it irritates me that it's off

A Series of Unfortunate Events (For me): Part 2

Recap: I, an aasimar Ranger, got turned into a squirrel, blinded, and hit in the face with a hammer.

Eventually, the party makes it to the queen ant, and proceed to kill it. As we now have the whole nest to deal with, we must make our escape. The bloodrager and I get seperated from the rest of the party, and take another path. We hitch a ride on Lenard, who is now the pet of B.R.

Dm: Okay, you see light ahead of you, and an odd clear stone.

Me: Okay, i’m going to roll appraisal, and probably get a nat one or something… *rolls exactly what i just said*… omfg…

Dm: Its a rock.

(Prologue: We find a shiny black rock and think it is a diamond. Funny story for a later date)

After our grand escape, we head off. The bloodrager somehow gets some jungle animals (panthers or something) to leave us alone. This irritated the dm, who intended that to be an encounter. We make camp, and B.R. has first watch.

Dm: Okay, roll perception.

B.R.: *Rolls high* okay…?

DM: Guess what?

*everyone* Oh no…

DM: Scythe tree!

*after a large amount of fighting, most of us low health, i cut of a branch of the tree, pissing it off.*

Dm: okay, i’m going to roll to hit *rolls high*, and roll for damage, *another high roll*… okay, Ranger, you take 26 damage.

Me:… I just got one shot… by a god damn tree!!

*the tree then dies after i got 1 shot.

TL;DR: My ranger had the worst day of his life. He got turned into a squirrel, blinded, hit in the face with a hammer, thought a diamond was a rock, and one shot by a tree.

awkward-silence-turtle  asked:

Do you think you could write a soulmate au for lafayette/hamilton/laurens/hercules/reader? Something with a happy ending and lots of fluff. Smut is up to you (sorry for so many characters!) Or a bodyguard!Reader/ward!Philip, like, she needs to protect him since he's the secretary of the treasury's kid? Ok, one last idea. SugarDaddy!Hercules/Reader. She's a broke college student and he loves to have someone to take care of. He makes her the most beautiful dresses and spoils her rotten? :-D

I hope this is alright uwu

A soulmate au with the reader and poly!hamilsquad (Al, Herc, John, Laf)

The soul mark is a star, and most people get the whole star instantly as they meet their soulmate, but for some reason, when (Name) meets her soulmate, only one spoke fills in…and it’s the same for him, too.

Enjoy!


Five-Spoked Star (Laf/Herc/Reader/John/Alex)


Your mother says her star mark, the half star that she had had all her life, suddenly formed another half the second she met your father, and the same went for him. Your best friend, Thomas, swears that his star tingled and he could genuinely feel it forming on his skin the instant he met James. Your other best friend, Aaron, admits that his heart was pounding when he met Theodosia. Eliza promises that she got a fluttering feeling in her stomach the moment she laid eyes on Maria. 

If that was the case, why hadn’t your damn star completed fully when you met Alexander Hamilton?

As soon as he walked into the near-enough empty common room, pen in his mouth and piles of books and notebooks encased in his arms, as soon as his gaze locked with yours, as soon as he froze up, hastily placed his writing supplies on an overstuffed armchair and crossed the room to you in mere seconds, work-roughened hands reaching up to cup your face, you felt it. The tingling on your wrist as the black markings pushed their way to the surface, the fluttering feeling in your ribcage, the all-too-loud pounding of your heart. He was familiar, despite you never seeing him before in your life.

In that moment, he kissed you, and although he was a literal stranger, although you had never even laid eyes on him, let alone spoken to him, you let him, kissing back happily because here he is, the guy you’ve been waiting for your whole life! The guy who was made for you! 

When he pulled back, intelligent, beautiful eyes shining as he drank in the sight of you like a man dying of thirst, you couldn’t help but smile back. 

That is, until you noticed the jet-black star on his wrist was not a star. It was…two triangles. Two kites?

You pulled back fully, frowning, and slowly lowered your gaze to your own wrist. The same for you.

As you looked up unsurely, eyes locking with his, you said your first words to your soulmate.

“Why aren’t our stars stars?”

And he had looked down, examining his star with a furrowed brow and his mouth set in a straight line.

“I…don’t know.” He had said. His voice was higher than you thought.

“Are we broken?” You had whispered, voice coming out cracked because how could we be broken already, we’ve only just found each other and he had swiped his thumb over your cheek, catching the tears already beginning to fall as he let out soft sounds of no, no shh, we’re okay, we’re fine, I love you.

And you had sobbed and clung to him like a lifeboat, like he was your lifeboat, because you’d only just met him, only said two sentences to him and for Christ’s sake you didn’t even know his name but you loved him, he was yours, you were his. You were literally made for each other.

In the months that followed, you moved out of your college dorm - who am I kidding, you hadn’t even set foot in it yet, you met him on your very first day - and into his little, college-funded house in town. It was small, but you were deliriously in love and you didn’t even care what your living conditions were as long as you were together.

The second you moved in together, Alexander began research. Of why your stars only had two points, one for you and one for him.

Google had no answers.

Bing even less.

He Skyped with professors and soulmate scientists, vying for an answer.

It all came up blank.

Until one day, a year after you met.

You had just gone to sleep, curling up in Alexander’s hoodie like it was your comfort blanket.

A blinding light awoke you, and you winced into the lightness as you felt Alexander frantically climb into bed with you, pulling you close and peppering your face with kisses.

“Urg…Alex…its two a.m.” You protested sleepily. “We needta…go to sleep…got classes…”

“I’ve cracked it.” He said urgently, lips trailing down your neck.

“Mmm…what’ve you cracked now, baby…?”

“Our stars.”

That woke you up.

“Wha…”

“We’re not broken, (Name)!” His eyes were alight with excitement. “I was reading this article online, and it was about this woman who only had two thirds of a star when she met her soulmate. Her soulmate also only had two thirds.”

“And?” You were fully awake by that point, eyes glittering as he explained the solution.

“She didn’t know why, until she met this other guy at her new job and the rest of her star formed.

You blinked, morning mind fogging over what this meant, until it clicked and your eyes opened wide. “You mean-”

“Two. She had two soulmates, honey.” He held his wrist next to yours and tenderly stroked your mark. “We’ve only got two fifths of a star each, so that means we’ve got three more soulmates to go. Three! That means there’s five of us!”

“Yes, I can do basic maths, baby.” You said wearily. “Five of us? What if your three remaining soulmates are different to mine?  It can happen that someone can have an unrequited soulmate.“ Poor Angelica. Why couldn’t she have been one of your five soulmates, Alex…?

"I…” He paused, pursing his lips. “I don’t know.”

“Well…” You grinned at him. “It’s like before I met you, all over again. Searching for soulmates.”

He laughed. “Sure is.”


You spent literal weeks looking for your remaining soulmates, to no avail. 

Each day you came up empty handed, you grew a little more depressed.

One weekend, your best friend Aaron literally dragged you out of bed, grumbling under his breath.

“Enough with this trying to find your soulmates already. I’m going to take you to have coffee, and we can have a heart to heart.”

He took you to the local cafe, buying you a (favourite drink) and sitting you down. You sighed.

“Alright, alright. What therapeutic methods are you going to try on me now?” You asked with a smirk.

Aaron opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by a loud yell.

“If it ain’t the prodigy!” Called a man’s voice, and three handsome men popped up behind Aaron. As soon as they did-

Oh. There it was, the heart pounding, the fluttering, the tingling. Only much, much stronger. You glanced down at your mark, and grinned as you saw the remainder of the black ink pushing its way to the surface. Your star was complete.

You looked up at the three men who were jesting around with a very irritated Aaron, and frowned. You needed to get their attention.

“Excuse me.” You called. The buff one with short, bandana’d hair glanced at you and held his gaze as he realised who you were. “What do you three, my soulmates, think you’re doing with my best friend?" 

That caught their attention. The other two fixed their eyes on you and gazed, transfixed.

"Oh shit,” said the freckled one, grinning. “We’ve found one, guys.” He walked towards you, grabbing your hand and raising it to his lips.  "John Laurens, at your service.“

The buff one, the one who noticed you first, walked to John’s side and placed a strong-yet-gentle hand on your shoulder.  "Hercules Mulligan.” He said lowly.

“Don’t be scared of him. He’s a teddy bear.” John smiled up at Hercules, leaning slightly into him.

Et je m'appelle Lafayette.” The last one, with a crazy puff of hair in a bun, came to John’s other side and reached for your free hand.

Aaron looked between the four of you, a slow, steady smile crossing his face. “Should'a seen it coming.”

