i think i have found every hi res picture of mark

anonymous asked:

Hmm, I don't know why people say :Re isn't a tragedy. For me, is a tragedy, not same TG OG was, but still. You think the same? :Re isn't a tragedy for you? Now, I think Comedy and Tragedy are complementing each other, so this is the result.

This was a point brought up in discussion by Charade @hysyartmaskstudio a long time ago but I think it’s a good one. Let’s pretend for a moment that Tokyo Ghoul isn’t written by some faceless guy known only as Ishida-sensei, and instead imagine the piece itself without the author behind it.

In that case, why exactly is Tokyo Ghoul a tragedy? Is it because it ends with a lot of character death, but not much having changed in the world at large because of it? Is it because it’s a story where a lot of sad things happen? I think to make it simple as possible, ignoring Aristotle’s Poetics and what a classic greek tragedy would be in comparison to modern tragedy, the reason why Tokyo Ghoul is considered a tragedy is because in the first chapter Kaneki Ken tells you that his life is a tragedy.

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Control (II)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Mark

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 4,403

Summary: On a night out with your friends, you accidentally text the wrong number for advice. The guy on the other end of the phone is abrupt, harsh and kind of an ass - but he also happens to be right. Which explains why you keep texting him. Right?

Originally posted by j-miki

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We're the Ones Who Live: Richonne One Shots Chapter 15: Married at First Sight, a walking dead fanfic | FanFiction
A prompt inspired by @RiseupRichonne on Tumblr. A married at first sight fic set in an AU zombie universe. Rick and Michonne are the adult children of the leaders of Alexandria and the Kingdom. Their parents are sure that the pair is a match made in heaven. Michonne wonders what the future holds as they spend their first night together.

Originally posted by alwayseverythingrichonne

“You’re sure about this?”

“Rick, you’ve asked me that at least a dozen times now.”

“And I still haven’t gotten a convincing answer, Michonne,” he implored. His blue eyes seemed to glow preternaturally in the low light of his bedroom. Their bedroom, she realized with a start.

“The sooner we do this, the sooner it will be over with,” she lowered herself nervously to the bed, layers of tulle and lace gathering beneath her. She would never have chosen such a garish dress for herself. Unfortunately, her input had mattered little when it came to the subject of her wedding. The man in front of her, her husband, had been vetted and selected with careful consideration. Both his parents and hers were in complete agreement as to their compatibility. She had only met him a handful of times before, on trades and group runs. They’d never exchanged more than a few words at a time.

“We don’t have to do anything,” his twang was unfamiliar to her ears, but oddly comforting nonetheless. He sat beside her, his tuxedo clad leg brushing hers.

“Except get married,” she did not mean to say it, but the words slipped from her lips before she could stop them.

Surprisingly, he laughed, the mirth evident on his face. “Crazy world, ain’t it?”

She was inclined to agree. Still, insulting the man she was meant to spend her life with did not seem like the best option. “I didn’t mean to offend…”

“No offense taken,” he assured her, loosening his tie. He had tanned, calloused hands, the hands of a man who was used to working outside. The sight of them was reassuring. Perhaps he would not mind her callouses. “My parents said they used to do things like this in some places in the world, even before the turn.” He continued, studying the tie that was now draped across his lap.

“Apparently, it was effective,” Michonne smiled gently at him. “Otherwise, why continue it?” She fiddled nervously with her own fingers, suddenly wanting to be rid of the dress, back with the familiar weight of her katana swung across her back.

“We have to repopulate the world. I guess it takes some coercing,” Rick chuckled wryly to himself. “Still, they could have given us a moment.”

“Sometimes we don’t get a moment, not in this world.” Michonne did not know why, but she was echoing the argument her mother had used against her when this plan had been announced.

“I guess that’s true,” Rick looked thoughtful. “Still, we don’t have to get started on it tonight. Not if you don’t want to.” Michonne studied him. She’d never much looked at him in their limited interactions before now. There was little time to focus on anything but survival when you were outside of the walls of any settlement. Rick had always handled himself confidently on the road. She saw now that his confidence extended beyond just work.

“Would you want to?” Michonne questioned him, amused by his seeming lack of nerves. She was impressed, truth be told. He was handling the situation with a grace she admired. She imagined he could have had his pick of Alexandrian women. Now, he was hers. He did not seem bothered by it.

Rick shrugged, a slight blush creeping up his lightly stubbled cheeks. He’d been clean shaven this morning when they said their vows. All four communities had shown up, bells on. It wasn’t every day that the communities intermarried, and certainly not two people who were so prominent. Still, prestige had not earned Michonne the right to pick her own partner. She’d been paired with a fighter as strong as she was, at least according to her parents. Rick was a survivor. Now, they would start a new generation of survivors.

“It wouldn’t be so bad,” he grinned lightly at her, his eyes raking teasingly over her. She flushed beneath her dark skin, but couldn’t help her amusement.

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Apollo pt. 7

Apollo Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Writer blocks can be really frustrating, and sometimes having a “muse” doesn’t really help either. - Specially when your inspiration might not be there with you forever. ModernAU!

Warnings: None

Words: 3975

A/N: My angst game is getting weak. Halp. Shit this gif fits so fucking well with the situation I just

Originally posted by coporolight

“Where it began
I can’t begin to knowing
But then I know
It’s growing strong”

Bucky sang along, music playing on his head, feet cold, dirty, and wet from the long walk he decided to take from his house to Steve’s.

He wasn’t drunk, but he still felt numb; he wasn’t hurt, but he could hear his heart cracking inside him; he was also shivering, but it wasn’t because of the rain pouring on him.

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A/N: This is a re-upload from the old “thestorytellerofkpop” account! :3 -Admin Germane.

Summary: You and Suga reminisce about the old times while looking through old childhood photographs.

Word Count: 1328

I was sitting on the floor of my shared bedroom, an old photo album was spread out on my lap and other photo albums surrounded me. I smiled sadly at one of the pictures, chuckling in irony.

“Reminiscing?” I turned around and saw my boyfriend leaning against the doorway, a small smirk on his face. I gave him a soft smile and cocked my head at him, telling him to come over and join me.

“Look at this photograph. Does that bring back memories or what?” I teased as Yoongi sat behind me. He took the photo from me and chuckled, placing his head on my shoulder and wrapping his arms around me.

“How could I forget? Hobi’s wedding was the most memorable event in our lives.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he laughed again.

“What the hell were we even doing that night? And I don’t even want to know what’s on Taehyung’s head.” he said, handing me back the photo.

“I found your old photo album too.” I said, pulling it closer to us.

“No way.” Yoongi said teasingly, removing an arm from my waist to open it up. He flipped through the pages, stopping at one of them.

“Hey look. This is where I grew up.” he told me. I looked down at the small house in the photo, smiling slightly.

“I didn’t know at the time we were living without, before we moved. I remember always sneaking out of the house from the second floor to do stupid crap.” he chuckled, shaking his head. I looked back down at the album in my lap, and smiled at the other photos.

“And this was were we went to school.” I smiled, pointing at the photo.

“Nah. I remember it looking more like a jail.” he teased. I chuckled and shook my head.

“I always thought I had better things to do…than go to school. Y'know besides the fact that I “broke in” twice for so called vandalism when I didn’t do shit.“ Yoongi’s words were hard so I turned back and looked up at him; his eyes were glassy at the thought. I gently kissed his cheek.

“Its not to late to graduate you know. You can still go back.” I told him.

“If I was them I wouldn’t let me back in.” he confessed. He pulled me into his lap, closing the photo album as I continued to flip through my own.

“Do you remember the old arcade?” he asked me as he peered over my shoulder to look at the photos. I chuckled and turned back to look at him.

“Oh yeah. I remember you blowing every dollar you ever made there with the guys, while I would run the counter.”

“So you noticed the bad boy even back then?” he asked teasingly. I felt my cheeks rise in color as he placed a kiss on the back of my neck.

“You were always interesting…besides its not like you liked the shy little class rep back then.” I said softly.

