it was supposed to be green but it turned grey

was never much one for playing the odds

A little birdie might have suggested that it was recently @moonfox22’s birthday and also that she needs hugs and love and good things.

I wrote this instead of working on my Camp project because Priorities™.

Blind date; insufficient underwear; luck of the sannin. Kakasaku. Smut. What is consistent tone.


Sakura tugs at the hem of her dress and scowls.

It’s not the length of the skirt that’s bothering her; Sakura is proud of her legs, thanks.

It’s that Ino broke into her apartment two days ago and stole almost all of her underwear. Apparently, cotton boy shorts with smiling fruit on them “aren’t appropriate for a woman over the age of seventeen, seriously, what the hell Forehead, your pink hair is bad enough.”

Which, okay, rude. There’s nothing inherently juvenile or girlish about pink hair, Ino. Sakura gets her hair colour from her grandfather. It’s gender neutral.

And Sakura is more than willing to fight anyone who disagrees.

She’ll even do it without chakra.

Anyways, Sakura’s underwear.

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Coldness

✖ Characters/relationships: Percival Graves x Reader, Sam (the Obliviator), Abernathy

✖ Genres: Mild fluff, mention of blood (nothing graphic)

✖ Summary: You find an urgent note meant for Director Graves and you know it’s your duty to give it to him as soon as possible [Based on this imagine] @Anonymous

✖ Disclaimer: All characters are at least 21 y/o unless stated otherwise.

✖ Word count: 1665

A/N: The title is stupid, I know, but I couldn’t come up with anything better. Sometimes titles just don’t want to come to you when you need them most, right? Anyway, this fic is a bit short, I know this too, but hope you all will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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[…]

“Before I forget.” Niall moved over to the sofa. “I’m throwing my annual after show party in January.”

“After show for what?” Louis asked.

“For the year.” Niall grinned. “Anyone can throw a New Year’s party. I’m throwing an after show party in January. You guys are invited, of course.”

Louis glanced at Harry, not sure what to say. They wouldn’t go together, after all. There wouldn’t be any reason to.

“Liam already agreed to come,” Niall added, as if he knew Louis needed a reason.

“I’ll be there,” Harry said. “As always.”

Niall hummed, watching Barbara. “I didn’t have a doubt about that.”

“Can we bring people?” Louis asked.

“‘Course.” Niall shrugged. “No problem.”

“Cool.” Louis turned to Barbara. “Will you go with me, Babs?”

She jumped a little, almost cutting Harry’s ear. “What?”

“Fuck, Louis.” Harry kicked his foot against Louis’ shin. “Don’t do shit like that while she’s cutting my hair.”

Louis chuckled, reaching out to pat Harry’s cheek lightly. He kept his eyes on Barbara, though. “What do you say?”

“It’s not like she wasn’t invited already,” Niall pointed out.

Louis rolled his eyes at him. “You want me to help you out here, or what?”

Niall raised his hands in a defensive gesture, lowering his head a little.

“Why should I go with you?” Barbara asked, crossing her arms.

“Because I hate going to parties on my own. You’re fun.” Louis shrugged innocently, knowing he had his biggest ace still up his sleeve. “Also, I’ll take Lottie, and I’m sure she’d love to have you around.”

Barbara’s eyes lit up. Louis knew that it didn’t need any more convincing than that. “You really think she’d want that?”

“Of course.” Louis nodded.

For a moment, she was quiet, glancing at Niall a few times. She pursed her lips, tapping the comb against Harry’s shoulder. “Yeah, okay,” she said then, grinning at Niall first, before she looked at Louis. “I’ll go with you.”

“Oh my God, I love you.” Niall jumped off the sofa and hugged Louis, kissing his cheek sloppily.

Louis laughed, shoving Niall off. “The rest is up to you, mate.”

Barbara shook her head, still grinning while giving Harry’s hair a few final touches.

“How come you never got to convince her before?” Niall asked Harry. “Did you even try?”

“Not once,” Harry said drily, removing the towel from his shoulders.

“I’ll go get something to sweep the floor.” Barbara fled the room.

“Wait.” Niall followed her, hot on her heels.

Louis gazed after them for a moment, then he turned to Harry. “As if she needed any convincing.”

Harry shook his head. “She knows exactly what she wants.”

Louis stepped closer and reached out. Harry’s hair was still damp, and messed up from Barbara kneading products into the strands. “You look cute.”

“Cute.” Harry looked a little uncertain. “Not sure about that.”

“I like it.” Louis pulled Harry’s head a little closer, lips brushing over Harry’s. “You had nothing to be scared of. Still gorgeous.”

