it just gets used for cross processing

Leaf Sigils Tutorial

A while ago I started using a new technique for making some of my sigils. After streamlining the process, I’ve decided to share it with all of you! So, without further ado:

Step One:

Like many other sigil creation methods, the first step is to create a statement of intent. With leaf sigils this can be as simple or as complex as you would like. I usually write out a short sentence in the present tense that states what I want from the sigil.

Optional: If you have a long sentence, or you just want to get rid of a few letters, I would suggest crossing out repeated letters and/or vowels. This is a method used quite often in sigils. It will make the next few steps much easier.

Step Two: 

Draw a stem for your leaf. This is going to be what you organise everything around. It can be straight, curve, short, long, etc. I usually draw a slightly curving line that is similar to most leaf stems.

Step Three:

Arrange the letters from your statement in step one around the stem. The letters should be touching each other and/or the stem of your leaf. I usually do my best to make both sides of the line mirror each other, but its up to you how you place the letters.

Step Four:

Draw a new stem that looks like the last one. Now try to draw an outline around the stem that follows the outside edges of your letters from the previous step. This might be a bit difficult.

You will probably go through several drafts before you find the one that works best. Try to keep your leaf wide enough that it looks like a leaf you might see on a tree. It’s ok to simplify the edges, what is important is that this leaf represents your original statement.

Congrats! You have now created a leaf style sigil. If you have any questions, please message me or stop by my askbox. Also, feel free to tag me in posts of your leaf sigils. I love to see what others have done using my tutorials.

One aspect of Mormon theology I often think about, and part of this may get into Deep Doctrine (I’m not sure) is the Mormon take on the atonement, how it differs from mainstream Christianity, and what the implications of that change are. 

Here’s the part that is definitely not deep doctrine, but instead just plain old beliefs any Mormon will hold: Jesus didn’t suffer for everyone’s sins on the cross. He suffered humanity’s sin in the Garden of Gethsemane while praying to his father to help him get through the ordeal. Suffering everyone’s sins was so painful and hard that he bled from every pore. But the cross wasn’t part of that process. The crucifixion was just how he died, and what was important about him dying was just that it allowed him to be resurrected (and open up resurrection to the rest of us). How he died was a technicality, and it was a tragic one, but he could have been killed in any way and the result would have been the same.  

Basically, Jesus had two jobs. 

1. Suffer for everyone’s sins, which he did in Gethsemane, and which he did entirely by himself. 

2. Die and resurrect, which could have happened any number of ways, but happened to occur via crucifixion. 

I was well into my teens before I learned this is not how every Christian religion viewed “the Savior’s” sacrifice. (Calling him Jesus is a habit I’ve picked up since leaving the Church. No Mormon would be as cavalier as I am about calling him by his first name). That the reason so many Christian religions carry crosses is because they view the crucifixion as necessary, as the tool through which their sins were washed away. Whereas you’ll never see a cross in a Mormon church because we viewed it as incidental, and also mostly just sad. 

(Adults in church often used to say, “Imagine you’d been sentenced to death and came back and people were honoring you by wearing electric chairs or syringes around their necks - reminding you constantly of the trauma you suffered!” Come to think of it, I wonder if that was my first exposure to ideas similar to triggers). 

Anyway, here’s the part where I’m not sure if this is mainstream theology, or just Deep Doctrine™ that I personally grew up exposed to. But I was always taught that Jesus didn’t just suffer all our sins in Gethsemane. I was always taught that he experienced our whole lives. Every single individual life. That he didn’t just suffer our sins, he suffered every scrape, every broken bone, every insult, and all our joys too. 

Basically, I grew up being told that “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” wasn’t just, you know, metaphor. That it was literal.

Because Jesus is all those people. And he’s you. And he experiences everything, every thought, every feeling, that every person does. That there’s no human experience he can’t immediately understand because he has genuinely experienced all of it. In the Garden he lived all the way through all of our lives at once as each of us. So if you help someone, you’re helping Jesus, because Jesus has lived their life. If you’re insulting someone, you’re insulting Jesus, because he’s lived their life. Jesus is everyone and everyone is Jesus and you are never alone in any experience because Jesus both already has and simultaneously currently is experiencing it as well, though you.

While a deep, and somewhat powerful, and certainly moving theology, it did lead to lots of weird thoughts growing up. 

Like I’d eat a bad pasta, and later on the toilet be thinking “Dear Savior, I am so sorry I ate that pasta. I did not mean to do this to you buddy.”

And when they said Jesus experiences all of our thoughts and feelings as if they were his own, that he has in essence become us and lived our lives, I remember thinking any time I thought a boy was cute “Jesus knows what it’s like to think this boy is cute. Does this make Jesus gay?”

I’d just like to end on the thought that if you accept this doctrine as literal fact, that means it is 100% true that Jesus has been turned on by vore thousands of times. 


pairing: evan hansen x reader

anonymous asked: Can there be a sequel made to Letters?? It was honestly SUCH a good fic and ive fallen in love with your work all together. Seriously!!!

anonymous asked: hey um r u going to do a follow up to letters? if u weren’t going to, can this be a request? like something with the date they were gonna go on or something? idk, but i really love the fic and you byeee

wc: 2913

tw: awkwardness, touching, weed mention.

a/n: fingers crossed this shows up in the tag lmao !! i’m not gonna be linking some stuff this time as an effort to try and experiment with what i can and cannot add to ensure it shows up. i finished this in a day??? what the heck???

masterlist | letters 

Making friends this year was an impossible, unachievable goal to you before school even started. You pushed it off as a fever dream, with no hopes of accomplishing or succeeding. You’d be lucky if you interacted with someone or spoke aloud in class. Yet, in a matter of days, you had succeeded in all of those tasks, and maybe even got a little farther.

You had a date.

And this wasn’t a fake date where two friends went out and one of them misconstrued it as something more while the other pushed it off and toyed with the other’s emotions - it was verbally confirmed, texted about, double, triple, quadruple checked that this was going to be what it was.

That was okay for the both of you, however. It wasn’t awkward or weird to ask such things. You were both very anxious people, who needed constant affirmation and confirmation and more information than necessary before heading into a situation to live through it comfortably. That’s what you get for swapping letters with a practical carbon copy of yourself.

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Just Friends

Summary: You and Adam are friends with benefits until one day he starts ignoring you

Words: 1,277 words

a/n: First time writing a wwe imagine here so I hope you’ll like it!!

There he was, all in his sexy body ignoring you again. This has been going for weeks now. You missed him so much. His touch. His kisses. The way your body felt when you were under his spell for the night.  Five weeks. Five long weeks without him and you didn’t know why. 

 Adam. You were both in a friends with benefits relationship. It just happened one night after all the build up tension and you both decided to not care anymore. Fuck it, as Adam would say. Ever since, he was always at your bed at night but gone in the morning leaving you craving with nothing but his body against you. 

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Is Love Enough (part 2)

Words: 1.6k

Summary: After running from Castiel, he and the Winchesters find you.

Warnings: Nothing really, some angst, mostly fluff

A/N: Master tag list at the end; let me know if you’d like to be added.


You sat on a dusty couch in an old safe house you used to use. It was a run down cabin tucked away deep into the woods; it looked straight out of a horror movie. Definitely not ideal for your current state, but it would do for a few nights.