“Really? Why do you think I was always there if I didn’t have feelings for you? You and I both know that I beat every game in that arcade Y/N just so I could flirt with you.” Yoongi said. I felt the smile grow on my face as I turned the page.

“I remember the cops never liked you hanging out there with me in the late hours of night. They always told me you were no good.” I confessed.

“Well they were wrong about that.” he said and I nodded in agreement. I pulled out a photo and handed it to him.

“Remember that?” I asked, a small smile on my face. I felt him nod as he handed the photo back to me.

“Who’s bright idea was it to start a band anyways?” he asked.

“Who knows, but look where it brought you. I remember when you asked me to be lead female vocals though. I thought you and your friends were out of your mind, asking a girl to join your rapping boy band.”

“But you still joined anyways.” he mocked.

“Only cause you were desperate at that point.” I teased.

“That and you liked me.” Yoongi retorted.

“Mm…maybe.” I teased.

“You’d always sing every song that came on the radio whenever we had to drive to a gig. You’d always say that steering wheel always listened to you sing the best,” Yoongi mentioned, “However you never knew someone else was always listening right behind you in the back seat.” he added, placing his head in the crook of my neck. I just shook my head and flipped the pages to the album leisurely.

“Oppa, you’re such a softie. Whatever happened to the bad boy I grew up with?” I teased. I felt Yoongi nip at my neck and I yelped in shock.

“I can be bad if you want me to be babe.” he winked. I giggled and pecked his lips before turning back to the photos.

“Look at that. Junior prom…” I felt Yoongi’s head move up from my neck to peer over my shoulder.

“I went with Mark. Ironically, he was my first boyfriend and my first kiss.” I confessed. I felt Yoongi tighten his hold on me and I chuckled.

“Oh don’t be jealous. I haven’t seen him in forever since we moved to Seoul. He’s in L.A. now, I wonder how he’s doing.” Yoongi flipped the page and I could feel his smile widen.

“Now I like your Senior prom picture better.”

“Only because you’re in it.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“That and because you were absolutely the most beautiful girl that night.” Yoongi pecked my cheek and I swore he could feel the heat radiating off my cheeks.

“Thanks Suga, you were by far the most sweetest date ever.” I teased him, using his old high school nickname against him.

“Of course I was! Only a sweet man could hang out with a sweet lady.” he winked.

“Lady? You must be talking about someone else.” I teased.

“Well obviously your a lady. Otherwise you just have a balloon under your shirt.” he said, poking my stomach. I giggled as Yoongi rubbed my tummy, feeling the little person inside me kick his hand.

“See? Even he agrees.” Yoongi said.

“Or she.” I reminded him closing the photo album. I leaned back against his warm chest and sighed, Yoongi still rubbing my stomach affectionately.

“I miss everyone.” I sighed.

“Only a month left babe, then they’ll be back from tour. I was lucky enough to get to stay with you since you’re literally about to burst.” he reminded me.

“I know but I’m kind of tired of staying at home on maternity leave, not that I mind spending time with you of course.” I said. Yoongi hummed in understanding and we sat in silence for a while.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Yeah oppa?” I asked.

“I wanna add in another photo to the albums.” he said.

“Oh? Which one?” I asked, looking around on the ground for a photo. Yoongi turned me around to face him, his bright eyes shinning.

“The one of you in a white dress and me in a suit and tie.”

“But we don’t-” I stopped mid-sentence and looked at him in shock.


“So…do you wanna? Do you wanna get married and be my wife?” he asked, looking at me with those puppy dog eyes of his. I giggled and nodded, kissing him softly. He quickly returned the kiss before pulling away with a smile on his face

“You know what this means right?” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“That we have to kick Hobi’s wedding to the curb!” Yoongi said cockily. I just smiled and shook my head at his antics.

“Oh shut up you cocky little bastard and kiss me already.” I said, pulling him back down for another kiss.

“With pleasure Mrs. Min.”

A disturbing theory


Yeah…this ones a doozy…

First off, I don’t think this will be in the Bungou Stray Dogs manga since I don’t believe that they would go down this route. On the other hand, we have seen some pretty dark and disturbing s**t such as extreme physical and mental abuse, physiological and visual horror, and…well…Lovecraft (SERIOUSLY BSD WTH????? Though it’s pretty badass to have a character named after THE H.P Lovecraft who was a master at horror ANYWAY)

I really tried to erase the possibility that this theory might be true from my head, but as I thought about it more, it became disturbingly plausible.

After looking over everything, Atsushi’s character and past, reading a rather well written story which you can read here http://archiveofourown.org/works/7090720/chapters/16115383?view_adult=true ,and talking to a few others, the theory only became stronger for me. 

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cornflakebox  asked:

Hi Lissa! I love your work and your stories. I hope to work as a story artist myself, and I was wondering if you could give me some tips! Thanks a bunch!

Answering publicly, because i get this question a lot :)
Sorry to anyone who’s asked this before and gotten an abbreviated answer (or no answer, sorrysorrysorry!), it’s a big thing to sit down and write and i want to be as thorough as i can. But i hope this helps anyone who needs it!

Story tips, wow.
I’ll try and list as many as i can! I’ll try to keep it from getting too ramble-y because man, there’s just so much to talk about! I know i’ll leave some out anyway, because there’s stuff i forget all the time. I’ve had the benefit of learning from some really awesome people and goodness knows i’m still learning from them.
I’ll try and get the biggies :)

NOTE: These are all coming from my experience working in feature animation at one studio. Different studios will have different cultures and ways of working, and i understand that boarding for T.V. is a whole different animal from boarding for feature, but i think most of these should apply to visual story-telling across the board.

And as always, these are TIPS not RULES :)

Always think about your character, what they are doing and why they are doing it. This applies to camerawork too. THE CAMERA IS THE INVISIBLE CHARACTER IN EVERY SCENE. Just as a character wouldn’t do something unmotivated, camera moves and shots need motivation too. What are we looking at? WHY are we looking at it? HOW are we seeing it? How is it making the AUDIENCE FEEL? That’s the core of any visual story-telling medium, and in a time-based medium like film you get a whole other level added on.

- Related note: we should always be with the main character. this doesn’t necessarily mean always LOOKING at them, but we should know what’s in their head, what they want, how they feel about what’s going on at any given point in the story. Usually they are the anchor for how the audience is supposed to feel about what’s happening. You lose them, you lose emotion.

“Entertainment” doesn’t always equal “comedy”; it equals “What i’m watching makes me feel something”. I’ve found that entertainment often comes from specificity. Think about how you do ordinary things, how people you know do them. Say you have a scene where your character is cooking breakfast. How does she do it in a way that no other character would? Maybe she does a little dance while she’s making an omelette if no one else is around. Maybe she NEVER gets a clean break in an egg and always has to pick bits of eggshell out of there. Maybe she’s out of milk and has to sub in yogurt or something and just prays it doesn’t make her omelette totally gross…
(…sorry, i’m digressing, this is just… a description of me making an omelette.)
Think about specifics, make your character feel real, no matter if they’re making an omelette or falling in love or fighting giant robots.

- All that being said, you also have to be CLEAR and ECONOMICAL with screen time. Consider how much time you have to convey an idea. Sometimes you have time to linger and do fun character stuff. Sometimes you just have a few shots to convey a plot point. Learn to gauge what a scene NEEDS and try and see it in the context of the story as a whole. (note: there are usually still ways to get character specificity in these quick beats. try and find them!)

Clarity is important for drawing boards too. It doesn’t have to be pretty, it doesn’t have to be detailed (and in many cases it SHOULDN’T be), it doesn’t have to be finished… as long as it’s CLEAR. This is probably the big difference between storyboarding and illustration; story is NOT the place for making pretty pictures :)

- Hand in hand with the last point, is for story you need to be able to draw clear and FAST. Sequence turn-around can be quick (i once had to do three passes on one scene in a week), and in the course of working on a project most of what you do will be redrawn many, many times. Don’t be precious, don’t be afraid to kill your babies.