“Oh!” You gasped, causing your three soulmates to jump. “I have to introduce you to Alexander! He’s…the last puzzle piece.”

“Lead the way.”


Alex was, predictably, clacking away on his laptop when you got back. As you stepped in the front door and saw him, back turned, you could see Lafayette, John and Hercules visibly freeze up. You grinned.

“Alex…” You said, voice sweet as sugar.

“Hmmm?” He let out a vague noise of acknowledgement.

“I have some people you need to meet.”

“Ah, um. Honey, can it wait? I’ve really got to do this paper…”

“Baby, you’ve got two weeks to finish that paper and you’re halfway through already. Take a break." When this gets no response, you sigh. "I found them, Alex. They’re right here.”

“Who are?" 

"Our other soulmates.”

Alexander jolts as though your words have pierced him, and spins around in his wheelie chair faster than you can say seven-eight-nine. He gets up as though in a trance, and before you know it you are crushed in a huge, five-way hug.

“Our stars are finished,” He mumbles thickly. “We’re not broken.”

“We’re not.” You agree, sniffling.

The hug is drawn back, and you stand, grinning, between them as they all introduce themselves.

You feel happier than you ever have in your life.


Kinda feel like doing a sequel to this.

I’ll tell you what, if this gets enough reblogs, captioned with something along the lines of ‘Please do a sequel’, I will.

anonymous asked:

I love your Michael hcs so I wanted to ask: how do you think he felt when he first realized Jeremy was ignoring him? (before upgrade)

i mean he sounds more irritated and passive aggressive than anything else during ‘upgrade’ so i’d imagine its at a stage before the heartbreak/genuine hurt settles in.

like he tries to ignore jeremy in return in a passive aggressive action but its not like jeremy could really tell. he’s more angry/bothered abt it than anything else?? like fuck you jeremy where do you get off on ignoring me is this bc i stole the rubber bands for your braces when you were like 12 because uhhhh petty

its less Angst and more just pissed off 16/17 y/o boy before said Angst rolls in as things progress

Jaal x FemRyder

I don’t have a title for this, and probably not going to write any more on it (though I may use the idea for one of my other Ryders; this is totally something my Nell would do). This was written for @elenielwen‘s prompt, requesting a fic where Sara jumps in front of Akksul’s bullet rather than killing him or letting Jaal get shot. Just a very quick one-off, I’d probably rate it PG, just because of the shooting.

Under a cut because it’s a little long (1000-ish words):

Keep reading

tantalum-cobalt  asked:

If you have time / still want to, I'd love to see some fluffy Tim & Damian being brotherly in public. Maybe at a party or some kind of WE event where the media is watching them all closely so they have to play nice? Or the media hassling one of them and the other coming to the rescue?

Turned out kinda less-fluffy than I’d maybe meant it to be—it’s set in a time period wherein they’re still kind of not-good with each other. But hopefully you’ll enjoy. :)


“Tim.”

Bruce’s urgent hiss made Tim snap his head up from the technically-illegal champagne he’d been halfheartedly eyeing all evening in the vague hope that it might make the party slightly more tolerable. His eyes widened; his adopted father’s tie was missing and his shirt collar was askew, and he was about as non-death-related frantic as Tim had ever seen him outside the cowl, so he stuck the champagne flute somewhere behind him onto what he hoped was a table and hurried over to Bruce.

“What is it? Is it a vill—what…” Tim stopped short with a slight gasp now that he was up close. “Is that…lipstick?”

Keep reading

Heartlines Part IV: Lazarus

Summary: Life continued for the Justice League after Y/N’s death, but what happens when a member of the Avengers accidentally breaks their window during a fight? Meet Wicked Chaos, the newest Avenger addition, who distrusts the Justice League for some unknown reason, even for her.

Word Count: 11,634

Pairings: Clark Kent x Reader, Barry Allen x Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: Amnesiac reader, A LITTLE angst, I’m pretty sure there’s swearing somewhere and I think that’s it.

A/N: FINALLY, THE DAY YOU ALL HAVE WAITED, JUST BEFORE 2016 ENDS!!! (In my time zone, so don’t come tell me that’s 2017 already, my computer still marks is 2016, period.) Hope you enjoy it since it’s NOT EDITED, SORRY. Therefore, any typos are on me (so let me know if you find any). 

ANYWAY, HAPPY 2017!!

Part I    Part II  Part III

Originally posted by heyitsalebaexx

Keep reading

Sweaters
  • KageHina
  • Hinata: this is still so funny, our sweaters are exactly the same, but I like yours better, it's softer and much bigger, can I have it?
  • Kageyama: what r u talking about, dumbass? you've been sleeping in it for a week, so shut up and keep it
  • TsukkiYama
  • Tsukishima: yamaguchi you all right? you've been clinging to me like a koala for the past hour
  • Yamaguchi: gomen tsukki, i just love our new matching sweater, we should buy more
  • Tsukishima: *irritated but excited*
  • AsaNoya
  • Asahi: Nishinoya u breathing ok?
  • Noya: *muffled* yeah, i can live under this sweater forever and wet ur pecs to eternity *continues licking*
  • EnnoTana
  • Tanaka: BRING IT UURRRRYYYEEEAAAAHHHHH *takes off and spins the sweater Chikara's knitted for him during snowball fight*
  • Ennoshita: *screams from the window* HEY IDIOTIC BIG GUY PUT THAT DAMN SWEATER ON, I'M NOT GOING TO BABY YOU IF YOU SICK
  • Tanaka: Y-yes babe, sorry
  • DaiSuga
  • Daichi: Sweetheart where is my black sweater? I put it on the couch last night
  • Suga: Maa, sorry Daichi, it got the kids drools and banana puree, so I wash it
  • Daichi: i-it's new...
  • Suga: shouldn't buy new clothes if you still have one year old twins
  • LevYaku
  • Lev: hahahahahaha Yaku-san, I can't even see you under my sweater, you are so small
  • Yaku: *throws dirty laundy at Lev*
  • KuroKen
  • Kuroo: do you think Daichi and Bokuto will roast me for wearing this sweater? i mean it's an ugly Christmas sweater party, but i still want to look good
  • Kenma: *peeking from his phone* does it really matter? not that you look bad or anything, but you will always look beautiful to me
  • Kuroo: Kozume Kenma.... marry me
  • Kenma: we are married
  • BokuAka
  • Bokuto: Akaashi, I keep losing my sweaters for a month now, no matter how ugly they are, someone keep stealing them *convinced that his sweaters are stolen*
  • Akaashi: *pushes all Bokuto's sweaters in his dresser* maybe you left them somewhere and you forgot to take them back?
  • Bokuto: did I? I mean it's possible but it's still weird...
  • Akaashi: (this idiot, he left them at my apartment every time he visited, why i even bother dating this numbskull owl)
  • MatsuHana
  • Mattsun: so like you are suggesting that we should have sex while wearing each other's sweater?
  • Makki: yeah, that'd be hot
  • Mattsun: you certainly spent too much time with Oikawa
  • IwaOi
  • Oikawa: *rolls around in Iwa's bed* Iwa-chan's sweaters just feel right, the arms are a bit short but i like them so much, it's like i could die happy from this fluffy-heavenly feelings
  • Iwaizumi: nice, take them all, i've been thinking about how am i going to kill you for the past 15 years, now that you said this, i can finally kill you smoothly
  • Oikawa: i have never regret making a conversation this much
Baking Soda is the best thing for your face.

If you arent already putting baking soda on your face as a scrub & mask you need to start. You know why bath bombs make you so soft? baking soda. do it right now– put like a table spoon of baking soda in your hand, add a TINY bit of water to make it a paste then scrub it as you usually would scrub. arm & hammer is already super course so adding it to a  washcloth or “face scrubber idk” isnt needed & itll just irritate your face. so leave the mask on till its dry, rinse it off & telll me your face/probem areas isnt soft af. use your fave toner & moisturize 

I Don’t Love You Anymore (pt. 2)

You can find part 1 right here –> I Don’t Love You Anymore Pt. 1

Y/N,

I’m writing this note because I don’t have the balls to say this to your face. The reason I’ve been acting like a douche these past few weeks is because, well, at first, I thought it was just stress but, for awhile now, I haven’t felt anything with you. Each kiss, touch, laugh and word we shared has felt dead to me. I’m sorry y/n, I really am but I just don’t love you anymore. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me.

Cal.