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anonymous asked:

You know how the Kuron Shiro saw another Shiro before he "escaped"? I'm thinking that was the real Shiro, and after all Slav' s mentions of "It would be better if you had TWO tech arms!" I'm worried they're gonna take his other arm off too. 😢

Well interestingly enough, we do know that Shiro ended up back on the operating table after they amputated his arm. He even says “You took my hand. What more do you want?” Shiro is clearly confused because, as far as he knows, the galra got what they wanted. He’s been turned into a human weapon. But it’s obvious they still had big plans for him, either more tests or modifications. They weren’t finished yet 

And it seems like many of Shiro’s flashbacks line up well with the memories and scenes Koran has. Shiro:


So yeah, I definitely think they were trying to get a hold of Shiro so they could complete his “transformation.” I don’t really think they were going to give him another galra tech arm though?? It could be they were trying to finish cloning him but never got to complete the process. However, I think they had more in mind for Shiro, and the cloning was just like…a side project for insurance. 

Haggar mentions Shiro could’ve been their greatest weapon, and we know that’s only ever used to describe Voltron. And we know they wanted to use Voltron to cross into other realities and get more quintessence. And we know overexposure to quintessence turns your hair white–like what happened to Shiro. So yeah…I think there’s a little more than just some upgrades for Shiro’s arm going on here…and I am very, very worried about him 

anonymous asked:

Sorry, I know I'm being, uhh, pessimistic, but if, and ONLY if, the if I do not wish to actually be, IF we couldn't get to €44k, is that a concrete, absolute NO! to our red-edging? I mean, the book is beautiful nonetheless, but we've come this far 😭😭😭 Anyway, you guys are amazing. I can't thank you enough. Love.

Hi Nonny!

I’m afraid I need to tell you that the 44K€ is definitely the threshold we need to cross in order to afford the edge coloring. It’s a finishing process that (unfortunately for us) has its price.

But we’re still optimistic! It’s “only” 5129€ more and we still got a week left to raise them, so… It’s not totally impossible.

The thing we need to do - and WE ABSOLUTELY NEED YOUR HELP WITH THIS!! - is to make some more noise during the last 7 days of the campaign.

We get a lot of messages from people who have heard about the project just now, so we gotta crank up the volume and talk about Radiance some more: here on Tumblr, on Twitter, on Facebook, on Pinterest, on Reddit, on DeviantArt, on Instagram… EVERYWHERE where Fannibals could be!!

Share the link to the campaign!! Share the awesome content Fannibals have created for the #FuelForRadiance Event!! Tweet to people and magazines that have supported “Hannibal” content in the past like Vulture, Indiewire, Nerdist, Paste Magazine, Cartermatt, Dailydot…

Just help us get the word out there for another 7 days and I’m sure we can get there!!


Originally posted by goddessofinferno

So, I think I figured out what the current root of my issues might be. I have back issues, and have had them since I was a child. I have been to doctors and chiropractors since around 8 or so years old. To say I’m used to being in a certain level of back pain is an understatement. However, there are times when that pain level is up higher than my normal, or hurts in certain areas that don’t normally bother me. Those are the times that I struggle with it to an extent and though I hate to admit it, it impacts my mood to a certain extent, and probably more than I care to admit.

I tell you about that to kind of explain my line of thinking on how I feel currently.

Right now I have a number of worries above my normal day to day level. Honestly, I don’t stress too much about a lot of things. Certain things though add into my normal stress level and that’s where I always seem to stumble. Like with my back issues, there’s a cup. Normally that cup is somewhere between half full and full, which are both fine. Add in a bit more and it runs over, and that’s where I find myself right now. I have no more room to process everything so emotionally and creatively I simply shutdown. I’ve been noticing it recently as my lack of interest in a number of things has dwindled to almost nothing, and I’m talking about things I’m normally quite interested in.

The solution? Time mostly, and reminding myself that an awful lot is out of my control at the moment and I have to just cross those bridges when I get to them. I used to be a bit better at this, but, at least in this case, I’m a little overwhelmed.

I’ll get to where I need to be, as I always do. 

Lessons in the Art of Seduction (1/30)

[My friend @thecuriousfangirl and I came up with this beauty. She posted it on AO3 ( ) and we’ll be writing it together.]

Lance thought Keith was hot. The only problem was actually getting Keith to fall for him.

Slowly but surely, Keith falls for Lance. Lance documents each step in the process, hoping not to make the same mistakes over and over again.



Lance wasn’t going to lie, Keith was hot in that terrifying “I will kill you if you say more than ten words to me” type of way. And sure, Pidge did warn him, but that didn’t stop him from flirting and gaining a black eye in the process.

“I told you so.” said the shorter paladin as they handed Lance an ice pack. “I don’t need ‘I told you so’s, I need Keith to stop being so… unseducable.” Lance put the ice pack on his eye, wincing at the coldness. “Quit being a baby.” Pidge replied, not an ounce of sympathy in her voice, “I warned you Romeo, you’re just not as smooth as you used to be.” “I’m still smooth! I bet that by the end of the week I can get Keith head over heels for me.” Lance puffed out his chest and crossed his arms. “Whatever you say, just don’t come crying to me when you have more than just a black eye.” Pidge shrugged and pressed the ice pack back onto Lance’s eye, earning a squeak out of the tan boy before kicking him out of the kitchen.

Lance paced back to his room, thinking about all the ways he failed to capture Keith’s heart. “He didn’t like my puns.. or my dancing.. or my suggestive dancing.. or any of my attempts to hug him…..” Lance sighed in defeat and sat on his bed. “What if I really can’t seduce him.. Pidge is right, I should give up.” He solemnly picked up his acoustic guitar and began strumming chords. After tuning a few strings, Lance played a small rift, leading into a song as he started singing. He poured his heart and soul into the lyrics, feeling as if they completely summed up what he felt. It wasn’t until he heard Keith clear his throat that he realized he had left his door open.

“So, you play guitar?” Keith awkwardly asked, rubbing the nape of his neck. “You weren’t supposed to hear that!” Lance yelled startled.”I don’t usually play in front of other people,” Lance continued, “So it’s not just you that isn’t supposed to hear it but rather everyone on the ship and…” he trailed off, realizing a little too late that he was rambling.

“Well, uh, you sounded good.” Keith looked away, a slight blush on his cheeks. Lance stared at the other paladin. “Was that a compliment..?” Lance questioned.

“Y-yeah so what! I liked your playing.” Keith slightly glared at Lance, his blush becoming more noticeable. “Listen, I know you don’t like playing in front of others. I’m the same way.”

“You.. you play? What do you play?” Lance perked up, unconsciously leaning closer to Keith. Said boy looked away, quietly muttering, “Trumpet..”

“Keith, my dude, you did not just say you play the trumpet.”

“So what if I did?”

“It’s trumpet.”


“You’re clueless.”

“Whatever,” Keith turned to leave from the doorway, a glint of brass shining from his hands, “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Keith! Keith, my man, my dude. Look I’m sorry but I was just surprised is all. So what can you play?” Lance asked, secretly praying for his answer.

Keith scoffed. “Why should I tell you? You won’t take me seriously because it’s trumpet.”

“I was just impressed, okay! I didn’t mean to be rude..” Lance looked down at his guitar.


“Huh?” Lance looked up. He could have sworn he heard something in Spanish.

“Malagueña. La Malagueña. I know how to play the trumpet part.” Keith fully revealed the brass instrument in his hands.

“Dude! That is my jam! We could go to the training room and play, its soundproof isn’t it?”

After not so inconspicuously jogging down the halls, the two paladins reached the training room. They took a second to catch their breath not saying a word.

Lance played the opening guitar rift, smiling up at Keith and waiting for his entrance.

The majestic sound of a trumpet guitar duet filled the room as the two played their hearts out. Keith glanced at Lance, watching the tan boy’s fingers dance on the neck of the guitar. His face had a relaxed and happy smile on it, and when the two made eye contact a certain paladin with a mullet almost missed a note.

The two musicians didn’t notice the rest of the people in the castle watching them through the doorway. “They need to just get together already,” whispered Hunk, “all their pining is almost painful.”

