i stole this from a magazine

2

Warnings: Partial nudity. It’s a long one, but a fluffy one.

You knew better, really, you did. But when Erik asked for you to see him you almost had to say yes.

It had been a year since Cuba and all the while you’ve been stuck in your head thinking about that day, and how you lost two of your dearest friends.

Charles had since been sinking more and more into a bitter state. He was still devastated by losing his ability to walk, moreover, the fact that he lost Raven to a racist cause. And then Erik, well, he had The Brotherhood, along with Raven.

He didn’t give you many clues as to where he was, but he knew you could find him without a hint. He was in the middle of Canada, of all places, he was hiding out in the wilderness of Canada. It somehow made sense, but you still found it kind of ridiculous. Also, Raven hated the cold. You chuckled at the thought of her shivering and complaining endlessly.

You told Charles that you needed to get away for a while, take a break and breath a little. Charles was suspicious but gave you his permission. Even if he wanted to know what you were doing, you were too headstrong to let Charles in. He’s always been concerned about you but this time around it felt especially wrong. Yet, he let you go knowing you would’ve gone regardless.

You flew into New York City and stayed there a day, though you didn’t take a chance to look around. You the flew into Toronto, then flew to Calgary, took a train to Edmonton then made your way into the forest by foot. Was it really worth all this hassle to him? Probably not.

You found yourself in front of a fallen tree, a very large fallen tree. So large, you couldn’t even climb over it. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a spark of red, then another spark on the other side. You were then pegged to the muddy ground you looked up and frowned. “Nice to see you too, Azaezel.”

“Azaezel, back off!” Looking over his shoulder you saw Angel. “C'mon we don’t have time for this.” “Azaezel shook his head and got up, not bothering to give you hand.

“Someone’s a little bitter,” you said.

“He’s just been cranky from the cold weather,” Angel shrugged. “Why are you here?”

Angel’s sudden change of tone caught you off gaurd. She’s always been a sort of back-talker but this was different. She had walls up and didn’t exactly scream friendly.

“Erik asked to seem,” you spoke plainly.

Angel and Azaezel looked at each other. You could see them debate with their eyes. “Okay, if Erik wants to see then he’ll see you,” Angel nodded.

“If you’re lying you’ll be sorry,” Azaezel growled.

Angel punched him in the arm, “shut up and take is back.”

With that, you grabbed onto Angel’s hand as she linked her own to Azaezel. A flash in your vision came before you only to find yourself in what seemed to be an underground shelter. You looked around to see a few tents full of cots and blankets, one of which you saw Banshee’s foot poking out, sleeping as always. A small fire pit with a lot hanging over it and a bunch of groceries in a cooler Azaezel probably stole from any market he could teleport to. There were stacks of bottled water and a small wooden table with chairs. The ground was scattered with magazines and playing cards, and the occasional empty shampoo bottle.

“Hmm,” you groaned.

“What?” Angel frowned at you.

“Filthy,” you said. Angel rolled her eyes,“dont I know it.”

“(Y/n)?” You heard a voice call. “(Y/n). Oh my god, you’re here!”

“Raven!” You ran to one another, hugging each other as if life depended on it.

“I’ve missed so much,” she sobbed into your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too, I’ve missed you so much,” you said back.

“Erik’ s been waiting for you, come on.” Raven grabbed your wrist and led you further down the tunnel, the walls turning from clay and dirt to metal before coming to a metallic door. “Erik, open up, she’s here.” The door then creaked open into to a dark room.

Before you could take a step Raven gave your wrist a tug, “hey, before you go in there… how’s Charles?” You looked into her eyes, seeing pure greif, “He misses you. A lot.” You walked into the metal room leaving Raven both relieved and sad.

As you walked in the space around you got colder than it was before, so much so you lightly began to shiver. The lighting was dim. Honestly, you were impressed there was any light here. You must’ve been a few dozen feet under ground, at least. You looked around but Erik was no where to be found. You sat in a small chair in the corner, twiddling your thumbs in wait.

You waited for perhaps ten minutes or so before the tall, slender silhouette of a man crept through another door. He looked tired, maybe a little hungry, but as handsome as ever.

You stood up from your seat as he stalked his way to you, a smile slowly appearing from his lips. He comes to a calm stop, inches away from you.

“Erik,” you whispered.

“Darling,” he said.

He took your cheeks into his palms and softly kissed you, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, lovely.

“Come,” he said, intertwining his fingers into yours. He took you to a twin bed on the other side of the room. You sat down on the edge of the mattress. Erik followed suit. You rested your head on his shoulder as Erik wrapped his arms around your body and began to rock back and forth. You sat quietly together, soaking in one another’s warmth for the first time in almost three hundred and sixty-five days. You breathed in his earthy scent and nuzzled yourself deeper into his embrace.

“What took you so long?”

“There was a giant log in my way. I’ve given up my powers for a while.”

“Mmm.” Erik wasn’t one to argue when it came to your mutant abilities. He never wanted to cause any trouble with you, only love and hold you endlessly.

“You look tired, lovely.”

“Exhausted,” he sighed.

“But you look as good as ever.”

He chuckled to your comment, “you’ve never looked more beautiful.”

You blushed, “thank you.”

Erik paused for a moment and gulped, “how’s Charles?”

“He’s getting by, still hurting a little.”

Erik gulped again, “I see.”

“We don’t have to discuss it,” you assured.

“I know…”

Another silence fell between you. You sighed and nuzzled yourself even deeper, closing whatever space was left.

Erik kissed your forehead, trailed down your jawline and to your neck. You inhaled to his lips touching you there after such a long time. He guided you to lay on the bed, your whole body resting as he hovered over. He slowly kissed your collarbone, unbuttoned part of your shirt and kissed your chest, then trailed back up to your lips.

“Oh, darling, how I’ve missed you,” he murmured.

“I’ve been yearning for you, lovely.”

You flipped yourself over, sitting on top of him. Your fingers teasingly played with the hemline of his shirt. He peeled his shirt off. You lighly kissed your way from his chest to his nose. You then passionately pressed you lips against his. He was about to pull you in closer before you broke it apart. Looking into his eyes you caressed your fingers upon his face and through his hair, kissing him once more. 

Erik tugged on your sleeve, “I want to feel your skin, darling.”

Slowly, you unbuttoned and stripped yourself of your shirt and bra, then laid your head to his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat rise against your body. You were no longer cold, rather wrapped in the warmth of your true love’s arms. You laid there for what seemed like hours, reveling in the moment.

Erik became fidgety.

You looked to him, “what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want this to end.”

“I never want it to be over,” you sighed.

“When will you go back?”

“I said I’d be gone for a while.”

“Then stay a while, darling.”

“Of course, lovely.”


Requests and Submissions are open + Masterlist.

