it was a late night venture

Hey guys! I’ve told you before that I’m a writer so this is a hella long post because it’s track-by-track. Unapologetically so. Hope you guys enjoy x 

TRACK 1: “… READY FOR IT?

 This song is a battlecry. The thumping bass brings to mind the heavy thud of wolves paws as they race towards their prey, seeking the trail left by a girl who used to leave her heart open and on her sleeve, ready to be snatched at any moment in a snap of their jaws. But no more. From the moment she clears her throat, we learn this battle will be on Taylor’s terms. It is her fight to win.

This is the first love song she’s released and had complete artistic ownership of in three years. It is no coincidence then that there’s reference to the tortured passions of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. They were a couple hopelessly and dangerously in love with many scars carved on their hearts by the other’s knife. This reference is a throwaway to the long list of ex lovers the girl who bathes in diamonds has had but also a reference to the flickers of hope Taylor feels for longevity no matter what with Joe. Their road may be complicated at times but they will get  there because the game is hers. The constant question of ready for it and in response baby let the games begin is so obviously a call of warning to Joe for what lies ahead but perhaps more subtly it is the call of Taylor’s inner voices and heart to her razor sharp self awareness. Is she ready for the games to begin? Is she ready to open her heart and give Joe a chance to be a better man?

TRACK 2: “END GAME” ft. Ed Sheeran & Future:

This song starts off with Taylor’s declaration that she wants to find a forever. It sounds sincere, gentle, wearied, the tone of the too often heartbroken. But then it shifts, it’s like the rose coloured glasses have come off and she’s reminded of her reputation. Then it’s all tongue in cheek sarcastic satire to keep the smile in place so that we don’t see how much it hurts. She has to weigh up every interaction in the context of her reputation. The addition of Ed & Future speaks volumes; one is a time trusted friend who has finally found a bright love of his own but that was not without heartbreak and the other gives her an edgier attitude that makes her self awareness all the more powerful.

There has been a further loss of innocence in this sharpening of her self awareness, gone are the wistful days of “say you’ll remember me”, that’s all I want. Now it’s all “I don’t wanna touch you, I don’t wanna be just another ex love you don’t wanna see.” She can see the fall right from the start but this time she opts out and says unless I’m your end game… because I don’t want to pick up any more pieces of my broken heart.

Also: Shoutout to Ed for his Cherry inspired verse. It made me feel many emotions too. SWEERAN THRIVES.

TRACK 3: “I DID SOMETHING BAD.”

The girl with the long list of ex lovers is back. However with the casually explicit twist, this narrative seems layered with perceptions and recognition of self-worth, “If a man talks shit, I owe him nothing.” This is drip-feeding the media exactly what they want, she’s stoking the fire herself. But in feeding the fire herself, she’s sending the burning embers back at them. Did you really think the girl who you used as an international rod for slut shaming would stay quiet forever? Nope. She doesn’t care if you burn her like a witch at the stake because she’s already done it. She’s burnt away all of the misplaced guilt and is now revelling in how good they felt in the moment. In fact, watch out she’s blazing with all the fire of a phoenix reborn and you might just get turned to ash.

TRACK 4: “DON’T BLAME ME.”

This & “I Did Something Bad” sound like sister tracks. The girl who jetsets around the world collecting men isn’t quite finished with her tale yet. She reminds us that defining her relationships by their headlines and paparazzi shots is a foolish move because those things are  one-dimensional. Taylor believes in love and this is her way of reminding us that there was love in every escapade of her heart up until now, at least at some point. She’s talking about the heady rushes head spinning intoxication of first glances and hands on skin and it doesn’t matter what the media says about the way she handles relationships because they forget love and that makes you crazy. Maybe in their minds the drug she refers to is not a singular identity but a collective “baby” and to them love will always be something she “uses”. But the heart wants what it wants and Taylor knows that so it doesn’t really matter.

TRACK 5: “DELICATE.”

This is the kind of song that happens when you cut the cord that is the boy crazy perception of yourself. You step back into the shadows and disappear so that they can’t find you. You close your heart, lock your doors and rebuild. And then he shows up. This is a cautionary songpp because Taylor can obviously feel sparks but… she’s just started to rebuild and if they find out the wolf hunt begins again. With delicate disbelieving vocals, we see Taylor start to realise that he can’t possibly want to gain anything from her reputation because it’s so bad… The wheels turn in her head. I imagine the realisation, “Wait so he must like me for me?” With the beat drop comes hope. Details are slowly given and then he stays. He doesn’t run so Taylor gives him pieces of herself; confessions thoughts and then her brain catches up with her mouth and the wheels come to a grinding halt: Her inner monologue screams it was too much too fast. We’ve all been there. It’s too delicate. No going back now. It’ll break and I’ll be left alone. Maybe one day I’ll find someone who doesn’t walk away, one day too.

TRACK 6: “LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO.”

The world tore a girl to shreds, made her play the fool on tilted stages. She retreated and rebuilt. Now the fool is dead. From here on out, she only trusts her army. With high heeled boots, red lips and words as sharp as daggers, she’s cutting herself a path. She is taking no prisoners and she’s accompanied by a savage snake because she and her army will always be better at the game. When she’s finished hunting down your asses, she’ll sit back on her throne with a high pitched giggle and say, “oh look what you made me do.”

TRACK 7:  “SO IT GOES…”

When people are watching, you have to be careful. Cover your tracks. Taylor doesn’t leave her heart open or on display anymore. But then they leave. The door shuts. You lock it with a key and the crashing chemistry you’ve been trying to deny slams into your ribs, knocking the breath out of you. It’s stolen kisses, careless touches, reckless chasing of the high. Body language is a fluency all its own. But a quick reminder before you unlock the door and venture out again; wash the lipstick off your face. *clears throat* you got a little caught up in the moment and you don’t want to blow your cover!

TRACK 8: “GORGEOUS.”

 The childish proclamation of the title to begin this next glimpse into Reputation  is hinting at the satirical inner monologue that this song is , reminiscent of the times you write your crush’s  last name instead of your own to see how it fits. It’s all giggles and late night phone calls, the kind Taylor most likely had with Abigail where they talked real slow because it was late and their mamas didn’t know (: However, it could also serve as a projection of the runaway daydream that fills Taylor’s mind from that very first night when she stumbles home alone to her cats, of what a possible future might look like (with kids one day) The lazy liquor loosened rhythms of Taylor’s thoughts tell us things she hasn’t admitted fully yet but will soon on nights at 4am staring at her reflection  in the bathroom mirror, telling herself the bravest thing she ever did was run - that this gorgeous  swoonworthy British boy with his careless touches and drawling accent has awakened the possibility of something better. This realisation rattles Taylor as she contemplates the gaps in her current relationship. *cue wistful sighs of frustration and enchantment, set to the dialogue of every teenage movie where the girl thinks the boy is just too good looking, how unfair is that?

TRACK 9: “GETAWAY CAR.”