Harry’s breath hitched and he leaned in to kiss Louis properly. Maybe Louis had said too much; maybe he wasn’t supposed to call Harry gorgeous. But he was. Why shouldn’t Louis tell Harry? There was a reason, wasn’t there? Louis couldn’t remember. Not with Harry’s lips on his own.  

“Thanks for calming my nerves,” Harry murmured, resting his forehead against Louis’. He still had his eyes closed. “It’s just hair, I know.”

“It’s your hair,” Louis reminded him. “You’re allowed to be scared of a change like that.”

Harry opened his eyes, and they were dark; the green turning into a stormy grey. “You’re not supposed to be this nice to me.”

Louis managed a smirk. They’d leave in a few hours, and he had no idea how he was supposed to muster up the courage to tell Harry how he felt about him before that. He didn’t know if he should tell Harry at all. Maybe today was the last time they’d ever see each other, anyway.

“Am I supposed to tell you that you shouldn’t be this whiny about your hair? That you’re a vain chinless wonder?” Louis tilted his head a little. “Is that what you’d like to hear?”

“Is that what you really think?” Harry asked.

“It’s what I should be thinking.” Louis ran his fingers down Harry’s back, resting it over the curve of his bum.

Harry’s gaze lost focus. Louis knew exactly what he was thinking about, where his thoughts had drifted off to. Louis had finally got around to thank Harry properly the night before. Things had turned a little heated, and definitely intense between them when Louis had fingered Harry open. He didn’t think he’d ever forget how beautiful Harry had looked when he had ridden his orgasm out on Louis’ fingers.

It had probably been the last time they’d slept together, touched each other like that. The thought made Louis swallow around a lump in his throat. He didn’t want this to end.

“There are kids in the house, you know.”

Louis startled, and Harry pulled back, eyes clearing. He cleared his throat, crossing his arms behind his back.

Lottie hip-checked Louis when she passed him, a small bag in one hand. “Babs allowed me to take over from here and style your hair.”

“Great.” Harry sat down again, nervously glancing at Louis.

Licking his lips, Louis stared back. He wondered if they were on the same page, at all. He couldn’t tell, didn’t know. All he knew was that Harry had planned to be with Luke once January rolled around.

Was he just a pastime? A replacement as long as Harry couldn’t be with Luke? Louis had no idea what to make of all this. Harry certainly enjoyed his company, and he definitely enjoyed the sex. Louis just wasn’t sure there were any feelings beyond those on Harry’s part.

He left the room, needing distraction from his thoughts – from Harry.

[…]

The Mask

Wrote this after seeing the tumblr prompt “Remember Me” where one character helps another remember something and wanted to to a little reincarnation one.


Loki finds an old mask inside The Teutoburg Forest.


They say finding a mask inside The Teutoburg Forest is quite rare. So When Loki and his parents joined the rest of the group and ventured into the forest, following their balding tour guide, Loki didn’t really expect to find one. Except he did.

It was sunny when they went it. The skies were clear and Loki rolled the sleeves of his leather jacket up until they reached his elbows. He zipped the jacket all the way up when they got ready to leave the hotel because his dad took one look outside and said that everything looks so grey out there it has to be chilly but it wasn’t. It was warm inside the bus and Loki took the jacket off for a while and kept it on his knees, but when they all spotted those dark treetops inching closer to the large windows he put it back on and he heard his dad’s voice over the music swaying in his ears going ‘good call’. It was still warm when they stepped out of the bus and by the time they were walking around the Hermann Monument soaking in all those details about the war chief Arminius defeating three Roman legions under Varus in 9 CE, his hair felt like it was beginning to stick to the back of his neck and his cheeks got all red.

They had their lunch there in the shade of some trees with that 175.3 ft tall monument standing motionless in the sun and Loki watched the shadows catching in all the right places, clinging to the crook of Arminius’ elbow, to the folds of skin right above his knees, and covering his eyes and Loki couldn’t see them at all. Arminius was wielding a sword, pointing it at the sun and half of it was light and the other half was shadow.

His mom and dad kept taking pictures of it while sharing a cigarette and it wasn’t long before Loki started toying with his phone, shuffling through all that music with the glare of the sun making his eyes all itchy and watery, forcing him to squint, touching the light colored birthmark resting there over his heart because sometimes it got all tender. He loved everything history related, but this monument with all its shadows and hot copper plates made him feel uneasy. So when their tour guide made sure no one left a single plastic bag or fork or some kind of wrapper lying around and said it’s time to go Loki jumped to his feet so fast his parents gave him a look and he only shrugged, took his earphones out and stuffed them in his pocket along with his phone.