Mama Shiranui HCS

I haven’t posted my chapter yet, but here are the headcanons about Mama Shiranui and Genma’s relationship with her :)) woooow this got long

also @ayyyez is the best for chatting mama shiranui hcs with me <3

Originally posted by thesunnychan

Genma is a total mama’s boy and i will fite you about it

  • Mama Shiranui is a formidable kunoichi who half-retired when Genma was born to raise him, she still worked while he was growing up, but not as much as she used to.
  • Genma’s dad died when he was just a baby, so he was raised by a single mom.
  • He got it from his mama - he looks just like her. The only thing he really got from his father was his pout. Any time Mama Shiranui sees him pouting, she just sighs and goes, “you look just like your father.”
  • Boy just has really good genes, his dad was ridiculously good looking, too.
  • Genma’s mom is the number one most important lady in his life. 
  • He makes it a point to have dinner with her at least once a week.
  • He calls her “ma” and kisses her on the cheek every time he sees her.
  • Genma knows better than to mess with his ma - she can be terrifying when she’s mad.
  • He does that whine (you know the one kids, especially boys, do), “maaaaaa” when she does something that embarrasses him.
  • Anytime he needs advice, or to vent, his mom is the first person he goes to. He values her opinion above anyone else’s.
  • He will, without hesitation, destroy anyone that fucks with his mother (if she doesn’t beat him to it).
  • He has a deep, deep fear of disappointing her.
  • If she doesn’t approve of someone he’s dating, there’s a good chance it’s not going to last.
  • Now Mama Shiranui can come off as a bit of a hardass, and a little overbearing and nosy, especially with her son, but she’s also extremely kind and caring.
  • She’s generally as laidback as he is, though, and is quick to joke and laugh. He definitely got his sense of humor from her.
  • Any time he cracks an inappropriate joke, she tugs on his ear and reminds him that she raised him better than that.
  • Mama Shiranui is the neighborhood mother hen. Kids that need a place to stay or a hot meal, or who need a scolding when they fuck up and there’s no one at home to give it to them, she’s that mom.
  • Raido is pretty much a second son to her, he’s with Genma so often. They both got the talk from her after she busted them looking at a dirty magazine Raido stole from his dad.
  • How he treats women is 100% because of his mother and how she raised him. Yes, he flirts, and yes, he can be very dirty (though only with people he’s known a long time), but he is, above all else, a gentleman who respects the hell out of women because that is what Mama Shiranui raised him to be from the instant he was old enough to understand.
Sweet & Sour

Inspired by a buzzfeed post and The Devil Wears Prada. I hope you like it!


After a particularly grueling day at work, you come home to find your lover, Henry Cavill, in the kitchen. “I thought you would want some of my homemade chicken fingers,” he says. “And don’t worry; I stole some Sweet and Sour sauce from McDonald’s.” - Sheridan Watson

GIF Credit: @calif0rnia-lovers


Originally posted by calif0rnia-lovers


Fashion week was right around the corner and (Y/N) was swamped with phone calls and emails. As editor, she was expected to make appearances and put out at least two fashion week editions of Catwalk Magazine. Today she’d been chained to her desk and she couldn’t wait for the first moment she had to get the hell out of the office. Her assistant stepped into her office with a sad and nervous smile, “what happened now?” she sighed, one problem after another today.

“Lagerfeld called to cancel his meeting with you…asked if you could reschedule,” her assistant replied.

(Y/N) let her head fall onto her desk and she told Sally to give the designer a new appointment. How did these designers expect to have their material printed in one of the biggest fashion magazines in London if they kept canceling on her? Her computer beeped, she sat up straight and opened her inbox. Finally, something was going right in her life. She’d received all the pictures from the shoot and now she had to approve them before they could be printed in the new edition.

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Summed up

I love your blog and Suga is my bias soo I thought it would be nice to request. Jealous Suga / angst. Scenario is all your imagine. Something whit cute, happy end! ^^

Hello can i req one yoongi smut scenario?

~Here you go sweetie. This one didn’t turn out. It has a weird flow, I wanted to try something new. I hope you like it!~

