i think i'm going to fix the hair and wing though

anonymous asked:

Heyyyy, your writing is life. I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH! Could you please do wolfstar headcanons where Remus has...werewolfy tendencies? Does that make sense? Like he's dominant and possessive and marky. I'm not making sense.

Thank you!!! <3 And you most definitely make sense yES:

  • Remus doesn’t like people touching Sirius too much
  • Not hand shaking, or back patting, or hair ruffling- just no.
  • Remus doesn’t like it.
  • He has an especially rough time containing this fact
  • So, because of this, Quidditch after-parties (especially ones where Sirius has done rather well in the previous game) are not his thing
  • Because that’s all people jumping on Sirius and hugging him and giving him jokingly sloppy kisses on his cheek and messing up his hair and everything that Remus and Remus only should be allowed to do
  • And he tries to just sit there and ignore it. He tries to just drink his butterbeer and not watch but he can hear it
  • He can hear the “Well done, Black!” and the hand shake and the “Fuck yeah, Sirius!” And the hug
  • And he knows that when they’re in bed together later that night he’ll be able to smell all these other people all over him and he hates that
  • Because Sirius is his
  • And if he’s going to smell like anything other than himself it will be Remus
  • So his grip on his drink slowly gets tighter and his eyes get narrower and the angrier he gets the more heightened his senses become which is not helping
  • The final straw is Angie Rosebow and Caroline Courflush kissing Sirius on each cheek at the same time and no no no those cheeks are not theirs they are Remus’ they have no right he’sminehe’snottheirsstoptouchinghimstopstopstophe’sminestop
  • And the next thing he knows he’s flinging his drink down on the table and grabbing Sirius out of their clutches and pushing him behind him and fucking growling at the two giggling girls
  • They stop their giggling immediately and stare at him in shock
  • “Whoa, Moons, alright there, love?”
  • Remus whirls around and growling out a “you’re mine” through his teeth, low enough for only Sirius to hear
  • Sirius is just as shocked as the two girls behind them are but at the same time all his blood seems to be rushing downwards because Remus is flushed and he’s got a bruising grip on Sirius’ hips and he’s fucking hot and calling Sirius his and he’s so turned on right now
  • “Y-Yeah…”
  • Remus just shoots one more glance at the party and he knows he can’t stand it anymore, “C’mon.”
  • He pulls Sirius up the dorm staircase and into their dorm room. He locks the door and throws some locking and silencing charms up which instantly makes Sirius’ heart beat faster because what is about to happen
  • Before he can think much else he’s being shoved against a wall and Remus is attacking his mouth and tugging at his clothes, “need to get their fucking scents off of you…”
  • And Sirius doesn’t really know what the hell he’s on about but if it involves taking their clothes off he’s all for it.
  • Pretty soon Remus has got all Sirius’ clothes in a pile far away from their bed and he’s just attacking Sirius’ neck and shoulders and Sirius feels his teeth so many times he thinks he’s going to pass out from the sheer intensity of it all
  • “You’re mine, Sirius. Promise me.”
  • Fuck- I’m yours. I’m yours, holy shit, Moons.”
  • He thinks he might have passed out because the next thing he knows, he’s waking up with Remus curled up next to him, much more peaceful
  • He watches Remus sleep for a little bit before he decides he better get up and get ready for classes
  • He walks sleepily into the bathroom, prepared to start brushing his teeth but stops dead in front of the sink when he sees his reflection
  • His shoulders and neck- fuck, his entire torso- his hips even, are positively covered with purple and red marks, ranging from small little nips to full on and rounded bruises roughly the size of a Galleon
  • “Merlin,” Sirius stares at himself in amazement, turning and looking over his shoulder to see more - they trail down his shoulder blades to his wing bones - light, red nail marks are sunk into his skin
  • “God, Remus.” Sirius whispers to himself, “What the- Merlin.”
  • “Morning-” James stops dead in his tracks towards the sinks, his eyes fixed on Sirius. His eyes slowly get wider and wider, “For fucks sake. What did he do to you?”
  • Sirius stutters, “I-”
  • “No. No I don’t want to know-”
  • “Morning.” Comes another, softer voice from the doorway
  • James gives Sirius a little salute and quickly names his exit (”I did not need to see that.”)
  • “Remus!” Sirius gestures wildly to himself, “Wha-” He turns back towards the mirror, “For Merlin’s sake!”
  • Remus just walks up to Sirius and wraps both arms around him from behind, gazing at Sirius in the mirror intensely 
  • It’s then that Sirius notices just how good Remus smells - not like a store bought scent though… like he’s just radiating off… him. His own thick scent that can only be described as Remus and it’s like it’s surrounding them
  • “Remus-?” But the next thing Sirius knows Remus is pressing his nose deep into Sirius’ neck and inhaling.
  • Sirius feels frozen as he feels Remus’ grip tighten, his eyes flutter close for a second before they flash back open as Remus very gently bites over one of Sirius’ already sensitive marks
  • Remus straightens back up with a pleased smile on his face, pressing a kiss to one of the larger marks on Sirius’ shoulder and nodding to himself, “Much better.”