The thing about any movie that has a getaway car scene is that they inevitably crash…. And that’s exactly what happens here. Except, the carnage is human hearts. She was running. There was a person she crashed into. It gets all blurred and tangled, she thinks she’s free but the thing about those movies is that the thing you ran from in the getaway car catches up to you particularly if there’s a track you can follow. Oceans of distance weren’t enough, darling. You needed to disappear. And I think she realises that  but she tries to pretend innocence and will the sunset closer. Unfortunately  the only real  way to untangle yourself is to disappear crying in the back of a getaway car in the dead of night. Without a word. That must have hurt a lot.

TRACK 10: “KING OF MY HEART.”

This song happens in tandem with Delicate. She’d sworn off love. Joe turned up. The British boy with the heart of gold who made his American queen believe. He made behind closed doors a paradise of rooftop nights. Before she knows it, he is every love story Taylor has ever daydreamed of. The line “is this the end to all the endings” made my heart swell because it’s clear Taylor hopes he’s the one. Please let there be no more heartbreak.

TRACK 11: “DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED.”

Dancing is supposed to be a joyous thing and maybe it was in the beginning. You can reassure with every beat. Sometimes your gut instinct shouldn’t be ignored though  because it does raise red flags. The door only needs to be fractionally ajar for the hunters to find a way in and set your paradise aflame. It sometimes doesn’t matter how much you dance to escape the flames, they will catch you. You will get tired. Dancing is a bliss that is euphoria swimmimg through your veins if the beat enters your bloodstream in the right moment; you feel like you could live forever. And in the end no matter how much it might hurt to walk away again, you would still dance for just another kick of that rush.

TRACK 12: “DRESS.”

Taylor’s caught up in the chemical rush. Every syllable drips with lust and the glory of the high when your hearts crash into each other, slamming the breath from between your ribs. It’s hands in hair and I don’t care what they think. It’s seeing the worst (hi bleachella) and still wanting. It’s realising you made mistakes before this and why didn’t you just do this from the beginning because it feels so good now you can’t ever have imagined wanting anything else. But every mistake is a marker in the roadmap and you woke up just in time to find where you needed to be.

TRACK 13: “THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS.”

I think everyone’s been in this situation, right? Someone burns you and it hurts but in the fun of a party, you click and connect again and it all starts to feel like water under the bridge. Maybe there was over-reacting happening. You throw them a second chance. Redemption. You’re the nice girl and you make excuses. But then they do it again, maybe it takes a couple of things and suddenly it’s too much. You lock the gate for your own safety. But they still expect you not to care. To flash a smile and forgive. I’m sorry. That’s not happening. You get hurt when I push back. I guess I should forgive you because we both threw stones. But… that would require me to mean it. Whoops, *laughs manaically* I can’t even say it with a straight face!!!

PS: It’s not too obvious I have personal experience with this song is it? Thanks KS x.

TRACK 14: “CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT.”

This song is difficult for me to process because I never thought it would actually happen. I seem to remember somewhere along the way, a couple of years back, Taylor expressing frustration that she couldn’t seem to write happy songs about being in love like Ed Sheeran could. Well, I wish you could go back Taylor and tell yourself what you know now.

This song is a three minute ode to happy love. It’s smiles so wide you might split your face in half at the thought of that person. It’s blushing and shy giggles and bursts of song and twirls and all caps texts from your girls as they collectively lose their minds over how happy you are. This is every love story and fairytale Taylor has ever wanted but the wolves are always waiting, not so easy to outrun. 

Taylor says it herself in the  opening lines. She was done. The castle had crumbled. The bricks left bruises blooming on her exposed skin. People were tearing her down and she was hurting. Her heart had been shattered but so had her soul, again and again, relentlessly. And then she retreated, went silent and rebuilt. What she didn’t count on was love. A man who saw all the bruises and broken pieces and said it’s OK, I can still find the real you under all that. Taylor like so many of us looked in the mirror and saw all the danger for herself and for Joe, tried to push him away, keep him safe. That’s a very noble action but breaking your own heart so it doesn’t hurt as much when you feel like the other shoe is going to drop requires apathy from the other person. And Joe, god bless you, you didn’t let her push you away. You broke down her walls and showed you that starlight love does still exist. You loved her for Taylor. The person. You got her to give love a chance when she swore never again so thank you so much for that. I can’t really express how much that means to all of us. 

 This is an anthem of hope for every person who has ever been broken and is in the process of putting pieces back together. It can be done. We will find love. We will be radiantly happy again. We will be the strongest we’ve ever been. 

PS: *leans over to whisper in Taylor’s ear*

I think you’re finally clean…

TRACK 15: “NEW YEARS DAY.”

Piano on the final track… This is an ode of pure hope and happiness, a fitting final chapter to a remarkable story. Everyone wants the glory of the midnights and the lover who will be in their bloodstream like the party. But what we all hope for is someone who stays long enough to help us clean up the bottles on New Years Day. Someone who makes us feel like the messy unfiltered parts look like a highlight reel. Good times and bad times and all in between. They won’t leave. You found him. Forever.

This album is fucking brilliant Taylor. I love you. Proud x.

@taylorswift @taylornation @brian-mansfield

StudyBlr Asks

I didn’t know what to do for surpassing my 600 followers goal but then I realized everyone loves getting asks so I made some that were Studyblr themed :)