Word count: 5016

Genre: Angst/ smut

~~~~

It was a Friday night and you were, once again, helping your drunk boyfriend to bed. You couldn’t keep living like this. You sat him down on the bed and looked at the drunken mess in front of you. This wasn’t the Yoongi you first met. The one who promised you the world, the one who actually gave a damn about you was gone. Not even in the sober Yoongi did you see him, but how often did you really see him sober?.

You gave him a glass of water and kissed him on his head goodnight. Through all of this shit, you still love him, and somewhere in there was the man who loves you back.

Bullshit.

The smell of alcohol led you to sleep on the couch that night.


You were woken by someone pushing your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N.” It was Yoongi, nice to see that he hasn’t forgotten your name.

“Hmmmm?” You moaned sleepily  

“What are you stupid? It’s cold down here you could’ve gotten sick. Why are sleeping down here anyways?” His sliver hair shone as he opened up the curtains, letting the sunlight spread across his face. Showing off his handsome features .

“Because I hate the smell of alcohol.” You said while looking at him in amazement. He was shit faced last night, but he seems fine. “How are you?”  

“I’m fine.” He said getting some beer out the fridge.  "Why did the bed smell like alcohol?“  

You scoffed "You really don’t remember anything from last night do you?”

“No.” He said while taking a sip of his beer.

“You got drunk again, completely wasted. You came home with a magazine in that had you on cover talking about how this son of a bitch stole your look.”

“Oh.” He said putting down his drink to go get some bread.

“Oh? Yoongi, do you know what yesterday was?”

“Friday.” He said putting some bread into toaster.

You started to feel tears fighting to get out. “It was my birthday.”

“Oh.” He said still not turning around to look at you. “Why didn’t you come with me?”

You had to hold in a scream “Be-because you told me you didn’t want me there.”

“Oh.” He replied while putting his toast on a small plate “I remember saying that. Well there’s always next year.” He said while grabbing his beer once again.

How many times have you heard that? Too many.

“You’re cold Yoongi.” You said as the tears threatened to get out. He raised an eyebrow at you while biting into his now buttered toast. His stare reminded you of broken glass in a winter storm. “You don’t give a fuck about me and I’m not sure you ever did.” The tears now threatened your voice, making it shaky.

He grabbed the beer with his free hand “Maybe I don’t. You sound so sure of yourself.” He said in a matter of fact voice that showed no emotion, the voice that made you shiver. He started to walk back up the stairs, leaving you alone with your tears.

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Sticking with the Schuylers (34)

(Thank you for waiting so patiently for this-I had a long week that kept trying to knock me down, but luckily I pulled through thanks to optimism and ‘Times are Hard for Dreamers’ on a constant loop. Thank the lord for Amelie).

I love John Laurens, and I love his family, and I know this fic is long but I have like 16 pages of headcanon/development so do with that what you will, I love my fic baby.

(Tagging: @ellzabethschuyler also shoutout to @oosnavi for giving me lots of really good ideas on this one and also killing me with all of the Pippa + children pictures every day.)

This is a Laurens Christmas Eve. 

1  2  3  4   5   6   7   8   9   10   1112   I  13  14   15   16   17   18A  18B   18C  I   19   20   21   22   23   24   25  26   27  28   29   I  30  31  32  33


There is a clear wall of sound coming from the fifth floor apartment, one they can hear from the moment they reach the stairwell. Alexander chuckles as Eliza’s grip on his hand changes. It’s a slight movement, but he’s attentive-he turns his head to face her while slowing their pace.

“That’s us,” he gestures down the hall, to a row of identical doors. Eliza nods, eyes unchanging and feigning complete comfort. That being said she is good at this-excellent, even. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have kept going along. But her breathing has slowed, visibly deep in her chest. The hand he holds in his has begun to pick up a moisture bred by nerves. He’s more familiar with the disguised symptoms of anxiety. She is much better at this façade than he is.

“What’s wrong?”

“This is a really big deal.”

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Little Do You Know (Part 1)

Characters: Reader and Tony friendship, Reader x Bucky flashbacks, mentions Tony x Pepper,

Summary: Flashbacks to the reader/Bucky’s relationship (between the Winter Soldier and Civil War when he goes into cryo). Reader and Tony comfort each other after their respective breakups/partners leaving them.

Song inspiration: Little Do You Know by Alex and Sierra

Genres: fluff (this chapter), angst (future)

A/N: I already have 3/4′s of part 2 done. When I procrastinate…I write. :/

Masterlist here | Part 1 | Part 2|  Part 3

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My experience in Volterra; how meeting Ryosuke was.

As I already specified on twitter ( feel free to follow it if you like @yamadoong/@mooxnlight) , to respect the privacy of the staff who was working hard to keep everything secret and away from indiscrete eyes - even if a really rude magazine stole some pictures from the set and made an article about it spreading a pretty clear image of the costume and the filming set - I won’t mention anything regarding the scenes filmed or the movie itself, I will concentrate only on my experience of admirer of Ryosuke and how meeting him from so close felt like, since I think it was a great occasion and it could be fair to share it with other people who didn’t get the same chance. I want to make you live my dream too so let’s start! 

日本人ファンのために日本語バージョンを書くつもりです。全部英語で、すみません。

             ~~~~~~~ 

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Remus, already showered and changed to his pyjamas, asks, “Sirius, why do you keep a Sabrina under your bed?”

The pink-and-green magazine colours scream at his eyes, a teenage witch smiling up at him from under a wide-rimmed pointy hat. The title, how to kiss wizards well in 10 crucial steps bounces up and down in the left corner, and even amidst the other topics, he cannot fathom Remus hasn’t figured it out yet. He’s not even sure if good old Auntie Hilda’s advice helped in any way because he hasn’t even had a chance to try it.

“I stole it off Bellatrix,” Sirius says, the first thing off his tongue. “Just to piss her off, you know.”

Remus is quiet too long, and Sirius can feel himself start to redden—that, is when James looks up too from his quidditch mag and Peter follows suit.

Remus looks sceptic, and Sirius knows that it is because it dates back a year and a half. He hasn’t kept it that long, of course—just stumbled across it a few months ago, right before the Halloween ball, when it was left in the common room.

That one bouncy topic had caught his attention, though.

“Do you really care this much about snogging someone?” Remus asks.

Sirius doesn’t even have time to feel shit about it before James loudly groans, “For fuck’s sake, Sirius, again?”

“I can’t help it,” he mutters as he sits down on his bed. “It’s an issue, alright, just that you lads don’t know what it’s like doesn’t mean you can piss on me, alright?”

“But you care so much,” Remus says, “and you don’t have to.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Okay, yes, we’ve had this chat before, and even bloody Peter’s snogged someone before me—sorry Pete—and now I’m eighteen and I still haven’t.”

James just stares at him, and he doesn’t look like he cares at all but Sirius finds it hard to ignore when he cares. Remus’ look’s a little different, and Sirius is not sure if it’s a matter of different opinions, or different experiences.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Sirius finally gives in. He’s taken the but why approach before, he’s taken the I want to approach and the more-than-slightly bitter but you have so you have no say in this. “Tell me, mister I snogged the prettiest girl of Hogwarts age fifteen.”

Remus colours a little, but he isn’t too perturbed to answer. “First off, I don’t put as much value into a kiss and I never have, because my family aren’t dickheads who think I should marry before I’m twenty—“ and, ignoring James’ choking noise, “and secondly, as I have kissed people I can honestly tell you, Sirius, it wasn’t that big of a deal at all.”

James now laughs out loud. “Remus, you kissing people kind of is a big deal, you had Laura swooning over you like mad for three months after?”

Sirius knew about that, and he and James had laughed about it before, but Remus seems more shocked by that than by anything else any of them have said in—quite a while, honestly.

Finally he just mutters, “What the fuck?”

“Werewolf pheromones,” Peter says loudly, trying to break the awkward atmosphere in the room. “That’s my bet, anyway, since none of us can tip that.”

Sirius can’t help it—the atmosphere in the room, the awkwardness of the situation, laughter bubbles up as he repeats, “Tip.” He’s not entirely sure why it is funny, only that it is because it’s somehow sex related, and Remus rolls his eyes while James snorts. The anxiety is causing turmoil in his tummy, sharp and horrible and he wants it gone.