jadepresley  asked:

I can't find the prompt post so I'm just gonna wing it and hope this fits your request for prompts! Drarry OBVIOUSLY + their first Christmas together 🎄💜

It was fun writing this one! Because Drarry and Christmas is  😍 . I love it, and I love you. Thanks for always listening to me whine, even when it’s just a Tim Tam crisis. Please never stop writing far more beautiful smut than me, because the world needs to not be relying on my smut to get by…

*WARNING* There is smut ahead. It’s tame and super fluffy. It’s also short, and pretty badly written, frankly. But it exists. You can skip this one if you want. I warn because I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve Tumblr Smut-ted, even in the vague ‘the cocks are out’ kind of way that this is written.  😉  

Deck the Halls (with Draco’s body)

“You said this was a good idea,” Draco complained, running around and trying to put the last string of lights up, failing miserably because he was casting his sticking charms too quickly. Hermione laughed and sent the charm after him, securing the dangling lights.

“It is a good idea,” she said. “He’s going to love it. You better hurry, though, he’ll be home any second. I heard him land downstairs a moment ago.”

Draco, red and exhausted, hand through his hair and stood in the middle of the living room nervously.  The key to the front door unlocked a moment later, scraping just as it always did, the hinges squeaking painfully. He felt stupid. He could have just fixed the front door as a gift. That would have been less absurd. As soon as Harry entered the room, Draco threw his hands above his head. Feeling absolutely ridiculous, he shouted ‘Surprise!’, making Harry jump.

Harry, recovering quickly, looked all around the flat; he took in the lights, the stockings, the decorations and the table laden with cookies and decorating supplies. The fire crackled loudly in the corner — the fire they never lit because it made the flat too hot. Obviously, someone had cast a shield over it, because the flat was the same temperature as always. He turned to face Draco carefully.
Draco, who wouldn’t meet his eyes and looked about to pass out.

“What did you do to him?” Harry said to Hermione.

“I didn’t do anything, but he does seem to be broken,” Hermione laughed.

“Shut up both of you,” Draco hissed, returning to himself a bit and glaring.

Harry grinned at him with his lopsided grin, and asked, “What is this?”

Draco inhaled carefully and looked at the floor.

“Hermione told me you never had a Christmas with the terrible family,” he started.  “I–I just figured you should get to do all the things that you missed out on, so I bought a real tree so we can decorate it, and there is cookie dough in the fridge, and we can roast marshmallows on the fire and wrap our gifts together, and we can do this tomorrow if you want because I know you’re probably tired, and I’m sorry this is stupid, isn’t it? I blame Granger.”

“You told him I never had Christmas?” Harry asked, looking at Hermione.

“You didn’t.” She shrugged. 

Harry shrugged in return. “I had Christmas at Hogwarts.”

“That’s Hogwarts,” Draco insisted. “Everyone has Christmas at Hogwarts. It’s not the same.”

Harry looked around again as he stepped forward and took off his coat. He carefully surveyed the bright shining twinkling, the fake snow on the windows, the glitter everywhere, inhaled the smell of the fire and the tree. He whirled back around.