  1. How long have you had your studyblr?
  2. Why did you decide to make your studyblr?
  3. Do you have any other blogs besides your studyblr?
  4. How did you venture into the studyblr community?
  5. Did you have good study habits before making this blog?
  6. Have you made any friends through your studyblr?
  7. What do you think about the studyblr community?
  8. Do you do your homework as soon as you get home or late at night?
  9. What is your favorite stationery?
  10. What is your favorite piece of stationery you own?
  11. What kinds of pens do you prefer?
  12. Favorite book you’ve read for school?
  13. Favorite studying apps?
  14. What advice about studying changed your life?
  15. What quote has impacted you the most?
  16. What do you do when you’re feeling unmotivated?
  17. Have you ever felt not good enough?
  18. What is your organization system for school?
  19. How has having this blog changed you?
  20. Do any of your friends from school know you have a studyblr?
  21. What is your dream job?
  22. How do you bounce back from a bad grade?
  23. Biggest academic achievement?
  24. Do you keep a bullet journal? What was the last entry in it?
  25. What is your favorite subject?
  26. What is your least favorite subject?
  27. Are you athletic? 
  28. What colleges are you looking at?
  29. Are you interested in the arts? Which ones?
  30. What majors are you thinking about?
  31. What extracurricular activities do you take part in?
  32. Do you need coffee to study?
  33. Do you pull all-nighters often?
  34. Do you drink energy drinks?
  35. Who has been a role model for you in your academic life?
  36. Do you have a favorite professor?
  37. Do you prefer to study with or without music?
  38. Do you prefer to study alone or with friends?
  39. What is your ideal way of learning?
  40. Do you do well with lectures?
  41. What is your note-taking strategy?
  42. Do you like giving presentations in class?
  43. How do you feel about group projects?
  44. Have you ever lost a friend because of something academic?
  45. What are some changes you would make in your school?
  46. Are you friends with any of the staff at your school?
  47. Do you go to the library to study often?
  48. Do you usually do your research online or from a book?
  49. Are you taking the SAT or ACT soon?
  50. What SAT subject tests have you taken?
  51. What APs have you taken? (+ scores if you’re comfortable)
  52. Are your notes usually color coded?
  53. Does the Pomodoro technique work for you?
  54. How do you feel about highlighting?
  55. Do you read your textbooks? How often?
  56. How good are you at aesthetic shots of your studying?
  57. How do you feel about school dress codes?
  58. Is your locker organized?
  59. Do you use loose leaf paper or notebooks for notes?
  60. Do you prefer to learn by yourself or through an instructor?
  61. What languages do you know?
  62. How often do you ask for extra help from a teacher?
  63. Do you consider yourself responsible?
  64. How do you keep track of important deadlines/events?
  65. Do you go out often during the weekdays?
  66. How do you balance social life with school life?
  67. Do you have a tutor for any subjects?
  68. Do you always do your homework? Even if it’s not due?
  69. Do you use your school planner?
  70. How do you file your papers at home?
  71. Do you use binders or accordion folders?
  72. Has a relationship ever distracted you from school?
  73. What’s a mistake you’ll never make again in school?
  74. Do you do extra work for classes? 
  75. Do you feel like you have a teacher to ask for recommendations?
  76. Do you prefer top or bottom lockers?
  77. Do you get lockers by your friends?
  78. Do you prefer having classes with or without your friends?
  79. Do you consider yourself just smart or hard working?
  80. Does your school have uniforms?
  81. Do you wear make up to school?
  82. Do you have enough time to dress up in the mornings?
  83. What is your favorite breakfast food before school?
  84. Do you take the bus or car to school?
  85. Do you always write important things down?
  86. How many alarms do you have in the morning?
  87. Do you prefer studying in the morning or in the evening/night?
  88. Do you prefer having your hardest class first or last?
  89. What is your school’s schedule?
  90. Do you tend to skip out on parties or hang outs to study?
  91. Do you legitimately enjoy studying?
  92. What is your favorite topic to study?
  93. What is your favorite way to study?
  94. Do you study in your bed?
  95. How do you feel about sororities?
  96. What is your rooming preference for college?
  97. Does your desk face a window or a wall?
  98. Do you prefer natural or artificial lighting when studying?
  99. Do you use flashcards often?
  100. What’s the highest grade you’ve gotten on an assignment you BSed?
  101. Some of your favorite studyblrs?
  102. Do you consider yourself lazy?
  103. Are you a slut for stationery?
  104. 3 things you like about school
  105. 3 things you dislike about school

Feel free to ask me any of these & reblog them for your followers to ask you too! [Questions might be added as I think of more]

November Third (part one)

@o0o-chibaken-o0o‘s birthday drarry bingo fic begins…

bingo l part one l part two l part three l part four l part five l part six l part seven l updates to come…

November third. It should have been a day like any other. Except it never was. Not for Draco Malfoy.

Muggles would call it a self-fulfilling prophecy. You anticipate something to happen so strongly that you end up seeking it out yourself, creating your own destiny and yet still calling it fate.

Some wizards had a different view. That the strength of a singular focus could work itself like an unconscious spell, creating magical power in a word, an idea, a date (for example), that you never intended.

Either way, the result ended up the same. Every November 3rd, the universe seemed to grant Draco Malfoy a chance with Harry Potter. A chance for what exactly, it wasn’t always clear. But something more than their rivalry. Something more than the empty words they shouted at each other across the schoolyard. Something that grew into a little bit more something every year.

The first November third after Draco Malfoy met Harry Potter was, of course, unexpected. The date had no significance yet. But by this time, within a few short months of meeting each other, Harry Potter had already become Draco Malfoy’s arch rival.

Draco found himself almost constantly thinking of ways to outsmart, and outmanoeuvre Potter, the golden child. Everyone loved Potter. Worshipped him, even. It wasn’t fair. Was Draco the only one who could see there wasn’t anything special about Potter apart from the scar on his head? And that had been the Dark Lord’s doing.

Of course, the thing that annoyed Draco the most about Potter, though, was the refusal of his friendship. It was as if Potter thought himself better than Draco. That Draco wasn’t worthy of Potter’s friendship. Like Potter was so great. He clearly didn’t understand or recognise Draco’s status in the Wizarding World or he would have jumped at the opportunity to be Draco’s friend. Draco took comfort in the knowledge that Potter would soon learn and regret ever turning a Malfoy away.

Still, there was a thrill in having an arch rival. Someone to scowl at across the breakfast table. Someone to try out new hexes on. Someone to compete with. And someone to fight.

There was always a crowd when they fought, whether it be with wands or words. Even when they had their wands out, it was mostly words anyway. Neither of them knew much magic yet. Although Potter’s knowledge was severely lacking, like he’d never picked up a wand before coming to Hogwarts.

And whether it was fated or a coincidence, come the first November third, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter met without those jeering crowds, in a quiet corridor, completely alone.

Draco had been frustrated about not understanding his History of Magic homework and too embarrassed to ask anyone else for help. He found himself up late the night before it was due, pacing the common room, trying to work himself out of the mess his own pride had created. Eventually he’d grown tired with the Slytherin dorm and ventured out into the castle, despite it being after hours. He figured he could always drop his name if a teacher found him. He knew his father could be very influential when he wanted to be.

He’d wandered higher than he’d meant to. Well, in fact, he had been a little curious as to the location of the Gryffindor Common Room (for the purpose of pranks of course) and found his feet simply took him in that direction. He didn’t find it of course. Just a number of endless long hallways that all looked the same bar the tall portraits that hung on the walls. One of the portraits - a lady in a hideously pink dress - had even tried to tell him off for roaming after hours. He had only walked faster.

Draco had been turning into a walkway he knew he’d seen before when he spotted a familiar figure shuffling towards him, in an old grey sweatshirt at least four sizes too big, and flannel pants that trailed across the floor. Oddly enough, despite the lack of audience for once, Draco experienced a bit of what could only be described as stage fright, nerves he didn’t recognise settling in his gut. It was a moment before he could work up the strength to speak.

”And I thought you were ugly enough in the day,” Draco managed to whisper, his voice carrying the distance easily with only a slight tremor. “Are those really your pyjamas, Potter?”

“Hmmmm,” was all Potter said in reply, still shuffling forwards.

That unsettled Draco. Potter was supposed to bite back with something witty, something to fuel the fight. Not - do whatever the hell he was doing now. Still, Draco kept his cool.

“I’m not surprised. Living with muggles - they were sure to rub off on you.”

Potter’s voice was so quiet, Draco almost didn’t hear it in the silent corridor. “They didn’t let me have pyjamas.”

“They didn’t let you have pyjamas?” Draco repeated. “What are you talking about? You’re speaking nonsense.”

Potter stopped shuffling, and leant up against the corridor wall, but not at his back like you’d expect, but all slumped on his side, his face squished awkwardly. “Always Dudley’s,” the squished face said.  “Never had my own.”

Draco kept walking closer. Potter was acting weird. “What’s a Dudley? And never had your own what? Pyjamas?”

“Clothes.”