“I’m being serious here, Sirius,” Remus finally says when Sirius has calmed down a little. “What’s so bad about not having kissed anybody yet?”

“Well,” Sirius says, trying to breathe through it all. “I mean… What if I am bad at it? What if I’ll kiss someone and they run because they think it’s like snogging a flobberworm?”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Sirius,” Remus whines. “James and Peter, can you leave the room for a bit? I need to speak to Sirius in private.”

“Slap him ‘round his bollocks, you mean,” James mutters, but he gets up and leaves, with Peter following close behind.

“What the fuck,” Sirius says, with Remus already off his own bed and climbing onto Sirius’.

“Sirius,” Remus tells him, taking a deep breath, “I’ll kiss you. All right?”

The painful tension in Sirius’ belly gives immediately, replaced by a light flutter that is nowhere as harsh on his stomach. “What? Would you really?” he asks. Remus is already leaning closer, his breath hot on Sirius’ skin.

“If it will make you let me sleep, then yes,” he mumbles, before pressing his lips to Sirius’.

(He ends up making Remus moan, but Sirius is honestly not sure if that is due to his snogging skills, or a good handful of Remus’ bum in his hand.)

anonymous asked:

Hey, I was wondering if you (or the followers idk) had any tips for getting past perfectionism. I develop these kickass ideas but I'm scared when I go to write them I won't do them justice, leading to procrastination. Sorry I know this isn't an advice blog, but I feel like this is something you might be able to help with? I hope I'm not bothering you guys.

I did a Google search for you and stole this article from Jeff Goins (as a token of my love for you) without his permission (I am such an asshole) source 

“The other day, I came across an old article I’d written for a magazine a few years ago. It had been some time since I’d finished the project, so I had forgotten what I had written.

I was utterly disgusted.

What was this crap? Who was this verbose, arrogant writer? And why was he over-complicating things? I couldn’t believe it.

But the truth is we all ought to feel this way about our past work. The trick is to not let your perfectionist tendencies hold you back from finishing your work.

The creative rut (and how to get out of it)

Everywhere you look, creative people struggle with liking their own work. This dissatisfaction occurs nearly every time I write something, and, it seems to be typical amongst many creative professionals.

  • Directors struggle to watch their own films.
  • Many artists can’t stand to see their work on display.
  • Public speakers often won’t watch themselves on video or listen to their own recorded voices.

Why is this?

Many creatives are perfectionists. I certainly am. I’ve talked before about overcoming perfectionism but wanted to address the issue specifically from a writer’s perspective.

I’m learning to overcome this impediment to productivity by practicing six disciplines:

  1. Capture ideas. We struggle with perfectionism because we procrastinate. We waste time and feel like our work is never complete. So we get stuck. You can fight this by always having a few ideas in the hopper. Evernote is a great tool that allows you to quickly capture ideas and come back to them.
  2. Practice. Another reason we struggle with perfectionism is because we’re honest. Often, our work just isn’t that good. Gladwell says it takes 10,000 hours to become an expert, so how do we get better at writing? We write — a lot. Not in private, but in public.
  3. Wait to revise. The idea here is to not critique or edit until you’ve produced your first, terrible draft. Write that, step away, and return to it later. Good writing takes time, and instant genius is a myth. Get your first draft over with so you can write the next one.
  4. Ship often. Write every day. This keeps you honest and humble. Shipping means sharing a piece of your work with another human being. A great way to do that is through blogging, but there are other ways. We overcome perfectionism by embracing “good enough” so that we can get to excellence… eventually.
  5. Don’t take yourself too seriously. I need to lighten up more; so do you. Writing should be fun. Don’t waste your gift on a bad attitude; enjoy the message God has given you to say. And say it.
  6. Give yourself grace. You may not be that good at writing yet — so what? Are you going to wait until you’re amazing to share your work? You may never write a single word. Instead, submit to the process and kind to yourself as you go.

It’s about action

Ultimately, this is about moving forward, one small step at a time.

Commit to creating something every day, constantly capturing ideas and avoiding the temptation to edit as you go; don’t take yourself too seriously, and give yourself a break once in awhile.

You’ll get there. So will I. Until then, I hope to see some of your work-in-progress out in the world. And I hope you’ll be gentle with mine.”

Originally posted by spacesong

Part 2

A/N : I am sorry , I love Sebastian to pieces but I have to make a twist in the story. Forgive me… 


Standing in your kitchen, it was quiet, some came back home with you to comfort you. Over looking the view from your back yard, hands rubbing your arms as you thought of your mother. Losing her was too soon for you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, someone came up behind you.

You saw him in the glass back window/door that let you out to the backyard.

“ I’m sorry for your loss Y/N” He stopped forward reaching for your shoulder. But you brushed it away as you turned to face him. Standing just a few inches away from him, he looked like he hasn’t slept in days. 

“ What do you want Aaron?” You asked holding back tears and still trying to swallow that lump in your throat. 

“ I-I” he didn’t know how to form words, you were in a black dress, your hair was wavy to the side, you wore red lipstick and make up. To him you took his breath away. 

“ Spit it out..” You rolled your eyes wanting him to just leave. “ Is there a problem here?” Your boyfriend’s voice spoke out as he entered the room. He knew how much Aaron hurted you, he promised to you that he won’t let Aaron ever do that again to you. 

Aaron faced Sebastian who walked closer standing next to you, he put his arms around your waist. Aaron nibbled on the bottom of his lips as he gazed at Sebastian’s hand laying on your waist. Then he made eye contact with you.

“ Nothing..” Aaron shook his head as he stuff his hands into his pockets as he walked away. He couldn’t see you standing with him like that. 

He never imagined losing you would make him fall in love with you. 


Another premier done, you went with Sebastian as your date. Of course everyone knew you two were dating. You became the most cutest couple to be known. 

Paparazzi took pictures of you too doing a morning jog, going to the store, holding hands in public, sitting at a cafe and hanging out with Chris or Lizzy. 

Aaron saw the front page of the magazine ripping it apart. On the front cover was you and Sebastian at the premier, you wore this amazing dress looking gorgeous as ever with a handsome Sebastian by your side. The headline said “ She stole my heart from the moment I saw her,” those were Sebastian words as he told the pap about how much he cared about you. 

Pages flew around the room, Aaron gripped his hair having tears streaming down his cheeks. Wiping them away harshly, he took a swing of a bottle he had drank from earlier that day. He was a mess.

He needed you. 


Sebastian walked over to her house. The other one. The other women. The women he was with while being with you. You had no idea that he was cheating on you. 

Opening the door, he greeted here with a smile.

“ Hi doll” He opened his arms for her to jump into, she squealed jumping into his arms. 

“ I missed you Sebby!” He carried her inside closing the door with his foot.

Meanwhile you and Seb have been together for a few months, being fully with each other. One night Seb went out, he told you he’d be back later. Laying in bed watching netflix, you felt something coming before rushing to the bathroom to throw up

What did you eat this morning? Were you getting sick? Gripping your hair back as you threw up before wiping your mouth with the toilet paper flushing the toilet. 

Walking to the mirror, you looked at yourself. Feel free make up, hair in a messy bun, Seb shirt hung on you like a dress. Turning on the water, you brushed your teeth wanting to get rid of the taste of vomit in your mouth. 

Turning off the water, washing your tooth brush and spitting out whatever you had in your mouth before walking back to bed. Maybe you were tired, turning off your IPad, you drifted off to sleep.


Stretching your arm, you patted the space next to you expecting Sebastian to be laying there but it was empty. Scrunching up your eyebrows, you sat up seeing the covers were never moved. It was left like it was last night before you went to bed. 

Where was Sebastian? Turning to the clock that was next to your bed, you saw it was ten in the morning. Flipping the covers off, you wondered all over your house. No sign of him. Picking up your phone that laid on the kitchen table seeing no messages or calls from him. 

Did something happened? You began to phone him. It kept ringing and ringing then it went to his voicemail. Groaning, you ended the call running a hand down your face.