I read the painful words over and over again, each time praying that this is a sick and twisted drawn out April Fools joke he’s playing on me; maybe Mikey put him up to it. But as the minutes pass, I come to the bitter reality that he meant what he said, he doesn’t love me anymore. Is it really a surprise? I mean, all the signs were there. He stopped our morning and nighty-night cuddles, claimed he was sore from working out so much. No longer gave me his warm and soft pecks before he or I left work, it was always, “I really gotta go” or “Go, y/n your gonna be late.” He completely stopped all intimacy between us, and not just physically but mentally, he didn’t talk anymore, nor did he want to listen. So no, it’s not a surprise but it still hurts like hell. I get out the bed and walk over into the closest grabbing another shirt of his and placing it on his side of the bed as I snuggle up next to it and cry myself to sleep.

                                             

Six Weeks Later

I’m in the grocery store humming along to Tim McGraw’s “Shotgun Rider,” while debating if I want salmon or tilapia for dinner when a familiar and comforting voice behind me says, “You’ve always had a beautiful voice, it’s a shame that you never considered putting it to work.” I turn around and none other than Ashton Irwin is standing there giving me his award winning smile walking towards me. “Oh please,” I say dismissing the thought. “I’m serious, y/n, we could’ve used you in our band,” he admits as he gets closer. “Then you’d actually be five seconds of summer,” I joke as he laughs and his smile warms up my day. Gosh, I forgot how perfect he was. He looks good, his hair is cut nice, muscles seeping through his shirt.  “A picture lasts longer babe,” he smirks while finally coming face to face with me. I chuckle softly at his cockiness, “How have you been, Irwin?” I ask sincerely wanting to know how my best friend’s been the past few weeks with the stress of making an album. “Seems like I should be asking you that same question,” he says back and a seriousness falls upon us as I realize what he means. I clear my throat as a shift to the other foot, a little uncomfortable, “I-I’m good. I’ve been fine.” “Really?” he asks not buying it as he senses my whole attitude change. “Yeah I’ve been just focusing on school and wo–

I’m cut off by a sudden warmth that wraps around me and I realize that warmness is coming from Ash. Me and Ashton have always had a great relationship, sometimes I felt he understood me better than Calum, maybe it’s because he’s older. I could always have deep and intellectual conversations with him, something I could never do with Calum. We always understood each other; there were countless long nights of personal thoughts, feelings and blissful moments being shared over Chinese takeout or bowls of ice cream, especially the last weeks before Calum broke up with me.

One Week Before Breakup

“Ash, if I ask you a question, will you be completely honest with me?” I ask as I take a bite of my sesame chicken. “Of course, y/n, you know that. What’s up?” he asks and takes a long swig of his beer. I poke at my chicken, still wondering if I’m a bad girlfriend for even considering this thought, I mean I should trust my boyfriend right? I eat another piece of chicken as I take the beer out his hands and finish it making that my 4th one that night. “Okay, y/n, you only drink this much when we’re celebrating, which we’re not or if somethings really bothering you,” he says pausing the TV. I continue poking at my chicken and Ashton pulls the food off my lap and sets it on the bed side table as he makes me face him. “Y/n, talk to me, love,” he says softly as he lifts my chin forcing me to look in his eyes. “Do you–Is Calum seeing someone else?” I blurt out as tears begin to fill my eyes. The thought of Calum cheating didn’t seem real until I actually said it. “What?!” Ashton gasps, “Why would you think that?”

“Well, we’re growing really distant, ya know? He doesn’t  want to cuddle anymore, doesn’t want kiss or touch me, it takes so much for me just to get him to tell me how his day went, which is only a grumbled out, “fine.” And all that has got me thinking that maybe, there’s someone else,” I admit to him. I can see Ashton getting upset at hearing the way his best friend has been treating me. “I’ll talk him,” is all he says before he reaches his phone. “No! Ash, please don’t. Its only gonna create more problems between us, just stay out if it,” I desperately say as I snatch his phone out his hand. “Well, I’m not gonna let him treat you like shit and let him think its okay,” he snaps back at me reaching for his phone. “Ashton, you can’t talk to him about this!” I scream as I hop off his bed, “Why not Y/N?! What’s the big deal?” he asks. “Tell me Ashton, how would you feel if your girlfriend went talking to Luke, for instance, about problems she’s having with you?” I ask him. “I’d be pissed,” he says immediately. “Exactly,” I say back, “He can’t know I’ve been telling you these things. Especially now, he’s so irritable. Our relationship is at a fragile point and any sort of pressure will crash it,” I admit as I flop back on his bed. His face softens as he whispers, “Sorry, love I know–”

“Is it me?” I interrupt,  “Am I not pretty enough? Is it because I’m always talking about school and the future? Does that scare him? Am I too boring because I’d prefer to stay in than go out and party? Does he not want me?” I ask as the tears fill my eyes again and they freely fall down my face. “Hey, y/n listen to me,” Ashton says softly, “You are a beautiful woman. You are so intelligent, funny and talented. I mean what normal person, double majors in sociology and philosophy while minoring in Spanish and working two jobs, you’re frickin’ superwoman,” he exclaims making me laugh. “And oh my goodness, that gorgeous smile. Y/n you literally walk in a room and it lights up, you make everything brighter. And you know what else?” he asks wiping away the tears from my face. “You have the most beautiful soul. You have a such a great heart y/n, you’re so selfless, my goodness, I love you.” My eyes widen as I feel that he didn’t mean love as in best friends but love as in lovers. We stay like that for a while just staring into each other’s eyes and as each moment passes I realize which love he meant and I realize that maybe I too feel that way. Not once had Calum ever expressed his love for me in the words my best friend just had. “Ash, I-” “Shhh,” he says softly as he brings his hands to the sides of my face. “Ashton, we can’t,” I say bringing my hands to wrap around his “I know. But I can’t stop wondering how different it would all be if I’d seen you first,” he says. “Me too,” I admit. The moment is interrupted when the sound of footsteps snaps us from each other’s trance. We immediately sit on our respective sides of the bed and return to eating our food while watching FRIENDS as Mikey bursts in the room yelling, “I’m bored!”

Currently

We never got a chance to talk about that night seeing as I blamed our confessions of love on too much beer. We always get super mushy with another after a few beers, a reason why Calum never wanted me to drink alone with Ash. Then the next week Calum broke up with me via, sloppy written note and I’ve ignored and avoided all connections to him, including Ashton. However, my best friend who still loves me, is holding me and I finally relax in to him and for the first time in a while, I feel comfort, cared for, loved even, simply through his touch. He tightens his grip on me as I wrap my arms around his torso drinking in his scent and embracing the memories that I shared with him. Ashton has always been the only who could completely comfort me, its almost as if he peers into my soul, finds out what’s hurting and says the right things to heal me. I don’t know how long its been as we stand there enjoying one another presence, I mean I haven’t talked to him in six weeks, despite his constant tries. I sigh as a warming tingly feeling comes over me and I begin to grip on him tighter, almost craving him, which freaks me out as I realize that my best friend, who is also my ex-boyfriend’s best friend is making me feel weird things as I pull away. “I umm, I should go,” I say as I get ready to push my cart. “Y/n, wait,” he says as he softly grabs my arm, “Can we go grab a coffee?” he asks desperately with pleading eyes. “I don’t know about that Ash,” I say despite my mind saying yes. “Y/n, come on, it’s been six weeks. I miss my best friend,” he says. “You still have Mikey, Luke and uhm, Calum” I say looking down. “Yeah, but there’s someone special still missing,” he says as he lifts my chin up to look at him. “Ashton! What’s taking you so…bloody…long…” a voice that I never thought, nor wanted to hear again says. I watch with big eyes as the guy who tore my heart apart comes in to view. “H-hi y/n,” he says.


A/N: Hey beautifuls! I know I promised it would be posted Friday but it’s 11:39pm on the west coast :p and I live in the midwest so, I use both time zones interchangeably  /.\ Anyways, this is part 2, what do yall think? Its okay to message/ask me I promise I don’t bite…hard (was that too corny/played out?) Forreal tho, talk to me! 😊

I Don’t Love You Anymore Pt. 3

‘cause when you walked into the room just then

theatre au collab with @alrightpotter. here’s her part.

a/n: lucie, my love!!! happy birthday!!! i’d want to know you if you reached peak gay or became buffy summers dog or could only eat car tires. i love you badly. id probably give up weetbix for you. have the best day in the world.


Godric’s Post                                                                              8th February 2009

Film: The Wind In the Whomping Willows
Director: Bathilda Bagshot
Plot Summary: 4 friends go for a picnic. Boredom ensues.

I’ve never liked Bathilda Bagshot, and yes this may have been because of an incident at one of my parents’ house parties where she literally hissed at me when I reached for another baked potato, but the point still stands. She continues rely on prolonged dialogue scenes that don’t move the plot along and stretch to the point of absurdity, until the viewer is begging for a change in scene, shot, anything, only to presented with (unbelievably) yet more boredom.  