As a lot of these tips have probably implied, drawing is only a part of storyboarding. You have to understand story structure and film making. There are a lot of resources out there for this. Robert Mckee’s book, simply titled “Story” is a good starting point for understanding story structure, and Bruce Block’s book “The Visual Story” is an amazing breakdown of all the elements of visual story telling as applied to film (but really it applies to anything). I also always direct people to Mark Kennedy’s blog. Mark is a head of story here at Disney, amazing board artist, teacher, and all around good dude. His blog is a masterclass in itself, and he covers a variety of topics from drawing to composition to story: http://sevencamels.blogspot.com/

This is a big one and functions on many levels; you have to work with a team; you have to be able to give notes constructively and not get offended if your notes aren’t taken; you have to remember that you’re working to support the DIRECTORS vision, not your own; you have to be able to take the notes you’re given and not take them PERSONALLY; you have to be willing to throw out all the boards you’ve spent the last week working on and start over if the production requires it; you have to be willing to see your sequence handed off to a different artist who will probably re-draw most of it.
You can’t have an ego because almost NONE of these things are actually about you. They very rarely have any bearing on your ability as an artist. This is just how the process works, and at the end of the day almost no one will actually see the thousands of drawings and all the hard work you’ve done over the course of about two years. They say “all story no glory” and it’s absolutely true.


If you’ve gotten through all of this and aren’t totally terrified… then maybe story is for you :)
Also, to reiterate; many studios work differently. Some places will give you more creative freedom as a story teller than others. I’m really fortunate to work in a place where i do have an amount of creative freedom and feel that my voice is heard and my opinion is valued. But no matter where you work, all of these things can always, always ALWAYS be applied to your own stories. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a big studio or paying the bills as a barista or are still in school, you can ALWAYS tell your own stories :)

Above all, work with confidence, listen to criticism without letting it own you, find the truth in it that will help you be better. And draw draw draw! :)

Im going to be thinking about this all day and flipping out when i remember things i’ve left out.

Lady in Red (Part-1)

Word count: 2400-ish

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warning: Angst

Series summary: A series of disappearances from high-end parties ending in murders, recovered dead bodies sucked clean but without a bite mark. What is it? The reader has been working with the Winchesters for a year now but what is her equation with both of them? Is she in love with a certain green-eyed Winchester?

Song Prompt: “Lady in Red” by Chris De Burgh 

A/N: This is my entry for @torn-and-frayed​‘s Songs of Supernatural Challenge- Season 2. This is going to be a mini-series with at least 3 parts and technically the last part should have been my entry for the challenge, but c’mon who am I kidding? I’ll never get it out before the deadline. The entire series is going to be based off the song. I really hope you guys like it!

Beta: My lovely babe, @sdavid09

Update: Part 2

Originally posted by deangifsdaily

“This is frustrating!” You sighed as you slammed shut yet another book.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor of the library with your back resting against Sam’s legs who was lounging on the couch.

“Patience, Y/N. We are bound to find something,” Sam said but he didn’t sound too excited either. Both of you had been scouring through the lore for hours now, looking into the most peculiar series of murders. Something was taking young, rich women from middle of crowded places- parties, charity events, and balls. The dead bodies had been recovered from various ditches on the outskirts of this particular town, sucked clean of all life fluid, but without a single bite mark. It had been painful to look at those shriveled up mummified bodies even in pictures, it had to be something supernatural. Dean had decided to check the bodies out since the town was only a couple hour’s drive from the bunker, while you and Sam had stayed back to find anything that could clue you in on the monster.

Dean. One stray thought about him and you had come undone. You had been hunting with the Winchesters for over a year now and that was the exact duration of time that you had been in love with Dean Winchester, a hopeless and all consuming love, but just as unrequited. You pulled your knees up and hugged yourself tighter as your heart twisted. Sure you were taken with him the moment you had seen him, but the seemingly innocent crush at first sight had turned painful over time as day after day you saw him sauntering into the bunker in the mornings, with just-fucked hair and the smuggest of smiles. You were not stupid, you had seen the sort of women he spent his nights with. After every successful hunt when you went out to celebrate in a bar, women practically threw themselves at the green-eyed Winchester- hot women with low cut blouses and swaying hips and you couldn’t be more different from those.

Of course you knew they were just mind-less hook-ups for him. Over the year you knew enough of him to know that he wasn’t scared of commitment, he only had this weirdest notion etched in his head that hunters can’t have that life. Yet, you had seen hunters settle down with other hunters and as much it hurt you, whenever the thought of Dean finally taking the plunge crossed your mind, you only saw this faceless fierce hunter in ripped jeans and badass leather jacket, boldly flirting with Dean over a bottle of beer. Even that image was far from you.

You sighed. You weren’t that hot chick from the bar and you weren’t that ultimate badass hunter either. You were a nerd! A dorky, bespectacled nerd. This was what you did best, hole up in the library, dressed up in baggy t-shirts with sarcastic quotes and shorts, researching and taking care of the back office while the Winchesters hunted. You weren’t useless. You could hack into any damn system within minutes, re-route cameras, produce fake documents that could give the originals a run for their money and you were stealthy. You had pulled the Winchesters out of tight spots more number of times that you could count.

Your quick-thinking was what had gotten the Winchesters to notice you in the first place. Your father had been a hunter and you had been with him on the same case that had brought the brothers to that particular town. The police there had almost pinned them for fake FBI, except you had intercepted the call to DC and confidently confirmed their affiliation. Later that night your father, who had known John, had proudly presented you- the girl who saved asses- to the boys. One look at Dean and you were head over heels. You had stuttered your name, letting the bangs fall to your face so you could hide furiously flaming cheeks.

That was one night you could never forget. It was the night you had found your best friend- Sam Winchester. You had been sitting alone at the bar, fiddling with the hem of your shirt while drinking a fruit punch, because booze wasn’t really your thing and you were too much of a chicken to join the table with your dad and the Winchesters. That’s where Sam had found you. The boy had been awed by what you could do with a computer. You had been shy initially but then you had told him the story of how you had had to drop out of Stanford when your mom was killed by a shape-shifter. It had been too much for you and you couldn’t continue school. You had helped your dad find the shape-shifter and eventually kill it. Sam had smiled sadly at you, telling you his own story, which had been so painful, that you had tears in your eyes by the end of it. You had talked all night long, even after the bar had been shut. There was something about Sam that made you open up to him.

But that was not why you remembered that night. You remembered it because that was the last night you had kissed your father good-night on the cheek. You had stayed back in the motel, while the boys and your dad had left for the hunt in high spirits. Your father had kissed you on your forehead and boisterously climbed into the Impala, laughing with the boys. A coven of three vampires? Cake walk, right? Only, it wasn’t. You had waited with baited breath, as always for him to return, but this last time, he hadn’t. You still remembered how you had ripped yourself from the bed and quickly scampered to the window when you heard the rumble of the Impala. But only two people had gotten out of the car and your dad wasn’t either of them. You had been so confused, your mind rejecting the immediate reasoning. You had watched as the brothers walked up to your door and opened it.

You had looked into Dean’s eyes as he uttered a single word- “Sorry”. He had explained to you how the nest had actually been bigger than what they had surmised earlier and how a lone surviving Vampire had attacked your dad at the very last minute, when they had thought that the hunt was over. It had been your dad’s dying wish that they cremate him without you having to see him dead, like you’d had to see your mother. Dean had repeated a steady stream of sorry’s after that because he couldn’t bring your dad back, but you hadn’t moved or even uttered a word. Only when Sam had called out your name, had you launched yourself at Dean, hitting him every way you could. Your tiny 5'4" frame couldn’t possibly have done any lasting damage to him but you had flung yourself at him nevertheless, trying to hurt him as viciously as you could and he hadn’t even tried to defend himself.