Draco was sure he hadn’t heard properly. “What do you mean you’ve never had your own clothes? The muggles don’t buy you clothes?” He asked. It didn’t make sense. Potter was the boy who lived, the golden boy, the Wizarding World’s saviour. He got everything he wanted. How could he not have clothes?

“No,” Potter confirmed, stretching out the word. “I’m a waste of money.”

Draco blinked. “But you’re…Harry Potter.”

“I’m Harry Potter,” Potter repeated on one note, just as Draco came close enough to see his face properly in the dark corridor. His eyes were closed, and his face looked oddly relaxed, a vacant look that gave Draco the impression Potter’s mind was far from their conversation.

“Are you sleepwalking?”

“Mmmmm.” Potter’s reply wasn’t particularly descriptive but it gave Draco his answer all the same. All at once he realised the power he had.

“I could ask you anything.”

“Mmmmm.”

Draco didn’t hesitate. There was one question that sprung to his mind immediately. One that had been ricocheting around in his head since the start of the school year. “Why’d you turn my friendship down?”

Sleeping Potter shrugged against the wall. “You were mean to Ron.”

Draco almost rolled his eyes but he ended up not bothering since Potter couldn’t appreciate the gesture in his current state anyway. All this time, Draco had thought there had been something wrong with him, when it was just that bloody Weasley kid.

His next question came to mind just as easy. “What do you think of me, then?”

Potter’s face screwed up before he answered - so Draco already knew he wasn’t going to like it. “Mean. Cruel. Selfish. A bully.” The words came out slowly, each one hitting Draco as harshly as the first.

“That’s not - you’re the one always goading me! What am I supposed to do?” Draco half-whispered, half-shouted. “You know what? Wait here, Potter.” Draco had let his voice rise a little higher than he strictly should’ve, considering the time of night, but he had more important things to worry about than keeping his volume in check. He had something to prove now.

He left Potter slumped up against the wall and hurried back down to the Slytherin dorms. He never realised how far down the dungeons really were until he travelled from the seventh floor to said dorms and back on one single journey. Hogwarts was in dire need of a lift.

On his way back up to the seventh floor, a small vindictive part of Draco hoped Potter had been caught by a teacher and punished. But a bigger, more controlling part of him was holding onto the hope that Potter would be exactly where Draco left him - he couldn’t very well prove his point without Potter.

Luck was on Draco’s side it would seem - it was November third after all - as Potter hadn’t moved further than slumping to the floor of the corridor, his head still resting against the wall.

“Here, take these,” Draco said, dumping a pair of pyjamas into Potter’s lap - nothing flashy, just the silver, silk ones he’d been gifted last Christmas. “Just so you know I’m not selfish.

“Thanks,” Potter mumbled, clutching at the material loosely. He didn’t seem as aware as he had been earlier.

“Well go along then,” Draco whispered down at him. “Back to your bed.”

Potter didn’t move. Despite the uncomfortable looking position, Potter appeared quite content to remain as he was.

For a second, Draco considered waking him up, or taking him back to the Gryffindor Common Room - if he could find it - but then he remembered this was Harry Potter. And he was Draco Malfoy.

It was late anyway. By the time Draco returned to his dorm, it was almost midnight. He allowed himself a single thought to how Potter was faring on the floor before he fell asleep. The strange night with Potter was over. And that was that. Draco wasn’t one to dwell on possibilities. They were arch rivals - it had been decided as soon as Potter had rejected Draco’s friendship, maybe even earlier. That was their only story. Anything else was impossible.

Bingo progress under the cut…

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Beyond Delicious

4,500 Followers Drabble

Summary: In her drunken state, the reader thinks that Jensen isn’t a real cop and hits on him.

Pairing: Cop!Jensen x Reader

Halloween Request: @katymacsupernatural


Sauntering down Tremont Street in downtown Boston, your only focus is the click clacking of your high heels hitting the pavement. You’re barely aware of the lingering eyes as they fixate on your sexy inmate costume.

The hardcore pregaming at your best friend’s place majorly attributes to your aloofness. It’s also the reason why you’re venturing out late to acquire more booze on Halloween night.

Gallivanting around by yourself is admittedly not the best idea, especially with the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream. Meh. If it comes down to it, you can always resort to stabbing someone with your pretty five inch heels.

Keep reading

Stay Quiet

“Hey, Dean.” Castiel looked up from his paper and cup of coffee when Dean stumbled into the kitchen, still groggy from another late night working. “Can I get you some breakfast?”

Dean shook his head and went straight to the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup and doctored it to his liking before taking a seat next to Cas. He held the hot mug tightly in both hands, venturing a small sip before committing to a bigger one.

“You came in late.” Cas said. Dean didn’t acknowledge him at all, and Cas had to suppress a laugh. Fuckin’ ray of sunshine in the morning.

“Did you have a good time with Sam?”

Dean shrugged and drank more coffee.

“I’m going in for a meeting this morning, but I might be home early. Everyone’s coming for movie night tonight.”

That caught a smile at least. Castiel got up and put his dishes in the sink and then grabbed his bag by the door. Dean watched him the whole way and Cas came back to kiss him. “I love you. Text if you need anything?”

Dean nodded and laid his head on the table. Cas rubbed his back and leaned down to kiss him again, just behind the ear. “Maybe a nap?” he whispered and kissed him again before he had to go.

******************

“I don’t know why we even wasted the time on this case.” Castiel complained to Charlie as he tossed folders onto the looming stack on his desk. .

“At least they paid us for it?”

“But they essentially voted to continue alienating their customers. I don’t understand-” Castiel cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I want a better screening process. I don’t like putting my time into people who don’t actually care about their customers.”

“I know. I’ll look at the interview process and see what we can change.” Charlie said. She started out of Castiel’s office, but he spoke just as she started to close the door.

“You’re still coming tonight, right?”

Charlie popped her head back in. “Would I miss a Friday night movie?”

“Good. Dean is always happy to see you.”

Charlie nodded and cleared her throat. “So…. any progress? With Dean?”

Castiel turned his eyes back to his computer screen. This question. It was the one he hated the most and the one most frequently asked by everyone but Sam and Jess.

“He’s doing really well. He’s working with a gallery again, so he’s really happy about that.”

Charlie nodded, but didn’t push further. Cas knew she would evaluate for herself when she saw Dean that evening.

“Okay. He seems like he’s in a good place the last few times I’ve been over.”

Castiel nodded. “He is. You look at the interview stuff and I’ll close out this case, okay?”

“Sure thing.” She said, and closed the door behind her.

If someone had told Cas right after the incident that their lives would change and be better for it, he would have punched them right in the face. No shit, it changed. There was the surgery to remove the ruptured spleen and then another to put his arm back together and then physical therapy that kept him in the hospital for a few weeks. They were managing it all well, but when the doctors concluded that the loss of Dean’s speech was due to the psychological trauma and not physical injury, Cas hadn’t known what to do with that information. He knew vaguely that this had happened to Dean before, but not the details. In the meeting with the doctor and the therapist Sam and Bobby tried to reconstruct what they knew- Dean had gone three months without speaking after witnessing his mother’s death in a house fire, and almost six months after his father died in an accident that almost killed a teenage Dean and Sam as well. A nearly fatal mugging certainly fit the pattern of trauma induced selective mutism that Dean had adopted.

