i should go to bed now probably

Good morning, my fellows and friends on the Tumble. ☀😊

Tonight at work I saw an inspirational poster which read: “When life closes a door… Push it open again, that’s how doors work.” 😂

Now, while I’m not sure it is always the best option to just headbutt your way through situations, it is true that when difficulties present themselves, that isn’t necessarily a sign you should give up.

There are times you need to push again. Get creative, be persistant. Live.

In any case, the poster made me laugh. XD

😌🌙 And to you who are just tumbling off to bed, you probably saw some doors close today. Some of those will have been especially rough, things you can’t go back and do again. Every night and every day, we’re presented with new openings and opportunities. Every single time.

One of those doors is labeled “rest” and sometimes it’s a difficult lock to undo. Get creative, be persistent. Rest.

👍❤👌

As they walked along the bridge Adrien glanced between Marinette and the locks shining gold in the afternoon sunlight. “My father would say this bridge is an eyesore…” Marinette looked at him in surprise. “well not the bridge so much as all the locks. ‘An immature, sentimental act committed by delinquents that ruins the bridge’s otherwise elegant appearance’ - or something like that.”
“Oh…” Marinette gazed at all the locks with a slight frown.
“I like the locks though,” Adrien continued nervously, “there’s a lot of negative… ideas associated with locks: having secrets, being locked out, being trapped…” he looked down at the wood planks as they passed under his feet, and then at Marinette walking thoughtfully beside him. “but someone decided to use them to symbolize something good: safety, commitment…love… it’s just… it's…” Adrien’s voice trailed off as he watched Marinette tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and wrap her arms around herself.
“Romantic?” She finished, looking up at him with a smile.
Adrien felt his face warm and he looked away, “Yeah.”  

(Artist note: I imagine Adrien has had a lot of bad dreams involving locks and has looked up the symbolism behind it. Marinette probably has had some such dreams herself, but not nearly as bad or as often.)

What Would You Want?

Request: “hi i was wondering if you could do a fluffy sirius x reader where they’re just cuddling and talking about their future together (like having kids, getting married) idk ah i really love your writing btw !!”

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 1034

Warnings: None

Originally posted by admireforever


It was very late on a Monday night. Most were sound asleep, but the toll that had taken its place on all the exhausted students due to the most dreaded day of the week didn’t seem to affect you and Sirius. Instead, you were lying on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, cuddling by the fire with a pleasant type of lethargy. You both kept saying how it was time to go up to your actual beds, since you both had the same early potions class tomorrow morning, but the urgency had seeped from your bones, being replaced by a thick laziness that weighed you down blissfully. The more you fought against it, the heavier it got. Eventually, you had simply accepted that you would probably talk into the early hours of the morning, only falling into sleep when you had no more words to say. Sirius’ arms were the most peaceful place in the world, it was no wonder why you had no desire to leave your spot.

“What would you have our wedding be like?” He asked after a long comfortable silence, his nose touching yours as he spoke.

“Our wedding?” You yawned. “Who said I’d marry you?”

Sirius let out a soft chuckle, his eyelids heavy.

“I know you’ll say yes when the day comes. You can never resist me.”

“And if I say no?”

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Dirty Laundry - Lip Gallagher Imagine

Originally posted by lipgallaghersaysfuckyou

Word Count: 1854

Warnings: Sexual content, swearing… Pretty much what you’d expect from Lip



It was almost time for your quantum physics test. Whistling to yourself, you walked down the hallway of your dorm floor in a t-shirt that was a bit too small and your underwear.  They were the only clean clothes of yours that remained, as you had put the rest of your clothes in the dryer about an hour before.  

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you yelled as you entered the laundry room, noticing that your clothes had been taken out of the dryer by another student and placed on the floor in a soaking wet pile.

“Jesus, not that I mind, but I think there might be some rules against walking around here like that,” a voice from behind you commented.

Spinning around on your heel, you set your dark glare on the blue-eyed boy in front of you who was holding a hamper full of dirty laundry. You recognized him to be Lip Gallagher. You’d bumped into him a few times in the hallway and had seen him at some of the parties you attended, but you had never really interacted with him.  