So put aside whatever resentment you’re harbouring that I just name dropped Bathilda Bagshot and that she used to come to my house, and wallow in how wasted my Friday night was watching this garbage. My personal highlight was the closing credits, because it meant I could at last be free from this endless hell of four people sitting in a wood, talking about sandwiches and grass for two hours straight.

Naturally I imagine some people enjoyed the film, (Bagshot does know her way around a camera, I’ll give her that, the cinematography was flawless.) however dear, cherished, hopefully-subscribed-and-not-reading-this-on-the-free-trial-reader, I must ask: who doesn’t like a little during movie commentary? Before Friday I would have said no one, but after Friday I would have to say no one, with the exception of uptight, haughty gingers.

Rather like Penelope Clearwater’s unfortunate character in The Wind in the Whomping Boredom, I too found myself being falsely accused of a crime I did not commit. In Clearwater’s case (she shines in the film, despite Bagshot’s insistence she be holding a mirror in every scene) it was of stealing the picnic sandwiches. Mine was the slightly more serious charge of ‘injuring’ a fellow reviewer.

I want it stated for the record that no such injury occurred, and that as far as I am aware popcorn is rarely classified as an assault weapon, but I am willing to hear argument on the matter. However I could be wrong because the reviewer in question seemed to genuinely enjoy the Wind In the Whomping Waste of Time, so maybe it wasn’t her eye that should be examined, but her brain.

In summary: this film has done the impossible and been even more tedious than Bagshot’s last effort, A History of the Snake Inside Me, which I didn’t think possible. My nine-year-old criticisms rarely stand up to scrutiny but I think my judgement of Ms Bagshot being The Worst has proven correct. Furthermore, I want it noted for no particular reason at all that if at any point I am contacted by a lawyer about paying medical bills for a non-existent injury, I will do something else ‘ridiculous’ and ‘childlike’ like toilet papering a Certain Reviwers house or broadcasting my witty and hilarious movie commentary over a loudspeaker during each and every film I will ever attend from this point on.

(the editor Remus J. Lupin wishes to clarify for legal reasons that comments above are aimed at no particular individual, all wishes views presented are the writer and the writers views alone, and to please not sue the paper)


Godric’s Post                                                                                  3rd March 2009

Film: 101 Fantastic Beasts
Director: Newt Scamander
Plot Summary: CGI animals have a good time. Audience have a good time.

Scamander has always had a talent for animation, even his questionable films like Beasts Which Are Fantastic If Only We Knew Where To Find Them (nonsensical, long-winded title) and The Porpentina Goldstein Story (thought it was going to be about hedgehogs. It was not.) should be seen purely for their onscreen beauty alone.

Thankfully, 101 Fantastic Beats wasn’t a repeat of the Hedgehog Incident but rather exactly what it says on the tin, 101 Fantastic Beasts romping around the city and having a jolly good time, until one of them dies and the entire world becomes a bleak hell-scape that you are desperate to escape because you can’t stop crying.

Unfortunately my screening experience of this charming film was somewhat hindered by the near constant stream of insults and accusations of ‘eye assault’ from a Certain Reviewer which culminated in said reviewer tipping popcorn that Was Not Hers across The Innocent Victims Lap.

The reviewers in question needn’t have ever spoken again but because a Certain Reviewer had slandered another Wholly Blameless Reviewer in her paper, which the Wholly Blameless Reviewer’s Mother reads, some things had to be sorted out. And those things were trying to get the Certain Reviewer to print a retraction so the Wholly Blameless Reviewers Mother would stop bloody going on about it.  

On top of this Wholly Blameless was mocked mercilessly for showing emotion during what ranks as one of the most heart-breaking scenes of all time, next to such movie moments as the ending of Dead Poets Society and the shooting of Bambi’s mother in Bambi. Obviously a Certain Reviewer needs to borrow a heart so she doesn’t have to poke fun at others for having what she does not: feelings. Wholly Blameless would be happy to lend her some of his, as he’s just good like that and not at all the ‘slice of expired a*shole’ he’d previously been accused of being.

101 Beasts has heart (unlike Certain Reviewer’s) and is appropriate for the whole family excluding twelve year olds, because obviously they’re terrible and you’d never want to take them anywhere anyway, so it’s a win-win.

(The editor wishes to clarify that the writers list of saddest movie moments is flawed because it has left off the Jack death scene from Titanic because the writer thinks ‘Cameron clearly emotionally manipulated the audience’ and ‘there was plenty of room for both of them on that door’ because the writer is an imbecile. The editor cannot believe he is the film critic.)


Godric’s Post                                                                                  11th April 2009

Film: The Cupboard Under The Stairs
Director: Gilderoy Lockhart
Summary: You really don’t want to know.

Gilderoy Lockhart has won two Oscars, and yet every time I watch one of his films I have to forcefully remind myself that it wasn’t shot by a nine-year old with a camcorder who uses their dog as a sound assistant. The dullness of the film will stun and bewilder all who see it, as it defies reason why such a thing should be made.

True Hairy Chins Shouldn’t Be Seen By The Public was wildly funny (despite meaning to be a serious documentary), but aside from that I can’t think of a Lockhart film I’ve ever enjoyed aside from classics like Gadding With Ghouls and Travels With Trolls which hardly look like Lockhart films at all, despite him having directed them.

Cupboard Under The Stairs is so mind-blowing ridiculous, from the wooden dialogue to the extended shots of director and star Lockhart doing mind-numbingly boring tasks while smiling garishly, that when I found myself sitting next to a Certain Reviewer I didn’t even bother to move but rather stayed if only to have something to do. A slight physical fight broke out, and by fight I mean a Certain Reviewer hit me for a comment I made about the twenty second long director credit, so obviously I pinched her, and then before I knew what was happening we had been thrown out.

I don’t want you to think, dear reader who has clicked on this review and therefore pays my rent, that I might have acted unprofessionally by getting thrown out a movie twenty minutes in. I want to clarify: I absolutely acted unprofessionally. There is no ‘might’ about it. But my point still stands: the film was garbage, and that fact that I could tell this from only the first twenty minutes is further evidence of its garbagery.

Now I know at this point you’re all clambering to hear more about the two hours I spent alone with a Certain Reviewer, as for some bizarre reason, you’re all incredibly interested in our relationship built off pure loathing and irritation. Well, prepare yourselves readers, because a Certain Reviewer’s favorite filmmaker is not only Wes Anderson (!! There should be a limit to the amount of pastel on a screen at one point). But she also hasn’t read the best novel of all time, The Great Gatsby, and then told me that that ‘wasn’t that weird’ and asked me to ‘close my mouth’ because ‘its been two minutes’ and its ‘getting weird’.

However she did earn points back by liking Star Wars (if she hadn’t, I may have committed a crime worse than Cupboard Under the Stairs’ acting) and she also noted that Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo + Juliet was her sexual awakening, and I to felt a deep attraction to DiCaprio and still do despite his insistence on growing a beard every few years. She laughed at this, but I think it was a laugh of agreement, so therefore it wasn’t bad.

Cupboard Under the Stairs was one of the worst atrocities committed to film, but a Certain Reviewer agreed that Han shooting first was an important part of his character, so all is not wrong with the world.


Text from James Potter to Sirius Black: do u think i look like leonardo dicaprio

Sirius Black: no

Sirius Black: is this bc evans said she liked him

James Potter: absolutely not


Text from James Potter to Remus Lupin: do i look like leo dicaprio

Remus Lupin: firstly, dont call him leo

Remus Lupin: and secondly, obvsly not

Remus Lupin: no two people have ever looked more different

James Potter: fuck u


Text from James Potter to Peter Pettigrew: do i look like leo dicaprio

Peter Pettigrew: no u look like u have a thing for evans

Peter Pettigrew: sirius told me to say that

Peter Pettigrew: whos evans

James Potter: do u not even read my fuckin column pete

Peter Pettigrew: it costs four pounds a week to subscribe to ur shitty paper i don’t have that kind of money


Godric’s Post                                                                                     3rd May 2009

RED CARPET WATCH

The Godric’s own Sirius Black, gossip columnist extraordinaire, was sent to the Red Carpet premiere of A Streetcar Named the Knightbus and reported back to us on all the hot gossip and glamour of the night.

In what may have been my favorite red-carpet to date, not in the least because Rita Skeeter was thrown out for badgering guests only ten minutes in, but because the greatest thing in the world happened. It was so great in fact, that I managed to look past the colossal injustice of me not being invited to walk the carpet myself, which was clearly a mistake (the editor Remus J Lupin would like to clarify it was not) and have a roaring good night.