But now, five months in and all of his physical injuries healed, Dean and Cas had adopted a second language that only they spoke. When they were both home it was quiet. Dean no longer filled empty space with conversation, and Cas had never felt the need to in the first place. Instead they sat close and conversed through touch and an elaborate use of eye expressions. Before the incident Sam has called it eye fucking, but now it was conversation.

It was amazing how much they could say to each other now with just a look. Castiel already had three years of practice in reading Dean’s expressions, but now he was an expert. For the first few months he found himself always trying to find any hint of discomfort or stress in Dean’s face, but now he could read most everything if Dean didn’t close himself off during his depressive days.

Castiel opened files and sorted papers, consulting his computer a few times, but ultimately after several minutes had to admit to himself that he was just moving things around without actually accomplishing anything. It was okay to take a break, right? He stood and stretched, and almost on cue his phone buzzed with a text from Dean.

Going out tonight instead of movie

Everyone is already planning to come to our place.

They are coming with us. Dinner

Everyone?

Yes

Do I need to make a reservation?

Sam did

Okay. I will be home soon. Did you catch a nap?

I’m working

Cas sat back down in his chair. He needed to work too, but he just couldn’t think. After looking around at the stacks he’d made earlier, he made a deal with himself to leave as soon as he closed out the case.

Keep reading

The “Green Man” is an urban legend which originated in Pennsylvania and is said to be a glowing supernatural entity or a demon which wanders the country roads at night. This is one urban legend that has truth behind it and the truth is a lot more upsetting than scary.

In 1918, Raymond Robinson, who was just a young boy, was climbing on a train track bridge to get a closer look at some birds when he was electrocuted. The shock sent 22,000 volts of electricity through his body and literally melted his face - he lost both of his eyes, his nose, an ear, and even an arm. As Raymond grew up, he was bullied by other kids, who mocked him by calling him cruel names such as “The Zombie” and because of this, he chose to stay indoors. The very rare time he would venture outside was at nights when he would walk along State Route 351 with his walking stick. Locals caught wind of this and would go out at night in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Raymond - some would mock him as he walked alone while others were friendly.

Raymond stopped these late night walks during the last years of his life and moved to the Beaver County Geriatric Center where he died when he was 74-years-old. The real story of what Raymond experienced became obscured and overshadowed by the ghost stories that grew out of them and Raymond became more of an urban legend than a sentient being who was ostracised by the community purely due to his appearance.

Once upon a time on a late Saturday night robert and mary showed up at damien’s door and make him drive them with no explanation upon in which they treated him to a late night breakfast at Denny’s. and damien is just sitting there wearing his silk night shirt like “is….something wrong?” bc robert and mary are just staring at him and robert finally bursts out with “he feels it too!” and mary is like “all he feels is us staring holes through him, it doesn’t prove anything” and damien is like “please…..impart on me the purpose of this early morning venture?” and mary is like “robert thinks this denny’s has a weird energy and wanted a third party to prove it” “what do you mean?” and robert is like “can’t you feel it in the air???” after damien agrees that there does indeed seem to be a strange atmosphere in the denny’s, mary and robert start regularly turning up on his doorstep to settle their disputes.

the houses as people in moments of a relationship

Gryffindor

  • uncontrollable heart pounding of seeing their s.o.
  • the warmth associated with being in each other’s presence
  • having the courage to make the first step in reconciliation after a fight
  • adrenaline high after a particularly dizzying venture in the companionship of their s.o.
  • the feeling of breathlessness in the moment where both parties feel that their love for each other is requited

Slytherin

  • very supportive of their s.o.
  • desire to be able to become someone their s.o. would be proud of
  • competitiveness when it comes to gift giving for each other
  • challenging each other in anything and everything whilst enjoying every last moment of it
  • protectively slinging an arm around their s.o.
  • absentminded hair-playing
  • utter confidence in having their s.o. in their future
  • being overly conscious of the other’s presence

Hufflepuff

  • the warmth of late night cuddles
  • sweet whisperings of encouragement during a particularly stressful time
  • patient & steady hands that range from holding their s.o.’s hand to caressing them reassuringly
  • tinkling laughter as yet another inside joke is born between the two lovebirds
  • linking pinkies or entertwining fingers together during a walk
  • borrowing their s.o.’s hoodie and vice versa

Ravenclaw

  • bated breath in experiencing a first kiss
  • quiet evenings spent just to enjoy the mere company of each other
  • horrible pick-up lines used to initially gain their s.o.’s attention
  • accidentally blurting about their endearing observations of their s.o.
  • learning new things about their s.o. and finding out just how much they’re slowly and irreversibly starting to absolutely adore this wonderful human being
  • rational thought leaving/difficult to keep together once their s.o. has them wrapped around their finger

I wonder what Tyler’s relationship with No Phun Intended is.

Does he still know the notes to Drown,
And does his humming ever have Taken By Sleep’s sound?
Late at night, as he lies in his beds,
Do the chords of Blasphemy ever play in his head?
Are there days that he has to venture to his parent’s basement,
And wonder where the sadness in that room went?
Does older Tyler ever stand on the stage before a show,
And think of the black sky and ocean he used to know?
Does he ever whisper as the crowd cheers back,
“My ocean shines blue now, it is no longer black.”

Dad!Shawn. Baby Fever

A/N: A little dad Shawn for you. Enjoy! Plus please send me requests, writers block sucks. 

Ever since Shawn found you that you were pregnant he has been way protective. Well, more than usual. 

When he found out you were having a little girl, it only got worse.

“Now I have my Queen and my Princess to take care of.” He would say when the topic came up. 

Fast Forward a bit and she’s now three. 

She’s got his brown curly hair and his brown eyes, but she’s got your sassy personality. 

You roll over ready to cuddle into your husbands chest but his side of the bed is empty. You sit up confused, checking the clock.

2:17 am

“Shawn?” You whisper out.

You hear nothing in response. 

The light to your bathroom is off, and he always leaves it on so you know he isn’t in there. 

You start to wonder out of your room, praying that he isn’t up late stressing about work again. 

You sneak into his office and notice that the room is dark and that he isn’t in there.

“Shawn?” You ask out again. 

Nothing. 

You start moving down the hall, headed for the stairs thinking he got hungry and maybe ventured for a snack. 

But you hear him singing your daughters favorite song so you follow that sound. 

Her door is open slightly and you peak your head in. The light is off but her butterfly night light illuminates the room a soft pink. 

His back is to you and your baby girl is clinging to him as he rocks her softly back and forth, singing ‘Never Be Alone’ to her. You smile at the scene in front of you. 

You lean against the door frame and listen to him sing, secretly it’s your favorite song too. When she expressed for the first time that it was her favorite you weren’t surprised because that’s what you played on repeat when he was away while you were pregnant. 

He makes his swaying into a circle and sees your face. You smile at him but he is still singing softly. He now knows that his audience has gotten a little bigger. 

“Is she asleep?” He asks.

“Yeah, what happened?” You whisper walking to him slowly. He continues to sway her back and forth.