“Let’s make bets.” Pidge pulled the group away from the room. “Whoever guesses the closest to how long it takes them to get together wins.”

“And what happens to the loser?” Shiro asked, trying not to seem too interested in the bet.

“The person whose guess is the furthest will have to do all, and I mean all, of the chores around the castle.” Pidge smirked and adjusted her glasses. She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote the bet down. “We’ll write down our guesses so that there is no cheating. Allura, Coran, you two get the concept of Earth days, weeks, and months right?”

“I think I’ve gotten the hang of it,” Allura nodded, “I know at least enough to place a bet for this. I say it will take… 2 weeks.”

“On the contrary Princess, I believe it will take only 3 days, considering how close they already are.” Coran proudly twirled his mustache around his finger.

“A month,” was all Pidge said, waiting for everyone’s bets before writing them down.

After some thought, Shiro placed his bet at a week and a half. Hunk couldn’t stop saying he feels bad about betting on his best friend’s relationship, but he still put a bet at a month and a half anyway.

“The bets, in order from lowest to highest are as follows:

Coran- 3 days
Shiro- 1 week and a half
Allura- 2 weeks
Pidge- 1 month
Hunk- 1 month and a half

May the best man, or woman, win.” Pidge folded up the paper and put it in her pocket. One by one, everyone left the two musicians alone in the training room to go plan how to get the two lovebirds together to win the bet.



Request: Could I request 17 with got7 JB?? Please and thank you 😙😙

17) You and your bias get stuck in a storm.

Member: Got7′s JB x Y/N

Type: Fluff? technically…

The rain fell hard on Jaebum’s shoulders as we sprinted to the car. I liked to pretend that I could dodge the droplets as my feet skipped from one piece of pavement to another. In reality, I knew I was just as soaked if not more so, than my counterpart. 

“Yah!” he shouted angrily, pulling helplessly on the handle of the car. “Keys Y/N! Keys!” 

I gasped, running a hand through my dripping hair to see more clearly as I dug through my bag. I knew my keys were in there somewhere. After a few minutes of searching and an eternity’s worth of death glares from JB, my fingers finally hit metal. I fumbled with the key fob, nearly dropping it into the puddle I was standing in and frantically pounded at the unlock button. JB sighed in relief as the handle pulled in his grip and he hopped into the passenger’s seat. I yanked at my own handle on the drivers side and tumbled in as well. 

We sat in silence for a moment, collecting our breaths and respective thoughts. I finally attempted to get a hand through my tangled hair and grumbled to myself. I pushed it out of my direct sight to see JB trying to do the same. 

“Why didn’t you have the keys ready…before we ran out of the shop?” he hissed. He whipped his hair back, sending small droplets to cover the center console. He tugged at his sweater, now matted with rain to his shirt. He gave a few tugs, sending his shirt riding up his stomach as well. I felt my breath catch as bit by bit, he began to reveal his caramel colored skin to me. I squinted, noting his small happy trail traveling up his flat stomach and smirked to myself. 

“Yah, what are you smiling about?” he gasped. “Help me!” 

I nodded, quickly shaking myself from my previous thought as I reached out with shaking fingers. I tugged at the woven fabric, trying to stop myself from glancing down at his skin again. With careful touches, I separated his thin cotton t-shirt from the sweater and helped him launch it over his head and into the back seat. 

“Thanks,” he sighed, tugging down his shirt and giving me a side eye.

“Mhm,” I nodded, averting my eyes and sticking the keys into the ignition. I turned the air on full blast and attempted to dry my body. 

“Uh…” he hummed, cutting his eyes at me again. I followed his gaze, looking down at what I had forgotten was a white t-shirt and my very hot pink bra beneath. 

“Aish,” I groaned, wrapping my arms around my torso and leaning my head against the headrest. 

JB chuckled, running his hands along his arms. He leaned over, clicking the air conditioner to the heat instead and sighed. “Nice color, matches your cheeks.”

I rolled my eyes, still not daring to look at him but through my peripherals. I hadn’t been close with JB very long, but we had a very convoluted relationship. it mostly involved me embarrassing myself in front of him and him picking at me as if he were a schoolyard bully. I had a love/hate relationship with him that we both readily acknowledged. We weren’t friends, but we weren’t dating. We were stuck in a weird sort of in between. 

I leaned forward again, setting my hand on the shifter to launch us into reverse when his hand encased mine, halting any action or actual thought process. 

“Don’t you think we should wait?” he asked. He looked down at our interlaced hands and quickly pulled his hand back as if my skin was covered in toxic waste. “Until the weather slows down? I would like to live to see my next birthday.”

“Contrary to popular belief,” I sighed, looking down at my own hand, wondering what was so unappealing about it. “I am capable of driving in rain.”

“Just like you were capable of getting us inside the vehicle?” he grumbled, crossing his arms and flicking his wet hair back again. It was incredible how he could go from handsome to sexy in mere seconds. Who knew pushing your hair back could make your face shine in a completely different light?

“Yah, why do you keep looking at me like that?” JB groaned. “It’s weird. Quit being weird!”

I began to blush immediately at having been caught and turned away from him once again, rolling my eyes. “Fine Jaebum oppa, I won’t look at you for the remainder of our time together.”

“Suites me fine,” he nodded smugly. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t speak either,” I mumbled sarcastically, crossing my arms and gazing out the window. The rain still poured over my small vehicle. Violent splashes of water continued to hit my glass and I closed my eyes, trying to center my feelings. 

“Alright,” JB chuckled. “Quite being so dramatic, yeah? You’re starting to sound like Jackson.”

“Look,” I sighed, turning my body to face him. 

“I would like to point out, you are both looking and speaking to me currently, two things you claimed you would not-”

“God JB, shut up,” I groaned, launching my lips towards his. My initial goal was, as cliche as it sounded, to shut him up. I couldn’t stand his picking any longer and I wouldn’t take it lying down anymore. The problem came after I realized what I had done and my mouth was flush against his. We both sat still for a moment, unsure of what to do. I kept my eyes locked shut, trying to wish myself out of existence. I was hoping he’d suddenly hear a loud pop and I would disappear, but no such luck. 

After remaining unmoving, JB finally put a little pressure into the kiss, placing a light hand against mine on the center console. I dared to peak an eye open to see both of his closed, immersed in whatever this was. I kissed back, eventually feeling as if my heart were going to fall out of my mouth, and began to back away. I sat back in the drivers seat, my eyes wide, waiting for him to say something. 

“Took you long enough,” he whispered before he even had his eyes open. 

“YAH, IM JAEBUM,” I gasped, looking for the nearest thing to throw at him. “WHAT DO YOU - WHY DO YOU - I”

“Cat got your tongue?” he chuckled, opening his eyes and lifting his brows. “Or was that me?”

“I don’t know how I can simultaneously hate you and be attracted to you!” I whined, slamming my balled fists against the steering wheel. 

“I tend to have that effect on people,” he smiled, watching me carefully. 

“Oh yeah? Great, and by people you mean…?” I grunted. 

“You mostly, but I’ve only been waiting for you to kiss me for about an eternity now, so it was nice that you finally did. I didn’t want to have to pick on you forever,” he said with a wink. 

“So you’re telling me,” I hissed, shivering from my wet clothes that were growing more cold by the moment. “This has been some twisted elementary school style courting tactics this whole time?” 

“Well…I mean if you’re going to be blunt,” he muttered, looking away. 

I sighed, running a hand through my messy hair. “You’re impossible.”

“No, I’m Jaebum,” he said, looking up at me again with a sly grin. 

“Hi Jaebum, I’m desperately trying to find patience with you,” I muttered. 

“That’s a strange name, so long-” he chuckled as I launched myself at him again, this time toppling over the center console and landing square in his lap. I took his face in my hands and kissed him desperately. 