The Hermann Monument is located on a tiny hill and their little group of maybe twenty or so had to make its way down and retrace its steps in order to get back to their tiny bus where the seats were so crowded there was no way you could just sit there without having your shoulders pressing against the shoulders of those sitting to your left and right.

Loki hadn’t really noticed when it started to get cold; it felt like it was really warm until suddenly it wasn’t and he found himself tugging on the sleeves of his jacket , bringing them down to his wrists and zipping the jacket up.

This light breeze came out of nowhere and when it moved over his cheeks it felt like glass dust. Loki paused for a moment and looked up. The sun was almost gone and the trees along the path were whispering in soft female voices that made the hairs on Loki’s arms stand on end.

“Loki!”

It was his mom and his dad was standing next to her with one hand in his pocket motioning for him to catch up because he was day dreaming again and it wasn’t exactly this new thing.

This time Loki was grateful for the warmth inside the tour bus and spent the following hour and a half sitting there with his earphones on but he wasn’t listening to music or to an audiobook, he just had them on so his mom and dad won’t bother him because that view of those tall trees just turning into a soft blur of green and grey and brown with the speed and time passing it by just had him captivated and he couldn’t and didn’t want to look away.

It was supposed to be just this little peek into the area inside The Teutoburg Forest where Arminius’ men slaughtered three Roman legions sent by the Emperor Augustus and led by Varus to cross the Rhine and conquer the lands. With Melville the tour guide leading the way, they left the bus behind and ventured deeper into the forest, following what Melville believed was the path the Romans took when they marched forward to their deaths.

Loki’s parents were more than a few steps ahead of Loki, talking, using that tone of voice people use when they converse about horrible things that happened a long time ago, sad, but also a little excited.

All forests are filled with silence but this one felt so quiet it made Loki’s ears hurt and the trees were so pale they looked like endless columns of smoke and the yellowing grass reminded him of tiny sparks of fire jumping all over the place with the touch of some wind.

An ambush, the tour guide said and Loki looked far ahead into the shadows and as he was walking slowly the wind was there to keep him company, smelling like old flowers and grey skies.

At some point he got so cold he had to stop and try to get the zipper to go all the way up. He watched it glinting bronze in the faint light, blinking between his fingers and tugged on it because for some reason it got stuck. He tugged on it and pulled, yanking it up and down and then up again, trying to get it to run smoothly and when it finally did and he felt the collar embracing his neck so it felt all nice and warm, he looked up and found himself alone.

No mom and dad. No tour guide. No people he didn’t take the time to actually try and see what their faces looked like. Everyone was gone and for some reason he wasn’t afraid.

He started walking, stepping on long fragile shadows, the cool breeze moving his lashes, sticking to his lips, making his hair all sleek and soft and at some point it started to rain, soft and lazy. The forest breathed around him and each exhale moved him forward and moving through the rustling grass and the pale light made him lose all track of time. He walked until his feet hurt, until each and every one of his breaths felt like an entire galaxy expanding inside his lungs , until his mom and dad were just a reflection on a still body of water and that’s when he saw it.

It was a brass mask. Half of it was buried in the ground, the other half peeking out, the silent light moving over it drawing silvery circles around one eye hole. It was right there next to the roots of some tree and Loki got on his knees and used his fingers to dig around it. The dirt hurt getting under his fingernails but Loki kept filling his fist with more until he could pull it out.

He ran his palm over it once and exposed a wide stripe of bronze. He did it again and the dirt sticking to and blocking the eye hole, fell away and through the hole he could see some very light fog hovering over the grass, tiny flowers looking like little blooms of smoke turning their heads towards the shadows.

Loki used the tiny droplets of rain dotting the sleek bright surface to wipe the mask clean. It looked like the face of a sleeping man. He stuck his little finger inside the cut that was the mouth and ran his finger over the edges.

The Romans used these masks in battle to protect the face. Battle masks, they were called.

Loki stood up and with the tip of the brass nose pressing hard into the palm of his hand, put it on. It felt wet and the cold made his cheeks sting. He parted his lips to breathe and the air he drew in tasted like chalk. The edges of the eye holes were pressing against his lashes, pushing them back and with his pupils exposed like that he watched the forest and there was nothing there that could make him believe it wasn’t the same forest from such a long time ago, using that light rain to wash away those deep burgundy stains sticking to the roots and the leaves and the grass.

When Loki removed it, that’s when he first saw him. He appeared in the second it took Loki to pull the mask to the side, a boy about his age, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, dark blonde hair sticking to his temples, damp from the rain.

He smiled at Loki and Loki studied his face with the sound of the falling rain filling his ears with whispers.

Was this boy a part of their group?

Loki couldn’t remember.