“Yeah, I’d fucking love to be fully dressed right now but some fucking piece of shit took my clothes out of the drier while they were still soaking wet… and fuck, I have a physics test in fifteen minutes and I can’t miss it or… fuck,” you rambled, your voice starting to break at the end. As your eyes started to tear up, you turned back around so your back was facing Lip.  You hadn’t expected to get so upset, but you had spent so much time studying and the stress was beginning to send you over the edge.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Lip said quietly as he stepped closer to you, putting a comforting hand on your back.  “Some dick pulled the same shit on me before and I ended up missing the test.  But it looks like you’ve still got a little bit of time.  I can’t promise I have anything that’s going to fit you nicely, but I’ve got some sweats and a hoodie you could borrow for the time being back in my room.  Let’s say I take care of your laundry for you too.  It’s going to be okay.”

Turning back around to face the boy behind you, you raised an eyebrow.  “Really? I mean, you don’t have to, but it would literally mean the world to me,” you mumbled, sniffling softly.  You were taken aback.  The only comments you had ever heard regarding Lip suggested that he was a sarcastic asshole, and here he was putting his life on hold to help you out.

“Yeah, really,” he replied, giving you a half smile before grabbing onto your hand.  “But let’s go… Wouldn’t want you to run out of time.”  Immediately, he began to run down the hall with you behind him, only stopping once he reached what appeared to be his room.  Once you two were inside, he rushed over to his dresser and pulled out a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and a hoodie with ‘Chicago Polytechnic’ printed on the front of it and threw the clothes in your direction.

“Thank you so, so much.  I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you,” you said sincerely, ripping off the shirt you had on and tugging on the clothes he had given to you.  “I’ll come by tonight when I’m done classes to give you back your clothes.  You’re a saint.”  You began to pull the door open.

“Not quite, but not a problem.” Lip chuckled, taking a seat on his bed and waving in your direction.

“Once again, thank you!” you yelled one last time, holding onto the baggy sweatpants so they wouldn’t fall as you sprinted down the hallway and out the door toward your lecture hall.

Much to your surprise, the day had gone a lot better than you had expected it to.  You had made it to the lecture hall with a minute to spare and felt as though you aced the test.  You had received many looks due to your unruly appearance, but it didn’t bother you. You were able to make it to the test fully clothed and on time, and that was all that mattered.

Clearing your throat, you reached up your hand and knocked on Lip’s door.  You had promised to return his clothes to him and you couldn’t wait to thank him yet again.

A few moments later, the door opened and Lip appeared in the doorframe with a slight smirk on his lips, looking you up and down.  “Have you ever considered buying clothes your size?” When you responded with an eye roll, he chuckled and stepped to the side.  “Kidding.  Come on in. How’d the test go, by the way? Did you make it in time?”

Stepping inside, you flashed him a smile and nodded your head. “Yeah, I did.  Felt pretty good about it too,” you commented, leaning against the now-closed door.  Biting your lip, you looked down and started to play with your fingers.  “By the way, sorry if I freaked you out earlier by being so emotional.  It’s just that I’m on a scholarship to be here and if I couldn’t be there to take that test and pass it, I could’ve lost it and I wouldn’t be able to go here anymore.”

“You’re kind of freaking me out right now.” Lip’s mouth twisted into a grin as he sat on the edge of his bed.  “You literally sound like my spitting image.  Exact same thing happened to me about a month ago.  That’s why I was so eager to help… And I also might’ve had a word with the guy who took your clothes out of the dryer once he came back to get his stuff.”  He chuckled quietly and motioned to the chair at his desk for you to sit down.  “Oh, by the way, your clean laundry’s over there in the corner.”

Smiling to yourself, you stepped around him to take a seat at his desk.  “I’m just glad somebody finally understands.  I feel like I’m surrounded by a bunch of rich kids who have had everything handed to them their whole lives.  Where I’m from, nothing ever comes easy.”  A sigh escaped your lips as your leaned back in the chair.

“Jesus, where have you been these past few months?” Lip exclaimed with a chuckle, laying back on his bed.  “Also, did you say earlier that you were going to take a physics test?