May I just clarify that by roaring good night I mean I got absolutely plastered (The editor wishes to state that The Godric does not promote drinking) so the night comes back to me in bits, and from what I can remember everyone looked great. I can’t remember what the film was about, or even if they let me in (editor: they did not.) but even if it wasn’t I’m sure the film was good too. (editor: it was average)

But as I mentioned above, the best thing in the world happened, and that was that The Godric’s very own film critic James Potter got to walk the red carpet. He will tell you this is because his insightful and poignant columns are finally getting the attention they deserve. Any sane person would then loudly talk over him and say the real reason is because he’s become rapidly more popular with the introduction of a Miss Lily Evans, also a film critic, into his weekly reviews. Or, as James calls her, A Certain Reviewer. (editor: for legal reasons the editor must assert that A Certain Reviewer could be any individual and to please not sue the paper for defamation.)

Turns out Miss Evans had a popularity boost as well, because she was also on the red carpet, looking ravishing in a backless teal ballgown, and honestly, readers, it was a sight to see Evans in that dress. Potter obviously thought so to, as he spent the entire night staring. And not subtle staring. Obvious, in-awe, I-can’t-believe-a-person-can-look this-good, staring.

Now, once I’d gotten over the fact that not once in our ten-year friendship had James ever given me that look, I was absolutely thrilled. I had a thirty pound bet going that they’d be together by May and I’d just won, if that look was any indication. (the editor: it was twenty pounds.)

Furthermore, Evans and Potter spent the entire night talking, not even noticing how the cameras had utterly latched on to them despite having no idea who they were, purely based on the looks they were giving each other. It was a sight to behold, seeing two utterly oblivious people in formalwear hold a conversation probably about the merits of dressing gowns (they talk about weird stuff like that) while what felt like the entire world took photos.

Now I’m aware I’m meant to be discussing the gossip and glamour from the whole night and not just two D-list celebrities who happen to both be my friends. But consider this: I do not care. These photos are modern art. Both so clearly have a crush on each other it’s embarrassing. Even Moony would have to agree (the editor: I do.). Anyway, in summary of the night: I bet everyone reading this that they’ll be screwing in a month. Mark my words.

[image: a man in a suit and a woman in a dress, against a while backdrop with A Street Car Named the Knightbus film logo printed across it. Her head is turned towards him, laughing, holding a delicate purse. He is looking at her, mouth parted, like she is the first girl he has ever seen. Something to be looked at just to make sure she didn’t disappear, blown by the wind, like in a dream. A dream girl- except not. A real girl, in a real dress, in a real place. He can’t quite believe it. A hundred camera flashes go in the background.]


Text from Sirius Black to James Potter: so whens the wedding

James Potter: i fuckin hate u


Sirius Black renamed the group james’ got the hots for evans

James Potter: this is cyber bullying

James Potter: im calling netsafe

Remus Lupin renamed the group netsafe cant help the fact that ur in love with evans

James Potter renamed the group stop now

Sirius Black renamed the group not a chance mate


Sirius Black created the Facebook Page Lily Evans and James Potter should get it on

This page received 17,798 likes.


Text from Lily Evans to Sirius Black: im going to fucking maim u. take it down.

Sirius Black: sent a link

Lily Evans: if that’s a link to the fucking page i will cut your balls off

Sirius Black: its not

Sirius Black: on an unrelated note do not click on that link it is a virus I just remembered


Remus Lupin created the Facebook Page Lily Evans and James Potter should get it on part two because lily made us delete the last one

This page received: 21,104 likes.


(don’t forget to check out ellie’s part here)

categorize me; i defy every label

requested

The second you touched down on the foreign soil, you were on guard. That Shadow thing had decided to drop you on the coast of a deserted beach, but why? You spun around, hugging your arms to your shivering body. You weren’t scared in the slightest. Confused, angry but not scared. Most of all you were pissed that the Shadow abducted you from your home and left you on this island to fend for yourself… not that home was much better though.

“And who might you be? This isn’t a place for a girl like you.” A voice sniggered.

You whipped around, met by green eyes and a smile. The smile wasn’t friendly though, it reminded you of a wolf’s snarl as it circled its prey; arrogant and dominant.

“Who am I? Who are you?” You looked around exasperatedly. “And where the hell am I?”

“Tone the attitude down, love. S'not very ladylike.”

Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief, an insulted look crossing your features instantaneously. How did a stranger have the decency to tell you that you weren’t acting ladylike when you had just been stolen from your home and suddenly harassed by some random boy?

You narrowed your eyes, pushing past the boy. “If you won’t tell me where I am then I’m going to figure it out myself.”

You heard him laugh behind you. “You won’t get far without my help. This is my island and you won’t find anything unless I want you to.”


“Are you ready to bow down to submission yet?”

You snorted. “Bow down to submission? Do I look like a dog.”

The boy laid stretched out in a tree branch, one leg propped up and the other dangling from the branch. He watched you with an irritating smile, one you would like to smack off his face.

“I told you,” He tsked. “You won’t find anything —.”

“—Unless you want me to, yeah yeah. You’ve said that a few times now.”

Sitting down on a rock that had managed to rip its way through the Earth, you buried your face in your lap and wrapped your arms around your legs. You felt a body sit beside yours and with one peak you figured it was him.

“I know you’re upset my pet, but I can make it all better if you let me.” His accented voice was like a siren’s song, lovely, warm and inviting but as soon as you let yourself become taken by it, your life would be no more. You sighed.

“Can you at least tell me where I am.” You lifted your head to meet his playful gaze.

“I’ll give you a hint. You’re in the land where Lost Children go to be loved again.”

Your eyes squinted. Lost Boys? Lost Children? “Neverland…? That makes you Peter Pan?”

The boy smirked, one side of his mouth lifting higher than the other and indenting a dimple in his cheek. “Precisely.”

You tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear before he stood up and held his hand out in front of you.

“Let’s go back to camp, it’s going to rain soon.” You purse your mouth and stood next to him, letting his open hand curl into an awkward first between you.

“I’ll just go my own way. When you say the word camp it reminds me of a summer camp where you sit around the fire and roast marshmallows. Not that that doesn’t sound wonderfully fun,” You say with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “But I’m not here to roast marshmallows and sing camp songs.”

Pan tensed his jaw, feeling his teeth grind against each other. With one usual snap of his fingers, Pan always got what he asked for but he oddly liked the defiance act you were putting on. He remembers how Wendy eventually became clay in his hands and she would bend over backwards at anything he said but… not you. Pan could only imagine how strong his ego will feel once he got you the buckle.

“My camp is no where near child’s play but if you really want to live by your own rules, then you have to prove your worthiness to me.”

“I don’t have to prove anything just because you lack to see it. S'not my problem.”

With lightning reflexes he had your jawbone gripped between his thumb and forefinger, the skin becoming hot and subtly numb under his aggressive touch. Anger immediately flood your senses and you tightly gripped his wrist as a warning.

“Prove to me that you can survive on my island without my help then. Show me,” He whispered, hissing the letters.

“…that you can and maybe I would look up to your so called worthiness. Until then you’re nothing but a literal lost girl to me.”

You took his wrist and flung his hand off of your face. “It’s not very gentlemen-like to man handle a woman, Peter Pan.”

The smirk reappeared onto his face and he paced himself a few steps away from you.

“Peter Pan never fails. Gain my respect by proving yourself.”

“You lost my respect by referring to yourself in third person.”

With that, you turned around and started your way blindly through the forest. You frankly didn’t care if you left Pan standing there. The fact that you were dumped on this island without your say makes it your island as much as it was his.


It had been a few days since you had seen that annoying boy and honestly, you weren’t doing that bad. You were able to find food and despite what Pan had said at the time, it had yet to rain. Neverland was beautiful, with fluorescent wild life and creatures you had only ever imagined in dreams. You were still asleep and the sun had yet to rise over the tops of the pines. The colors of the sky above you bled through each other like a painting, creating a dreamy glow throughout the air.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes, rubbing the sleep away from inside of them. The chilly air pinched at your cheeks and created goosebumps down your body, making you sigh. The sigh was stolen by a gasp as an arrow shot past you, missing the top of your shoulder by a hair’s length.

Your eyes whipped towards where it had came from, only to be met by nothing. You leaned backwards and retrieved the arrow, holding it in front of you as a weapon. Pan had never mentioned anything actually dangerous on Neverland, so what the hell was attacking you?

Another one slung past you but this time, missing you completely. You snorted and stood to pick it up. “Can whoever is shooting at me stop? Nice shots by the way.”