“A face mask,” the boy said and ran his fingers over the mask from temple to chin.

Loki watched him, the way his lashes fluttered in the light drizzle, the softness of his lips, the kindness in his eyes and his heart was full of longing for an unnamed memory.

“The Romans used them to protect the face,” the boy said and Loki blinked slow.

“I know. The tour guide told us about it. Were you with us? I don’t remember seeing your face before.”

The boy smiled and moved the mask in front of his own face so it obscured it from Loki’s eyes, one strong thumb pressing down on a pair of bronze lips, holding the mask up.

“Did your tour guide tell you this story?” he asked Loki and brought the mask down little by little, exposing a soft brow, a blue eye, a straight nose and a pair of beautiful lips dotted with raindrops.

Loki raised his brows and the boy leaned in a bit closer and his voice like a summer storm, quiet and comforting, “many of Varus’ men died here. It was raining then, just as it’s raining now. They were ambushed. Slaughtered one by one. Breath gone and all memory gone with it. So many unnamed. Tales of bravery forgotten. One tale remains. The tale of two of Varus’ soldiers. They were young. They were in love. They were only boys when they were drafted and as much as they wanted to fill Augustus’ heart with pride, they also wanted to return home alive, to hold hands in the sun, to see the stars in each other’s eyes. They marched side by side in the rain. The sound of it was everywhere. They were cold and tired, but they had a long way to go before they could set up camp. One of them thought of the way his lover looked with the golden outline of their beloved city reflecting in his eyes, with all that glorious sunlight bathing his shoulders, with the taste of infinity and freedom on his lips and the other looked at him in the dark and saw all that longing in his eyes and reached over to touch his hand. Only one of them saw the spear flying out of the shadows, starlight moving over it like a bolt of lightning, and covered the other with his body. That spear pierced two hearts that night. They never made it home.”

The boy grasped the collar of his t-shirt and tugged on it.

And there it was, a birthmark identical to his own, just over his heart and Loki pressed his palm to his own chest and the boy gave him a sad smile and took his hand.

The Black Moon, Book One, Chapter 5

Ross was among the stalls where some old clothes and second-hand shoes and wigs were for sale, when a harsh voice behind him said: ‘Well, my grandfather’s ghost, if it ain’t the young Cap’n himself! It’s you, my son. There couldn’t be no other!’ He turned. ‘Tholly?’ He could not believe his eyes. ‘But I supposed you dead!’ A heavy man with the square shoulders of an asthmatic; stooping, forty-six years of age, dressed in a fustian long coat, primrose yellow waistcoat, dark green corduroy trousers, a green silk neckcloth. A flat nose, dark hair grizzling, ice-grey eyes, beside one of which, puckering it like an inefficient seamstress, ran a scar which made Ross’s look no more than a cat’s scratch. In place of his left hand was a steel hook more suitable to a butcher’s shop. ‘Dead I been –or near it –oft enough, but come up smiling. It’s been a long time. Thirteen –fourteen year?’ ‘Eighty-one,’ said Ross. ‘Thirteen. It seems a century. I knew only that you’d gone to sea. You’ve been away all this time?’ ‘Till last year. Then I lost this.’ He lifted his hook.

anonymous asked:

hi! i really love your au's so i was wondering if you could do a mckirk soulmate au where the soulmates cant see colors until they meet each other?? thank you if you do because this'll be great! i love your writing !!