Nodding your head, your eyes began to scan the contents on his disheveled desk.  “Yeah, I’m a physics major.  Think I wanna be an engineer or something.  You know, something where I’ll finally be able to make some money.”

“We’re in the same boat there,” he commented, his eyes scanning you as you began flipping through one of the textbooks on his desk. “You know, I feel like I’ve seen you around at parties.  How are you pulling off the whole physics major and partying thing at the same time?”

A smirk formed on your lips as you slammed the textbook closed and stood up, now in front of the side of his bed.  “Hate to break it to you, but you’re not the only one who can be a physics major and still have a good time, Lip,” you teased, glancing down at your phone.  “I should probably get going though.  Got another test to study for.” Looking over at your laundry folded in the corner, you undid the tie on the sweatpants you were wearing.  “Shit, I still have to give you back your clothes.”

The corners of Lip’s mouth twitched upward as he raised an eyebrow at you.  “What do you think this is?  You’re just gonna strip in front of me?”

You rolled your eyes, but you could feel the tension rising between the two of you.  “Please, you act like you mind.”  Leaning down, you pulled the sweatpants down and took a step forward out of them.

“You know, I really don’t,” Lip noted, reaching forward and grabbing the fabric of the front of the hoodie you were wearing and pulling you closer to him.  “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’d be more efficient if I helped you out.”  

Suddenly, you forgot all about the exam you had to study for.  Biting your lip, you slowly sat down on his lap on the edge of the bed and wrapped your arms around his neck.  “Oh yeah? And how would you do that?”

Without another word, he slammed his lips into yours, leaning back onto his bed and taking you with him.  Quickly, he flipped you over so he was on top, leaning down and kissing up your stomach as he slowly dragged the hoodie up your body and over your head. “I was thinking something like this,” he murmured into your skin, attaching his lips to your neck.

A gasp escaped your lips as he began to suck on the skin, reaching down to pull down his pants and boxers, and then watching as he pulled off his shirt.  

“Someone’s a little urgent, hmm?” he teased, slowly peppering kisses down your collarbone until he reached the exposed skin of your breasts.  His lips wrapped around one of your nipples, his hand moving to work on the other breast. Despite his teasing, moments later, he pushed inside of you.

“F-Fuck, Lip,” you moaned out, grinding your hips up into his. Your head flew back against the pillow as your hands found his back, your nails dragging down the skin.

Your response only caused him to start moving in and out of you faster, one of his hands reaching up to grip onto the headboard so he could deepen his movements.

His lips found yours again as he continued, the kiss sloppy but with a sense of passion and urgency.  At this pace, it didn’t take long for either of you to finish.  A few moments later, you moaned out and dug your nails deep into the backs of his shoulders, climaxing and allowing your head to fall back against the pillow.  “Holy shit.”

Lip came moments later, pulling out before rolling off of you and collapsing next to you.  His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to control his heavy breathing.  “Wow,” he muttered, rolling over onto his side to face you.

When you were finally able to steady your breathing, you rolled over to face him and raised an eyebrow at him.  “I had planned on saying thank you again, but I’m not sure if right now is the best time.” You giggled softly, biting your lip.

Lip smirked at your comment, his hand reaching out and resting on your cheek.  He started to chuckle as his thumb massaged your jaw, his dazed eyes staring into yours.

“I clean your dirty laundry and all I get out of it is a scratched up back and dirty sheets?  You know, I’m not sure if you’ve fully repaid me.  I’m not done with you just yet.”


———-


Thought I’d switch things up and go for Lip this time.  Once again, let me know what you think! xx

Art Therapy

Request: I was wondering if you would write something were the reader and Bucky fell in love, but Natasha was really horrible and told the reader to stay away from Bucky, Bucky doesn’t understand why

@melconnor2007

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader [Enhanced]

Word Count: 6,658

Bucky lay in bed staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep most nights. The rare times when he could, his mind was plagued with nightmares. The doctors in Wakanda had assured him that it was perfectly normal. His psychiatrist at the Avengers compound told him that the therapy would help with it. He even had a prescription for sleeping pills after he mentioned his insomnia. But Bucky didn’t like taking them, the feeling of something making his mind hazy was too close to how he used to be while under Hydra’s control.