You didn’t miss the pain of the third one, flying swiftly and piercing your shin. Though it didn’t make it too far in, your knees buckled and you toppled down, blinking through the tears as you tried to rip the flimsy arrow out. Blood ran down the expanse of your ankle.

“Now this is a site. I didn’t even shoot that hard.”

You knew that voice, you hadn’t heard it in days. Pan. You gritted your teeth as he emerged from the bushes, dropping his bow to the dusty ground.

“Why would you shoot me?” You shrieked, hands shaking. Before Neverland you had never experienced pain like this, the worse being a scratched knee or a sprained wrist.

“I’m trying to get you to prove yourself. I’m tired of you moping around my island. It’s getting quite boring.”

With a shot of adrenaline, you sprang up and pushed Pan into the body of a tree, holding the wooden arrows horizontally against his neck. Pan only smirked in response, even daring to let his hands rest daintily on your waist before you elbowed them away.

“Do you always go around shooting new kids on your island, Pan? Do you think this is funny or something?” You pressed, tightening the arrows against his neck. The wound on your leg groaned as you stood on it but you couldn’t back down now.

“I didn’t even shoot you that hard, silly girl. And if you’re trying to scare me, all you’re doing is amusing me right now.”

“And you’re making me incredibly furious. I am this close to strangling you, I swear.”

“I don’t think you would.” He taunted, raising an eyebrow. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and glared at him, eventually releasing your hold and throwing the arrows onto the ground. No, you wouldn’t hurt this boy  despite him hurting you. You left Pan where he was and went to cut the flimsy material of your hand made tent off, wrapping it around your shin as a makeshift band aid.

“What?” Pan asked. “No slapping, no screaming, no girly fits that I won?”

“No. Unlike you, I wasn’t raised in a jungle where we get back at people by using more violence. Violence isn’t the answer.”

“I see.” Pan nodded, taking slow steps towards you. He kneeled next to you and gently moved your hands away from where they were tying the cloth together. You went to bark at him to move his hands away but his stare stopped you.

“At least let me heal it up. It’s the least I could do, you did prove your worthiness after all.”

You allowed him to use whatever Neverland magic he had within and heal up the bleeding arrow wound. Within seconds it was gone, no trace of pain or blood left behind after the stroke of his hand.

“Better now?“ Pan asked with a gentle voice. He looked almost… kind? Genuine? Concerned?

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Before he could stand back up you threw your balled up fist square into his jaw, making him stumble back for only a millisecond. Shock registered on his face and his hand flew up to where you had punched him.

“That’s for shooting a goddamn arrow at me. I don’t need to prove my worthiness to anyone.”

Though punching him probably hurt your knuckles worse than it hurt his jaw, you stood up and held your hand out.

“What?” You mocked, using his exact tone of voice from earlier. “No girly fits that I won?”

Pan laughed, a genuine boyish laugh and accepted your hand as you helped pull him upwards. You ran your hands down your dusty clothes and sighed.

“Let’s go to your camp. I haven’t eaten a real meal in hours, I’m starving.”

Since then, Pan had never decided to cross you again.

shrug emoji reviews

Apple

jesus fuck that pillow shading. why does apple think light behaves in any conceivable way similar to this. it serves its purpose but i feel like if i look at it too long my eyes will burn out of my skull 2/10 apple fucking lighten up with the airbrush already

Google

this one is n ice!!! i like the simple, flat colors with subtle shading around the elbows and the neckline. the slight head-tilt also helps, as does her absolutely befuddled expression. 7/10 keep on keeping on

Microsoft

this one is just kinda… alright? the expression is weird and the hands are too high… also why do all of the microsoft emojis have ridiculously thick outlines, it looks like a five year old was fucking around in microsoft paint or some other shitty painting software 4/10 like i get its a style thing but if your style sucks you should still change it

Samsung

what the fu8ck is this. what am i looking at. why is the hair a perfect chest nut with a crack in it and an absolutely rectangular viewing window. why does this look like a demonic possessed babushka doll that is going to cut all of my shoelaces whilst i sleep. WHERE ARE ITS FUCKING EL;BOWS ITS NOT SHRUGGING ITS RAISING ITS ARMS UP AND SCREAMING OUT AN ELDRITCH SPELL -1,000,000/10 BURN IT WITH HELLFIRE AND IF THAT DOESN’T WORK NUKE IT FROM ORBIT

Facebook

this looks like a toddler’s pillowy clay-doh sculpture mixed with a gyroid from animal crossing. the eyes are not even the same size and the arms are shaded in such a way that i feel like its reaching out to grab me. 0/10 a complete fucking failure

Twitter

its… kind of good??? the minimalist style is cool and all… but the facial expressions are all weird. is that middle thing her nose? its just a line?? is it her mouth??? what does that make the red dot, a popped zit? does that mean her chin is gigantic? and why are her elbows off screen? somebody else could be raising her arms up in front of her for all we know 5/10 so many questions for twitter rn

Emojipedia

this. this isnt even a shrug. shes throwing her hands in the air in irritation and shaking her head. oh im fucking sorry debrah was your coffee a little too cold? would you like to speak to the manager with your uglyass haircut that looks like a chewed up marker cap glued to the top of your fucking cranium? -5/10 quit staring into my fucking soul

Emoji One

THAT’S!!! FUCKING!!! PERFECT!!! THE WAY HER ARMS ARE TUCKED INTO HER CHEST!!! THE EYES THAT ACTUALLY LOOK LIKE EYES!!! THE EYEBROW RAISE!!! 10/10 THIS EMOJI IS 100% SASS AND I FUCKING LOVE IT

emojidex

EMOJIDEX FUCKING KNOCKED IT OUT OF THE PARK. HOW ARE THERE SO MANY FAILURES FROM EMOJIDEX AND YET EVERY SO OFTEN YOU GET ONE OF THESE FUCKING BRILLIANT THINGS. THE EYEBROW RAISE IS NOT SUBTLE IN THE SLIGHTEST, THE COLOR PALETTE IS SO APPEASING TO THE EYE, THE ARMS THRUST OUTWARD *RADIATE* SARCASM 100/10 EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED IN A SHRUG EMOJI, WHAT A HIGH NOTE TO LEAVE OFF ON

- five -

“There are a million reasons why this shouldn’t work…but there is only one reason why is should…” 


20 weeks

The buzz of my phone woke me up out of a dead sleep, the first decent sleep I had gotten in a full week and with an overly frustrated grumble, I reached over to my nightstand to blindly grab at my phone.

My stare was still blurry, infused with irritation as I blinked out the sleep but it didn’t take me more than a split second before my body was shooting up in my bed. All the air forced its way out of my slackened mouth in a gasp as I froze; my wide eyes glazing over as they read his texts again and again. No, I thought to myself, oh God please no.

Keep reading

today-only-happens-once  asked:

^u^ *waves* Hope you don't mind me sending one in: how about "it's just a cut, really." with Dean and either angst or fluff?

Originally posted by justjensenanddean

“It’s just a cut, really,” Dean growled, swatting your hand away as you tried to dab gauze over the spot above his eyebrow. He was surly and irritable, but you could tell from the line of blood down his face that he’d probably need a couple stitches in it. 

“Knock it off Dean, and let me clean it.” 

“Who asked you to help?” He snapped, swiping the open first aid kit from the table and stomping toward the bathroom, leaving a wake of supplies behind him as they fell from the kit. 

“No one, actually.” You followed behind him, picking up bandaids, packaged gauze, and packets of burn and antibiotic ointment on your way. “But I’m going to help anyway, so sit your ass down on that toilet and let me clean you up.”

He turned and gave you and icy glare, but did as you commanded, sitting on the closed toilet and looking like a small, petulant child. He didn’t say a word, only winced a couple times, as you poured iodine on gauze and cleaned the cut. 

“This is going to need stitches,” you told him, pinching the two sides together and estimating that three would do the trick. 

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” You weren’t sure what had made him so surly, him and Sam had saved Kevin’s mom. That was a good thing. 

As you prepped the needles and thread, making sure you had all you needed, you chanced a question. “What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

“Nothing.” His tone said that was final, but you pushed anyway. 

“Bullshit, what’s wrong?” 

He kept quiet as you continued to work, all except for the minor winces as the the needle pierced his skin and you gently pulled the thread taught to bring the two sides together. 

“We saved her, but have nothing to give back to her but a ghost.” 

The statement came out of nowhere just as you finished and clipped the excess thread from the end. You let it hang in the air, knowing he was far from done, and cleaned up your mess before placing clean gauze over the stitched cut and taping it down. 