  • The first time Jim’s world lights up, it’s blinding. He’s in the park and there’s a big party happening, which is fine, but suddenly all greys turn into lush greens and blue skies and it’s an instant headache. Jim doesn’t know how to deal with all these colors thrown at him at once and he’s just rubbing his eyes and blinking heavily to make sure this is actually happening. Though he’s not talking to anyone, and eye contact must have been brief, because the bright colours are starting to fade into greys again. Jim panics, rushing around the crowd in an attempt to find the one he’s looking for. That one person who’s supposed to make his life turn into color forever, not just for a few split seconds. But he can’t find them anymore, and he’s forced to move on. 
  • The second time Jim’s world lights up is two days later. Chekov’s dragging him to Sulu’s engagement party at their local bar because he doesn’t want to go alone. Jim’s just still hungover from two days of drinking in the park, and he’s really not feeling it. Sulu’s been engaged for literally three years, who throws an engagement party once a year? Sulu, that’s who. And Jim’s talking to a few people, and he’s taking it slow with the scotch, until a hand rests on his shoulder, a man slipping behind him and another stranger to get to the bar, and all that color is just back. The dark wooden interior, the greens of the cushions on the seats, the array of different colors in the liquor bottles. Jim spins around wildly, finding the other guy rubbing his eyes, too, and okay, Jim’s not losing his mind. And holy shit, this guy is gorgeous too. The way his lips pout when he frowns, his hair’s a mess and the smell of scotch is on his breath. And the other guy’s eyes are trained on Jim, and he’s taking his time checking him out and somehow that’s the hottest thing ever. “Jim,” Jim says, reaching out for the other’s hand. “Leonard. Were you at the park two days ago?” the other asks, and he still looks a bit baffled. “Yeah,” Jim replies, grin wider now that he knows for sure he wasn’t losing his mind back then. “So, do you want to get out of here and find some place quiet?” Jim asks, and Leonard laughs, taking his hand back and shaking his head. “I’m not just gonna go out and have sex with you. I don’t even know you.” 
  • He totally has sex with Jim. 
  • And he stays the next morning, making breakfast in Jim’s house, because Jim wakes up to the smell of coffee and bacon and honestly this is the best thing ever. Leonard’s in his kitchen in just his underwear, and he’s handing Jim a cup of coffee. “I gotta go  soon,” Leonard says. “I got this new job and I can’t be late.” “Okay,” Jim says, leaning against the counter and he watches Leonard prepare two plates of toast, scrambled egg and bacon. Jim wasn’t even aware he had these ingredients in the house, but okay. “We should see each other again soon,” Jim continues, sitting down at his dining table (which is a first. Who eats food at a dining table? That’s what a couch is for). “I want to take you out on an actual date. See some nature. Y’know, since we can actually see it in all its color now.” Leonard laughs. “You are so cheesy. Fine. Take me out on Saturday.”
  • Leonard leaves after breakfast. Jim takes his time getting dressed, watching the colors in his world fade ever so lightly when Leonard’s no longer near him. they remain faded, but never turn to grey, as he makes his way to his office and slumps down in his chair, on time for his conference meeting. “You were gone early yesterday,” Sulu says, nudging Jim’s shoulder, and Jim grins. “Yeah, I went to an afterparty in my bed-” “Too many details,” Sulu replies, tuning out almost immediately. 
  • Leonard’s his new boss. Jim watches the colors around him come blazing back to life when the door to the conference room opens and Leonard walks in - holy shit, he’s wearing a suit, too. And Jim groans under his breath because he’s slept with his boss, who looks far too good in formal attire. But hey, at least Leonard will go easy on him, because they’re soulmates.
  • Leonard doesn’t go easy on him. In fact, it’s the complete opposite. Somehow he makes Jim work harder than usual. He’s mean, he doesn’t approve of most of Jim’s ideas, he literally throws a ball of paper at his head when Jim’s slacking of for five minutes (okay, maybe closer to thirty minutes), and Jim’s a 100% sure this date is never gonna happen because Leonard is so hard on him. But then Leonard calls him into his office, closes the blinds, and he just pushes Jim up against the wall with a firm kiss and Jim breathlessly realizes that, fuck yes, Leonard’s his new boss, and the whole world is full of bright colors because of it.

Day Two: Summer Job (couldn’t resist some dilf!Eren so here we are)

Where Dreams Come True

Summary:
Based off of this prompt  “You’re dressed as my younger sibling’s favorite character at this theme park and they won’t leave you alone I’m so sorry!” (but daughter rather than sibling). It’s about 1.6k! 


If anyone ever found out about this then that was it: Levi’s life would be over.

And theirs too, just to make sure the information didn’t spread too far.

He’d been reluctant to take the job at Disneyland when he thought he was just going to be letting shitty brats on rollercoasters or cleaning toilets – but no: he wasn’t doing any of that. Levi Ackerman had to spend the summer dressed as Prince-fucking-Eric from The Little Mermaid. Apparently the usual guy had broken his leg and so the junior manager, Hanji, had decided that somehow with his perpetually pissed off expression, distinct undercut and short stature Levi was absolutely perfect to take on the role of the dashing prince.

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Forevermore ~Phan~

Oneshot. Dan is in love with Phil- that much is certain. They want to get married- that’s certain too. What’s less certain is whether or not somebody’s going to get slapped in the face with the bouquet. Hella Fluff ^_^

Rating K: Fluff but contains mild desciption of a panic attack.

Uhnonniemiss is back tell a friend x Please review to receive the secrets of the master skink.

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Imagine Sirius and Lily bonding over their sibling problems

This is an excerpt from my Jily fic Tell Me More


“Right,” Sirius said, pulling up a chair and sitting beside Lily. “Now that Prongs isn’t here, what’s wrong, Lilybean?”

               In answer, Lily held out Petunia’s letter, now crumpled and torn. Sirius smoothed the paper out and scanned the paragraph, his eyebrows furrowing together.            