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Take a Chance

The gifset of Dean giving himself that little pep talk from 7x04 inspired me to write this. Dean x Reader, Dean’s POV. Hope you like :)

For fuck’s sake, Dean, you’ve done this a thousand times. You can charm a woman without even breaking a sweat. Why are you so damn nervous?

Because, dumbass, it’s Y/N. This time it’s not some random bar chick that I’ll probably never lay eyes on again. And I don’t want to mess things up. I don’t want to do something that’ll make everything all awkward.

I just want… I just want to be with her. Whatever that means. And I don’t even know how to say that without making things all fucking weird.

Just tell her the truth. Well, the surface truth. Say you’re bored. Take a chance.

She doesn’t need to know you hate being in a separate room from her, that you miss being around her. That you feel not all there when she’s not around, like a piece is missing. That you’re dying to touch her. Like really touch her.

Okay. Here’s her door. Just heard a noise, so you know she’s awake. So knock already.

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Delta (Bucky Barnes x Reader) a/b/o Pt. 3

A/N: So this chapter isn’t as smutty as it should’ve been because I wanted it to be a slow burn haha. (Pls dont hate me guys!) but next chapter is going to be pretty much pure s m u t. Imma need lots of warnings lol. I hope you guys like it! ENJOY! - Delilah  ❤️

Warnings: Sexual intercourse (briefly), masturbation, slight prostitution lol, swearing. NSFW. 

Series Masterlist

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anonymous asked:

“great. perfect. nice. fuck this.” spideypool!!

Peter was more exhausted than he had been in weeks. He had been so good about sleep lately–he had even made a schedule to keep himself from having another falling-asleep-during-an-acid-lab incident–but this week had decided to be a serious dick to him.

So he found it perfectly understandable to skip his last class of the day (which was advanced mechanical engineering, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t catch up later) in favor of going home and napping. Because he had almost used his phone as a coffee stirrer an hour ago, and that seemed to make it clear the coffee wouldn’t really cover only having six hours of sleep in the past two nights combined. 

Peter yawned for about the millionth time that day and scrubbed a hand over his face as he walked up to his apartment door. He started to lazily pat at his pockets for his keys with his other hand–and came up empty.

He frowned and patted himself down again. No jingle. No pointy key-ends. Frowning harder, he dropped his backpack and started to paw through it, even though he rarely kept his keys anywhere but his pockets (they’d been stolen from his backpack once and he still wasn’t over it). Unsurprisingly and unfortunately, he came up with nothing.

Peter briefly felt the urge to cry. All he wanted was a nap. He thought back through his day. He didn’t take them out when he was in the coffee shop–he didn’t even sit down. From what he could recall, he didn’t take them out in class either (because why would he?). Which left him with one, horribly stupid option–they were still sitting on his kitchen counter.

Inside his apartment. Because he was an idiot. 

Great. Perfect. Nice. Fuck this.” he snapped at the door.

Despite being a functional adult who could deal with this problem in a rational way, Peter was very tired. So he did a rather petty thing and kicked his door, hard. 

Crying was seeming like an increasingly appealing option. Peter’s landlord already didn’t like him. He didn’t need to give him another reason to think he was a bad tenant (which, to be fair, he was, because with his superhero agenda–and his superhero friends–his apartment had been through a lot) by saying he’d lost his keys…again.

Peter sighed and sat down, leaning against his door and throwing his backpack next to him. He honestly didn’t think he had the energy to suit up and climb up to his window. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to find his window.

But he still needed to get in his apartment. Maybe he could magically learn how to pick locks without any effort. Or he could see if any of his neighbors would pick his lock for him–

Wait. I know someone who can pick locks.

Peter was both suddenly grateful and suddenly dreading what he knew he had to do. He sighed very hard and pulled out his phone and for the first time EVER dialed a number he never thought he would need to.

After two rings, he got an answer.

“Deadpool speaking.” Wade’s voice growled at him.

“Wade? It’s–Spider-man.” Peter awkwardly finished, almost just saying ‘Peter’.