“Please, just shut up,” I whispered, peppering small kisses on his lips. 

He growled against my mouth, pulling at the belt loops of my jeans and situating me to straddle him. “Keep kissing me then.”

Originally posted by itsjaebeom


Out of the Frying Pan (10/?)

“That’s not selfish, Swan,” he said softly. “We sold the cookies I made this afternoon. You make french toast for your son. There’s a distinct difference in our stress-cooking techniques.”

“How many did you sell?” she asked, the interest obvious in her voice. And that did something to how much he wanted again. He should tell her about the expansion and Gold and the deal – explain it all now and then, maybe, tell her he was positive she’d shifted everything in his entire life in the span of a few weeks.

But that probably started creeping close to pushing , so Killian bit back everything he wanted and answered her question. “Five and a half dozen.”

AN: This is an absolutely ridiculous amount of words that I didn’t realize were quite so ridiculous until I decided to put them on the internet. @laurnorder should probably get some kind of medal for reading all of these words. 

Still hanging out on Ao3 and tag’ed up on Tumblr 

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Backseat Anger

Supernatural One Shot

Dean x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Rough Sex, Sex Against the Impala, Sex in the Impala, Fingering, Oral Sex

Word Count: 3,455

Tagging: @npmness (here is your birthday smut and I hope that it is everything that you hope it would be. I like how it turned out), @the-mrs-deanwinchester, @but-deans-back-tho, @hellooo-tricksters

You were practically simmering with anger as you sat in the backseat of the Impala, glaring holes through the back of the head of the eldest Winchester. Sam had given up trying to break the uncomfortable silence miles ago after having his head snapped off by both you and Dean.

Although you couldn’t figure out what the hell Dean was angry for. It wasn’t like you were the one that pushed him out of the way.

The car had barely come to a complete stop before Sam jumped out making up some excuse…anything …just to leave you and Dean alone. He was going to die if he had to endure your angry stare for a second longer than he had too.

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anonymous asked:

So I'm guessing now akira won't be wielding fueguchi anymore out of respect for hinami if she ever fights again? I hope she fights again. I'd be pretty bummed if she doesn't see any action again.

Akira’s quinques were most likely left on Rushima Island, it didn’t look like Seidou picked them up when he carried Akira off so it’s kind of a moot point. I kind of hope somehow it’s still addressed, I think it would do Hinami good if she was able to lay them to rest, have a funeral and mourn them properly. She’s clearly still hurting (understandably). The look on her face whilst hugging Akira speaks for itself

this is just the beginning of the healing process and accepting Akira doesn’t mean she won’t have issues to work through from here on. I’m so looking forward to seeing where her character will go- I love Hinami to bits and pieces and I’ve been waiting for this whole deal between Hina, Akira and Touka to come to the forefront for so long! 

I’m not so sure if Akira will ever cross that line and take up arms against the CCG but if she does, Hirako and the Garden kids still use a quinque so I’m sure they can easily get one for her. But there are other important ways she can contribute if she joins Goat in the future- Akira is a brilliant strategist and is amazing at reading a situation and piecing seemingly unrelated information together. With all these mind games going on with Furuta, I’m sure she’d be a valuable asset. It all depends on Akira and whether she can come to see the world for what it is. 

Major Distraction

Bakushima college AU fic request!

Thanks to @turtleangel94 for requesting this!! I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you like it!

Sorry it took so long but it turned out a lot longer than expected;)

Word Count: 2277

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One of Them

Requested: Dialogue prompt #93: “If you walk out that door, you’re no longer one of us. You’ll be one of them and that means I’ll treat you like one of them.”

“I just wanted to say goodbye. Starting on Tuesday I’ll be working with Crimes Against Children in the Washington field office. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,” she adds. “Leaving is harder than I thought it would be, and I didn’t want that to get in the way of work.” She fiddled with her bag nervously, trying to gauge the reactions of her teammates, all of them gathered in the bullpen. A range of emotions played out on their faces.

“I get it.” Morgan is the first to speak up. “You have to do what’s best for you. But it doesn’t have to be goodbye forever. I mean, we’re friends, right?”

A look of relief crosses her face. “Yes. Absolutely we are. I love all of you, I just can’t keep doing this job without it getting to me.”

Garcia sniffs, trying not to cry. “You’ll stay in touch? We’ll meet up on weekends, and holidays, and you’ll still have us over for movie nights? Because I can’t let you go until you promise that.”

Y/N wraps her up in a hug. “I promise, Penelope.”

It all feels so sudden. Each member of the team processes the information in different ways. Hotch is the only one who seems completely nonplussed by it, but he was the first person she had to tell about the transfer. Rossi and JJ both offer encouraging words, but Reid stands there, bristling with anger, the fury plain on his face.

“So that’s it? You’re just walking away?” He speaks with far more spite than even he was expecting, and everyone turns to stare at him. Perhaps the bitterness seems harsh, but he can’t contain the feeling. It pounds in his ears, rushing in his blood like a drug. Anger is intoxicating, but unlike a substance, he can’t claim not to be responsible for his actions as a result.

There is hurt in her eyes, and a part of him rejoices at that. “I know this is short notice, but-”

“Yeah, you’re right! You’ve been on this team for two years, and you couldn’t tell us about this sooner? Clearly we’re not friends, because you don’t treat a friend this way!”

“Reid,” cautions Hotch. But Reid ignores the warning.

“Honestly, what the hell? This isn’t okay! This is selfish, and this is wrong! And you know it. This is cowardly.”

It’s a verbal slap in the face, and she recoils as if he had hit her. For a moment, he thinks she’s going to respond, but then she thinks better of it. Turns on her heel, and starts towards the doors. There’s just one problem – this conversation isn’t over yet, not for him. With legs far longer than hers, Reid easily catches up to her.

“What do you want?” she demands. “I wasn’t trying  to hurt you!”

“Well guess what, you did! I thought we were close. Y/N, I thought you were my best friend. All that time we spent together, working on cases, going to museums, marathon watching Doctor Who… we’ve stayed over at each other’s apartments. And in spite of all of that, you’re still transferring! And I get it, if you didn’t want everyone to know. But what I don’t understand is how you could keep this from me!” He doesn’t realize he’s begun to yell until it’s too late.

Profilers learn how to recognize emotions. With a single glance he can analyze her expression: lip quivering, hands shaking, tears threating to spill from her eyes. Everything suggests sadness. Sorrow. When she speaks, there is a hint of frustration.

“Look, Spencer, I’m sorry! You are my best friend.” She takes half a step closer, gazing up into his eyes. Willing him to understand her intentions. Damn her intentions. “Spencer, do you remember that night you walked me home from the park? All the streetlights were on, and it started to rain, and I didn’t have an umbrella.

“Of course I remember that night,” he hisses. Remembers it all too clearly. The evening shines in his mind like the imprint of a camera flash when you close your eyes. Recalls with total clarity the smell of the rain, the glow of the lights, the blue dress she wore, the feel of her hand in his. He wishes an eidetic memory had a delete button, so he could forget the more difficult things. “I remember it. And I thought it meant something, but clearly I was wrong. Because the person I was with that night would never treat me like this.”

“I have to go,” she says, her voice falling quiet. Y/N steps towards the door, but he grabs her arm and pulls her back.

“Everyone leaves me like this. Without a real goodbye. Just like Gideon, just like my father. And I’ll never forgive them for leaving like that.” A sharp inhale alerts him to the fact he’s squeezing her arm just a little too tight. “If you walk out those doors, you’re no longer one of us. You’ll be one of them and that means I’ll treat you like one of them. I’ll never forgive you. I’ll never speak to you again. Everything we had ends the moment you walk out that door.”