“Hermione you’re going to want to leave now,” he said gently.

“What? Why?”

“Well,” Harry inhaled. “I’m going to ravage my boyfriend now, possibly right here in this room. I mean, if that’s something you like to witness, I guess that’s fine. Although, I’ve never thought we had that type of relationship.”

Hermione threw her hands up in defeat and backed out slowly, wishing them a ‘festive celebration’ as she laughed.

“You gave me Christmas,” Harry said, cocking his head to study Draco’s face.

“I mean I know it’s a little silly —” Draco started.

“Draco you gave me Christmas for Christmas,” Harry repeated. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck you right now?”

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but he didn’t have time. Harry was right in front of him, arms everywhere on his body at once, dragging his head back and nipping at his neck.

“I honestly can’t think of any reasons at all,” Draco hummed, inhaling Harry, who smelled of work and cold. He pulled Harry’s face back from his neck to look at him. “Did you mean it? Right here?”

Harry grinned wickedly as he pulled up the hem of his jumper, but by the time it was off his head, he looked a little worried. “I mean, only if you want to,” he said nervously.

“God, yes,” Draco smirked, moving forward to run his hands under Harry’s t-shirt, simultaneously pulling it off and flattening his palms against the warm skin below. He pressed kisses to the skin he exposed, pulling Harry’s trousers down too. It was always his favourite thing to leave Harry exposed and shivering while he was still fully clothed himself. “Though, we don’t exactly have the necessary supplies.”

“Think I can handle that,” Harry declared, flicking a careless wrist toward the bedroom. Draco murmured, incoherently impressed, as a surge of wandless magic washed over him and the lube flew from the cupboard and into Harry’s outstretched hand.

Harry laughed. “Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the expression on your face when I do that,” he teased.

“Don’t think you understand how bloody gorgeous everything feels when you do that,” Draco replied. “And then you always go and ruin it by talking.”

“Shut me up, then,” Harry crooned.

Draco wasted no time doing just that. Christmas lights twinkled in the corner of his eye as he kissed Harry softly. For all his teasing, he was glad Harry seemed to like the decor; this was their first Christmas in the flat, after all. It had been a gamble to make him celebrate before he knew how Harry felt about the holiday.

“You need to make sure no one ever finds out how sentimental you are,” Harry said when they broke apart. “It will completely destroy your reputation.”

Draco sighed happily as Harry pulled his jumper off, undid Draco’s trousers, wasted no time as he lowered them both to the ground.

“You meant like right here, then,” Draco smiled, pulling Harry flush against him, wrapping his legs around him tightly.

“Yes,” Harry nodded, nuzzling Draco’s neck. “But not like this, I want to see everything, the decorations.”

Draco laughed as Harry pulled him to kneeling and forced him to turn around. His knees creaked and he kept giggling, right up until Harry’s hand hit the curve of his arse, slick with lube Draco hadn’t heard him apply. His laugh turned into a murmured yes as Harry’s hand ran down the crack between his cheeks, softly caressing but not really doing much more.

“Whaddya think, D? Can you take me without prep? This is a repeat of this morning, after all,” Harry asked softly, smirking as he tugged on Draco’s hair gently.

Draco growled as his cock finished filling, Harry’s hand still just a soft press of fingers, his words drawing Draco fully hard and ready.

“We’ll never know if we don’t try, will we?” Draco answered a moment later. He had no time to regret his words because Harry chose that moment to line up and push into Draco with a subtle groan. Harry had been right; Draco’s body shifted and adjusted without hesitation, and he grinned at the floor, stretching back into Harry’s grip.

“You good?” Harry gritted, clearly trying to steady himself and stay still. Draco laughed and shifted his hips back, rocking and encouraging Harry.

“Perfect,” Draco hissed. “I’m perfect, Harry. You’re perfect.”

Harry lovingly rubbed Draco’s back as he began to move, reaching forward to twist Draco’s cock in a languid grip. Longevity didn’t seem to be Harry’s goal as he set a speedy pace, shifting Draco’s knees against the carpet in a motion that may be painful later but for now, caused a wonderful friction that he loved. He dropped his elbows to the carpet to push Harry deeper, and it was only moments before he felt himself shift into an even faster rhythm, Harry’s filthy grunting and slapping pushing Draco over the edge quickly. Harry followed, and Draco collapsed quickly, being smothered by Harry’s warm weight and open-mouthed kisses on his shoulders.