You called Chris. He said he wasn’t over his house. You called Lizzy, still no sign of him. You called Robert, nope. You called Anthony and still nothing. Where could he be? 

Sighing you began to get ready and waiting for his call. 


You felt like shit at the moment , didn’t want to eat anything, threw up twice. Maybe it was your period coming. Then the door unlocked telling you he was home. 

Standing in the doorway, arms over your chest, glaring and tapping your foot. Oh you were pissed. Pissed as hell. 

Sebastian walked through the door, dropping the keys into the small bowl, running a hand through his hair before he looked up seeing you standing there. 

“ Hi doll” He smiled opening his arms but you stood where you were. He dropped his smile, he frowned. “ What’s wrong?” He asked. You chuckled, he had the nerve to ask what’s wrong when he had you worried sick.

“ Where were you?!” You started to yell. He put his hands up but then you took notice. His zipper wasn’t up, his shirt was inside and out, his hair was a mess. What has he been doing? 

“ I was at a friends house..” He said shrugging walking past you walking into the bedroom. He walked past you , when he did, you caught it. Perfume. A women’s perfume. 

Blinking your eyes, you shook your head not believing it following him into the bedroom where he was taking off his shirt and pants before collapsing in bed. You were still mad at him, leaving him there, you slammed the bedroom door telling him he made you upset. 

Strutting on your jacket and putting on your shoes. You needed some air. Lots of it. Slamming the door as well, you walked out of the house, stuffing your hands in your pocket before walking down the street. 

Don't Mess With the Kings - Weasley Twins Imagine

Request: Can you do a one shot where you’re all great friends and in the middle of a big prank war and eventually it gets out of control but it’s super funny?? Thanks :)

———————————————————————————————————–

     You very slowly and carefully walked up the stairs to your dorm room. You and your best friends since first year, Fred and George Weasley, were in the middle of a very heated pranking war, and you knew that with one wrong step you would be regretting it big time. You ever so slowly examined each step before you stepped on it, making sure that there was nothing that would trigger anything. You relaxed when you got to the top of the stairs. You made a sigh of relief, and strolled into your room.

     As you opened the door, a huge bucket of syrup spilled on you, covering you head to toe in the sticky substance. “FRED! GEORGE!” You shouted. You bolted down the stairs and into the common room. You found Fred and George sitting by the fireplace, snickering.

     You slowly sneaked up on them, inching closer and closer to where they were sitting. The rest of the Gryffindors in the common room grew silent, waiting to see what would happen next. You were right behind the boys. You were about to pounce on them, but you accidentally stepped on a button, causing a mix of confetti, glitter, and feathers to fall and stick on you. Everyone in the common room started to laugh at you. Fred and George were on the floor they were laughing so hard.

     “That’s what you get for putting blue hair dye in our shampoo, Y/N!” Fred said in between laughs. “Yeah, you don’t mess with the pranking kings!” George responded, giving Fred a high five. You smirked.

     “Oh, you two are SO going to pay for this.”

•••••••••••••

     You had a whole plan set. Today, you were going to pull multiple pranks on the twins to get back at them. You still had a grudge on them after the syrup incident. A week later and you still couldn’t some of the glitter out of your hair.

     Right now you were outside of the Great Hall with Ron and Harry, waiting for Fred and George to walk out of the doors. A few students walked out of the doors, and right after them were the twins. “GO!” You shouted.

     You, Ron and Harry started throwing balloons filled with paint at the twins. Fred and George were freaking out, and were trying to get away, but the constant throwing of the balloons kept them stuck to their spot. “Stop, stop, stop!” The twins begged. The three of you ran out of balloons just then so you gave into their pleas.

     The three of you couldn’t help but laugh. It looked like a giant puked a rainbow on them, they were drenched in so much paint. “Just wait boys, that is only the beginning!” You shouted. You, Ron and Harry began to run back to the Gryffindor common room to escape the twins and the teachers.

     “What’s next?” Ron asked. You whispered the plan to him and Harry. “Brilliant,” they responded.

•••••••••••

    It was later that day and you were watching Fred and George practice Qudditch during your off period with Harry. Ron was in class at the moment. The twins were hitting bludgers back and forth to each other, practicing their form. The twins seemed to be having some fun, but you were going to make sure that that wasn’t going to happen in a second.

     “Are you ready Harry?” You asked. “I’m beyond ready,” he responded. “On the count of three. One, two, three!” You and Harry both cast a spell on the bludgers, causing the balls to start bouncing against the twins.

     They tried to fly away from them, but the bludgers were too fast. Fred and George eventually had to land, and once they did you and Harry made the bludgers go back to normal. The twins looked around to see who did it, and when they looked at you, you tried to hide, but you know that they saw you.

     You and Harry could hear Fred and George start yelling obscenities at the two of you. Harry was laughing so hard he nearly fell over. “Wait until you see my last prank,” you told him.

••••••••••••

     It was dinner time at the Great Hall, and your final prank was about to commence. You sat across from Fred and George, desperately trying not to laugh at their paint-tinted hair. They wouldn’t even look at you.

     “Oh come on boys,” you jeered. “What could possibly be worse?”

     At that moment, 2 owls flew into the hall and landed in front of the twins. Each owl had a Howler in its talons. You could see the blood drain out of their faces. You bit your tongue very hard so you wouldn’t have to laugh. “Look at that, the Weasleys got Howlers!” Neville said. The whole hall got silent, including the teachers. Everyone was waiting to see what the Howlers had to say. Each Howler had one of their names on it. Fred and George started to fight over who should open theirs first, and you could hardly contain your laughter.

    “Oh, just let me pick!” Ginny yelled, breaking up the two. She closed her eyes and randomly grabbed one. She opened her eyes and read the name.

     “George, it’s showtime,” Ginny said. You, Harry, and Ron started oohing, and all of you were slapped on the head by George. George took a deep breath, and then opened the Howler. It took the form of a man’s face, and then faced George.

     “GEORGE WEASLEY WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU! I KNOW YOU WERE THE ONE THAT STOLE ALL OF MY MUGGLE ADULT MAGAZINES FROM MY DRAWER! THAT WAS FOR MY WORK NOT YOUR PLEASURE!” Arthur Weasley’s voice came screeching out of the Howler. George’s face was a deep red, even though he knew he never stole those magazines. You got Arthur to say that he did.

    “YOU WOULD THINK THAT YOU WOULD LEARN NOT TO TAKE PEOPLE’S STUFF YOUNG MAN. DID YOU THINK YOU COULD IMPRESS YOUR FRIENDS? WELL I HOPE YOU DID GEORGE BECAUSE WHEN YOU COME HOME FOR BREAK YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS!” The Howler then turned and faced you. “Oh and Y/N, I do hope that you come over for break. You won’t be able to hang out with GEORGE but Molly would love to see you. Goodbye now.” The howler then proceeded to shred itself into pieces.

     The whole hall erupted with laughter. The sad thing for George was that everyone could believe that he would do a thing like that. At this point, he was under the table trying to hide. Even Snape was trying to hide a laugh.

     “Silence, children!” Professor McGonagall shouted. The Great Hall got silent again. “Fred still has his to open,” she said, winking at you and Ron. You both told her about your plan and asked if she could help you pull it off. She said she would gladly help. Fred ripped open his Howler, hoping that it would be over quickly. It then took the form of a woman’s face, and turned to Fred.

     “FRED WEASLEY I HATE YOU SO MUCH! I CAN NOT FIND ANY OF MY BRAS IN MY DORM! I KNOW YOU TOOK THEM FRED! I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU DID IT BUT I JUST KNOW IT WAS YOU! I REALLY HOPE THAT YOU DID NOT TRY THEM ON BECAUSE IF YOU HAVE I’M BURNING THEM!” Hermione’s voice came out piercingly from the Howler. You got Hermione to say one for you, even though you both knew for a fact that he would never touch anything like that, especially if it was Hermione’s.

     “I WANT THEM IN FRONT OF MY DOOR TONIGHT BY MIDNIGHT! IF THEY’RE NOT THERE I AM GETTING DUMBLEDORE TO SEARCH YOUR DORM FOR THEM! ALL 7 OF THEM!” The Howler then shredded itself into pieces, and the Great Hall was filled with laughter once again. Fred’s face was almost as red as his hair.

     “Did you do this?” George asked after finally getting up from under the table. “Of course she did!” Fred responded. “First the paint, then the bludgers, now this! I don’t know Fred, but I think we should surrender!” George said, holding his hands up in the air. Fred agreed, and soon followed suit. You smiled. “And you consider yourselves the prank kings,” you said with a laugh. You grabbed a roll and began to walk out of the great hall.