A miniscule part of you that was still rational knew that it wasn’t Dean’s fault, death during a hunt was never anyone’s fault. Your dad knew what he was getting into and from what Dean had told you no one could have helped him. But you still wanted to blame Dean for this and the fact that he was actually holding himself guilty was what aggravated you further. And that’s what you had done. You had yelled yourself sore and hit him till you couldn’t feel your hands and you would have continued had Sam’s gentle but firm hands not pried yours from Dean’s chest and pulled you to his. That’s when you had broken down. You had clutched Sam’s bloody shirt and sobbed yourself into unconsciousness.

The truth was that you had been angry. Terribly and insanely angry. Angry with your father for continuing down this path of revenge even after your mother’s death had been avenged, angry that he hadn’t quit even after you had pleaded so much, angry that he went on this hunt and angry that he had decided for you whether or not you got to see him that one last time. It should have been your decision to make and now you would never see him again; never see that that smile again, ever. You were angry with Sam and Dean too for letting him have his way. By stepping up and apologizing, Dean had just made himself an easy target for your outburst. It’s just the way he had walked into the bar the night before, all alpha-male- you had been awed. Looking at him, you’d thought that this Greek god of a man could never falter, could never make mistakes, could never fail. What you had forgotten in your minute of over-glorified admiration was that Dean Winchester, in all his cockiness, masculinity and heroism was still in fact a man who hurt and failed just like everyone else.

What you didn’t know was how he had beaten himself up over failing you and your father that night, what you had done to him was nothing compared to what he did to himself. When you had finally woken up in the morning, the grief had been much worse but so was the remorse. It had eventually come to you, how pointless and shameful it had been to blame a mere stranger for your dad’s death, especially after he had done everything in his power to save your father. Seeing Dean had been even worse. You had left bruises and scratches all over his face, his chest must have been way worse. You had been so ashamed of yourself that you couldn’t even meet his eyes. He had however politely asked to sit next to you on your bed while you had scooted away and backed into the dashboard, pained by his humility. In all your sadness, you had only listened to Dean as he apologized once again and asked you if you’d move in to the bunker with them. He had made it perfectly clear that it wasn’t of pity but purely because of your talent, however both he and Sam would understand it perfectly if you weren’t interested and hadn’t forgiven them.

The truth was that there was nothing to forgive them for and you really didn’t have anyone, anymore. You had been a loner all your life- the nerd girl at the bench in the back of the class. It was your Mamma and Daddy who had your back. They were the only ones who knew how talkative you were and you had never needed anyone else and suddenly you had no one.

Dean had said his sorry once more, without meeting your eyes and had risen to leave when you had caught hold of his hand, to stop him, uttering one sentence- “I’ll come with you.”

That one sentence had changed your life. The one year that had followed, had made you realise that you couldn’t have met two better men. Sam had been a pillar through the initial few weeks. Even though you hardly knew him, he was always there, holding you and whispering kind words, always reminding you that things will get better and eventually they had. That was what had cemented the friendship between you two. You were about as comfortable with him, as you were in your own skin. He was like a brother and your best friend now.

With Dean, the initial phase had been difficult, where you had avoided him at all costs because you couldn’t look at those bruises on his jaws, couldn’t look at the sadness in his eyes. You couldn’t find it in yourself to take those few steps to his room and say how sorry you were. Dean had been perfectly civil, giving you your space while you adjusted in the bunker. The awkwardness would have continued had it not been for the next hunt where you had not only figured out what it was that you had been hunting but also saved their asses from the authorities. You had all celebrated the night by binge-watching the Mission Impossible movies and somewhere between Ethan Hunt’s impossible saves, you and Dean had relaxed around each other. Over the year while he had increasingly become comfortable around you and admired you for your wit, you had completely fallen for the man.

What had started out awed admiration had eventually graduated into respectful love. Yes, love. You understood the implication of that word and this was definitely that. That first time he had made you weak in your knees and set your heart racing but now every time you saw him, you all but melted. He was much more than a divine face and a smart-mouth, he was one of the purest souls you had ever met. There was no question of not loving him, there never was. Even now whenever you saw him, you found it hard to get a single sentence out without stuttering. Dean had come to assume that maybe that’s how you were around everyone, but he couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“You’re right, this is frustrating!” The thump of the book as Sam shut the book, brought you back to the now.

“We’re never going to find what monster this is,” you groaned. Your stomach groaned with you. That’s when you looked up at the clock and realized that the both of you had been holed up researching for 5 hours straight.

Sam chuckled. “You’re hungry Y/N, and so am I. I’ll make a food run.”

“No Sam,” you stopped him. You were tired of all the take outs. “I’ll go fry us some eggs. You should take a break too.”

Sam flexed his fingers and pulled his laptop towards himself. “No, Y/N. I think I should go through those book-marked articles again. I have this nagging feeling that I’m missing something.”

“Alright Sammy boy,” you called out as you pushed yourself off the floor and made your way to the kitchen, “You keep digging.”

In the kitchen, you quickly set to work, falling into your routine pattern from whenever you cooked- pan over the stove and music blaring on your I-pod. You always started with the same song- Lady in Red by Chris De Burgh.

The familiar beats filled the space as you sand along-

I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight
I’ve never seen you shine so bright
I’ve never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance

Your hips swayed to the rhythm on their own accord. This was your go to song, it was your respite. There was a story to it.

“It’s your favorite song, isn’t it?”

You whirled around, startled, as your hands flew to your throat. Dean was leaning against the kitchen door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, a small smile playing on his full lips.

“D-Dean, you’re back,” you stammered.

“Well yeah,” he said and then continued from earlier, “I’ve heard you play it before.”

“Yeah it’s my favorite,” you finally managed. This was exactly the sort of song Dean never played in his car. Standing like that, he took your breath away. How could he not know what he did to you?

“Well, come on out kiddo. Sam thinks he’s figured out what’s doing the killing. The trip to the town was a bust. Here’s to hoping that at least Sammy found something.”

“Yeah, you go on. I’ll be out in a minute with the eggs.”

“Save me some too?” Dean winked at you before turning around and heading back to the library, leaving you to pick up your heart which had relocated itself to somewhere near your stomach.

“Right, Winchester,” you muttered to yourself as you made to follow him out, “by the way, I love you.”


@d-s-winchester @supernatural-jackles @deanscherrypie @sis-tafics @deathtonormalcy56 @castielohcastiel @torn-and-frayed

My forever babes:

@coyotesmate @sdavid09 @grace-for-sale @fandomsaremylivelihood @percussiongirl2017 @charliebradbury1104 @winchesterprincessbride @adorable-assbutt @unefemmedelettres @bellastellaluna @pizzarollpatrol @melonberri @cornflax01 @plaidstiel-wormstache @wevegotworktodo @bagiab @carry-on-my-akward-son @chaos-and-the-calm67 @chelsea072498 @wayward-mirage @kas-not-cas @kristaparadowski @theulimatefangirll @feelmyroarrrr @cici0507 @spirallingdownfandoms @spn-fan-girl-173 @unicornpancakes282

My Dean tags:

@gbuttry @jxackles @ruprecht0420 @summer-binging-spn @mckiee-mouse

(Psstt.. I am making a tag list! If you want an in on the forever tags, Dean tags, Sam tags or “Lady in Red” series tags, just send me an ASK :))

Lead Us Not Into Temptation

Single!Jensen x Reader

Originally posted by spnfans

A/N: Chapter 4 in the Where I Belong series! I’m so happy with the success of this series so far and things are about to get interesting.

Chapter 1- Where I Belong
Chapter 2- Getting to Know You
Chapter 3- Just Causing Problems

Warnings: none really, funny J2 moments

Words: 2659

The song Sound of Madness by Shinedown was blaring in your ears from your earbuds and for some reason, you woke up today in a mood. You had been listening to metal and hard rock all morning and decided to suit up in ripped jeans, black combat boots, an old AC/DC shirt and a red flannel. Your hair was up in a ponytail and you had a black bandana wrapped around your head, with the bow at the top. You walked onto set not paying attention to anyone and sat down at your chair, immediately going back to review the work that was done while you were on vacation with your sister in Cabo. Admittedly, you were still pissed about what happened with Jensen and it was showing in your demeanor, but not in your work. You worked hard and kept your head down, but it didn’t go unnoticed by your coworkers. Especially Jensen.