A few moments later, Draco flung his arms out across the rug, wincing slightly when the carpet burns on the backs of his arms made contact. He turned to grin at Harry as he asked, “Do you think that this flat knew when we bought it that it would be shamelessly used for indecent purposes, in every single room?”

“Oh my God,” Harry groaned. “Was this the last room?”

Draco nodded and laughed against Harry’s chest as he moved to rest on him.

“I would have just bought a Christmas tree months ago if I’d known it was going to break your prudish ‘we can’t do it in the lounge where anyone can see’ rule,” Draco murmured, kissing Harry on the nipple and making him shudder.

“Not the tree, you git,” Harry yawned. “It’s you.”

Draco turned to watch the fairy lights as they twinkled; he watched the troll ornament from the flea market, the one that that moved around the mantle, shaking its club menacingly. He watched the pixie lights wink, listened to the carols in the background. It made him smile like a little kid.

“A little bit it’s the tree,” Draco said.

Harry smiled, kissing Draco on the nose. “Fine, a little bit it’s the tree.”

anonymous asked:

I'm so glad I found you, I cry tears of joy every time I see stuff about lovely vanderwood they make my life. So if it's not too much trouble could I get some of your headxanons for the RRA and our lovely minor trio having a makeup artist/stylist MC who's constantly fussing over their S/O looks as well as their own war paint and armour when they're feeling down


  • ok babe
  • *cracks knuckles*
  • you are getting out of that hoodie and into something nice. (◕‿◕✿)
  • The first day Yoosung goes to school after letting you work your magic on him, he turns heads. like. literal transformation. everyone is stunned. people at school think a model has come onto the campus. Yoosung sends a selfie to the chatroom and they’re like
  • what
  • what happened.
  • did the glow of love bestow upon you a heavenly complexion and cheek-bone structure or what
  • Yoosung doesn’t know what to do about the attention, because he can’t even think of looking away from you.
  • Sometimes you do Yoosung’s makeup even when all he intends to do is stay inside and play games. He notices that the number of guild-members who want to video-chat with him skyrockets.


  • like, zen already had a makeup artist but you are dedicated, and you go beyond just the normal stuff too
  • One day, you give Zen a deer nose and fawny speckles on his face. Another, you transform him into a fairy. On a third day, you paint scales on him, and oh god jaehee is dying
  • this woman is ur new best friend ok
  • You take photos of your work and your make up + Zen’s face takes off in popularity
  • Seven probably helped admittedly, but the two of you become basically an overnight sensation, and you start dressing Zen up in fun outfits, too.
  • He ends up landing a part as a satyr in a musical, with you doing the costuming. Your creative spirits feed into each other… and it’s both inspiring and terrifying for everyone around you.


  • you’re going to make Jaehee look fierce all day, every day.
  • Whenever you’re in public, the two of you just have a… a look that you share that means, ‘we’re going to the bathroom to freshen up’. 
  • freshening up both means ‘make out a little’ and ‘touch up your makeup’ because it always makes you feel happier and more in control when the both of you are on point.
  • they should put the two of you on magazine covers because d a m n are you the finest ladies in the room.


  • His… appearence? But he pays people for that. He’s fine, isn’t he?
  • jumin. sweetie. no. you look great but ur gonna make him look even better, ok?
  • ok.
  • TBH he, like Jaehee, also gets away from everyone else to redo his makeup and make out with you, but he is far less subtle about it.
  • Sometimes he’ll even purposefully smudge something or spill a drop of something on himself to get you to take care of it in private.
  • Once, when it’s just you and Jumin at home alone, you give him perfect winged eyeliner, and Jumin sends a blurry selfie of himself to the chat with the captain of, ‘Meow’.