“I woke up to go to the bathroom and heard her crying. I ran in to see what was wrong, she always slept threw the night. She told me that she didn’t feel good, she’s running a fever.” He says in all one breath. 

“Ok.” You nod.

“I didn’t know what to do so I called mom.” He sighs looking at the floor.

“You called mom?” You ask. 

You’ve been calling Karen mom for years, being with Shawn since high school it just became the way you addressed her. The same for Manny, you call him dad.

“Yeah, it’s just my first response.” He shrugged slightly, hoping not to wake the sleeping toddler attached to his shoulder. 

“You could have woken me up.” You laugh lightly.

“Yeah that’s what mom said.” He chuckles. “Anyway, she told me to give her some Tylenol and change her into cooler pajamas.” He says, making you notice the new ‘Moana’ jamies she is now in. 

“Wanna know a secret.” You whisper.

“Always.” 

“I would have called mom too.” You laugh.

“See, I knew I was doing the right thing.” He laughs lightly.

“Honey you should put her down and go to sleep too. You have to be in the studio in the morning. I’ll call my boss tomorrow morning and let her know I can’t make it in.” You start off before he cuts you off.

“I already talked to Andrew, I cancelled my studio appointment.” He says as she hides her face into his neck. He smiles slightly.

“Shawn, why did you do that? You’re writing,” You start to protest.

“You have that big meeting tomorrow, all I am gonna be doing is sitting in a room messing with chords on my guitar. I can do that at home while she sleeps.” He says shutting your argument up. 

“Thank you.” You smile at him. He’s so thoughtful.

“Go back to bed babe, I got her.” He nods.

“You can come back to bed too, she’s asleep.” You say putting your hands on your hips.

“Yeah I know, I just want to hold her a bit longer.” He says so soft you almost can’t hear it.

“Ok.” You says rubbing his shoulder before walking out of her room back to yours.

*

<The Next Morning> 

You wake up and Shawn is still not in bed. You decide to let it go and get ready for your day. You take a shower and do your hair and make up before heading downstairs. 

Walking into the kitchen you see Shawn on the couch, asleep, with your daughter laying on his stomach, also asleep. You smile at them and take a quick picture with your phone, setting it as your new background. 

Your whole world is sleeping on the couch in front of you and you curse the fact that you have to leave for work. 

You walk over quietly and kiss the side of your daughters head softly and then your husbands forehead. 

“I love you both.” You whisper before leaving for work. 

*

<Once you get home>

“I know mom, I just don’t know what to do anymore. She isn’t getting better.” You hear Shawn. “Yes I’m stressing out, my baby is sick.” He says frustrated. You slip your shoes off and start walking to the kitchen. “Soon,” He says looking at the clock, he catches your gaze and you can see him relax. “Or now, she just walked in.” He says. He starts listening and then hands you the phone.

“Hey Mom.” You smile taking the phone.

“Hey Y/n” She says, calmly. “So miss Y/d/n is sick huh?”

“Honestly I haven’t been home or up long enough to assess her.” You say instantly feeling guilty. 

“I heard, I understand. Same thing happened when Shawn was her age.” She says making you feel better.

“Explain it to me?” You say. 

“Sounds to me that she has an ear infection. Wouldn’t shock me, Shawn had those all the time as a baby.” She says, you can imagine her smile.

“So we should take her in?” You ask.

“Yeah, just to be safe. They’ll give you some antibiotics for it and she should be better in the next few days.” She explains.

“Ok, thanks mom. Means a lot.” You say noticing your stressed out husband watching you intently.

“Ok, tell me how it goes.” She says before bidding her goodbyes and then hanging up. 

“Well?” Shawn asks. 

“Want me to take her in, so you can rest?” You ask grabbing your shoes.

“No I’m coming.” He says right on your trail. You agree and you both get her ready and take her to the ER. You drive so Shawn can sit in the back next to her. 

*

<After ER Visit>

“I’m gonna go get the antibiotics” Shawn says standing up from the couch. 

You guys had just gotten home from the ER and your baby was asleep next to you on the couch. She has been diagnosed with an ear infection, just like Mom had thought.

“Ok, can you get some orange juice?” You ask as he grabs his keys.

“Of course.” He says before walking out. 

Not even five minutes after he is gone Y/d/n wakes up and starts crying. 

“Wheres daddy?” She asks with tears running down her chubby face. You feel your heart break seeing her brown eyes so tearful.

“He went to get the stuff that’s gonna make you feel better baby.” You coo letting your hand comb through her hair.

“Can you hold me?” She asks blinking heavily.

“Of course baby.” You smile as she crawls into your lap. “You want me to sway you the way daddy does?” You ask and she nods. You pick her up and she clings to you the way she did Shawn. You start swaying and grab your phone and start playing her song and she calms down instantly. 

You continue to sway her and she asks you to sing to her. You turn your phone music off and hear the melody in your head as you softly sing her ‘Never Be Alone’. You will never match the way Shawn can do it but she falls asleep as you sing to her. 

“Ok that’s the cutest thing ever.” Shawn says setting a bag on the counter. You turn and look at him and see him smiling. “When did she wake up?” He asks.

“Five minutes after you left. Asked for Daddy, guess I’m second best.” You tease and he looks at you telling you that he didn’t like that joke. 

“You are not second best.” He says putting the orange juice into the fridge.

“I know, she’s just a Daddies girl.” You smile at him. He smiles too and starts to read the instructions for her meds. 

“God, she’s gonna hate me when I make her take this nasty pink shit. I know I hated it.” He groans.

“Want me to make her take it?” You ask him. He looks at you with hopeful eyes.

“No I got it.” He says. 

“Come take her.” You say to him. He walks over and you transfer her to his arms. 

“I said I got it.” He says as you walk to the counter.

“Yeah but your eyes said something else.” You grab the liquid and her sippy cup full of orange juice and walk over to them. “Baby.” You rub her shoulder.

“What Momma?” She whispers.

“Daddy got the stuff that will make you feel better. You just gotta drink this stuff and then I have some juice for you.” You say as she opens her big brown eyes. “Then Daddy is gonna sing to you.” You smile knowing that that will get her to take it. She nods and then you hand her the medicine and she takes it like a champ. She doesn’t even complain about the taste. 

“Did she take it?” Shawn asks.

“Yeah like two minutes ago” You say as she hands you her sippy cup. 

“She didn’t even complain.” He says confused.

“Yeah well I didn’t either when I had to take that.” You say walking to the kitchen. 

“Well we know where she got her personality from.” He winks at you. You smile and wash out her sippy cup. 

“Just sing Mendes.” You say as you start to walk up stairs. He follows you and takes her to your room. He lays on his back with his baby laying on his stomach. 

“C’here babe.” He says waving you over. You crawl into bed and he holds you with his free arm. 

“Got my Queen and my Princess, what else could I ask for.” He smiles down at you. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean murmurs against Cas’s ear. The angel grumbles at being disturbed but snuggles closer anyways. It’s an odd occurrence for Dean to wake up plastered to Cas’s back instead of having the angel spread out over his chest, but it’s a welcome one. His morning wood pokes persistently at the small of Cas’s back, and the angel must notice because he wriggles his butt towards the other man.