     Everyone from every house started cheering for you. Word had spread around that you had planned the night’s entertainment. You had dethroned the Weasley twins. You were the new prank queen.

Misha?

“Look I still think we should go after Balthazar.” You exited the Impala into the cool chilly night, along with Sam and Dean. The sudden gushes of wind forced you to shiver until a warm jacket fell upon your shoulders. You looked up, seeing Sam smiling at you with those loving eyes you cherished.

“But how? Plus he’s with Cas, isn’t he?” You snuggled into Sam’s jacket  admiring his sweet cologne. Your boots crunched on top of the gravel as you neared the bunker. You pulled out your key, entering it in the slot.

“Maybe we should call him? I mean what could possibly go wro-”You pushed the handle and the door opended, shining a bright light through which blinded you instantly. You shielded your eyes and Sam stepped in front of you in a protective manner. Once the light dimmed you looked inside your home noticing it was different.

“CUT, GREAT TAKE PAD, ACKLES AND Y/L/N. 15 MINUTES THEN REGROUP” You saw cameras attached to every corner of the room, you looked up seeing the ceiling was missing and the fact that there were hundreds of people in here.

“What. The. Fuck?” The three of you said in unision. You looked at the two brothers with wide eyes who mirrored your shocked expression. You continued to observe your surroundings, seeing people dressed up like the monsters you kill down in the hallroom of the bunker.

“Do we uhm… do we kill anyone?” Dean asked from behind you and you pulled out your knife in instinct though there was something different about it.

“The hell?” You touched the tip feeling it was bunt and your hand glided downwards feeling it was pure rubber. You groaned throwing it to a wall, it should have stuck but instead it plummeted to the ground.

“Rubber… are you friggin kidding me? THAT WAS STEEL ENCASED IRON.” Your fingers found their way to the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache approach. You felt an arm around your shoulder and you looked up to see Sam smiling at you in reassurance that you were all okay.

“Easy now Padalecki, don’t touch the masterpieces” You heard an unusual croaky voice coming from beside you. You turned your head seeing Cas and you felt relieved.

“Finally! Cas, where the hell are we? and what is wrong with the speakers man? Why do you sound like an old librarian?” Dean asked and Cas stared at him dumbfoundingly. He chuckled and grabbed your hand pulling you into a kiss. You shrieked not knowing what to do, so you lifted your hands in the air and suddenly you heard a roar from behind you.

“CAS WHAT THE HELL?” Sam growled which earned looks from both Cas and Dean. His fists were in a tight ball and they turned slightly pale. He suddenly felt the urge to grab Cas’s hair and punch the heck out if but he didnt, he didn’t do it for you.

“Jeez Jared calm your damn tits. Filmings over, you two can quit playing Moose and Squirrel now. Oh babe come with me, I wanna show you something” Cas pulled your hand even though you were deep in concentration. Jared? Who the hell is Jared. When you realised you were being pulled away from the boys you tried releasing your hand from Cas’s new grip. You mouthed the word ‘Babe?” to the boys but they were suddenly out of your sight.

“Okay seriously what the hell?” Dean asked still unmoved from their original position.

“I don’t know” Sam replied trying to track your and Cas’s trail.

“Jesus Sammy, can you quit being jealous for 5 seconds? She’s with Cas, she’ll be fine.” Sam was about to make a snarky remark but he kept quiet. Obviously he was jealous, Sam’s never seen you kiss one of the boys before and he hoped it would be him… not Cas.

“Look we need to just figure out where the fuc- Jensen right this way” A woman grabbed Dean’s hand and led him down the stairs. He looked up to his brother who was following him.

“Uh who’s Jensen? and where are we going?” Sam asked while the lady snickered.

“Funny, Jared. I am going to get this pretty boy into the chair and you have an interview to do.” On que Sam was taken away and the lady set Dean on the chair. He looked up at the pictures, seeing it was all the times he was brutally abused. There was one picture that hit home the most, it was when they killed yellow eyes. He realised how simple life was, revenge, look after Sammy and hunting. Now it’s all become a massive blur.

“Now lets get this makeup off you” The lady wiped Deans face who chuckled.

“Lady I don’t wear makeu… son of a BITCH” Dean saw the wipe was covered in foundation his colour. Dean stared at the mirror, stroking his face in shock.

“I’m a painted whore.”

                                                                                            

“Uhhh Cas where are we going?” You asked your strange friend who was still dragging you to an unknown location. You heard him sigh though you remained confused.

“Y/N… are you, dumb and dumber 2 tryna play a prank on me?” You neared a trailer which had the name MISHA COLLINS on it. You entered the calm trailer seeing your face with Cas’s everywhere. He dropped your hand while he went off to fetch something. You walked around the chairs to the coffee table which had a photo of you and Cas literally kissing.

“What the actual fuck?” You whispered while your eyes travelled to a magazine beside the photo frame. On the front it was you, Sam, Dean and Cas but beneath it their names were different. It read, Jared, Jensen and Misha.

“Misha?” You read out loud.

“Yeah babe?” Cas placed his hands around your waist while his chin was in the crook of your neck. Never in your entire five years of knowing the boys, Cas had gotten this close with you. So currently you felt clean and wrong at the same time.

“Uh… what’s this?” You asked pointing the magazine. Cas sighed and picked it up, nodding in approval at the page.

“Remember when Rob made us do that photoshoot for the peoples magazine? Cause we won the people’s choice awards”

“uh one…. no i do not remember that photoshoot because this isn’t real, and two peoples choice awards? isn’t that an tv award show?” Cas stared at you with an expression you’ve never seen him make before. He was confused smiling and it was creeping you out.

“Yeh okay funny Y/N. Look I’ve got something for you” He handed you the magazine and you put it in your jacket, wanting the brothers to see it. You felt something cool slip onto your neck. Your hands touched the necklace and you looked towards the mirror seeing the loving gaze Cas was giving you. Your heart warmed at it and the necklace was beautiful, you admired it in awe. It was a silver necklace with a diamond crest in the middle of it.

“Cas, this is beautiful” You breathed out and hugged your friend who instead kissed your lips. This was the second time he did that and your eyes stayed wide open. You didn’t know how to react so you simply stood still.

“You can quit calling me Cas babe… filming is over. lets go meet up with the others.” filming?

                                                                                         

“We need to find Y/N and get out of this universe Sammy… i bet she doesn’t even know this isn’t earth… well not our earth earth.” Dean mentioned as he observed the entire stage. He saw two people dressed like them.

“Stunt doubles… you kidding me? Where the hell was my double when I was getting ripped to shreds by hounds” Dean complained while Sam’s eyes travelled around looking for you. His eyes landed on your confused face as you walked in the room hand in hand with fake Cas. Dean noticed Sam’s fist’s form into a ball while his stare became deadly. You pointed to the boys and Fake Cas gave you a kiss on the lips, which you replied unwilling to raise suspicion. What you didn’t know was the jealousy rising within Sam. He loved Cas like a brother but right now he wanted nothing more than to tear him apart.

“Y/N i know you’re freaking out but this- isn’t the real world? yeah i got that.” You finished Dean’s sentence and looked towards Sam, noticing his pissed off expression. You ignored it and continued to talk.

“What I don’t get is how the fuck did we end up here?” You asked as a person who looked like you walked past the three of you. You pointed to her and looked at the brothers who shrugged their shoulders.

“Apparently actors don’t get stabbed by dick angels in real life. Anyway what’d you find?” You pulled out the magazine you stole from the trailer and handed it to Dean while Sam stared at your neck.

“No way… nice blue steel Sam.” Dean opened the magazine, reading it in depth. Wow… people actually watch our friggin lives? Why?” Now it was your turn to shrug your shoulders.

“I really don’t know but it’s funny ca- who gave you that?” Sam cut you off by pointing to the necklace Misha gave you. You totally forgot about the beautiful diamond piece and you smiled at the friendly gesture.

“Misha gave it to me… right so where was I. Oh yeah! It’s funny cause not a lot of people watch it but the f- Misha? Who is he… like your boyfriend or something?” You groaned at the constant  classic interruption coming from Moose.

“Sam what’s wrong? Seriously! What do you got against fake Cas?” Dean was so invested in the magazine he blocked your bicker out.