He tried time and time again to get you to hang out with him after work to no avail. You denied him every time and ended up just giving him the cold shoulder altogether.

“Rough day there, Valkyrie?” Jared said, plopping down in a chair next to you while you sat watching over a scene that had just been filmed.

The boys gave you the nickname Valkyrie because in Norse mythology she was a super badass who decided who lived and who died in battle, and you just happened to play the part of the goddess herself on an upcoming episode of Supernatural. It was your first time on the screen and you were forced to spend a bunch of time with Jensen for a week or so, but luckily that was over.

“Ehh, just woke up in a mood today, Jare” you shrugged, pulling your headphones back over your ears and replaying a scene, thinking you caught something that needed to be fixed.

“Shit” you mumbled under your breath as you realized you could see Jensen’s microphone in a ten minute long scene that was filmed while you were on vacation.

“Hey Ivan!” you called over to the man who was in charge of visual effects and waved him over to you. You pointed to the monitor and looked over your shoulder at him, “Can we fix this in post or will we have to re-film this scene?”

“Holy crap, that’s a huge oversight, Y/N. This wasn’t you, right?”

“Nah, the trainee filling in for me did it while I was in Cabo” you sighed, letting your head fall to your hand.

“We’re going have to re-film all of this” Ivan breathed out.

“Fuck. I was afraid you were going to say that… I’ll go break the news to Eric” you pushed yourself off of your chair and walked over to Eric’s office, dreading every step.

“Hey Kripke” you knocked, letting the door fall open.

“You only last name me when it’s bad Y/N. What is it?”

“We have to re-film Jensen’s entire monologue from episode twelve, I guess whoever was filling in for me didn’t catch that you could see his mic the entire thing and it’s too obvious for us to just remove it in post” you leaned against the door jamb, looking at Eric with pleading eyes, begging for him to not be mad.

“Well shit.”

“That’s what I said” you laughed out, walking over to a chair across the desk from him and plopping yourself down. Eric pulled the scene up on his computer and simply nodded his head, agreeing with you and Ivan that it needed to be re-filmed.

“Fortunately it’s only Jensen that’s in this scene, so we won’t take time away from today’s shooting. However,” crap you didn’t like the sound of whatever was coming, “You can handle shooting that scene, so I’ll be asking you and Jensen to be the only ones staying late tonight.”

“Eric.” your tone was stern and he knew what it was about.

“Y/N, nobody else needs to stay and this scene needs to get done. Suck it up” he dismissed you with a wave and you groaned as you got up to go tell Jensen what the deal was.

This would be the first time you had spoken in two weeks.

Walking up to his trailer, there was a knot in your throat the size of Texas. You read his name on the door and your heart leapt up into your mouth. Your hand was shaking as you tapped on the door.

“Who is it?” you heard muffled from inside.

“Jens, it’s me” you said with your voice slightly raised so you knew he would hear you. Seconds later, the door whipped open and Jensen was standing there, surprise evident on his face. You stood there expectant, waiting for a moment before he snapped out of his daze.

“Shit, sorry. Come in Y/N” he said, shaking himself out of whatever zone he was so briefly trapped in.

“So Jensen, the trainee that was filling in for me messed up your episode twelve monologue big time and Eric requested that you and I stay late tonight to reshoot” you blurted out before he could ask any questions.

“…just you and I?” he asked, hesitant.

“Yep, just us. Eric knows I can handle the camera and sound” you smiled and sat there for a moment more before moving, “Well anyway I’ve got to get back to work” you started to get up and Jensen stopped you by putting himself between you and the door.

“Wait. Y/N listen-”

“Jensen, don’t,” you sighed and put a hand up “I meant what I said and I think you need to sort out whatever is going on with Dani before we start hanging out again, cause clearly she thought we were much more than we were and it struck a nerve in her. Probably because I’m guessing the divorce wasn’t that long ago” you said, leaning against Jensen’s counter.

“But she was the one that wanted a divorce…” he mumbled out with his eyes towards the floor.

“Jay” you grabbed his chin, making him look at you “It doesn’t matter who wanted it. The fact is, it happened and the two of you need to at least be civil for your daughter’s sake and if for you that means laying low in the female department then that’s what you have to do. The wounds are still fresh and I’m sure you wouldn’t feel too great if you found out Danneel was already hanging out with another guy.”

“I guess you’re right” he admitted, but damn if he didn’t sound defeated. 

You looked at the man in front of you with sad eyes, but his demeanor quickly changed. He cleared his throat and straightened up and then he sniffed and brushed his knuckle across the tip of his nose, “Alright, chick flick moment over Valkyrie, now get the hell out of my trailer” he laughed as he winked at you.

“That’s the Dean I know!” you laughed and Jensen tossed a pillow at you for calling him Dean. You tossed it back quickly and jumped out of the trailer, shutting the door before he could throw anything back at you.

“You guys finally all better? Jay has been so damn mopey since that night” Misha let out as he tossed an arm around your shoulder.

“Not 100%, but we’ll get there once Danneel calms down a little” you sighed, leaning into Misha’s side.

“You know it’s not personal against you right?” he said, turning to face you.

“Yeah, Mish. I know.”

“Okay good. Now where were we? Ah yes, you were going to introduce me to your sister who I saw in your vacation Facebook pictures” he said as a grin spread across his face.

“Aren’t you married, Collins?” you heard Jared interject from a few feet behind you.

“I didn’t mean it that way, you moose. I want to meet Y/N’s sister and see how insanely different they are” he laughed, patting you on the shoulder before jumping over the back of the couch in the break room and laying on it.

“Did I hear my lovely Y/N? Is she here?” you heard Mark’s voice from just outside the break room.

“In here, Sheppard!” you shouted behind you as you sat on a chair near Misha.

“Oh there you are my love” Mark cooed in his thick English accent.

“Hey honey” you said, kissing him on the cheek, “You ready to film your scenes today? Lots of angsty Dean to deal with” you chuckled.

“What in bloody hell else is new?” he asked, feigning frustration, causing you, Jared, and Misha to bust out laughing.

“What’s everyone laughing at?” Jensen was leaning against the doorframe and smiling.

“Oh you know, just how Dean, who is basically you, is a big angsty, horny, secretly emotional baby” Jared laughed.

“Shut it, Padalecki” Jensen threatened.

“Or what, Ackles?” Jared held up his hands and waved them in a ‘bring it’ motion at Jensen.

“Oh, that’s it!” Jensen laughed and lunged at Jared, tackling him to the floor. They began wrestling in a fit of laughter and you couldn’t help but laugh because of the sight. Your two best friends, two human trees, two grown ass men, were wrestling in the middle of the floor at their job that they got paid lots of money to do. It was the funniest thing you’d seen in a long time.

Jared had Jensen pinned and he was struggling but just couldn’t manage to break his grip and you were holding your stomach you were laughing so hard.

“Think this is funny, Y/L/N?” Jensen croaked out, still being overpowered by Jared.

You simply nodded, wiping tears from your eyes and continuing to laugh.

“Payback’s a bitch. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya” he threatened.

“Oh please, Ackles. Bring it” you smirked and left the room to go finish your work.

–Hours later–

“Bye Eric!”

“Bye Y/N! Get that scene done and go the hell home and get some rest. You’ve done way too much work today!” your boss chuckled as he got into his SUV.

“Bye Jare” you jumped up to kiss him on the cheek, “bye Mish” jumped to kiss him on the cheek, “and bye Mark” leaned to kiss him on the cheek.

As you turned away, Misha’s hand was on your wrist and his lips were near your ear whispering,

“Hey, take it easy on Jensen, kay? He’s mopey as hell without you around. Just give him the time of day alright?” you nodded at his simple request and he kissed you on the cheek and was off to go home to his family.