               “Petunia’s your sister?” he asked when he had finished, handing Lily the letter.

               She nodded and stared at the writing. “She hates me,” Lily whispered, refusing to meet Sirius’ gaze. “And I didn’t do anything. She hates me because I’m different and because I wouldn’t give up magic to live at home.” 

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anonymous asked:

Have you ever analyzed Anna's clothing choices? I think that would be fun! Sorry if it's a duplicate ^^;

Ooh! I’ve been thinking about this for a long time… So here I go.

We all know that Anna and Kristoff’s waredrobe were supposed to compliment each other. Here is how.

Anna’a waredrobe is bright. It’s green. The color of spring, of hope and new beginnings. Very young.

When Anna goes in the mountains it turn Blue and Pink which are also bright colors, showing off her joy and personality.

Kristoff on the other hand has a darker clothing chice. it’s brown, grey, faded. Grumpy, like him.

WHat’s beautiful in my opinion is how these wardrobes end up at the end of the movie.

Anna is still green, but a little toned down. She’s grown. She had finally experienced teh world. She is still bright but not as innocent.

And Kristoff, he adds a splash of blue. Even though he wears blue at the very beginning, this is a softer blue…

Showing how Anna has finally brought out his true colors. 

Give it a try || Insatiablehopeforhumanity (close: Modern!AU)

His first date, a proper date, in half decade it’s with a Vampire

The car crosses fast the highway, thanks to the hour most of the paths are empty so his travel can be quite short.

As he eyes his own uniform, the black suit, coat, the dark blue shirt and the bolo tie shining over it he wonders briefly if it would be too formal for this date for the Vampire’s liking. 

He remembers how the other rushed this meeting, so he can also handle how he looks. 

He finally arrives to the forest outside the city, the trees filling his entire view and the cold wind hugging the figure of his car. It’s by pure luck it isn’t raining. 

He soon starts to see the village with the white houses and then, in the middle of them, the grey house where the Vampire is supposed to live. His car is about to arrive to the neighbour when a red light stops his car. 

He doesn’t notice the light when it turns green, the engine already taking the car to its destination and Erwin’s grin widens.

Finally.

For three days and three nights it had done nothing but rain… The sky had been washed away, the sea had vanished into the dense Scotch mist, the land had turned into a grey and green saturated sponge, and the hills were slipping down in sheets of horrible, slithery mud and stones, onto the lower ground.

Of course it had rained on most days of the year so far, but not usually with quite so much dogged determination - and this was supposed to be the height of summer, after all… Algy knew that there was no point looking for somewhere dry to perch, as there was not a dry spot left in the world, so far as he could see. So he plonked himself down disconsolately on the sodden grass, and watched as the puddles grew bigger and bigger and bigger…

Private Tutor

A/N: I am Satan reborn. 

Private Tutor // Teacher!Dean x Student!Reader

Words: 2276

Warnings: ***LIGHT SMUT***

Requests: So many requests for part two and I wasn’t gonna disappoint. ;) 

YOU CAN READ PART 1 HERE

– – – – – – – –

The tattered book Professor Winchester – Dean – had given you was warm in your hands as you clutched it tightly and you glanced around the coffee shop nervously as people came and went.

Ten minutes wasn’t really considered late, was it? But it seemed like a lifetime waiting for him.

You sighed loudly and ran a fingertip over the cursive letters of the title, eyes not even glancing up when the bell chimed above the door.

“Let’s see that essay, huh?” a familiar voice greeted you and your head snapped up to meet Dean’s gaze; he looked tired but happy as he draped his coat over the chair across from you, sitting down moments later with his hands flat on the table.

“You came,” you blurted out in surprise, blushing when you realized you’d said them without much thought behind it. Did you really think he was going to bail?

Maybe you did. After all, this was all really shocking to you still. He was your teacher and you were just a student. There had been a part of you that truly believed he was going to show up, even to get your extra credit from you, just because of the situation at hand. You still remembered the way he’d leaned in just enough to ghost his lips over yours. The touch still burned.

“Sorry for the wait. I got held up helping a student after class,” he explained, giving you a sweet smile. But that seemed to dampen your spirits and Dean seemed to see you visibly droop because he laughed loudly, his grin spreading widely over his face. “Not what you think,” he added.

If anything, your blush grew stronger and you could feel your entire face burning hot. Wordlessly, you rummaged through your bag and pulled out the crisp sheets of paper that made up your essay. It was several pages long and you’d worked hard on it, with Dean as your motivation.

His eyes widened as he flipped through the essay, eyes only turning back to you once he’d shuffled the papers back into place and laid them down neatly on the table.