That’s enough to garner a reaction from her. Y/N whirls around, the sadness replaced by pure anger. “Damn you, Spencer Reid! You don’t understand anything! I thought you would get it, but you’re too focused on yourself to see how anybody else feels!” The tears brimming in her eyes finally spill over, just as she yanks her arm from his grip. The doors are pushed open with as much defiance as she can muster. Two glass gateways to mark before and after. Us and them.

He listens to her footsteps echo on the floor. Watches her stand in the elevator. Just as the elevator closes, when she thinks he can’t see, her face crumples into a sob.

And he doesn’t get it. His emotions are too tangled to sort through anyhow. Why would she transfer like that? Why would she leave? There has been a revolving door, so to speak, of team members over the years. There is always somebody leaving and somebody coming. For some reason, he thought Y/N was different. That she would stay. Stay with the team, stay in his life. He wanted her to stay.

Instead he’s only pushed her further away.

“Spence.” JJ’s voice is an unwelcome sound, interrupting his thoughts with a tone of accusation. “Was that really necessary? To make her cry?”

It reminds him of a child being scolded by their parent, or perhaps a teacher. Jennifer isn’t his mother, and he doesn’t need to be handled like a kid. Even so, like most small children, he can’t seem to explain his actions properly. “She’s leaving,” he mutters. “She didn’t bother to say anything until now.”

JJ crosses her arms, and says nothing. Only looks him over with prying eyes, attempting to discern his thought process. “Did you ever stop to think,” she asks, “why she decided to transfer?”

The question doesn’t make sense. She gave her reasons only minutes ago. The work was getting to her. Too many mutilated bodies, murder victims, psychopaths devoid of any shred of humanity. She needed a change of pace. She needed a fresh start.

“God, for someone with an IQ of 187, you can be really stupid. How do you not see it?”

Reid racks his brain, but can’t seem to understand just what he’s missing. JJ’s exasperation makes no sense to him. Why is she angry at him? Y/N is the one to blame. She’s the one leaving.

JJ pulls him into the corner, lowers her voice so that only he can hear her. “She told me, Spence. She told me about the night you walked her home.”

Caught off guard, he blinks quickly, bites his lip. Nervous habits have a way of slipping out like that. “She – she did?” His voices comes out in an anxious squeak.

Everything about that night.”

He winces. So JJ knows. Knows how he reached for her hand as they navigated crowded streets, and couldn’t seem to let go when it was once again just the two of them on the sidewalk. How it started to rain and he was the only one with an umbrella, so she squeezed close to him. Smiled up at him and put her hand on his arm. How they reached her building and they stood there trapped in some unnameable feeling and unable to look away or pull apart. How finally she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, and when he leaned in her lips found his. For just a brief second, before whispering good night and darting up the steps to her building. How neither of them ever spoke of that moment again. Every now and then, his hand would find hers. On the plane, in the field. He made up excused for the gesture, and she did the same. But they both knew.

He could feel it, and surely she did as well. If she did, why did she go? Why would she leave like this? She’s been his best friend for two years, and recently he has held out hope that perhaps she could become something more. He sees no way for that to happen if she doesn’t even think he deserves to know she’s leaving the BAU. Did she tell JJ simply to make fun of him? Is he the reason she wanted to leave? To get away from him?

“Remember those rules about fraternization?” asks JJ. He nods meekly. “Was this job hard for Y/N? Yes. But she also knows how much it means to you. She would never ask you to risk that.”

In his mind, he sees an equation forming. All of Y/N/s actions compiled into something that can be computed until it makes sense. What JJ is telling him now further muddles the puzzle. Fraternization? Risking his job?

The metaphorical lightbulb goes off as the pieces fall into place. The solution confuses him though. It’s too good, and he has been raised with a great sense of suspicion and skepticism. Good things don’t happen to Doctor Spencer Reid. Good things fall apart in his life.

“Are you saying…?” He stops, too afraid to voice it. To speak it out loud might squander it.

“Y/N is in love with you. That’s why she left the BAU, so you could keep your job and still have a chance to be together.”

“Who else knows?”

“We’re profilers. We’ve all had a hunch. But if it helps, I’m the only one she told about that night.”


He stays at work despite every instinct screaming at him to chase her down. That would be too obvious. Besides, it’s better if he has time to find the right things to say to her. Their relationship means everything to him, and he’s desperate to patch it up.

Once the day is done, he goes straight to her apartment. Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t answer when he knocks, but he knows she’s in there. Remnants of Frozen can be heard from the hallway. When she’s upset, she always watches Disney movies. Says they make her feel better. Y/N subscribes to the belief in the healing powers of those films the way some do chicken noodle soup or green tea. Upon discovering he never watched any, she’s forced him to sit through nearly every Disney – and Pixar – film there is. Frozen is one he finds tolerable.

“Y/N, it’s me. Please, I know you’re inside. I know you’re angry, but please just open the door. I need to talk to you.”

Apparently she has turned off the movie, because the snowman’s singing is cut off abruptly. Waiting in the hall a while longer, his patience is rewarded when the door swings open.

Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she manages to put on a brave face. “What do you want, Spencer?” She’s tired.

“I wanted to apologize.” Y/N raises an eyebrow, skeptical, and leans against the doorframe. Waiting. “Can I come in?” He doesn’t want to do this in the hallway, where everybody can hear them.

She considers this. The decision pulls at her, both possible answers tugging at her heart. Finally, she nods, and he follows her into the apartment gratefully. They settle into armchairs in her living room, both looking a little uncomfortable. Hours he has spent here, always feeling right at home. This is not one of those times. Everything about her body language is hostile, telling him that he is an unwelcome guest in a space that is clearly hers.

“I’m sorry for what I said this morning,” he tells her. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Obviously,” she scoffs. Reid pretends not to hear it.

“I don’t react well to losing people, and I thought you were walking out of my life. You’ve been my best friend for a long time, and I didn’t want that to end. I never stopped to consider why you were transferring. And I’m sorry. But I – uh, I talked to JJ.”

For the first time her façade of indifference falls. “What?”

“She told me why you wanted to leave. Listen, we need to talk about that night. When I walked you home.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she replies. Keeping a safe distance from the topic. “It was a slip in judgment. Whatever JJ told you, she was wrong.”

“You know, I don’t think she was. I know you. You don’t do things like that.” Her judgment is sound, he has always been able to count on her mind to be clear no matter how crazy things get. It’s one of the things he most respects about her. “Maybe this is my fault,” he says. It’s hard to admit, but he knows that if they’re going to fix this, he needs to be vulnerable. Honest with her. “I never mentioned it after that. I didn’t do anything about it. And I should’ve, because that kiss meant something. To me, it meant something.”

For weeks on end he replayed all seven seconds of that kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut. She leaned in. Her lips were soft, her skin smelled like the rain. It was over far too soon. That’s all he has, but it has been enough to sustain him. To feed a small fire of hope still burning in his heart, fueled by desires he’s afraid to speak.

“That kiss meant something to me, and if you feel the same way, then I want to talk about this.” He leans towards her slightly, willing her to meet his eyes. “Let me ask you this – how do you feel about me?”

And then he braces himself for her response.

To say he wants her to answer positively would be an understatement. He needs it more than anything, has to know that what he’s been feeling all this time is reciprocated. It’s one thing if they’ve both been denying it, it’s another if he’s been denying something that isn’t there.

She takes a deep breath and lets her eyes wander up to the ceiling. “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, even though we’ve only worked together for two years. I feel like you’re my best friend, and the person I can go to with anything. Right now, I feel angry with you, but that night I felt like I wanted to kiss you.”

“How do you feel about me?” he prompts once more. Hoping and praying for the answer he needs.