You went into the break room to find Jensen and had to admit the set was terrifying when nobody was around.

“Hey Jensen, we’re up. Everyone’s gone, time to film your monologue” you said as you went over to the cabinet to find that all of your favorite snacks and all of your cups and mugs were on the very top shelf where you couldn’t reach.

“Really Ackles?” you spun around and he was laughing way too hard, “that’s your payback? Putting things where I can’t reach?”

“Funniest mild inconvenience ever” he continued cackling while you climbed up on the counter to grab a granola bar and glared at him as you jumped down.

“Let’s get this shit over with” you grumbled with your mouth full of granola bar as you walked past Jensen.

“Oh what, are you all pissy cause you don’t have your big moose here to protect you?” he teased as he followed behind you.

Quickly, you stopped in your tracks and spun around, using your momentum to punch Jensen in the arm, hard.

“Ow, holy shit Y/N that hurt… Do it again” he grinned at you and winked.

“Oh shut up” you blushed and walked to the set.

You settled in your chair behind the camera, pulled your headset over your ears and asked Jensen if he was ready. He gave you a silent thumbs up and looked at the floor, no doubt getting himself into character.

“Action” you called out as you switched your focus to the camera.

Watching Jensen work was amazing. He was such an incredible actor and could tug at your heartstrings even if you were just sitting on the other side of the camera watching him act. You watched him flawlessly do his monologue, hitting every cue and little movement to perfection. Before you knew it, the scene was over and filmed in one take.

“Cut” you said, turning off the recording and hopping off your chair.

“I have to say bravo, Ackles. That was amazing” you smiled, leaning against a wall in the set.

“Why thank you Y/N” Jensen fake curtsied, making you laugh. Damn if that man couldn’t make you laugh from the littlest things. He was adorable and funny and caring and damnit. You couldn’t help yourself but you had a feeling that all these butterflies and the permanent smile on your face when he was around was a signal of you beginning to fall for Jensen. There was something so damn magnetic about him. You felt so drawn to him whenever he was around. His gravelly voice quickly snapped you from your thoughts.

“Hey Y/N, come check this out” he waved you over, standing in the ‘kitchen’ part of the set.

“What’s up, Jen?” you walked over and he quickly picked you up and put you on the counter.

“What the hell?” you giggled as he quickly trapped you on the counter by blocking you with his body.

“Just wanted to show you what it was like to be tall” he chuckled and something deep in his eyes changed as he looked at you. Your gaze went to where his hands had settled on the tops of your thighs and his eyes looked darker when you made eye contact again and he moved forward, pushing himself between your legs.

“Jensen, what are yo-” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before he was leaning in and letting his lips ghost over yours. Your skin was on fire and it felt like electric sparks were running from his lips to yours and you just couldn’t take the anticipation any longer. One of your hands moved to his bicep and the other settled on the back of his neck, letting your fingers slide into his soft hair. His lips finally connected with yours and it felt like fireworks were going off in your stomach. Your pulse quickened as one of his hands went to the small of your back to pull you flush to his chest as your lips melded together, connecting in perfect harmony. With one hand on your back, he let his other hand come up and settle at your waist, squeezing your side tightly. You let out a soft moan into his mouth and heard a near growl come from his throat as he pulled you tighter to his body. The pace of his lips on yours quickened and you could feel him hardening through his jeans and the mere idea of Jensen all hard and ready for you had you nearly soaking through your panties. You let out a moan of his name and let your head fall back as he began to work at your neck, sucking and biting, all while rolling his hips against your center, setting your nerve endings on fire.

But what happened next, neither of you could’ve been prepared for.

“What the fuck?!” you heard a scream from across the room.

Your eyes snapped open and you looked over Jensen’s shoulder to see Danneel standing in the doorway of the set, her eyes welled with tears and her fists clenched in anger. You could see her chest rising and falling heavily but you couldn’t tell if she was about to break something or break down in tears.

“Oh shit” you breathed out, letting your head fall to Jensen’s shoulder.

This was not going to end well.

Tags: @upon-a-girl @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @supernatural-jackles @princess-joe37 @baronmordo @jensen-jarpad @jotink78 @darkx143 @gay-rainbow-kawaii @agentkenziecaptainamerica @speckof-rarity @boredoutofmymindstuff @mannatgalhotra @inmysparetime0 @deanfuckingwinchesterrr

I was craving some Scallisaac feels yesterday and @mighty-alphalpha was awesome and gave me domestic Scallisaac. Posting it here because I want to have it always.


- Allison announcing her pregnancy and it’s kind of unplanned so the three of them are some combination of excited and terrified

- Stiles placing bets on who the baby’s gonna come out looking like (Isaac and Scott are goobers and each hopes the kid will look like the other because they think the other is cuter)

- One night, Isaac and Scott find themselves staying up all night, profoundly scared of becoming like their fathers; it ends up being the final push they both need to go seek therapy. Allison wakes up the next morning to find them huddled together in the living room and only half wakes them up as she joins them on the couch

- Allison being a little insecure because her body is changing a lot with the pregnancy, in some ways that are fun (she loves, loves, loves showing off her round belly, and is pretty happy that her boobs are getting fuller) but also in some ways that re not so fun (her ankles and feet get swollen, there are some rather unwelcome stretch marks, and she’s always been meticulous about shaving /places/, but with the big belly, she kind of can’t anymore). She doesn’t say anything about it, but the boys notice - they notice how she doesn’t sleep in just a t-shirt anymore like she used to, how she likes to dim the lights when they’re getting rowdy in the bedroom. And so they don’t say anything directly about it, either. But there’s a little more of those lingering touches. A few more casual remarks of “holy fuck, you’re gorgeous, Ally”. She notices, and she loves it.

- Name debates. They all agree that paying homage to their relatives, dead or alive, is kind of weird, so they cross out Victoria and Christopher and Melissa and Camden. Several long discussions ensue. They discover just how many people they lowkey hold grudges against because every name just reminds them of someone.

- They’re shopping for some last-minute things - a baby seat for the car, a few more onesies with funny sayings Scott just couldn’t resist - when her contractions start. Cue the three of them HAULING ASS TO THE HOSPITAL (”wait, first we have to actually pay for this stuff”) and Isaac drives, Allison focuses on her breathing, Scott sends the pack a message (they have a very active Whatsapp group, okay). The words “this is it” and “holy fuck” get thrown around a lot



Psssst, personal addition 


you just know Derek is going to look like this 

when he gets to see the baby for the first time

because his crush on Stiles is bad, he knows that, but he is pretty sure the first time you see someone else’s baby you aren’t supposed to be immediately think, “huh, well, I wonder what colour Stiles would paint the nursery? I hope it’s not Batman themed. ” He hasn’t even found the courage to ask him out yet.

And then Stiles would start cooing over his godson- because let’s face it, Stiles and Lydia are totally the godparents- and Derek is gone. Done. He needs to do anything but go home and jerk off to the thought of Stiles and him being domestic. 

What even is his life.

But no. It gets worse. Because Stiles then brings out a tiny little Harry Potter blanket for the baby to hold and that just isn’t fair. Does Stiles know Harry Potter is Derek’s favourite book series? Is he dong this to be mean? 

All the while everyone has stopped looking at the baby because Derek’s heart rate is going super fast and Stiles gently leads him out of the room because he thinks Derek is having a panic attack and he sits him down outside and gets him to count, asks him if he’s okay.

And instead of replying that he’s fine, Derek just goes, “I want you- I mean…one.”

And Stiles frowns, confused, because wait. What. 


And because he’s not any better than Derek he just goes, “okay.”

Which is how they end up having their first date babysitting at Scott, Allison and Isaac’s.