  • do you understand what sort of monster you have released.
  • you definitely help Seven with his crossdressing hobby. tbh, you probably crossdress yourself, and the both of you are just the most fabulous pair on the block.
  • Seven loves having you do his make-up because it’s so… intimate and nice. You’re close and touching his face, and he just idly rests his hands on your waist while you do your magic.
  • You go shopping together, try on clothes… Basically just have a total blast.
  • Seven gets really into glittery and shiny eyeshadow. He says it matches his eyes~
  • (you’re smoothing out his lipstick with your finger one day and he just kinda… bites your finger like woah dude omg//////)


  • He doesn’t really……. get it, but he indulges you because you know doing it curbs your anxiety.
  • It feels weird feeling you apply it at first, but it starts becoming a comforting routine. Every morning you style his hair and do his makeup, and you’ll ask him what sort of look you should go for yourself that day.
  • Sometimes he just gives you plain, reasonable answers, but occasionally he’ll spice it up by saying things like, well - why not try electric blue lipstick? Or, something that reminds me of a tiger.
  • It makes you happy to know that V had a hand in influencing your appearance. Whenever you look in the mirror, you think of him and smile.


  • wtf no get those brushes away from his face
  • back off u - …oh you’re just… fixing that stuff he puts under his eye to make him look edgy?
  • well. okay.
  • look, this boy has trash fashion sense, okay? you teach him how to wear leather properly and do the collar thing right. Also, if he wants lashes, he’s going to do it properly.
  • Saeran kind of sulks and grumbles about it - always telling you to make him look cool and tough, not like his dumb brother… but he lets you have your fun.
  • Eventually, though… he starts to kind of melt under your touch, becoming way more calm, complacent, and just… gentle.


  • they are actually hella down for being your canvas.
  • They compliment you on your own appearance one day, and you take them by surprise when you ask if you can make them look nice.
  • they’re not used to… like……….. they’re just….. they’ve never had someone who cared, aside from Seven, but they don’t really trust Seven to not fuck with them.
  • You hum as you apply foundation and put a gloss on their lips, and it’s actually pretty hypnotizing. 
  • When you’re finished, you show them their face in the mirror and they’re like -
  • woah. damn. that’s - that’s me? that’s.
  • holy shit.
  • i look hot.
  • you’re just beaming and bubbling and tell them you’re~ going to do their hair next~ and they’re just like
  • hell yeah whatever you want darling.
  • Seriously, they’ve never been one to state at themselves in a mirror but they can’t help it now. Every store window they pass? Definitely admiring your work (and you beside them lmao)
I'm Impressed [Castiel]

A/N: This is my first time writing for Cas, so it probably isn’t that good. As much as I love him, I think it’s kinda hard to write for him, honestly. He’s just so unique, it’s hard to do his character justice. Ah well, I tried.

Enjoy! And I would love it if you guys talked to me! Message me, shoot me a comment, anything! I need some feedback on my work so I know what to make more of and what to improve! I’ve also had a few requests for more A/B/O stuff, so I’m definitely looking to do some of that! Thanks guys!

Word count: 787

Pairing: Cas X Reader

Genre: Smut-ish (just some stuff leading up to it, not the actual smut itself)

Warnings: Well the genre says it all. Also, reader has a Grace!Kink that is mentioned, but not explicitly described.


His warm lips were all over you, on your neck, across the tops of your breasts, on your own.

And they were so goddamn perfect, it was hard to think when he was kissing you.

A sound against the far wall tears your mouth from his, and he continues kissing down your throat, his hands sliding up your hips.

Nothing looks out of place, strangely enough, and you let your mind return to your angel. Tonight has been a perfect night, and you’re not going to let some pesky rodent in the walls make you paranoid.

“Take this off,” he commands quietly as his lips trailed down the valley between your breasts, halting at your bra.

His blue eyes look up at you, holding your gaze for a moment as you arch your back and unclasp your bra. He never could get the hang of undoing it, no matter how much he practiced the action.

Sure, he could just snap his fingers and your clothes would be gone, but he seemed to like the build-up just as much as you did.

You pull the garment from your chest, watching as his mouth travels across the side of your breast along skin that was once covered in fabric.

