ever heard for anything. That’s like complaining you didn’t win a football game because you didn’t know how to play and never even tried. I mean, seriously. Why is this person still a major contender for the Presidential nomination of the political party of Abraham Lincoln, Theodore Roosevelt, Dwight Eisenhower, and Ronald Reagan?! If Eisenhower had lost World War II because he didn’t know who the bad guys were and didn’t order the D-Day invasion, do you think he would have complained that the war was unfair to him personally? Whenever I think I can’t be any more embarrassed for our country and astonished by this election cycle, something like that happens.

The Drunkalypse Season 4, Episode 6: The Laws of Gods and Men

OVERALL RATING:

7/10 Tyrions in a barrel.

Good episode, Solid. SOLID! The episode stuck around KL with a few outings but with the trial that’s not surprising. I’m sure people are going to be talking about Peter Dinklage’s performance this week. People bitch about the term filler and I definitely do not think it applies here. Every scene but one, really, seemed well-placed and relevant.

STUFF THAT HAPPENED, SULLIED TANGENTS, and more!

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4

Lundi Linkara : The Entity (Missingno)

Last week on Linkara Monday: Villains Edition, we established that Lord Vyce had a cool helmet, a  spaceship the size of his ego, a childhood pet rabbit (that I may or may not have invented) and that  he was essentially driven by both extreme self-righteousness and all-consuming fear.

But fear of what, exactly?

‘Well my children, let’s just say that if nightmares could walk, talk and stalk their prey like this thing did, you would never close your eyes again!’ (Moarte, please go back to your longbox, will ya? There’s a good ghoul) So where was I… Right, the all-mighty and ever terrifying Entity! That’s at least what it was known as for a long while before its true nature was revealed at the end of the most ambitious and downright creepiest storyline’s saga of Atop the 4th Wall.

Worshiped by some, feared by others, The Entity, an extremely powerful Outer God, roamed from universe to universe, consuming everything and everyone in its path, hunted only by Lord Vyce who vowed his life to destroy it, for his universe was the first to fall under the Beast. Actually, Vyce entered Linkara’s universe because he was following the Entity there, and he justified his attempt at conquering said universe as a mean to defeat it, whatever sense that made. Not impressed by Vyce’s claims however, Linkara fought and eventually exiled him, not realizing that by doing so he left the Entity free reins to use this universe as playground and open buffet.

For months, small hints of its presence were scattered around, sometimes as an ominous and eerie whine, other times as glitchy hidden messages in the episodes credits, even going as far as affecting other reviewers shows. Still, unlike previous AT4W villains, the Entity seemed to have no shape of its own, existing only as an omnipotent force that could not be touched, contained, or even stopped. Even when Linkara found an old and cryptic book that seemed to refer to the Entity and perhaps hold the key to its nature (and possible defeat) within its lines, the Beast silently started to pick off his friends and allies one by one, seemingly fulfilling what was foretold in the book’s most iconic line:

A PIECE OF THE WORLD IS MISSING

Eventually, Linkara’s team was completely absorbed by the Entity which could no longer maintain its cover, for only one other person remained on Earth besides Linkara… And who might that person be but the most unlikely body to be taken over by an Outer God ever? Of course, it was 90’s Kid. Even the cardboard robot looked more suspicious than the Rob Liefeld fanboy! Anyway, when Linkara forced his enemy to reveal itself, he finally put the pieces of the puzzle together and realized that the Entity was none other than Missingno, the glitch Pokémon, risen in his home universe from simple corrupted data to full-fledged invincible godly force set to infect and absorb everything in existence.

Well that’s awesome, but how does one defeat such an enemy? Master Ball, perhaps? (I bet you wish you didn’t waste it on Arceus now, don’tcha ;) As competent Linkara is as a Pokémon trainer, once separated from all his weapons, he knew that the only things he had left to fight the Entity was his wits and his hat. And he just ran out of hats. 

In a clever attempt at gaining time, Linkara admitted defeated but asked to be granted one last answer. After absorbing him, the Earth and was was left of the universe, what would he do next? Destroying everything is really cool and all but once it’s done, what does one do after? There’s not even a recliner left to sit quietly on and watch Netflix! And seriously, who would want to live once all wifi if gone? Alright, maybe my arguments are a bit thin for an Outer God, but Linkara was able to make a pretty eloquent case about the meaning of existence itself and how being the only thing in existence would, well, it would suck. Big time. Hey, I said Linkara was eloquent, I never said I was. So after his existential speech succeeded at confusing and making the Entity re-think his plans, he popped the question:

‘What happens to an Outer God, when it dies?’

A smirking Missingno replied ‘I will find out’ and disappeared in a blinding light, returning all the people and things it took to their rightful places, even the disgruntled 90′s Kid who crooned his favorite Care Bears theme as he regained consciousness. 

And so once again, the comic book guy saved the universe, and not only was it from the most powerful and terrifying creature he’s ever had to face, but it was done by the most unlikely means possible, by convincing it to kill itself. Quite a feat. Maybe I should try that with the earwigs I get in the summer, these things are tough little crawlers…


The Linkara Collection II : The Squeakquel was given to Linkara at Conbravo 2015.

Find out how to get rid of evil robots, Outer Gods and rogue Pokémons here : atopthefourthwall.com

Caught Inside

Summary:  Point Break AU. FBI Agent Emma Swan goes undercover to determine if a gang of surfers is responsible for a recent string of priceless art heists. What she doesn’t expect is to get in too deep with one of the suspects. Can she keep her head above the water as the stakes get higher? Or will the waves of danger leave her caught inside?

A/N: My first Multi-chapter fic! I’ve been planning on writing this for a long time, even before I knew they were coming out with a remake of the movie. So, if you aren’t already familiar, you may be soon (it comes out on Christmas day). This fic should include plenty of adventure, danger, suspicion, and action (if you know what I mean). Not to mention Killian as a surfer. Hope you enjoy!

Special thanks to the-captains-ayebrows and lenfaz for helping me flesh it out!

Rating: T for now, but will eventually be M
FF.net link here


Chapter One

A cool breeze drifts off the water, tickling Emma’s nose as she brushes a wayward strand of hair from her face. It’s early morning on the Pacific Ocean, and if she weren’t here on business, she might find the whole experience utterly relaxing.

“There they are.” David hands her the binoculars. Without pointing, he nods his head subtly in the direction of a group of surfers, currently floating above the water on their boards, waiting for the next break. She and her partner are standing high above them on at the lookout at the point, and from this distance their wetsuits make them look like sleek black seals. She isn’t sure how she’ll be able to distinguish them from every other group of identically-clad surfers out this morning.

Emma lifts the binoculars to her eyes, squinting against the harsh light reflecting off the water. As her pupils adjust, she moves her head, scanning the rolling blue-green waves capped with foam.

“Two o’clock,” David murmurs, and she swings her head in the right direction. There. Four men grouped together, obviously part of a crew, since they didn’t seem to mind the close competition for waves.

One white blonde - Whale - check. Two brunettes - Jefferson and Locksley - check. And the mark she’d be approaching, his hair nearly black, saturated with water. Jones.

Lowering the binoculars, she lets out a sigh. “‘K. It’s time to find out if these guys are really a ruthless band of thieves or not. And if Jones really has a thing for leggy blondes, like it says on his profile.”

She gives David a mischievous smirk, raising her eyebrows, and he smiles tersely in response.

“Emma,” he sighs. “Take this seriously, OK? I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Oh boy, here comes the overprotective big brother speech.

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