The IT Girl

TITLE: The IT Girl
AUTHOR: fanfickittycat
GENRE: Fluff, Romance
FIC SUMMARY: CEO Tom Hiddleston’s computer troubles are fixed by the IT girl who he wants to get closer to, even if that means looks like an idiot with terrible IT skills
AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: I wanted to get back into writing with something cute and fluffy. This is sort of the love child between Suits (which I shamelessly watch when I shouldn’t be) and every tomcuddlesfic CEO!Tom story, which I have re-read countless times.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

For some reason I really like the idea of one of the twins or Sirius having a smallish romance with a muggle girl just because she would be so easy to impress because she wouldn't know about magic and they could do just so much

SIRIUS HAVING A ROMANCE WITH A MUGGLE GIRL/BOY/NB YES. (this isn’t really exactly what you asked for but still here you go)

  • He meets them in the one record store he always goes to after having a row with his parents
  • They reach for the same Bowie album (@queermarauders will approve) and end up trying to shove it in each others hands for a whole minute until Sirius accepts it and sighs dramatically
  • “At least let me buy you a coffee then I should have some mug.. Money on me.”
  • They grin and nod eagerly, pulling their leather jacket a bit closer around their shoulders. “Sure.” Sirius thinks he might be a little bit in love.
  • They drink five cups of coffee and talk about music and books and it’s ace because they understand each other so well and when they grab Sirius’ hand while laughing their shirt pulls up a little and reveals a couple bruises around their wrist and Sirius stares because he thinks he might have found the one person who understands why he doesn’t want to spend time with his family
  • They are kicked out the café later that afternoon when Sirius climbs on the table to dramatically re-enact his favourite scene from Hamlet
  • They don’t exchange addresses, but decide to meet up the next day in the record shop and if they don’t show up then that’s fate
  • He writes his friends a letter that evening proclaiming he found the love of his life and he’s going to marry them and then move to the Bahamas. (Remus writes him back ‘congrats, please be safe, you know what I mean, you dog’, James sends him a wizarding kama sutra and Peter sends back ‘why the bahamas???’)
  • The next day they burst through the doors of the shop five minutes late and Sirius yowls and fist bumps the air and catches them around the waist so they can kiss.
  • They do a lot of kissing that day.
  • And the next day, and the next and pretty much every day.
  • They make out in the park and are almost caught when a guard passes them by so Sirius has one hand clamped over her mouth and one over his own to hide the laughter.
  • They totally break into said park at night to go skinny dipping even though it’s freezing cold.
  • Probably smoke some weed together and listen to punk music like the badass datefriends they are
  • Sirius takes his camera along and snaps about a hundred shots of them.
  • On the last day before he has to go back to school he gives them a bottle of ink that changes to rainbow colours when you write and a quill, which makes them snort because “who even uses quills, sirius”
    “Are you mocking me, maybe you shouldn’t write me at all”
  • But he does give the Potter’s address, saying they will forward letters to his school with some excuse that he can only get post from people whose address is verified beforehand.
  • They kiss a bit more and Sirius kind of wants to tell them about the whole wizarding thing, but then he doesn’t because what if they’re scared? Can’t risk it.
  • They write for about a year and then the letters just stop - Sirius never actually finds out what happened.
  • He does keep one picture of them in his wallet, because they were his first relationship and it’s something he really values, even though it ended pretty stupidly.

anonymous asked:

Arrow prompt: AU soul mates are very rare nowadays, but Felicity and Oliver are. The soulmate "mark" it's a tattoo that changes color according to the order half's feelings, and for each person a color represents each emotion. Felicity used to hate Oliver's colors, And Oliver hated that his arm was always pink when he was a child. Until they met and Oliver's finds out that pink means Felicity is happy and Felicity gets to actually pass some of her colors to Oliver. Now they are both always pink.

As usual, I twisted it cause that how my muse works. 


The first time her soulmate mark was black, she noticed. It was hard not to. Felicity’s mark, an arrow through a bulls-eye of binary code, was always green. It bordered on a medium green most days, a light green when he was really happy.

The forearm mark was a meter of color. It recorded the emotions of their partner, always a specific color, representing their individual selves. The soulmate gene, as the public called it, skipped a generation. Felicity’s mother didn’t have a mark, her forearm as bare as a newborn.

But in College, near her seventeenth birthday, her soulmate’s mark was black, or nearly black Felicity’s subconscious provided, since it was always a shade of their color. Black meant something back had happened, something that had depressed him.

It was that day she dyed her hair black.

For years, the arrow stayed a dark color, once or twice lightening up to distinguish it as green rather than black. Felicity followed suit, dressing in goth colors to hide how her mark wasn’t bright, that he wasn’t happy or content. That something bad was happening to him and she couldn’t fix it.

This depressed her and she fell in with Cooper, trying to banish the pain she lived with, her soulmate’s emotions, so dark and intense, that they filled her with pain, a trait that was uncommon, but not unheard of, in soulmates.

After Cooper died, she’s taken to wearing long sleeves or banding an ace bandage over her mark. It would never be bright and would be noticeable with her change. She forgot about it, moving across the country to put her mistakes behind her, her failures that caused someone’s death, someone that she had loved.

One day, or one night to be more accurate, Felicity had stayed late, finishing up her assignment, one her supervisor had plopped on her lap and that needed to be delivered to the CEO before the morning.

Felicity finished it, long after her co-workers had left to Tommy Merlyn’s party. She started to wallow in self pity, a small part of her wanting to go, but know that such a thing wasn’t really her scene. But she couldn’t deny that it hurt that she hadn’t been invited.

Lost in her thoughts, she had ignored the smarting pain, a curious throbbing in her left forearm, underneath the tan cloth. Felicity paused at the CEO’s desk, a one Moira Queen. On the table, there was a picture of a father and son, posing for the camera. Robert and Oliver Queen. Both had died as a result of a boating accident three years earlier. If Felicity had paused to do the math, she would have been shocked to find out that that was the day her soulmark was the day Oliver Queen went missing.

“You’re cute. It’s too bad you’re, you know, dead. Which is obviously a lot worse for you than it is for me.” She didn’t stop herself from muttering. “I really need to learn to stop talking to myself. “ The burning intensified, so much that Felicity couldn’t keep turning a blind eye to it. She ripped of the bandage cover to find her mark a brilliant emerald green, swirling with color.

Oliver knew that that girl, the one that was so cute with her babbling was his soulmate. At least he thought so.

The past three years hadn’t been easy. With so many people dying and on the verge of dying himself every day, he had just been surviving from one day to the next. His arm had changed color so much during that time. From being mostly a brilliant fuchsia, to an almost lilac. The only few times he had seen it the darkest purple was one time when he was 11. It stayed that way for months.

The other time was in Hong Kong, in the middle of a torture session. His arm seared with emotion, his soulmate feeling dark and depressed. Slowly it lightened back to it’s usual bright purple, a color he didn’t particularly like, until the day he spotted a blonde with that same shade decorating her plump lips as she told his picture how cute he was.

Now knowing who she was, he felt fiercely protective of her. He’d met so many nasty people that he didn’t want them to touch her, to get to her through him. So, that night, after killing his sister’s dealer in a fit of anger, he ripped himself a bandage, heated a blade and disfigured his mark, the binary disappearing under mottled flesh. The purple still shown through, but it was distorted enough that only him knew the original design.

Sometimes the bandage would slip, the almost pink color peeking out between the folds. It irritated him and he would viciously re wrap his arm, determined not to see such a color on him.

In Russia, he could get away with it. The heavy coats and the long sleeved shirts hid the fact that he had a soulmate, someone that they could use against him.

He was right to disfigure it. A captain tortured him, wanting to know where Anatoly was hiding, since the captain wanted to take his place. The man was delighted to know that Oliver had a mark, running his knife over the arrow. He sliced through it, making Oliver bleed, and ruining the mark further. He lamented it, which was strange since he had been the one to damage it the first time. But that had been an act of protection, not of the intent to hurt

He survives. He always does. His father instilled that will in him from day one and he has a mission to complete. Starling is dying and it’s up to him to stop it. He will do what he has to.

What he never expected was his soulmate. Which was fitting because she was perfect for him, in every way.