“I was looking for maybe one or two pages. Five is very impressive,” he told you. His smirk was smug and barely there but it was enough to push butterflies around in your stomach. Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest as he skimmed over the words, an impressed nod coming every few seconds.

“Is it okay?” you asked meekly, and Dean looked up to grin at you again. You were glad you were sitting down; your knees were weak with the sight of him.

“It’s perfect,” he confirmed, then turned to the counter where the barista was. “But you know what would be even more perfect? Coffee. Do you want anything? It’s my treat.”

You shook your head and gave him a polite smile, tucking your lower lip between your teeth shyly as he made his way to take his order. When he came back to you, you were mildly surprised to find him holding two cups with him.

“I don’t know how you like your coffee so I got you some hot chocolate instead,” he admitted, and for the first time, he was the one being a little shy. You took this to your advantage and beamed at him like he’d been doing with you, satisfied with the redness in his ears from it.

“That’s fine. Thanks,” you whispered, holding the cup between your hands to warm them up. It was getting chilly outside, mostly because of the impending rainstorm that was supposed to hit within the hour, and you’d take all the warmth you could get.

Dean took a sip of coffee and wasted no time in getting down to business, nodding towards the book in front of you.

“Did you like it?” he asked you, a spark of hope lighting up in his eyes, so green against the bleak grey sky outside.

You nodded excitedly, finally feeling more at ease; though you hated English class, you loved to read, and this one had been especially lovely.

“It was wonderful,” you replied, hiding your smile behind your cup of hot chocolate.

“It’s my favorite,” Dean confessed, and turned his head when the sound of a few raindrops splattering against the window caught his attention.

“I can tell,” you teased, pressing your hand against his tattered copy. “I liked all the notes you’d scribbled in there. Helped me cheat my way through the essay.”

“You didn’t cheat,” Dean smiled, shaking his head at you. “I know you didn’t. You’re really smart, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

The rain had come lightly at first, but then it was pelting down onto the ground without mercy, and it was so loud that you were a little worried about going out there. Dean could see your concern and waved his hand in front of your face to get your attention again, raising his brows at you when you turned to look at him again.

“Will you be okay getting home?” he asked you, and you shrugged at his question.

“I walked here from my place and it’s not a long way,” you answered, but you were still hoping, still praying that Dean would maybe…

“I can take you come.” It wasn’t a suggestion, no questions about it; Dean had said it matter-of-factly and in such a way that you couldn’t even find it in you to argue with him. It was just what you’d wanted.

You tried, though, as weak as it was, to argue with him to make it seem less obvious that you’d wanted him to say that.

“I don’t want to keep you…” you began, but Dean shook his head and gave you a smile that made you want to melt into him.

“Don’t try and get out of it. You’re stuck,” he chuckled.

Stuck wasn’t how you’d want to describe it.

– – – – – –

The rain stuck to your clothes until you were sopping wet and you were drenched from head to toe before you’d even made it into Dean’s car.

“God, I’m so sorry,” you kept saying, wringing out your hair and giving Dean an apologetic gaze. “I’m getting your car all wet and it’s just—”

Dean cut you off, leaning across your seat to peck your lips softly, and it worked with shutting you up. You were speechless, even if the peck only lasted half a second, and your chest tightened in a wonderful way when you saw that smile again.

“We’re both soaked, Y/N. It’s water, water dries. You won’t ruin anything,” he assured you.

The heater was on full blast as he headed onto the road, away from the coffee shop, and you held your bag in your lap as you told him the general direction of your house.

It wasn’t until you ended up at a red light that it happened.

You were trying so hard not to stare at Dean, focusing instead on the storm outside, the way it blurred the windows and crashed down all around you. You didn’t even notice the tips of Dean’s fingers at first; they started at the hem of your flowery dress, playing with the fabric there, and then you felt them, felt them glide over the inside of your thigh, felt them squeeze just enough to grab all of your attention.

Dean’s fingers didn’t stop until he caught your eye, and then the pressure stopped and it seemed like he was going to pull away. He looked shy again, like he had in the coffee shop earlier, and he pursed his lips together as he looked at you.

“Is this…are we okay?” he asked you, his voice coarse. You blinked in surprise and felt your heart stop when his hand began drifting away from you. It had been an automatic reaction to cover his with your hand, your own fingers leading his back to where they’d been before.

“This is okay,” you assured him, watching him visibly relax. The both of you knew how different this situation was. But you didn’t want Dean thinking it was risky. Not with you.