The change in Wade’s tone was instant. “Yo, Spidey!” he screeched.

Peter winced and immediately regretted his decision. “Hi, Wade. I need a favor.”

“…Is it a murder-y favor? Because I’ve been trying not to do that so much and–”

“It’s not a job, Wade. I’m locked out of my apartment and I need you to pick my lock.”

There was a pause, and Peter swears he heard a snicker. “Did you web your keys to the wall or something?” Wade joked, then started to poorly cover up a laugh.

“I’m hanging up.” Peter snapped, and started to.

“Wait, wait!” Wade shouted, and Peter didn’t hang up. “I’ll help you, Spidey. Can you text me the address?”

“Yeah. Please show up before I have to sleep in my hallway.” Peter requested, then hung up. He typed out his address and sent it to Wade, who responded with a thumbs-up emoji, a winking-tongue-face emoji that Peter never understood, and informed him he’d be there in fifteen minutes.

Peter sighed and pulled out his Spider-man mask from his backpack. He really didn’t want to put it on, but Wade didn’t know his identity and Peter didn’t really think trusting him with it was a good idea.

Then again, he had just given him his address. That was almost worse, in a way. Wade was unarguably the most unstable man he knew, and he was coming over to pick Peter’s lock for him. 

Peter briefly wondered if this was how he was destined to die. Not by some super-villain, but by letting a crazy person know his address. 

I’m literally letting an axe-murderer into my house. Oh my god, this is how I die.

Peter was still busy imaging scenarios of Wade brutally murdering him when Wade showed up and raised an eyebrow at Peter’s sad scene. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie, which was surprising, though he still had both his mask and gloves on.

“Spidey?” he asked, then it clicked why Wade was looking at him funny.

Peter had forgotten to ever put his mask on.

“Uh, yeah. Hi, Wade.”

Wade suddenly slapped a hand over his eyes. “You forgot your mask.”

Peter sighed. “I guess I did. But I also gave you my address, so I figured if you were gonna murder me I couldn’t stop you.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’m tired. Please break into my apartment so I can sleep.” Peter said, gesturing at the door handle by his head.

Wade chuckled and walked over. He knelt down next to Peter and started to work on the lock with a bunch of tools that looked like torture devices. “So, not that I’m complaining, but why did you call me for this? You’ve never even used my number before.”

“Long story short, my landlord hates me already and everyone else would never let me live down leaving my keys in my apartment and not realizing it until now.”

That’s fair.” Wade shrugged, then the door made a click and Wade turned the handle, and to Peter’s sleepy amazement, it opened. “Ta-da. All better.”

Peter gaped at how fast Wade had done that. After a second of chuckling at him, Wade offered him a hand. Peter took it and was heaved to his feet. He grabbed his backpack and entered, expecting Wade to follow.

But he didn’t. Wade stayed in the doorway, rocking back and forth on his feet.

Peter turned back and looked at him. He looked like a lost puppy. Well, a lost puppy who was trying to see as much as he possibly could from a doorway. Peter sighed. “Just come in.”

Wade giggled and ran in, immediately going everywhere. “I’m in Spider-man’s apartment!”

Peter slowly followed him, eventually ended up in his bedroom, where Wade was fiddling with things on his desk. “Don’t break anything.” he ordered, then promptly collapsed onto his bed face-down.

After a moment, he felt a weight on the other side of the bed. “Aw, is Spidey sleepy?” Wade cooed.

“Fuck off.” Peter snapped, and Wade laughed.

“That’s fair. I like your apartment, by the way. Tasteful.”

Peter snorted. “Does it accurately show off my college student budget?”

“Impeccably.” Wade said, flopping down on the bed next to him. “Dude, how old is this mattress?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it witnessed JFK’s murder, to be honest.”

Wade laughed, then they fell into silence. Peter was honestly half-asleep before Wade broke the silence again, and even then he didn’t really wake up. “Should I go?”

“Hmm?” Peter asked, turning to look at him.

“Should I leave? You seem about two seconds away from hibernation.”

Peter shrugged. “Probably. I’m gonna sleep for about fifty hours now.”