Dean mouths at the curve of Castiel’s neck as he slides a hand around to paw at the other man’s belly, before slipping his wandering fingers down the bee-patterned sleep pants.

“Mm,” he groans, squinting over his shoulder with skeptical blue eyes. “Good morning, Dean.” He says, voice rough with disuse.
“It sure is,” the hunter replies cheekily, rubbing his cock more insistently against the angel’s ass. “I know one way we could make it even better,”

“Coffee,” Cas sighs with a sly smile, “Toast with honey. Bacon, pancakes - oh!” Dean wraps calloused fingers around his dick and tugs gently, burying his nose in the angel’s hair.

“You’re sure there’s nothing else you want?” Dean teases, using his other hand to venture between Cas’s legs. His fingers circle where Cas is still wet and open from late last night - or earlier this morning. The angel lets out a contented sigh and spreads his legs a little to offer better access.

“A glass of orange juice would be lovely, Dean. Thank you for asking.” Dean snorts at the request and rolls away for a moment to retrieve the lube from the floor. Cas simply rolls over to watch him with a fond smile. Dean awkwardly scoots back over and leans in for a kiss, regardless of the morning breath.

He relieves them both of their pyjamas before slicking up his fingers and throwing his arm over Cas’s hip to sink two into his ass with little resistance. “Oh,” he breathes, eyes closing happily. Dean thinks he might start purring at any given time.

The new position offers the benefit of having their cocks align and rub against each other while Dean opens Cas up, and the angel voices his agreement quietly, almost lazily, when Dean adds another finger. They somehow end up kissing again, tongues twining together slowly, as if they have all the time in the world.

Dean, finally satisfied with his prep work, breaks away to lift Cas’s leg and line himself up. He watches Castiel’s face as he pushes in, smiles as the angel’s eyes flutter closed and his lips part on a gasp.

“Hm, how’s that for lovely, darlin?”

“Exceptional,” Cas says, as if whipping out the verbal thesaurus during sex is completely normal.

With a grunt, Dean starts moving. The position only allows a steady pace with long, languid rolls of the hips. He’s able to press deep enough that he can brush Cas’s prostate regularly, and with the way Cas is digging his nails into Dean’s back, he thinks he’s doing alright. “That’s perfect, Dean.” Cas moans, grabbing for Dean’s head to guide him into a kiss. It’s sloppy and rushed, but they’re both getting close and they don’t have as much time as their pace might suggest.

“We have to check out in two hours,” Dean pants, lifting Cas’s leg a bit higher. “We should finish and get the breakfast before we leave,”

“Thats a good idea, our flight leaves at three so we should be there early. Hurry up!”

Dean pulls out just long enough to flip Cas onto his stomach before slipping back in and letting loose. He fucks Cas fast and hard, a sharp contrast to a few minutes ago. His balls slap the pert flesh of the angel’s ass, and he starts grunting as he gets closer. Cas is whining and grasping at the sheets, the headboard quietly banging the wall.

Cas comes with a shout, back arching and hips bucking as his hole clenches around Dean’s cock. The other man moans as he pulls out, fist flying as he brings himself to completion all over Cas’s ass and back. He collapses with a bounce next to Cas and heaves a heavy breath.

“Can we get some coffee?” Cas asks into the pillow.

“You might want to shower first,”

After a handsy shower, they pack up and hit the breakfast bar before they leave. Cas gets his coffee and pancakes, and Dean has three bowl of Froot Loops.

The receptionist beams at them from behind her desk when she hands them their receipt.

“Thank you for staying with us Mister and Mister Winchester, we hope you enjoyed your honeymoon!”

“It was lovely,” Dean says before throwing his blushing husband a wink, “We’ll definitely be back for our anniversary.”

starbirdrampant  asked:

A Master and An Apprentice

He wasn’t quite sure which came first: sentience, or the knife. His memory circuits couldn’t make sense of how a cleaning droid gained self-awareness, nor of why someone had taped a kitchen knife to the top of him, right at ankle-level for the humanoids on base. But Stabby did know that the humanoids found it hilarious to watch other humanoids scramble out of the way of the knife or be taken by surprise, and somewhere deep within his circuits, Stabby found it hilarious too.

He was just doing his job one day, cleaning the floors (well, and deviating from his randomly-generated pattern to startle six humans, two Mon Calamari, and a Twi’lek) when he heard a chorus of binary coming from a nearby supply closet. Curious, Stabby peeked his visual sensor in and saw a circle of astromechs huddling around a blue and white R2 unit, hanging on its every beep and whistle. The R2 unit told story after story of adventure, fighting evil, and saving the galaxy. Stabby had not known if he was capable of the emotion that humanoids called “awe”, but listening to the R2 unit’s tales of heroics, he became sure.

After the night grew late and the other astromechs returned to their charging stations, Stabby wheeled up to the storyteller.

[Hello there] he ventured. [Your stories are wonderful.]

[Hello, and thanks!] the R2 unit replied.

[I was wondering] Stabby beeped hesitantly, [if you could teach me how to be a hero?]

The R2’s processor whirred as he considered the question. [Well, anyone can be a hero, by being brave at the right time. And you’ve even got a little weapon there. Sure, why don’t you come back here tomorrow, and I’ll teach you some tricks?]

[Thank you so much!] Stabby burbled with joy. [I’ll be here!]

So Stabby began his training with R2-D2, the droid that had been in the center of so much of the action in the galaxy. He learned about the weaknesses of organics, about when to ignore what humanoids and pessimists were saying, and most importantly, about honor, courage, and persistence. And all the while, he practiced with his knife. The more the humanoids got used to watching out for Stabby, the more stealthily he learned how to attack.

“I swear, it’s like that kriffing little thing’s sentient,” grumbled one officer. “It’s like it knows how to getcha when you least expect it.”

Stabby’s circuits lit up with delight, but he said nothing and pretended to almost bump into the wall on his way out.

Stabby loved training, loved being R2-D2’s apprentice, until one day, the enemies attacked the base. R2-D2 had to take his place in the battle, while Stabby tried to stay out of the way of the humanoids trying to escape.

Stabby’s circuits shook with fear. This was a real battle, not a funny prank. He was just a cleaning droid, and his master was nowhere to be found. He backed into an alcove and tried to stay out of sight as white-armored bad guys ran through the hall.

The door at the end of the hallway opened, and out of a cloud of smoke came something very dark and very tall. It walked on two legs and made a rhythmic noise. Stabby recognized Darth Vader from R2-D2’s stories.

As Darth Vader walked past him, Stabby remembered what his teacher had said: anyone can be a hero by being brave at the right time. Well, this was his chance.

Silently, he rolled out of the alcove, aimed for Darth Vader’s ankle, and accelerated at full power.

The knife hit something solid, and Stabby felt dazed. Vader did not fall down dead; he did not fall at all. He bent down and picked Stabby up.

Stabby froze in fear. Surely this was the end for him!

From inside the mask came a soft, raspy noise. In confusion, Stabby realized that Vader was laughing at him.