“Nothing! I just think he’s annoying and stupid. That’s it” He folded his arms and your brain clicked in an instant. Sam Winchester was jealous, maybe this could be interesting.

“Right… so how are we gonna get back? First of all, how the fuck did we get here?” You questioned looking around the set, you were truly astonished at the fact that you were in the bunker but not really.

“How much time do these people have?” You whispered noticing every detail.

“I don’t know but we could try praying? to the real Cas?” Sam suggested and Dean closed his eyes, mumbling something under his breath.

“Y/N?” You turned around to see Cas in his original form, the coat along with the gravely voice.

“Finally! Cas what the hell is going on?” Dean asked while Cas broke out into a chuckle. You groaned as you realised it was Misha the entire time.

“You fuckers are still pranking me, arent you? Well Y/N and Jared have a scene to shoot in the kitchen so I’m here to collect you. Good luck babe” Misha dipped his head and his lips met yours for a split second, before Jared pulled you away.

“Sorry Misha, we gotta shoot” You smiled as his hand remained in yours while he dragged you to the kitchen. You were met with the producer who told you how things we’re going to happen but in all honesty you weren’t paying attention to a word he was saying. Your concentration was locked on Sam’s hands molding with yours, like they were the final pieces for a puzzle.

“Kay you got it Lecki and Y/L/N?” Your train of thought was broken and Sam looked down to you with a smirk.

“Kinda?” You pulled your hand away from Sam’s missing the warmth of it.

“Great, POSITIONS” He yelled while you and Sam walked to your marking point. Sam quickly handed you a script and you saw the title of the scene.

ACT 5, CONFESSION OF LOVE.

You glared at the piece of paper with wide eyes. It’s no secret you and the large hunter have feelings for eachother but the confession of love? That sounded Shakespearean.

“AND ACTION” Sam looked at you while he kept glancing at the paper.

“Erm… Uh. Y/N, we uh… we gotta uhm. What does this say? Oh yeah, we gotta talk” Sam said while he looked at you sternly.

“CUT! Jared put some emotion into it.” Sam nodded and looked back at a frightened you with determined eyes.

“AND ACTION

“Y/N. we. have. to. talk” Sam spoke as if he was swallowed by a robot. You stifled a giggle noticing how he looked slightly constipated.

“CUT!” This went on for a good twenty minutes until Sam had enough. He rolled his eyes and threw the script away, along with yours. He inhaled a deep breath and stood back onto his mark.

ACTION

“Y/N… we need to talk. Look I know this has been difficult, for me and for you but I cant keep going knowing we might never be a thing. Seeing you with men who don’t deserve your glances kill me, no one deserves the purity and beauty your provide. No one!” Sam paused before walking up to you. Your eyes melted with his while his hands reached up to stroke your cheek.

“Every morning I wake up with a smile, because you’re singing in the shower and I can hear you. Every minute when I’m not with you, I’m exhausted because you’re my source of energy, my light. Every night I sleep with bliss knowing you’re in the room next to me, safe and sound. But now I’ve become greedy.” You gulped loudly, Sam’s hands reached down to yours and they intertwined.

“Now, every morning I want to wake up with the smell of your shampoo, next to me.” Sam moved his head down to your neck and kissed it lightly, your eyes closed at the pleasure of his skin on yours. “Every minute I want to be energised because you’re gonna be by myside” His kissed trailed to you jawline, leaving kisses there. “And everynight, i want to fall asleep with you on my chest. Because greedy or not, I need you” Sam lips hovered over yours and you pushed yourself further, impatient from the anticipation. Your hands flew to his neck and he pulled you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“AND CUT! Wow… that was perfect. Better than what we wrote. PUBLISH IT” You and Sam pulled apart, staring into eachothers eyes. You ignored the people around you and suddenly you felt though you were the only people in this room.

“You can put her down now, Jared. Great take babe” Misha called out which broke you two apart. Your cheeks remained flush while Misha escorted you off set. You looked behind, seeing Sam as flustered as you. Your hands went to your lips and you smiled against them.

“Misha hey, gotta borrow Y/N for a sec. kay thanks bye” Dean pulled you out of Misha’s hand and ran towards Sam, motioning for him to follow. Dean was now ahead of you as you ran outside and past familiar motels you’ve stayed at. Your saw your car you lost four years ago and you almost stopped in your tracks, missing your baby.

 Though you continued to chase after Dean and towards a trailer which read the name “JENSEN ACKLES”. Dean looked back to you guys and smiled, slightly out of breath.

“Behold, fake me must be the star of this show” rolling your eyes you climbed the ministairs and into the trailer. You were astonished at how beautiful and soothing it was, Dean must have been the star. Your eyes travelled around the room and they landed on Misha.

“Misha or Cas?” Sam asked when he noticed what you were staring at.

“What is a Misha?” Cas tilted his head while he asked the question, you broke out into a smile and hugged your awkward friend. He lifted his two arms and patted your back, as if you were one of the boys.

“Glad to see you’re not trying to suck my face” You giggled noticing everyone else wasn’t laughing, so you kept quiet.

“Right well, I’m here to take you back.” With a snap of his finger you were once again outside the bunker, as if whatever happened in the last 2 hours disappeared. You were still wrapped in Sam’s jacket.

“OKAY WHAT THE HELL I’M SO FRIGGIN CONFUSED” Dean yelled out in confusion.

“Balthazar knew you were on him so he threw you into a universe, parallel to ours. My apologies”Cas stated while he nodded towards the three of you,

“Yeah well what’s going on between you two?” You questioned, curious of why they were so secretive. Though the slight flutter of wings portrayed his departure and uninterested in your convos.

“Cas? CAS? dammit.”

                                                                                         

After the confusing day you decided you deserved hot chocolate. Your feet padded against the bunker floor while you neared the kitchen. You walked in seeing Sam shirtless with his back-facing you. You’ve seen the boys naked in so many scenarios, whether it was a patch up or anything. But after the fake life you two shared, something clicked within you.

“Heya Sam” Sam turned around with a cup in his hand. He had a whipped cream mustache and you laughed at his panicked expression.

“Don’t tell Dean that i’m cheating on my diet.” You agreed and walked towards him.

“Today was just a really stressful day” You reached up and wiped the whipped cream off of his top lip and you noticed your fingers lingered on there for a few extra seconds. You pulled away and cleared your throat, grabbing a mug for yourself.

“So how are you?” You asked in hopes to attempt a conversation in this unpredictable situation. You grabbed all your ingredients and threw them all in a rush while Sam stayed quiet.

“I meant every word you know. Every damn word. I need you Y/N , you’re mine only and if you’re ready. Then let me be your one and only” You gulped, nervous of the consequences that came from your happiness. You stared into his hazel green eyes and your heart melted at the sincerity.

“I need you too” You subconsciously whispered while he closed the distance between the two of you. His lips met yours again and your head was light and the butterflied in your stomach were too loud.

“Guys… i’m go- NOT IN THE PLACE WHERE WE EAT” Dean walked into your intimate moment and you pulled away from Sam, blushing at Dean finding out.

“As I was saying before you violated our poor counters, I’m going to go buy a damn 6 pack. Pace yourself, damn rabbits” Dean mumbled before leaving the room. You smiled into Sam’s chest who simply kissed the crown of your head.

“Jealous you is my favourite” You heard Sam snicker, like he was going to retaliate but it was purely obvious he was jealous.

“Shut up… you’re mine and mine only” Sam growled seductively in your ear and he picked you up while you giggled uncontrollably. He kept kissing you and leaving soft bites on your body which caused you to moan slightly.

“AT LEAST WAIT TILL I’M OUT OF THE DAMN BUNKER” Dean yelled out before he slammed the doors shut, leaving you with your jealous gigantor boyfriend.

anonymous asked:

Quick question on Panic! related things because I came across your mysteries post - who is Shane Morris? And why don't people like him?

Shane Morris is Ryan Ross’ manager (shanemorris.tumblr) and he is one of his bestfriends as well. Hm, people dont like him because he can be a fucking pain in the arse, he always talk shit about people who selfwarm, or suffer from mental disorders like anorexia, depression and etc. He said that those people arent even trying to get well and they like to be like that and all drama. He also had a fight with Pete Wentz on twitter because he was calling Pete’s son a “monkey” and saying that the FOB fanbase should all die in a holocaust. So, he jokes about serious things and really hurt people. He also was talking shit about Patrick Stump and started fights with teenage girls saying he was going to issue people and etc. 