Wade smiled at him and sat up. “That’s fair. See you on your next patrol?”

“Considering you know where I live, I don’t think I can stop you from showing up to all of them.”

“Probably not. Sleep well, Spidey.”

Peter just hummed an answer and snuggled deeper into his pillow, listening to Wade’s footsteps get fainter–then get louder again.

Wade poked his head back into Peter’s room. “For the record, I like your face.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Go home, Wade.”

“It’s a nice face. Excellent face. That hair is killer. Do you condition?”

Wade.”

Right, right. I’m going. Call me if you need a number for an actual locksmith, baby boy.” Wade chuckled, then left for real.

Peter threw his cover onto himself, rolled over into the spot Wade had made surprisingly warm in his short time there, and slept better than he had in what felt like years. 

Writing is Hard, Pt. 2: Description

Summary: Dean wants to write a second story.

Read Part 1

Warning: Smut, dirty talk, use of a vibrator, all kinds of fan fiction clichés

Word Count: 4000ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! XOXO


Your laptop is screaming at you from its spot on the motel table.

You ignore it.

It’s not like you’ve been waiting all day to check it. It’s not like you were impatiently stomping around as you folded clothes with Sam and Dean in the laundromat, as they took their sweet time at the grocery, as Dean dragged you to some fucking hardware store because he needed a specific type of wrench (the six identical wrenches he already owns just aren’t enough).

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Just a dream

ARCHIE X READER IS HERE YAY

Originally posted by songsoftheheartless

Authors Note: I am doing a sentence prompt, “It was just a dream” because Archie feels mkay? So on with the story! :)

Warnings: I don’t think there are any, just nightmares


Archie, Betty, Jughead, and Y/N had been best friends since childhood. The summer before Jason was killed, Archie and Jughead grew apart, and from that, Y/N, along with Betty, grew apart from Archie. Y/N and Betty spent most of their time together their freshman year of high school, and the summer Jason was killed, they grew closer than ever. The week before school, when Veronica Lodge came to town, something tragic happened for the second time that summer in peaceful old Riverdale. Y/N went missing, and a few days later, they found her parents’ bodies in her old house. 


“911, what is your emergency?” 

“Hello, I’d like to report a missing person, she’s been found.”

“What is your name sir? Can you ID her?”

“My name is Archie Andrews, and the girl’s name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

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Are You Two Dating Now?

“Love? Can you grab the plates?” Joe calls out, glancing up from the food he’s cooking.

“Yup.” Y/N closes her computer, jumping up from the couch, she crosses the floor, her hand sliding along Joe’s back as she passes him, reaching for the plates. “Smells delicious.”

“We went Italian tonight!” He replies proudly, smiling over his shoulder at her.

“Always wanted to go to Italy,” She sighs, pausing briefly, plates in hand.

“I’ll take you one day.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Sugg.”

“Me? Never.” He chuckles, wrapping an arm around her waist as he pulls her to his side, placing a kiss on her temple. “This is one I will keep. I’ll get you to Italy, Y/N. Just you wait.”

“Mhm, sure.” She rolls her eyes, placing the plates on the counter. “Can we eat now?”

“Just have to dish it out. Go take a seat.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Y/N asks, sitting at the work top on the other side, “I have an amazing best friend who cooks me delicious food and promises a trip to Italy.”

“I know, I’m pretty amazing.” Joe answers, winking at her as he places a plate of food in front of her. “Enjoy!”


The little moments between them were so normal now, that they never paid attention to them.

Of course, the boys had noticed, wondering why the two best friends acted like a couple without actually dating, but Y/N and Joe just shrugged and said it was who they were.

How they acted with each other was just who they were, it felt right for them. They never considered that they might have real feelings, they were just part of each other’s lives, and it was left at that.


“You ready for bed?” Joe asks a couple hours later, looking down at Y/N, who’s practically asleep on his lap.

“Hmm, think so.” She mumbles, yawning lightly. “Unless you wanna finish the movie?”

“The movie will be there tomorrow, love. Let’s go to bed.”

Nodding, she sits up, stretching. “Your couch is too comfy. And so are you.”