Y/N almost whispers the words, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. “I love you. I love you, Spencer.” His heart soars, and he can’t contain the grin that spreads across his face. There are some physical reactions you simply can’t control; elation is one of them. She turns to him now. “How do you feel about me?”

He feels like maybe it’s worth believing in soulmates. Feels like he’s flying and falling all at once. Feels like she’s the most remarkable thing in his life. Feels like finally, finally something good is happening to him.

None of these things does he voice out loud. At times like this, words aren’t enough, not when he’s hurt her with them already. Reid stands, crosses the short distance to where she sits, and kisses her. Kisses her the way he has wanted to ever since that night, cupping her face in his hands and completely losing himself in the act.

When they pull away, breathless, he knows that what he feels isn’t going away any time soon.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I’m sorry for what I said today. I could never go without speaking to you, and I want you in my life. Y/N, I love you too. And I want to make this work, if you feel the same way.”

The seconds of silence that followed were stifling.

“What you said hurt,” she replied. He held his breath. “But I left because I wanted to try and make this work. I know I won’t technically be one of the team anymore, but all of you are very important to me. I don’t ever want that to change.”

“You’ll always be one of us. Always.” A tiny small graced her features. “So, is that a yes?”

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his once more. “What do you think?” she laughed.

Bring it!

Andrew Biersack x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence

“Let’s go!” you gasp, darting forward along the sidewalk. Andy laughs before taking off after you, and the two of you run down the suburban streets of L.A., heading toward the house party one of your old friends were throwing.

It was gonna be a helluva night.

Keep reading

Can’t Help Falling In Love

Pairing: Dean x Reader 

Summary: Dean doesn’t like to dance, and he doesn’t want to be forced to do it. Reader loves to dance, and she would dance for the world if she could. Reader and Dean get into a fight that could possibly lead Dean to doing something he thought he’d never do…

Warning: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, swearing, a little of smut (first time writing so bear with me)

Words: 3,175

A/N: I have no idea if I’m happy with how this turned out but fuck it


You had spent the last two weeks in Oklahoma City hunting down three creatures; a shape shifter, a vampire and a djinn. The three turned out to be working together, which made it an odd hunt for you. It seemed as if the shape shifter was using the appearance of the two victims’ lovers to lead them to the run down warehouse. From then on, the djinn gave them a single touch, pulling them into a reality-altering hallucination, leaving the vampire to drain their blood day by day, bit by bit.

To say you were exhausted was an understatement.

All you wanted to do was stop at a motel and sleep the exhaustion off, but you didn’t have the time to sleep. You wanted so badly to get to Lebanon and spend your planned week with the man you had been love in with for the past seven years. Within four hours, it’d be the marked date of the third year anniversary since the two of you had gotten together – and you both planned to put hunting aside for the week and spend it together.

It was already one in the morning by the time you had reached the bunker, quietly grabbing your bags and heading inside. By the silence throughout the bunker, you knew both Sam and Dean were asleep. You made your way silently to Dean’s room, opening the door slowly before squeezing your way through. Dropping your bags on the floor, you removed your boots and took off your clothes. You were thankful that you had showered when you left 19 hours ago to remove the stench of blood – thankful that you still smelled of the rose scented body wash.

You made your way to his bed, lifting the sheets and slipping in beside him. He stirred a little from the movement, but instantly fell right back into his slumber. You inched closer to him and wrapped your arm around his waist, pressing your bare chest against his bare back. Placing a gentle kiss to his shoulder blade, you soon fell asleep with your head against his back.

You had pleasantly woken up to the view of Dean between your legs and his eyes glued to your face. You were pulled out of your sleep by the wonders of his tongue and the bruising touch clamped to your hips. Both hands were urging your hips to stay on the bed, teasing you with a slow pace his tongue was working at. Many pleading whimpers left your mouth, in hopes he’d cave in and give you the release you had been craving for the past month.

His tongue flickered over your clit, just barely touching you. An impatient groan left your lips as you reached down and pulled at his hair. A quiet chuckle left his mouth before running his tongue over the sensitive spot he knew too well, causing a moan to leave yours. Clamping his lips to the sensitive area, he sucked and licked and grazed his teeth ever so gently. Your hips jerked into his hands, throwing your head back against the pillow.

The ache you had felt with his teasing soon turned into a pulsing throb from the actions his tongue made. Your eyes couldn’t stay open from the pleasure he was giving you, blocking the sight of Dean and his mouth working wonders on your cunt.

“Fuck,” you cried out as his tongue created patterns against your pulsing cunt.

Your moans pitched higher, his hands leaving your hips, freeing your hips to jerk and grind against his face. With the moans leaving his mouth, the vibrations were almost too much to bear. Your toes curled at the sensation, your fingers tugging at his hair. Your stomach clenched as the orgasm ripped through you, your body trembling as crashing waves of pleasure washed over your body, leaving you weakened and in bliss.

Dean never took his mouth away, not until your tremors eased and you were clean of any leaked juices. After that, he crawled back up your body and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. A satisfied hum left your mouth, a lazy smile on both your faces.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he mumbled, lying down beside you and pulling you close to his warm body.

“Morning, sunshine,” you looked up at him in awe, still amazed at how handsome he looked in the mornings. When you first slept with Dean, you expected to wake up to him being as unattractive as you were in the mornings, but you were proven wrong. Even with sleep in his eyes and a drowsy look on his face, he still managed to look sexier than ever.

He chuckled softly, “well, that was my breakfast,” before placing another kiss to your temple.

With all the energy left in your body, you pushed him to lie on his back. A smirk was evident on your face as you slid down his body to his hard cock.

“I haven’t had mine yet.”

You spent the morning fooling around in bed and whispering sweet nothings to one another. You both could’ve spent longer if it weren’t for your stomach growling in hunger. The both of you got up and put on pieces of clothing – yours consisting of just underwear and one of his shirts, his consisting of black sweatpants. You pleaded for him to remain shirtless for the rest of the day.

When you reached the kitchen, Sam was there making himself a salad. He grinned instantly when he seen you walk in and quickly rushed to give you the greatest bear hugs. You laughed when he lifted you up in the air and spun your around.

“Oh Sammy,” you giggled, clinging tightly to him as he spun you, “I missed you.”

And it was true. You and Sam grew exceptionally close during the period Dean went to purgatory two years before you got together. You both supported one another during the loss of Dean, and immediately became closer friends – basically best friends. You told him every single thing about you, and he did the same with you.

“I missed you too, Y/N/N,” he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck before eventually letting you go, “when did you get here? How have you been? Why haven’t you contacted us all week?”

“First of all, I got here just after midnight,” you watched him finish preparing his salad as you sat down at the table, crossing your legs in the process, “second of all, I have been really great, exhausted as hell, but fucking amazing.”

“Alright, now the last question?” He pushed, earning an audible sigh from you, “tough case?”

“That and it was confusing,” you mumbled, “enough about work though, how have you been?”

He smiled politely at you, grabbing a fork and sitting in front of you at the table. You glanced over at Dean to see him preparing a meal for the both of you, giggling when he accidently walked into the corner of the counter, earning a grunt from him.

“I’ve been good, actually. Taking it easier with hunting,” he replied, shoving a mouthful of salad in his mouth.

You smiled in reply, reaching over and taking a piece of lettuce from his bowl to eat. The strong taste of balsamic vinegar danced across your taste buds, causing your mouth to drool at the taste. Before you got close to Sam, you had hated salads. In fact, anything that was remotely healthy you would throw in the bin in an instance. But during that period, he made you salads and ended up getting you to enjoy it once in a while.

“You need to make me some tonight,” you pointed at his salad and grinned.

He chuckled and nodded, looking over at his brother. You gaze followed his as you both watched Dean make what looked to be bacon and eggs. You were about to remind him to flip your egg, but he did the action before you could even open your mouth. It always seemed to amaze you at how well he knew you.