Another sound, this one from the opposite wall of the first, makes your gaze shoot to it. This time you see the picture frame of some flower or another move slightly, and your grip around your angel’s back tightens.

“Cas, there’s something in here,” he whisper to him, feeling him stiffen slightly and angle his body over yours.

His gaze lifts and follows yours to the wall, and he looks it over cautiously before turning back to you.

“There’s nothing there, [Y/N],” he says quietly, his ocean gaze watching you expectantly.

“Cas, I-” you cut off as he looks back down to your breasts and smirks slightly, and you hear another sound.

This time your evidence comes in a small vase with a single rose tipping over, landing with a quiet thump on the carpet.

“Cas, something just knocked that down,” you tell him, slipping out from under him to sit upright. Your hand reaches down to your discarded jeans, for the knife you kept on your belt.

“[Y/N], it was nothing,” Cas states once more, and when you look to him, you notice a slight fluster to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. “Trust me.”

“Cas, what did you do?” you ask quietly, watching his gaze dart to the vase. “Cas?”

He clears his throat.

“It was… My wings,” he says in a rough voice, like he’s embarrassed.

“Your wings?” you murmur, looking just past his shoulder, as though you might catch a glimpse of them. You frown and look back to the vase all the way across the room. “They’re that big?”

Unlike the Winchester boys you just recently began to travel with, you had yet to come across many angels in your hunts. They were still a bit of a mystery for you, save for the awkward, blushing one in front of you.

“They grow when an angel desires… Things,” he explains with a sigh. “It is… Other angels may see our wings growing and can know of our desires for them.”

“Wait, so…” you trail off and bite your lip, listening to his flustered expression. “You’re trying to woo me by showing me that your wings are big? Like a bird puffs up for a mate.”

“When you put it like that, it is significantly more mortifying,” he leans back on the bed and looks away, and a smile crosses your lips.

“Cas, I love you so much,” you grin and pull him into a slow, deliberate kiss. “Consider me wooed by your display. Carry on.”

“[Y/N], what are you saying?” he asks as you pulls his tie and fall back to the bed, with him over you.

“I’m saying that I’m impressed,” you tell him in a sultry voice. “Now let’s get this ball rolling, before you knock down anything else and break shit.”

“If it is broken, I may fix it with my grace,” he tells you, and you smirk up at him.

“That’s another thing I like,” you purr, looping your arms around his neck.

“My grace?” he asks, looking at you with a mischievous smirk that you’ve only recently begun to see on his face at times like this.

“Yes, about that. Your wings are so big and you’re so strong,” you rake her fingers through his hair. “But your grace… Mm, I love when you make me come with it.”

“I can do that,” he says and you bite your lip, watching his azure eyes darken.

“Please do.”

anonymous asked:

What style do you think Lucifer's wings would be? I'm thinking of the 3-wing pattern (Cuz he's an archangel) and maybe red with orange patterns? Idk

Aw man, that does sound awesome! I did give Luci wings already: 

All archangels have gold featuring in their wings, probably a mutation to go with their altered genetic makeup

Lucifer has had his (already not that terribly great) trust in humans quite thoroughly decimated. Bought by people who had no idea at all how to handle an angel, let alone an archangel, they put heavy emphasis on discipline and when that didn’t work, increasingly heavy corrective collars.

One of those collars malfunctioned horribly, resulting in severe burn scars on his face, neck and upper chest :(

You’ll notice the red tag on his collar; that indicates he has purposefully attacked a human before and is thus marked ‘dangerous’ and not to be approached.

In a twist that no one saw coming though, he worships the ground Chuck walks on and is very easily handled by the man. He looked like above when Chuck took him in, he’s a bit more grown when Gabe and Cas meet him, though.

Lucifer-meeting-Chuck drabble under the cut! EDIT: I was informed the cut didn’t work for some people, have the entire thing without cut (sorry aah)

Word goes around very quickly, and people are bringing angels to him to get advice on how to handle them. Chuck spends most of his time in a quiet, internal panic because how is this his life, seriously. Angels seem drawn to him, no exceptions and the knowledge on how to approach and soothe them comes naturally. He’s able to fix or improve a lot of strained interaction between angel and owner and he thinks that’s it. Until someone brings in a crate. A crate that’s making these awful, furious snarly noises and rocking with the force of the ire of the occupant. Chuck warily unlatches the crate- while the owner leaves the room in quite a hurry- and a snarling blur lunges out of it immediately.