“My beds much comfier though,” He tells her, holding out a hand to help her up.

“I know. I always sleep better in it than my own,” Y/N laughs leaning against him as he leads her up to his room.

Once they’re in the bedroom, she walks over to Joe’s closet, grabbing a random shirt before stripping out of her own clothes, slipping it over her head a moment later.

“Here,” He’s waiting for her outside of the closet, a warm facecloth in his hand, and she takes it with a smile, beginning to wipe the make up off of her face.

“Oh shit,” Joe curses softly, pausing in his movements of pulling the blankets back on the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to send an email. It’s pretty important, too.”

“Then go do it, and then come to bed.” Y/N tells him, walking over to wrap her arms around him, looking up at him. “You won’t relax until you do it.”

“Sorry,” He smiles sheepishly down at her, one hand reaching up to brush the hair out of her face, “I know you were all ready for bed.”

“It’s fine.” Lifting up, she places a simple kiss on his lips, “Go write your email. I’ll be here when you’re back.”

“Thanks, love.”

Neither think of the kiss that just occurred, another moment that just felt right for them.

And when Joe slips into bed beside her a short while later, he pulls her close, kissing her forehead softly.

“Night.” She mutters sleepily.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”


And when he kisses her good morning, they don’t think anything of it either.

The shift in their relationship simply happened, and both accept it without saying anything.

“The boys are coming over for brunch,” Joe tells her, his fingers running along her arm.

“Then we should probably get up and get dressed.”

“Probably.”

Yet they remain cuddled up in bed for a while longer, only dragging themselves out when Jack texts them to say that he and Josh will be there in ten minutes.

Y/N tosses her hair into a messy bun before pulling on her pants from last night, leaving Joe’s shirt on. He smiles over at her when she appears downstairs, commenting how nice she looks in his stuff.

“I should steal it more often.” She teases before going to answer the door as the boys arrive.


By now, the boys were used to the two acting like a couple, even if they didn’t really understand the relationship between the two, so no one batted an eye when they saw her wearing his shirt, or when Joe’s eyes followed her around the room.

And even when she wrapped her arms around him from behind, leaning against him while she chatted casually with Jack, the boys just took it in stride.

It wasn’t until they were cleaning up from brunch that the boys grew confused.

“You don’t have to do that, love.” Joe says to Y/N, trying to pull her away from the sink where she’s doing dishes.

“It needs to be done,” She laughs, flicking bubbles at him.

“Make one of them do it, then.” He grins, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

“Do you not want clean dishes?” She asks, her arms moving up to around his neck.

“Hmm, fair point.” Joe answers, leaning down to kiss her gently. “At least let me help?”

“Fine, you can dry.” Y/N tells him, lifting up to kiss him once more before she turns back to the sink.


The group of boys all stare over at them in shock and confusion, exchanging glances.

“Okay, what the fuck?” Caspar finally says, drawing the attention of the couple who aren’t a couple.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asks, taking the plate from Y/N, drying it.

“When did…that happen?” Conor asks, gesturing between the two.

“When did what happen?” Y/N glances over at Joe, but he shrugs, placing the plate onto the counter.

“You two just kissed.” Jack tells them, “I mean, we get you two are touchy and she wears your clothes and stays the night…but, you kissed.”

“Well, at least we know Jack can see.” Joe laughed, “But what’s the problem?”

“Are you two dating now?” Josh asks them, glancing between the two.

Y/N and Joe share a look, a silent conversation happening between them before she smiles, placing a soapy hand on his cheek as she reaches up to kiss him again.

“Suppose we are.”

“Guess so.” Joe shrugs, smiling fondly down at her.

“You two are so bloody confusing…” Oli mumbles, shaking his head.

Yet to Y/N and Joe, it all makes perfect sense.

Because it’s just who they are.

EXO Reaction when their S/O says other member's name in their sleep

Thank you anon for requesting! Your message was so sweet! Xoxo, Admin A~

/I don’t own any of the gifs used, unless stated otherwise/


Chanyeol:

*Pouting the whole day* “And here I was thinking I was her happy virus… guess not so happy virus anymore…”

Kris:

“Aish… seriously? even in her dreams, this boy is following me? Fine baobei, I’ll call Suho tomorrow. Now go back and dream with me”

Sehun:

“She already repeated the members’ names three times… when is she going to say mine?”