Vader turned to one of his troopers. “Take this back to my shuttle, and see that no one knows about it.”

The trooper took Stabby, eyeing him warily. “Yes, Lord Vader.” 

Well, this was certainly going to be an adventure. Maybe Stabby was following in his master’s footsteps after all.

Your Love Bizarre

OK folks, I have combined three challenges into this doozy! All prompts will be in bold; song lyrics in italics. Also a shout out to @ilostmyshoe-79 and a really late birthday fic!!

@chelsea072498‘s Prince’s Let’s Go Crazy Challenge: The song I choose was “Love Bizarre” with Sheila E and my prompt is: Seeking shelter from the storm, they made their first mistake.

@melissaj616‘s Follower and Birthday Celebration: My prompt is:  “Maybe I have a few secrets you haven’t discovered yet.” (HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!!)

@iwantthedean‘s SoCo Summer Writing Challenge and my prompt is:  “I will be singing only to you.”

Although not SUPER kinky, it is probably the kinkiest smut I have ever smutted. 

Word Count: just shy of 3200

Warnings: Threesome, use of a DP strap on; DP; Dom/Sub relations; Skype sex; anal sex, vaginal sex, all kinds of sex, unprotected sex, cum feeding

Pairing: Dean x Reader x Sam (no Wincest)

A huge thank you to @helvonasche, @madamelibrarian and @when-the-day–met-the-night for the beta. 

NSFW image under the cut

Originally posted by shaabanahmontana

Keep reading

Milestone

Four years ago, deep in the throes of post Sherlock S2 angst, I ventured out to the internet looking for other obsessed souls and discovered Johnlock Fic.

Three years ago, I decided to write my own.

Today, my first fic Colors rolled over 3,000 kudos on AO3.

I wrote that story as an experiment of sorts, a way to see if I had novel length fiction in me. I remember all those weeks of hard work and late nights and too much caffeine and sweat and tears and joy and wondering if anyone would ever actually read it.

This fandom has given me so much–good friends and shared laughs and amazing experiences–but I am most grateful that it helped me find the courage to write stories of my own. I am so grateful to be part of this community.

Endless thanks and hugs to every person who has taken the time to read my stories, and to every author who has given me the gift of sharing theirs. I will find and hug every one of you. You’ve been warned.

Creepypasta #1269: A Room In My House Sometimes Has Two Doors

Length: Medium

I moved to a new place. It’s a relatively small house but as the bachelor I am, it’s a palace. Aside all the space I need for day to day living, it even has some extra room I haven’t fully decided what to do with yet.

One of those is a small windowless room right next to the stairway leading to the upper floor and basement. When checking out the house, I already had ideas about turning it into a hobby room or dedicated gaming cave. Though as things usually go with moving, it turned into a “I’ll unpack these boxes later” room for the time being.

As time went on, I did venture in there now and then to dig through the boxes in search for something I needed but didn’t feel like putting in place just yet. Everything was normal until during a late night TV binge, I had a sleep drunk craving for milkshake and decided to dig out that blender I use on an average of twice a year. So, as per usual I went to the room to look through the boxes marked “kitchen”. I opened the door… only to find another door.

As you can imagine I was kinda perplexed, holding the handle of my actual door still in my hand. Looking over this strange second door, I found that this side had no handle, just a smooth metal plate in its place with a keyhole. Giving it a push, I found it locked so I couldn’t get in. I stood there for a while, puzzled about how this was possible. I imagined that maybe this was some kind of strange construction where both doors usually stick together as one and just now separated in some way. But that was quickly dismissed, the second door sat on the other side of the frame and opened into the room whereas the first one opened outwards into the hallway. As such there was also a gap between them not too much thicker than my hand. Further trying to rationalize, I thought that maybe this door had been there all the time and was just always open so I missed it… but no that wasn’t it either, it sat centered on that room wall, not against an edge so I must have seen it at some point.

I must have kinda zoned out at some point. I found myself sitting on the sofa watching TV as I did before. Pretty much instantly I thought that was an odd dream, so I got up and opened the room door… and it was normal. Just the one door opening to a room full of boxes. I was relieved that it turned out just to be an odd dream, I still dug out that blender as now I actually DID have a craving a milkshake though.

Things were as normal for the next few weeks again. I didn’t have to go in there often and every time I did, it was just the one door. Until one day I wanted to put something away in there. I opened the door only to find the second door again. I almost dropped what I was holding. This time it was in the middle of the day and I was wide awake. I even pinched myself just to make sure. It wasn’t a dream, the second door was there again.

I was definitely faced with some kind of odd phenomenon here and decided to do some investigating. First of course, I again tried to open the door, no luck as before. No handle, door locked. I did have the idea to try the actual key to the room, the one from my side at least, but it didn’t fit the lock on that door. I even tried out my “Hollywood door cracking” skills with a piece of wire as a lockpick and the old credit card thing, with no success aside a broken wire hanger and a bent to hell piece of plastic.

I then thought, “how reliable is this door appearing”, since I’d opened and closed it several times without it being there. I closed the outer door and opened it again, the inner door was gone. Closed and opened it, still gone. I repeated this I think about nine more times before it was there again. Another closed and opened and it was gone. I tried this for the better part of an hour, coming to the conclusion that it was random, though it never seemed to happen twice in a row.

I also wondered if I could film it happening, though the only camera I had that would fit in the gap between the doors was my phone’s and I didn’t intend on losing that for an experiment, just in case the space in between the door was randomly here and there too. I did want to see what happened inside the room though. Since my stuff was still there, I figured my phone wouldn’t vanish. After making the inner door disappear again, I got in the room, started recording on my phone, and propped it up a bit so it filmed the doorway. 

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“You’re such a bad influence but I love it.” + Peter Parker.

note: i haven’t written smth in a while and i wanna start writing again so please, please, PLEASE send in requests for any marvel character! (don’t do smut so don’t bother lmao)

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The Times They Remembered Pidge Was a Girl

Summary: The stuff you have to deal with while being a girl doesn’t change just because you’re up in space. At least you have four guys, five lions, and two aliens on your side.

One-Shot 1: Apparently Mother Nature Visits in Space 

(FF | | AO3

Pidge centric. Female pronouns for Pidge. Just an exploration of situations Pidge can find herself in. Family dynamics ftw. 


“You want what?” Hunk asked, staring at the youngest paladin with a quirked brow.

“You know, those smooth disk things you made that one time,” Pidge said, flattening her hands together in a circular motion. “We used it to teleport-”

“I know what you’re talking about,” Hunk said, putting his hands on his hips. “But I didn’t think you liked those cookies.”

Pidge shuffled her feet nervously, pushing up her glasses with a finger. “Uh, well I don’t exactly…” At Hunk’s crestfallen expression the green paladin quickly shook her head, laughing nervously. “I mean- but I really want them now!”

Hunk didn’t exactly believe her but he did catch her shoveling some of the green goop into her mouth late last night when he ventured into the kitchen for a midnight snack. He also remembered thinking whether or not it was actually midnight. Altean time measurements use 20 vargas in a day so technically it was ten at night?

Hunk rubbed his temple. Space math.

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