“Nothing but a fucking ghost. That’s it. How is that okay, huh? How could she ever forgive me for that? On my watch I…” 

“Dean Winchester, you listen to me,” you said, hands cupping each of his cheeks and forcing him to look up at you. “Kevin’s death is not your fault, not one bit. And you need to stop beating yourself up for it. Mrs. Tran is stronger than you give her credit for, and she’s already forgiven you. At least, ghost or not, she’ll be able to say her goodbyes, get closure when otherwise she wouldn’t be able to.” 

Dean wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you forward, his head on your chest. You held him there, one hand combing through the short hairs on the back of his head and felt the tension ease out of him. 

“What would I do without you?” He asked, his deep voice rumbling through your whole body. 

“You’d be a grumpy, asshole old man,” you said, sarcasm lacing your words, and you felt him smile against you, his arms giving you a small squeeze. If he could smile at a playful jab, everything would be alright. “C’mon, let’s get to bed, we have a long drive tomorrow.” 

“Not gonna argue with that,” he said, standing up, his arms still around you. But instead of looking tired, he smirked down at you just before he swooped down and sealed his lips around yours. 


Still taking prompts for Drabble Sunday 

"You're Not Welcome Here" Bothersome Spirit Banishing Spell

I’ve been having a little trouble with some spirit (or something, I’m not really sure what it was) bothering me. It was knocking things off of tables and counters around me in my home and at work (which was the worst part, because I work with food. I had to throw away a lot of stuff today.) I decided to do something about it when a big ass butcher knife fell off of my kitchen counter while I was a foot away doing dishes. So I made up a little banishing spell. You can do this anywhere, but I did it at my kitchen counter.

Ingredients:
-sage (to burn)
-olive oil
-a large lemon

Tools:
-cinnamon candle or incense
-small bowl
-knife and cutting board

Spell:
First off, cleanse your space. For me, this meant physically cleaning my kitchen and burning some sage. I spent the whole time I was cleaning telling the spirit what I was gonna do. Things like, “Listen, you can’t be here. I’m not afraid of you, but you are pissing me off. So by the end of the night, you won’t be here anymore. You’re going to be out of my life, out of the life of my friends, and far away from my work place.” I was super irritated, so I went off. It helped set my mood, and my intentions, and it let me let off some steam.

Next, light your Cinnamon smelling thing. I used a scented candle. Focus on the strength and protection that it is giving you.

If you haven’t already lit your sage, do it now. Feel the cleansing properties and know in your bones that it will do its job. Once it has burnt out, scrape the ashes into your bowl. Tell (or remind) the spirit that it isn’t welcome in your home or life.

Cut the lemon in half. Squeeze half of the lemon into the bowl. Focus of the purification and cleansing properties. It even smells clean.

Add a small amount of olive oil to the bowl. Watch the lemon juice separate from the olive oil. Remind yourself that this is the essence of what you are doing. Separation.

Hollow out half of the lemon. It doesn’t need to be clean, just have some room in it.

Stir the three ingredients together in the bowl, and pour as much as you can fit into the lemon.

Dispose of the lemon. (You can do this however you want. Bury it. Throw it in the garbage and take the garbage out. I threw that motherfucker off my balcony.)

This should do it. I could feel the change in the air and my cat immediately calmed down and curled up under the kitchen table, so I’m almost positive that it worked.

Congratulate yourself on a spell well done. Drink some water.

I’m following this spell up by making some protective cookies to give my wife and take to my co-workers, just as a backup.

Here you go! Hope you like it :) @hotmesslovesickcrackhead

“Hey guys, where’s Betty?” Jughead asked as he approached their lunch table, that was already occupied by Archie, Veronica, and Kevin. It wasn’t that Jughead was particularly concerned, he knew she had her own things to do but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss her bright smile during his walk to school and her excessive rambling about the case while she sips on the coffee he made her.

“She’s showing a new kid around. Word on the street is he’s pretty hot.” Veronica smirked up at him, tilting her head to the side as if to taunt him. Teasing from Veronica wasn’t new to him and he could let her little jabs slide here and there, but this rumor seemed to set off an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

He couldn’t find any words to coherently reply and instead nodded slowly, before unfolding his lunch and taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Oh my god. Get in there, B!” Veronica grinned, as Jughead’s gaze slowly shifted to the doors to the courtyard. There she was; ponytail bouncing, bright smile spread across her glossy lips and her arm hooked through a tall, brunette, wearing a leather jacket. Okay, so, they may have looked like the ultimate power couple, following the stereotypical trope of good girl and bad boy. But Betty wouldn’t actually go for a guy like that. Right?

Despite no label on their relationship, him and Betty had fallen into a routine. They’d walk to school together every morning, sometimes with Archie, but even then, it wasn’t as if they paid much attention to him. She’d go on about new leads on their Jason case and he’d stare at her, a small smile playing on his lips, nodding along as if he wasn’t so enthralled by her beauty. He’d walk her to most of her classes, she’d bring him extra lunch, they’d spend late nights at the Blue and Gold bonding over nothing and everything. To anyone else, it would seem like they were on their way to a romantic level, but to each other, it was a mix of uncertainty and insecurity.

“Hey guys! This is Adam. Adam, this is Veronica, Archie, Kevin, and Jughead.” Betty smiled as she stood at the edge of the table, her fingers still dangling from the leather clad arm. Everyone nodded as if it was a plausible way to introduce themselves, before Adam and Betty sat beside him.

“So, you guys seem pretty cozy already. Long morning?” Veronica smirked, leaning her elbows forward on the table.

“V, I’m just showing him around.” Betty laughed shortly, shaking her head as she unpacked her lunch. Jughead didn’t miss the faint tinge of pink that spread across her cheekbones. Did she ever blush around him? Maybe he had been misinterpreting their routine for something more when it wasn’t.

“She’s been great. Even convinced me to join the team.” Adam shot a boyish grin in Betty’s direction as she rolled her eyes playfully.

“All I had to say was that I’m a river vixen so you’ll be seeing a lot of me.” Betty tilted her head, as she quirked her eyebrows.

Was Betty flirting with him? He’d never seen Betty flirt with anyone. His irritation was growing by the minute, but it hit its peak, when Adam laughed and threw an arm around Betty.

“That’s great man.” Archie laughed, fist bumping the brunette. Jughead swallowed hard as he finished off his sandwich. Okay, maybe, he was being childish and misinterpreting friendliness for flirting.

“Betty, maybe you should bring him along for River Vixen practice. Just to give him that extra kick.” Veronica teased, winking at the pair. Jughead scoffed, a little louder than expected and looked up to see everyone turned towards him.

“Something the matter Jugster?” Kevin smiled knowingly. It was the first word he uttered all lunch, but it was the most unnecessary.

“No, I just find it funny that his only incentive for joining the football team is to see Betty jumping around in a tiny skirt.” Jughead bit back, his face scrunching into a scowl.

“Jughead.” Betty scolded, her face falling, as he realized he offended her.

“Betts, I didn’t mean it that way.” He replied reaching out to grab her hand.

“No, I get it. Maybe to you, a girl in a tiny skirt isn’t attractive but to some guys, it is. I’m so sorry that you see me as some ditzy blonde who gets to the top through dancing around in a skirt.” Betty pulled her hand away from his and got up, leaving the group behind to stare after her.

“Dude, you really gotta keep your jealousy in check.” Archie was the first to speak as the group stared at him.

“Hey, if you guys are a thing..” Adam started, but Jughead quickly shut him down.

“We’re not.” There was a bitterness in the way he spoke, that he hadn’t even realized was there. He was a complete ass and he knew it.

~

“Betts? Can we talk?” Jughead knocked on the door frame of the Blue and Gold as he found her shuffling papers around. He blew a sigh of relief as he observed that her eyes weren’t red or puffy. Thank god, he didn’t make her cry at least.

“Juggie, I’m just a little confused as to what happened back there. Were you…I don’t know, jealous maybe? Of Adam.” Betty tilted her head in curiosity, her hands rubbing over her jeans in a nervous manner.

Jughead didn’t respond and instead walked over to her, his body dangerously close. He felt her breath slow down as he stared down at her and he internally groaned as she licked her lips.

“Why would I be jealous? We’re just two people who…spend a lot of time together.” He spoke lowly, hoping his nerves didn’t deep through.

“I don’t know. Maybe because you only want me to dance around in a tiny skirt for you?” She bit her lip slyly as a smile found a way to his lips, his gaze trained on her through his eyelashes.

“Maybe.” Was his only response, before he stepped back and walked towards the door. He turned over his shoulder and smirked. “Pop’s?”

Betty regained her posture, her head a little light from their moment, before she nodded and followed him out.

Maybe. Just maybe, he wasn’t so wrong about them after all.