Tao:

*Probably going to fight that member the next day*

Kai:

“Yes jagi I love you t-wait what? Kim Jong-what? I’m Jongin…. Jongin…”

Xiumin:

*His face the moment he hears you making strange sounds after Luhan’s name* “What. Is. Going. On?”

Baekhyun:

*Judging very hard*

Luhan:

*SO done with his life* “I’m going to kill Sehun… he’s so dead”

Chen:

“Ugh I’m so tired… I should go to bed… I’m starting to hear things” *In complete denial*

Kyungsoo:

*Someone’s not very happy*

Lay:

“I thought my name was Yixing… my whole life has been a lie? Maybe Lay is the guy I thought was named Chanyeol..”

Suho:

*Suho’s probably going to be in a mood the next morning* “I’m so changing the WiFi password again!”

[Masterlist] [Guideline]

12x10 Coda

Dean downs what’s left of his third beer and sets the bottle on the table, sighing heavily. Sam is already in his room – said something about wanting to read, or watch something, or whatever, and Dean pretends he doesn’t know that Sam was just trying to give him and Cas some privacy.

Dean looks at Cas, but if Cas is aware of someone’s eyes on him, he doesn’t show it. He’s nursing what has to be his seventh beer, and he’s nowhere near even slightly tipsy, which Dean supposes figures, angelic tolerance or whatever. Cas’ gaze is unfocused, and he hasn’t said anything in over half an hour, now. Dean wonders what’s going on in his mind, even though he figures it makes sense that Cas would be… lost in thought? Possibly upset? It’s been a long day.

Ten minutes come and go, and when Cas’ silence hits the forty-five-minute mark, Dean knows he can’t take it anymore.

“Alright,” he says, leaning forward and trying to catch Cas’ gaze. “Tell me.”

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Eurydice, Eat Your Heart Out (Adrino Percy Jackson AU)

In the dark of Cabin 10, staring up at the roof of his bunk, Adrien could hear the distant plucking of a harp as waves lapped lazily against the shoreline.

All things considered, it wasn’t surprising that he was having trouble sleeping; less than twenty-four hours earlier his father’s limo was nearly destroyed by a rampaging Cyclops that the middle-aged fashion mogul dispatched with a quick flick of a sword he drew from seemingly nowhere. From there, it was somewhat of a blur of packing, private jet rides, and clandestine car trips to the sunny shores of Long Island, New York, a silver pen containing the only means of protection he had in case other monsters attacked.

Monsters.

He could still scarcely believe it. If someone had told him that he was the product of an affair between his mother and the Greco-Roman goddess of love and beauty a few days ago, he would have been dialing Gorilla’s number as quickly as he could while backing away from them. Now, surrounded by dozens of half-siblings he never knew existed, Adrien didn’t quite know what to make of his current situation. He still thought he was going to wake up, home in Paris, and the whole thing would have been just a fever dream brought on by bad cheese; the attack, the journey, the music-

Sitting up in bed, Adrien strained his ears over the snoring of his bunkmate to hear the almost aimless melody that meandered its way across the waves. It was a song that sounded so familiar; like the chorus to something he had heard on the radio years ago. It couldnt’ve been coming from far, judging by the way it cut through the sound of twenty-five teenagers’ beauty sleep, so, clutching his pen and carrying his sneakers, Adrien tip-toed towards the door as quietly as possible, stepping out into the warm Long Island night.

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anonymous asked:

I know its a bit late in the day to ask but Nurseydex future fic fathers day?

Nursey wakes up to the sound of something being dropped in the kitchen and a muffled, “Oh crap!”

It’s a little terrifying at first, until he checks his clock and sees that it’s 7:30 AM and remembers that it’s Father’s Day. Dex is still asleep beside him, which means that it’s probably Beto and Georgie in the kitchen. He debates going out to check on them, but he figures they’re both ten now, they can figure out breakfast on their own, and they’re probably trying to surprise them, anyway.

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