Pete said to him back off or they will have to solve it in persona, and that Morris should stop being an arse to teenagers on the internet and fighting them like they were a problem. He also said “for how long you thought you were going to mess with my fans without something serious happening to you”.

On the other side, this fandom had a girl who suffered from a disorder called Monomania and simply lived to stalk all them, getting ID, documents numbers and picks, adress, celphones and etc. So, she got to hack Shane Valdes and somehow she got Ryan Ross cellphone and started sending texts for him saying she was Brendon and that changed “his” number. Well, Ryan believed her and she got a lot of personal stuff from him.

This is where a girl called Hannah (Dallonsmlies) who knew everything, told all the fandom about this and we spammed Shane Morris alerting about it. Well, HE DID help a LOT, telling Ryan about this and discovering the girl, making her look for a doctor and write a letter for all the fandom and people she hurted (Sarah Orzechowski, Brendon Urie, Ryan Ross, Shane Valdes, Keltie Colleen and etc) and then, Morris made she look for therapy and keep him updated about how she was going, or he would involve police in the case.

Also, he helped Ryan when a girl went to his house (because a fucking site posted his address on the internet and get a lot to Shane remove all them) and she stole a magazine from his porch. Ryan was very afraid about that, not because the magazine of course, but because it was a personal space. Again, Shane Morris took care of it. Well, the girl get bullied from the whole fanbase, and Morris stand up for her saying that “everyone makes mistakes and thats ok, i just dont want it happening again” then he gave to Ryan’s tickets (future shows) for her and said “NEVER do this anymore”.

Once another girl KEYED his car in front of his house, and Shane acted again alerting that people who stalk Ryan Ross in his addres would get in serious problems.

Well, he is a pain in the ass but he also is a bless for Ryan Ross. Its a hard time, you know?

But, that is Shane Morris.

(Im sorry if I mispelled a lot of things, english is not even my first language, im trying!)

w-tch-b-tch  asked:

You're very fashion savvy, are there any designers/ collection you've lusted after?

Oh, thank you! I tend to start my own trends rather than following after any particular designer. I’m thinking of even starting my own line someday.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: "Wait--what? Tony's your Dad? Does he know your dating Remy? 'Cause I'm totally going to tell him!"

Darcy scoffed at Clint.

“Please, how do you think I met him?”

She went back to reading her magazine, but he took it away so she would talk to him. Always so desperate for attention.

“Wait, he introduced you two?”

She shrugged.

“Eh, not exactly. I snuck into one of his poker nights. Fell in love at first sight. Remy sang me a song. I got my first kiss. It was a great night.”

Clint’s mouth hung open and he blinked several times before his brows came together as he finally processed the information.

“Your first kiss was Remy?”

“Yep.”

She stole her magazine back and tried to get back to her article on how to properly set the dye in jeans (she was tired of blue thighs), but he grabbed it back, eliciting a growl from Darcy.

“When was this?”

She huffed and folded her arms, but then grinned at him as she paused.

“Oh, I was about five at the time.”

“And he kissed you?”

She waggled her brows, but the effect was ruined when she giggled.

“On the cheek.”

Cigarettes

In the last days

I treated myself to packs of Camel Wides as if they were caviar.


A boy laying on his belly, head on his hands, inches from the television screen, above, a wispy strata of clouds, shape-shifting languidly.  There, my mother on the couch with her ashtray, her pack of Kools.  I stole some once, never intended to light any, just pack rat treasure, I really caught hell for that. 


I hated what you represented - lung disease, death - I swore never, never, never.  Friends talk you into things and then lament it years later.  It’s alright brother, it’s alright.



Strapping lad, dyed black hair, motorcycle jacket, strolling to town from the sticks, down the American Main Street, the “Arab store”, the adjoining arcade and pool hall, a pack of Camels: 75 cents (there isn’t a cent sign anymore).  How would I hide these from my mother?  The same as with my Hustler and Oui magazines - Traci Lords and Linda Blair and Camel Non-filters tucked in the heap of my closet.


Meet me by the old sycamore tree behind the barn, then as in now, let me fix your pioneer scarf, Vasilina, the years have left it behind, but won’t you put it on for old times, I’d love to see you in it, we could laugh about how absurd it would be to be worn again, I’ll light your cigarette from the red hot cherry of my own, friends do that for each other.  The sycamore, it’s a real place you see, surrounded by brambles now, I should have had one last smoke there, my hand resting on the majestic girth of that towering, magnificent tree, like old times again.  The leaves at the top are gargantuan, you see them when they come down in the Fall, the smoke could never reach so high up.  Behind somewhere, amid the thorny growth of a rewilding pasture - a depression, a sink hole from long ago coal mines, a cigarette pack graveyard beneath decades of leaf litter; we couldn’t throw them away at home.


My father found out that I’d been using his old cigarette case.  He’d stopped smoking back in the 50′s.  In his eastern European accent, “Who told you you could smoke, who told you?!?!” That was the second time in my life he ever laid a hand on me.  It was also the last, thank goodness.  He was a bricklayer, his hands were fucking brutal, hard as concrete, a slap to the face had more weight than any punch I’d ever endured from one of my school mates.  I deserved it, I was an asshole.


Oh, how I came to love you and I did love you, every one of you, even the ones I never paid any attention to, on the way to work, one after another at the bar, smoldering away in an ashtray atop an old baby grand piano I was trying to teach myself to play, also near the Tascam 4-track tape recorder, hours of demos, you were heaven, you were the stuff of creation…

and then there were those I remember well, falling back onto the bed covered in sweat, the brush of skin, the smoke filled room…

Women smoking, God what a turn on, I remember her in that beret, a cigarette dangling from her lips, as cool and clandestine as a French resistance fighter during World War II, I looked to see if she had a Sten laying across her lap. I would have her, I had to have her, she would have me, for awhile we had each other, long drives in the countryside with windows cracked, her hand inching up my thigh as I drove, the night wide open and full of possibilities.  Kiss me deep with your smoke stained breath, the way you use to, so repulsive to so many, but fuck them, they weren’t us, they don’t drip with passion and indecency like we did.


You’re killing me, you tried your best to kill me, you may kill me yet, you killed one of my best friends six years after his last cigarette.  I’m in the minefield now, I know it, at my age you could blow me up at any second, I’ve smoked mountains of tobacco by this point…

Oh Gitanes, navy cut, that rare identifiable aroma, the occasional imported treat. They aren’t the same as they once were, I made Gitanes a pilgrimage in Spain, finally found them in Zaragoza, a smoke shop on a side street emptying out onto the plaza in front of the Catedral de San Salvador, I stepped back out onto the street, the pockets of my corduroy jacket stuffed with five euro packs, lit one and was immediately disappointed.  My darling they have muted you, you were once so singular, so vibrant, so wonderfully pungent.  The dancing blue gypsy dances no more.


Oh, the political debates you stirred, statewide bans in public places, I didn’t mind at all, in fact I was happy to comply, then that woman who passed me on the street covering her mouth with her hands, faking a cough, her little protest done in my honor.  Nice, well up yours, cunt!  I’m standing outside for Christ’s sake!  And did you by chance notice all the idling cars at the street light, spewing exhaust?  Go up and down the rows of them and perform your stupid little act of defiance, see who gives a shit, see how many think you’re a lunatic or just plain stupid.  Do you really believe you’re going to live forever?  Do you really believe I’ve diminished your days on earth?  Here, if you’re going to act so offended, let me blow a cloud right in your face.  Take your self righteousness and your silly, overly obsessive concern for your precious well being and go suck on the exhaust pipe of your SUV.  Something will get you in the end, it always does, I just know I won’t have had a hand in it, despite what you think.


I won’t hate you, you know, I could never hate you, you were my decision.  I won’t cry to the heavens on my deathbed exclaiming, “Why me, oh why me?!?!” I knew what I was doing to myself, I haven’t any regrets.


[If there be a heaven, please let it be well equipped with ashtrays.]


The last packs were chain smoked, smoked with real purpose and the last cigarette fell into a can of butts, extinguished unceremoniously - the skilled, unthinking movements of a true veteran. 


Ahh my dear, I miss you already.