Whether it was the fact that you like ice in your drinks or you like sleeping on the left side of bed. He knew every tiny detail about you. He had studied you from the moment he met you and since then, he learnt how you liked to have things done or the way you completed something. He noticed that you can’t sleep without music or no fan – you have to have both things on. Those were just some of the many small things he adored about you.

“Baby, can you butter the toast for me?” Dean’s voice broke you out of your trance. You nodded in reply and sauntered to the fridge, grabbing the butter and grabbed a knife on your way to the toaster. You grabbed the four pieces of toast and put the spread on each of them, placing two each on separate plates.

You carried the two plates toward him and place it on the bench. Sam had finished his salad by the time you completed your task, placing his empty bowl in the sink.

“I’m going to go out for a bit,” Sam spoke, “I’ll see you two later.”

You turned towards him and opened your arms, offering him another one of your infamous hugs. He wrapped you tight in his embrace once again, placing a kiss on your forehead, before patting Dean on the shoulder and heading out. You wrapped your arms around Dean’s abdomen and littered gentle kisses across his shoulder blades.

Feeling his body relax under your touch made you smile against his skin, before resting your head against his back. You could feel every muscle work as he continued with preparing your meals.

“Can I put some music on?” You asked, currently in the mood to dance around the Bunker.

“Go ahead.”

Running back to Dean’s bedroom, you grabbed your phone and the small Bluetooth speaker you had bought months ago before running back to the kitchen. Dean had finished with your meals, placing them on the table. You placed the speaker on the bench and connected your phone, putting your music on shuffle. The first song happened to be Runaround Sue by Dion and the Belmonts.

“Really?” Dean looked over at you as you shrugged, sitting down beside him at the table. You kissed his cheek and mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ before digging into your meal. You hummed along to the song every now and then, swaying in your seat. You couldn’t keep still with each song that played and Dean found it hilarious. He watched as you abandoned your food and got up to dance along to Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley.

You lip-synced to the song and done your best 50’s dance moves. Dean grinned at you, egging you on with cheers and claps. You held your hand out for him to join you, but he refused, shaking his head and pushing your hand away. You pouted and moved closer to him, pulling him up. He groaned and step away from you.

“C’mon, dance with me!” You pleaded, grabbing his hands and pulling him closer to you, swaying your hips in the process.

But he pushed you away again. He didn’t want to dance. Grumpy old man needs to relax, you thought.

“I don’t want to!” He yelled, balling his fists with frustration.

“Okay,” you sighed and stopped the music. You weren’t interested in finishing your meal, so you grabbed it and threw the leftover in the bin. You could hear Dean mumbling profanities under his breath as he sat back down.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, “you never stop pushing.”

Not wanting to anger him anymore, you remained silent. You knew he would continue to talk his anger out until he was done talking. Part of you felt upset that he wouldn’t have fun with you and ease up a little, but the other part felt guilty for pushing him out of his comfort zone.

“You never know when to stop,” Dean continued, “You keep forcing me to do things I don’t want to do!”

This caused you to look up at him and frown.

“What things do I force you to do?” You argued back, anger starting to boil at his accusation.

“You force me to do immature and childish shit like dance with you or sing with you,” He retorted, narrowing his eyes at you, “and even fucking force me to go to a damn zoo for your own satisfaction.”

You felt your heart break at his last comment. It was your birthday that day and he asked if there was anything you wanted to do, and you stated that you had never been to a zoo before. That being said, he took you to the zoo for the first time. You didn’t force him to do that. He did that on his own.

“You’re always up my ass about this dumb shit about relaxing and having fun; always so damn clingy and never know when to shut the fuck up,” he growled, his words ripping further into your heart. You looked down to hide the tears that started to well.

“I’m sorry I make you feel that way,” your voice cracked, “I’m sorry that I wanted to have you to share my favorite hobbies with; I’m sorry that I always talk about you having to relax at some point, I’m so damn sorry for being ‘clingy’. I’m sorry for loving you.”

He watched as you spoke every word; regret starting to take over his anger.

“Lastly, I’m sorry that I like talking to you whenever I get the chance, because with our lives,” you paused, wiping the tears that fell away, “I never know if I’m going to wake up to multiple missed calls from Sam telling me that you fucking died during a hunt. I’m fucking sorry that I fell in love with you. I’ll leave you alone to enjoy your peace and quiet.”

Grabbing your speaker and your phone, you darted out of the kitchen and back towards Dean’s room. You stuffed the speaker into your bag as you pulled out a pair of tights and chucked them on. Pulling your ankle boots on, you grabbed your bag and walked back out of the room. You walked past the kitchen and out towards the War Room, clutching your phone tightly in your hand.

Dean seen you walk past and quickly followed you. Calling out your name multiple times didn’t slow you down; instead, you walked faster up the stairs towards the Bunker’s entrance door.

“Y/N! Dammit,” Dean grunted, rushing up the stairs and catching hold of your wrist, “don’t leave.”

“It was a waste of my time coming here for our anniversary,” you stated, pulling your hand out of his grasp and headed towards the door, “should we reconsider our label?”

Dean shook his head hurriedly, dropping to his knees in front of you. He wrapped his arms around your knees, burying his face into your thigh. Mumbled ‘no’s’ could be heard as a wet patch could be felt through your tights. You wanted to pull him up and cradle him in your arms, but you were still mad at him and hurt from the words he had said.

Prying his hands off, you stepped back and looked down at him. He was crying, making your heart clench at the sight.

“I’m so sorry,” he exclaimed, “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean any of that! I was just tense from the past week and I took it out on you by accident and I’m so damn sorry, baby.”

You could tell that he was telling the truth. He never begged. And if he did, it was between the sheets. But he had never physically begged before. You couldn’t leave him like this. Dropping your bag, you stepped forward, allowing him to wrap his arms back around your legs, clinging tightly to you.

“I love it when you dance and sing, I love it when you try to get me involved but I’d rather watch you instead,” he cried out, “I love it when you care about my health and tell me to quit worrying despite never caring about yourself; fuck, I love it when you talk. I love hearing your stories. I love when you’re clingy. God, I fucking love it. It makes me feel happy. You know why? Because you’re clingy with me, I know for a fact that there is no one else. It’s only me.”

His words shocked you. You pulled back and dropped down to your knees, cradling his face between your hands. His eyes were red and puffy from crying and you’re certain that yours were too.

“I love you,” he whispered, “I fucking love you. Don’t ever leave me. I need you.”

You couldn’t reply. So instead, you pulled him into a kiss and poured your every emotion into it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he pulled you closer, kissing you back with the same amount of emotion.

“Sorry for being a drama queen,” he muttered against your lips, causing you to giggle and pull back slightly, “am I forgiven?”

“Yes,” you smiled, giggling when he smiled and nuzzled his face into your neck, “I love you.”

He pulled the both of you up to your feet before he grabbed your phone. He went through the music until he landed on the one song he knew you loved. The familiar tune of Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling in Love sounded through your ears, making you smile up at him. He placed your phone into his pocket, grabbing your phone and pulling you down the stairs.

As soon as you reached the bottom, his hands immediately went to your waist as yours slid up to his neck. You couldn’t believe what was happening. Dean Winchester was slow dancing with you. He pulled you close, swaying side to side. You stayed in that position for the whole song until it ended and the upbeat song you enjoyed way too much came on, causing you both to break apart as you began to sing along with the girls.

“If you wanna be my lover,” you sung loudly during the chorus, dancing around Dean as he laughed out loud, “you gotta get with my friends.”

“God, I love you,” pulling you close to him again and slowly beginning to dance with you, finally enjoying himself.