It halts in its steps the moment it sees Chuck, however. The blur turns out to be a young angel, and Chuck muses dazedly that he’s never seen a six-winged angel before. The white, gold-speckled feathers are spread aggressively, although the wings are beginning to fold down a bit as the angel regards Chuck with the by now familiar look of awe dawning in its ice-blue eyes. “…hi?” Chuck offers up tentatively. He absently wonders why he’s not more apprehensive of the clearly frustrated angel but he’s only feeling calm. The angel hesitates another second before he decisively trots up to Chuck, smiling hesitantly. Chuck allows the angel to latch onto him, a small cooing noise expressing the angel’s contentment as he carefully cards his fingers through sandy-blond hair.

The moment his stunned owner steps into the room however, all that violent energy surges back into the fledgeling, his wings bristling to full width once more as he tries to turn towards his owner with bared teeth. Chuck gently but firmly strokes down the back of the angel’s neck till the angel reluctantly but calmly bends his head forward to Chuck’s chest. Chuck clears his throat while glancing at the petrified owner in the door opening. “I’m keeping him,” the writer informs the other human. “…yep,” comes the faint reply.

And that’s how Chuck ends up with Lucifer.

anonymous asked:

How did Hartwin's first kiss happen?

Harry leaned over his desk, resting his forehead in the palm of his open hand, the other nervously twiddling the lit cigarette dangling between two fingers. The sun had almost gone down, casting pale orange light into the room and onto his face, not that he cared enough to move. Strictly speaking, he shouldn’t even be smoking in here, but hell, he figured, he was Arthur, he could do as he bloody well liked. He stood in a sudden movement, his body seeming to decide to do so before his mind did, and he was walking across to the window, one hand in his pocket, the other bringing the cigarette to his lips.

“Go home, Harry.”

Keep reading

For Mari, who is wonderful. The wrong luggage AU I promised so many weeks ago! And hopefully the first chapter of a longer fic.


After spending what’s felt like days in airport terminals and uncomfortable seats and gut-churning turbulence, Annabeth finally steps off the plane onto solid California ground. It’s nice, after so long sitting, to stand up again and stretch her legs, breathe fresh air. She steps to the side to avoid the rush of people coming from the bridge and turns her phone back on. Her dad will have gotten here an hour early to pick her up. Ever punctual.

Hey Dad, she texts. I just landed. Meet you in the usual spot.

Tugging at her bookbag straps, Annabeth makes her way past a few gates, ready to be done with flying for a while. It’s only eight o’clock, but with the time difference, she feels exhausted. She catches glimpses of the evening sun through the windows of the terminal. It sun feels brighter here than it does in New York, and as she walks, she welcomes the warmth curling through her chest.

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glints in the night, commas and amperands

an: Well. This happened. The Veronica Mars/ Captain Swan fic no one ever asked for. Any dialogue you recognize has been pulled from VMars or Once Upon a Time, and I own none of it. If you haven’t seen Veronica Mars, there is a big chance this will make zero sense to you, but I hope everyone enjoys it.

“I thought our story was epic you know. You and me. Spanning years and continents, lives ruined, bloodshed epic. No one writes songs about the ones that come easy.”

“Emma. I need your help.”

“I don’t… really do that anymore.”

This is how it begins. She’s kept out of the life for almost a decade now, it shouldn’t be that hard for her to say no now.

Only it’s Killian, and just like always, the pull of him is just…too much.

She makes excuses to Walsh as she packs her bag, tells herself she’s going to visit her brother and take that phone call from the law firm and she’s going to find Killian a good lawyer and that will be that. Done.

It’s been nine years, and Emma is over it.

(She’s almost a good enough liar that she believes herself. It was over before it ever began.)


He meets her at the gate and it’s like a little timer goes off - she’s been baking for nine years and here he is in his dress uniform, ready to take her out of the oven.


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