Be Used (Jason Mccann) (Mature)

The slamming door was an usual, afternoon sound that came around whenever Jason Mccann felt angry, annoyed, aggravated or all of the above combined in one.  

The days were getting too stressful; especially with cops sniffing around, making it extremely hard to work for him and the boys. All the unfinished deals, unwanted people being killed, drugs and guns multiplied - this got to the stage, where it was simply too much to carry on an individual’s shoulders.

Y/N knew. She knew very well how emotionally drained her boyfriend was. All the signs of indisposition, both physically and mentally. He looked tired, exhausted. The bags under his eyes, messy hair, obsessed look as he constantly checked up on any news that the gang could bring in. Still, mostly it was the lack of interest he gave her.

Now, it wasn’t about what she wanted, what she needed, even though she was missing himself more than any words could ever describe. Not mentioning sex, what she craved the most was her boyfriend by her side, laughing, talking. The cuddles, the little ‘I love you’s & more. She ached for feeling him being a different Jason, a Jason that was carefree only with her.

Nevertheless, the sex part was what worried her the most. It was normal by now that Mccann was using her body as a getaway whenever he felt like he needs to. And for Y/N it was not a big deal, mainly because she was too disturbed by the fact that the love of her life could just go out and kill someone as an income of outrageous rage.

The shadow of his body has become now visible, as Jason took himself straight to kitchen, not even once looking around. His girlfriend, of good amount of time now, bit on her bottom lip, only imagining the frightening thoughts that were going through his head. The idea of all the demons he was forced to hold back inside made her really upset. And this was everytime she would see him in such condition. Once again, Y/N mentally cursed herself for overthinking the situation and finding her as a victim of it as well.

A deep, shaky sigh has left the plumpy lips of hers. She stood up, fixing her hair and clothes, just like she would be going to some formal meeting that was suppose to bring a crucial earnings. Her toes made their way to the kitchen as silently as it was physically possible, just in case. A muscular, male posture was turned back to her, focused on something below so badly that no recognition was given to an individual that just appeared.

“Jase? Can we talk?” Y/N asked silently, slightly afraid of the reaction she might receive.

This was a reminder of the days when the two were strangers to each other, when Y/N would be too embarrassed to even look at Jason, which only made him smirk and pay attention to the girl who he never thought would play a role in his future life.  

Good couple of seconds has passed, since the silence was broken down by little, non-understandable whimpers.

“Yeah, what is it?” He answered, looking back at her. There was no specific emotion hidden behind the look he was emitting, just like the two ball-shaped things inside of him lost the purpose utterly.

“Um, I-” She started, looking puzzled, just like her mind. Jason raised his eyebrows in confusion, looking at the body of his girlfriend carelessly. This never happened. Usually, he was being so nice, he was always being nice to her, unless they had a misunderstanding. But, even then. So bloody nice.
“I know how you feel. I cannot actually relate, but I understand completely. I know you hate talking about the emotions, that’s exactly why you are having cocaine on our counter, I’m not mad, like I said - I get it.” The sentence finally left her mouth, as Jason slid to the right, covering the illegal image that his girlfriend spotted. “I get it so bad, I am not here to make you talk or cry or complain or whatever. Just, um, let me help you, we both know what will help you, we can do it.” Her head nod, as the speech she gave had a more confident sound half way through.

“No, no way, I told we won’t fuck when I’m this angry.” He said almost instantly, shaking his head. “I’m all good, this baby will make me feel better and we can lay down later and watch you favourite, sappy shit, just give me time, I need that.” He mumbled, ignoring her presence by turning back around, guess it was just easier this way.

“Yes, we will, because you want it and I want it.” She said aggressively, getting annoyed with yet again - no interest she was given. Next thing she knew was her hand grabbing Jason’s one harshly, pulling it, to make him look at her and for once, be serious when it came to the stuff that came out of her mouth.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? Fucking get off my dick!” Jason screamed out in frustration, not because of what Y/N did, but because he was just about to bend over and let the magic powder do its wizardry thing.

“You are so fucking irritating. Don’t you get it? You always fuck me when you feel angry, just because you feel extra angry doesn’t mean I can’t take it. Jason, I’m being for real, this is getting out of hand. I can’t have you slamming the door, breaking things, pretending I’m not here, I can’t do it anymore. I feel like fucking shit, you are all I care about and yet, I cannot help you. If you won’t let me be your therapist, just let me be your fucking slut.” The words came out with such great meaning behind them, showing how the struggle of one person can easily affect his closet ones.

“I don’t wanna use you.” Jason whispered, as soon as Y/N’s hands started to touch him up, scrolling through his chest, down to his pants, as she undid the belt.

The only reason he did not stop her was because of what she said, she made him feel as she is soon about to leave if the things won’t change, and that was not in his control at all. Yes, he was aware of the fact his girlfriend that he loved so dearly didn’t even come across to the thought of hurting him and it was his own, messed up thinking that made him believe in that.

“I want to be used.” She whispered back, as her shaking hands slipped down around his tight. Her chin moved up, looking at the face of the boy she loved, looking for answers. She was just too good to simply start with more without getting the permission, just like he would when he wanted to.

He looked at her with such an empty expression. Was it a yes, was it a
no? Y/N slowly, very slowly, stared going down on him, which made Jason furrow his eyebrows in such shock. As soon as he came into realisation, he grabbed her arm, pulling her little body up.

“If you wanna help me, jack me off. I didn’t have a time to do it myself.” He said firmly, sticking up to a plan he created in his mind. Mentally, he punched himself so hard, as he had a girl he adored trying to suck him off and he just declined.

“But, I-”

“No. You want to be my slut? Fucking be one. Shut the fuck up and do what I tell you to do. I don’t want your fucking cunt or you mouth or whatever, jack me off. Make me cum and then fuck off.” He spat, looking at her with no further feeling, which in some weird way had her turned on. She quickly just nodded, hating herself for the fact she enjoyed it. It was a first mini sexual interactions they had in so long, it felt like forever.

Y/N slipped both her hands slowly inside his boxers, massaging his length that was quick to become harder and harder, out of the total lack of touch he has been receiving recently. She looked down, licking her lips, as the tips of her fingers were making rounded moves on the tip of an impressive member, while the other hand landed on a pair of balls, caressing them intensively.

“Fuck, I’m actually close.” Whimpers hit Y/N’s sight, surprising the both of the two, as Jason was never the one to be at his pick point quickly.

“You’re so fucking big.” The moans came out, which made her boyfriend raise the corners of his lips, forming the smirk that was not welcomed on the handsome face since the start of all of his issues.

“Hurry the fuck up.” He muttered, feeling himself getting hot, as he moved his eyes onto a set of hands, satisfying him.

He regretted not fucking her now. What he would do to her. It’s probably what he wouldn’t do to her - that was a real good question. “Oh my-…Faster, harder, I want you to feel me, I want to feel my sperm landing right on your beautiful, tiny hand. Fuck, and you know what you will do later? Lick it all of so nicely, you will get what every slut is waiting for, is daddy fucking right?” He moaned out, restlessly moving his hips to signalise he needs and demands more.

She did as she was told, stroking his dick, up and down as her fingers pressed more force onto his balls, tugging them. The characteristic sound of moans fulfilled the kitchen, as the hands slipping on Jason’s dick made him ready to release and make himself feel better. He was so in the moment, so vulnerable in such state.

“Daddy, I want all of your cum, I’m so ready. I want you to see me tasting you. P-please.” She sobbed, letting out a moan in desperation, as her panties got soaked more and more with every minute.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” A loud, deep groan hit all the corners of their house as the Jason’s hands tightened on the counter behind him. his head threw back and his body became tremulous, when all the juices left his body, accompanied by his moans. Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the sticky substance on her fingers, slowly taking herself out of dark blue jeans. She waited a minute for Jason to recover and look back. Gently, the tongue was pressed onto fresh skin licking and sucking of all the white cum.

“So fucking hot.” He howled, pressing his thumb on Y/N’s chin, taking the little drop of his sperm left over, as he pressed it against her soft, warm lips. He sighted quietly, annoyed with the fact that he had so much love for this girl. That he loved her and he was tied up to her. That much, that he would happily just let her in. Because, there was a trust the boy had in her.

“You deserve my attention, I will tell you all that bothers me.” He said finally, smiling gently. He now felt bad for the insults and the attitude that somehow covered up the love he was having.

The girl didn’t need apologies to read it from his face. She quickly wrapped her hands around his neck, feeling the sudden relief that both of them really needed at the end. And even through, nothing was going to be easy in any way, she could sleep calmly from now on, knowing she was being a shoulder to cry on.