F.U. (Brad Simpson Smut)

a Brad smut where you both hate each other but one thing brings you together – sex, requested by a lovely anon



I arrive to my work’s Christmas party, a first for me. After working here for four years I decided to attend one of these atleast once. I just hope Brad Simpson isn’t here.

I take the elevator upstairs. As my floor nears I can hear loud music. The door opens and my eyes are blown away by how the office looks. It’s transformed into something so beautiful, almost magical with all the decorations and the bright lights.

I’m quite pleased at how the atmosphere is so far. Maybe I should go to these more often. I look around and there he is. I spoke too soon.

Ugh. Just look at him, dressed in a white button up and grey dress pants. I loathe him for looking good in whatever he wears. But what I hate most about him is that he got promoted to the position that I should be in. I’ve been working here longer than he has. More importantly, he used others to get to where he is.

All of a sudden, he comes my way, getting real close. He’s standing just a few inches away. What the hell does he want?

“There’s something special about you, Y/N”, he flirts.

“And what would that be?” I cross my arms as I await an overused, possibly offensive answer.

“You don’t give in so easily like them.”

I scoff. There’s the offensive bit.

“You’re different.” My eyes stay with his. I take a few seconds to process what he just said.

“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment.”

“It is a compliment, you stand out from the crowd. Can you meet me in my office? I want to talk to you about something.”

I’m taken aback by his words but the genuiness in his tone has me considering his invite. I nod as I am at a loss for words. He wants to have an actual conversation with me. Wow.

I follow him to his office which could’ve been mine. He shuts the door after I enter the room. I’m intrigued as to what he wants to talk to me about, in private. Does he want me to take his place instead?

He walks to his desk, sitting on the edge. “So tell me Y/N, how does one resist this?” His hands motion over his body.

“Excuse me?” Is he joking?

“I want to know why you don’t want me.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s why you brought me in here, to ask me a stupid question? Well if you really want to know, it’s because you’re dirty and disgusting. You use women just to get what you want. Why would I ever cave?”

“That’s what you think? Hmm.”

I dart my eyes at him.

“There’s got to be something else”, he prompts.

“You’re an asshole for doing what you did to rise to the top!”

“There it is, you hate me. Funny thing, I don’t really like you either.”

“Then why bother bringing me in here?”

“Because you’re the only one here who doesn’t like me. I don’t like that and what you think about me.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“I’m not here to boost your ego or to please you.”

“You sure about that?” He moves close to me.

I immediately back away. “Get away from me!” I slap his face.

He looks at me angrily. “You don’t know anything about me!” he yells.

“I think I know more about you than–”

“You don’t know shit! I worked my ass off to get here!”

“No you didn’t.”

“Just shut up already.” He grabs me, pulling me close. I can see his face clearly. Oh God. Those brown eyes. I feel like I’m under a spell.

Out of nowhere, he spins me around and pushes me against his desk. He leans in and so do I. He crashes his lips onto mine. I get angry at the fact that he tastes so good and that I’m enjoying this.

His hands take hold of my body once again, pulling me closer to his. I move my hands to his hair and tug on it. He reacts by intensifying the kiss.

I start to feel a pressure down there. I’m actually getting turned on by this. My focus shifts to him pushing my body onto his desk. He gets ontop of me, pinning me down with his arms.

I gasp. “What are you going to do?”

“Since you don’t like me, I’m not going to be gentle.” The tone in his voice darkens and so do his eyes.

Before I could get a word out, he starts kissing my neck then bites down, leaving a mark. I wince from the feeling.

He lifts my body up, moving his hands onto my dress and tearing it open. He pulls it off, leaving me in my bra and underwear. I try ripping his shirt as he stares at my body. The buttons pop off from the force, exposing his chest. God damn. That body.

“Who said you could do that?” he asks furiously. “Do you know how much this shirt costs?”

“I don’t care! You ruined my dress.”

“That’s it.” He gets off of me and pulls my body down to the edge of his desk then flips me over. He spanks my ass so hard it probably left a mark. “You bad girl.”

He takes off the rest of his clothes then removes what’s left of mine. He reaches in one of his desk drawers and takes out a condom. He slips it on and slams in me.

My mouth drops wide open. Chills run down my spine as my bare body is pressed against his desk. So cold.

His hands grip my waist, pulling me to him, allowing himself to get in deeper. I begin to feel a bit overwhelmed by the immense pleasure. As soon as I moan, he pulls out of me.

I turn around in frustration. “So you’re a teaser?”

He chuckles darkly which instantly ignites something in him. He carries me, placing me in front of the glass door of his office.

I try to figure out what his next move will be. They’ve been unpredictable so far. Before I could come up with something, he closes the space between us.

He grabs one of my legs and wraps it around his waist then thrusts into me. His lips find my ear. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be so sore. You won’t be able to walk properly.”

“That’s the best you can do? It’d hurt much more if both legs were wrapped around your waist", I challenge him.

He grabs my other leg and starts to pound into me. The force of his thrusts strengthen as my body is pressed against the glass. I dig my nails into his back, scratching the bare skin. He fucks me so hard which causes the door to vibrate. I throw my head back from the feeling. Shit. I grit my teeth. He’s so good. So good.

I close my eyes, trying to contain myself from orgasm. I open them as I hear him moan. I watch how his face moves to express the pleasure he feels. The sweat causing his hair to come undone. A loose curl moves in sync with him.

My eyes don’t miss a second of him reaching his orgasm. His eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed, nose scrunched. As his mouth drops open, his face relaxes. So fucking gorgeous. The sight of him cumming sends me over the edge.

We take a few seconds to catch our breaths. As soon as we do, he opens his mouth again. “You finally caved.”

“Fuck you.”


Anonymous requested: Hiiii, can you do a Bucky imagine where he has a love/hate relationship with reader? Like they ‘hate’ each other but they don’t realize they are actually in love with each other and eveyone else notices it except for themselfs? They have a huge fight where Bucky accidentally let it slip that he loves the reader? (I’m sorry if my English grammar is bad, I’m not English)

Author’s note: This is a super cute request! I’m so in love with Bucky and I love these kinds of plots! It’s kind of short but it’s short and sweet, I think. Also - I changed it to present tense because past tense just seems too complicated on the page. And don’t worry about your English! It’s great!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

“Who used up my fucking coffee?” You demand, still rubbing sleep from your eyes as you enter the living room of the Avengers Facility, empty jar in hand. You scan the room, watching as Tony shrugs, taking another bagel, and then your eyes land on him. God dammit, it’s too early for this. “James Buchanan Barnes for the last time no one touches my coffee! This jar is off limits.” You shout, watching as he takes another goddamn sip of your coffee, a mock look of innocence on his face. “Sorry, doll.”

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anonymous asked:


17. things you said that i wish you hadnt

“You know, Sasuke-kun, we’ve been together for quite a while,” she says to him one night, as they are both walking home from their monthly Team 7 meetup at Ichiraku’s. He simply hums in response, and lets her snuggle up closer to him as his hands remain shoved in his pockets. This makes her frown. Matter of fact, Sakura reminds him, “Five year now, actually. And we’ve been living together for four of those years.”

He spares her an amused glance, the corners of his lips lifting in a small smirk. “I’m aware of this, Sakura,” he says, looking at the road ahead of them once more. She watches his lips twitch into a small, teasing smile. “I think you’re forgetting which one of us actually remembers anniversaries and appointments,” he adds.

She gasps and elbows him lightly, cheeks flushing as he chuckles softly and tucks his arms into his body, pulling her even closer. She smiles a little, and leans her head on his shoulder, relaxing. Neither of them say anything as they listen to the sound of their footsteps and crickets in the still market. Most people have gone home, and Sakura thinks it is because everyone can smell the rain in the air. 

Even so, it is a nice, quiet night, she thinks to herself.

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