When the vigilante first appeared, and the rumors circulated that he used a traditional bow and arrow, she was impressed, slightly, and mostly condescending. Archery was ridiculous. Felicity suppressed the fact that a thrill went through her; the arrow, a green arrow, was inked into her skin.

The vigilante had to be her soulmate.

A few weeks later, Oliver Queen walked into her office, with horrible cover stories and a green bandage wrapped around his forearm, covering the spot where his mark would be.

A trait that was identical to hers.

When Oliver Queen was arrested for being the vigilante, Felicity’s suspicions were realized and she gained the nerve to confront him. He was throwing a party, one that she could easily sneak into.

As she was invited in the front door, she saw him disappear upstairs. Without thinking, she followed him upstairs, questioning her actions all the way up. Felicity ducked into an alcove when Oliver’s body guard, the man she had seen accompanying Oliver on the news, walked out of the room.

She tiptoed to the half open door and peeked in. Oliver stood there, staring out his window, his back bare of any clothing. The muscles were riddled with scars; whip marks higher up and a nasty burn on his lower back. She blushed when she realized she was staring.

What caught her attention was Oliver unwinding the cloth covering his mark. A purple arrow. She gasped involuntarily. It was identical to hers except the color. Her favorite color.

Suddenly she found pinned to the wall, Oliver’s furious face in her space.

“What are you doing here?” He growled, his fingers digging into her arm. She glanced down at his left arm in response and gasped again. It was destroyed. Felicity reached up and grabbed it, attempting to turn it and look at it full on. The binary was covered with a burn scar and the arrow was bisected with another one.

“What did you do to it! You… you ruined it!” she couldn’t believe it. Did he hate her that much that he would destroy it?

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mark! You–you defaced it!”

“That’s none of your business Felicity.”

She looked into his blue eyes, seeing all his walls up. He let her go, clutching his mark to him, hiding it from her view.

“I think it is.” She said softly, unwrapping her own cover. “You’re my soulmate.” She showed him her mark, the green arrow changing shades rapidly as the emotions filtered across his face.

“I know.” That wasn’t the response she had been expecting.

“Wait, how?!” She had just found out. How did he know that she was his soulmate?

“It’s a long story, Felicity.” He sighed, turning away. “Now leave.”

“No! That’s not an answer and you know it.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.” He snapped. She could see that she was getting to him.

“Why are you pushing me away!? I”m your soulmate!”


That hurt. All her life she hadn’t been wanted, not by her father, not by her friends who had always left. She thought that her soulmate was supposed to be different.

She backed away, head down. “That much is apparent. Why else would you mottle your mark? Ha!” She tried to cover her sob with a laugh. “I’m guessing it has to do with your green secret.”

His head shot up in shock.

“Oh come on, Oliver. It’s not that hard to put together. Your mark is a green arrow. The vigilante showed up just after you came home. You’ve been arrested as the Hood. I’m surprised that–” A knock on the door interrupted her.

“Mr Queen, if you’re entertaining guests upstairs - should I have drinks sent up? “

They both froze. Oliver looked at her, indecision written upon his face. A second later he called out, “No, I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Are you sure?” The man called through the door.

Oliver rolled his eyes, exasperated and went to get rid of the man. A second alter a shot rang out, the bullet hitting a lamp. Oliver and the man tussled, Oliver having the advantage of surprise. Felicity sprang back, dodging the two fighters.

The man got a hold of the gun and turned on the floor, gun pointing at Oliver’s chest. Without thinking, Felicity launched herself at Oliver, pulling him with her as the gun went off. She felt a burning in her side as they fell, her on top of Oliver.

Two more shots rang out, making Felicity flinch. She looked up and saw through hazy vision Detective Lance run in, gun raised. That was the last she remembered before collapsing on top of Oliver.


Oliver sat at the bedside of his soulmate, his elbows resting on his knees,head cradled in his hands. This was his fault. If he had only protected her better, gotten her out of there and not given into the deep longing he had within himself, to be closer to her, she would have been safe. Unhurt. Not lying in this cold, unfeeling hospital room, the smell of disinfectant plaguing his senses.

A movement above him had him shooting up, leaning towards the waking girl. ‘Hey hey hey, you’re alright. Relax. You’re in the hospital.”

Her brow wrinkled in confusion, an expression he found cute.  “Mr. Que–Oliver?”


“What are you doing here? What am I doing here?” How does she not remember what happened?

“What do you remember?”

“I–” Her expression blanked. “Who are you?” She asked him.

He was taken aback. She didn’t remember getting shot. And right now, just after recognizing him she now didn’t. What was going on?


“How do you know my name? Who are you?”

“You just said my name not thirty seconds ago. Do you not remember?”

“Stop asking me that! I don’t… remember. Where’s my mom! Go away! Who are you?”

He grasped her wrists, trying to calm her. “Felicity Smoak.”

She focused on him. “I’m Oliver Queen.”

“But you’re dead. I mean, you drowned. What are you doing here?’

He turned her wrist, showing her the green arrow.

“I’m your soulmate.” He shoved up his sleeve to reveal his purple one.

“But why is it all mottled?” Her innocence was unsettling. Different from the Felicity that had confronted him in his bed room, claiming she knew his secret.

He couldn’t explain. He couldn’t tell her that he had done it to protect her. She wouldn’t understand why. So he repeated what he had already said.

“I didn’t want a soulmate.But now that I’ve met you, I think, that maybe now I do.”

The resulting smile was everything. And his soulmark blazed a bright purple and hers a bright green. And that’s when Oliver realized that every time his arm was that shade, a shade he hadn’t liked, it meant that his soulmate, a brilliantly brave girl, was happy.


imyourplusone  asked:

"But I also think that despite all that, he is developing a strong preference towards one in particular - romantic partner - and we caught a clear glimpse of this when he reacted to Liz’s new look in 301" I read you musings and fanwank which was excellent but I was curious about your last sentence^^^how in tune do you really think Red is with his feelings? I'm always wondering is he in love (I think yes of course), if so is he aware or is he detached from any self awareness. Damn he's an enigma

Oh I think he is aware but my guess is that he isn’t sure what to do about it, so he does what every highly intelligent control freak would with stuff marked “uncertain”: he shelfs it, tries to hide it until it’s figured out. But it’s like hiding a ticking bomb: you can lock it away but when things quiet down, you will still hear the faint ticking and sooner or later you’re gonna have to take it out and deal with it, or get blown to pieces. And Red is slipping up with increased frequency, which is most probably because he suddenly found himself in such close proximity to her. When you are 2 fugitives on the run, sleeping/eating/traveling/dressing/undressing in small spaces + facing/solving/suffering truly dangerous situations together, the intimacy factor is bound to go up and flush out feelings one’s been trying to keep locked away.

Red’s reaction to Liz in “301″ is so unfiltered, so strong and so blatantly obvious. It surprised both of them but with Liz there is a self-devaluing pattern of “I’m nobody, it can’t possibly be about me”, so she quickly assumed it was all about her mother (cf. the way she dismissed Red’s care as a show he put on to get to the Fulcrum - and she was wrong about that one too). But since Red seemed pretty desperate to backpedal and regain some control, he didn’t correct her this time. Then he slipped up again in the container when he found himself confessing something deeply personal to her. His heart eyes display was a sign of sexual attraction and this “ship scene” is a clear sign that there’s also a deep emotional root to that attraction. Now add to all that the way he looks at Liz when she’s telling him about her fantasy and I believe the picture is complete: he’s in love.

But I think her confession also prompts him to take these feelings off the shelf and re-examine them in the specific context of her wish for a normal life, hence his conflict & silence later. This is completely speculative from my part but I think it’s possible Red realizes that even though this crazy, dangerous life on the run will never be truly over for him, it could be over for her if they played their cards right w/ the Cabal, and once they strike a new deal (similar to his old arrangement but with Liz being the beneficiary of being left alone), he will disappear and leave her in peace. (of course this is not just his decision anymore and I’m sure Liz will have something to say about it IF this is what Red is planning to do post-exoneration)