His fingers teased you until you reached your street, trailing far up your inner thigh until you nearly moaned for him to keep going, and then trailing back down to rest on your knee. You didn’t need to look at Dean to know he had a shit-eating grin on his face. He knew what he was doing to you.

“So, this is your place?” he asked, pulling up towards your building. You nodded quickly but didn’t make a move, your hand merely on your seatbelt buckle. Your breath hitched in your throat when Dean started turning back onto the street, engine revving in excitement as he sped up. “It’s not too far from mine. Let me show you.”

His hand was spreading your thighs apart now and you were letting it happen without a fight. The only thing you did in response was lean your head back and clench your jaw to hold in the guttural groan in your throat when Dean finally rubbed up against your panties, and he was amused to see that the rain alone hadn’t soaked you.

He stopped in the driveway of a simple but very lovely townhouse but he still didn’t move away. The car was still on, the heater was still running even though it was starting to get unnecessary, and you were staring at Dean with such an intense look that it was even making him a little breathless.

“I’m nervous,” you said bluntly, and that seemed to break an unspoken tension that had settled between the two of you.

The corner of Dean’s lips lifted up in a comforting smile and he leaned in a little closer to you, using his free hand to cup your neck and pull you a little closer.

“Me too,” he admitted in a hushed whisper. “Do you want to stop?”

You shook your head without missing a beat and that was the end of it. You let yourself go, and Dean did too, and seconds later his lips were on yours, devouring you. It was nothing like the other kisses from before, the ones he’d used to toy with you. This kiss was real, breathless, and it made the world disappear.

Somehow you’d ended up on Dean’s lap, his hands now planted firmly on your hips, grasping and bunching up the fabric of your dress in his fists. It was surreal and your mind was getting hazier and hazier, and you only snapped out of it when your lower back pressed into the steering wheel and sounded the horn.

Both of you jumped and then giggled to each other, using it as an opportunity to catch your breath. But Dean was already helping you stumble out of the car and towards the inside of his home, and you followed him wordlessly.

It was a miracle you’d even made it to his living room but it was as far as you’d go. You tripped over your own feet and pulled Dean down with you as you fell onto the plush carpet, laughing with him into another heated kiss.

Your dress was bunched up around your hips now, revealing your panties, and Dean’s hand had found its way down between your legs again, toying with the waistband and only pushing the material down to the middle of your thighs.

The soft groan that escaped your lips was all the encouragement Dean needed before his fingers pressed against you in just the right way, and he sighed in content before moving his head down to leave a trail of hot kisses down your neck, his tongue flicking out to press against the place where your shoulder met your neck.

“Dean,” you whispered in pure bliss, but he lifted his head up to give you a smug look, a gleam in his eye as a finger pressed into your clit.

“I think what you meant was Professor Winchester,” he teased you quietly, and it only made you buck your hips up and nod in a daze.

Of course that’s what you meant.

Slowly, gradually, Dean peeled your drenched clothes off your body and you did the same with him, your fingers moving swiftly over buttons and zippers until he was bare and pressed up against you.

Every nerve in your body was on fire when your skin rubbed up against Dean’s and you hummed in delight, arching your back so you could press into him even more, leaving absolutely no space between the two of you. He was getting more aggressive, more confident with how to handle your body, but he still wouldn’t make any more moves.

“Please, professor,” you whimpered right into his ear, rolling your hips in just the right way. Dean’s eyes rolled back into his head and you shivered when he groaned, but he still wouldn’t let up.

“Not yet,” he told you, pinning you down against the floor. His eyes went wild when he saw you like that, though, in such a submissive position for him, but he shook his head and swallowed thickly. “Not yet. I want to know you first.”

It didn’t make any sense and yet it made perfect sense.

“Then get to know me,” you whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, as gentle as the first one he’d ever given you. “You can know everything about me.”

Dean smiled and moved to lay next to you, entangling his legs with yours. And that’s when you knew this was only the beginning. 

it is raining in that haphazard way april has,
and clouds are getting caught in my curls.
there’s a rainstorm in the hollow of my collarbone,
and my kneecaps have turned to puddles.

i am raining,
in that haphazard way april has.

my fingertips are branches, dripping. 
the ink in my eyes is running. 
i’m feeling bright in the way april clouds do:
sunlight that doesn’t want to hide anymore,
luminous grey.  

i’m raining like an afterthought, 
like spring came by accident this year:
i suppose winter’s over, i suppose it’s not summer just yet.
better slip some spring in there. here,
have some water. have some life.
remember to be green. remember how to grow.

the rain is rolling off my shoulders, 
beading on my skin, pooling in my bones. 
i’ve got rain to spare, plenty of life to share.
i’ve got water, i’ve got air, i’ve got clouds in my hair
and mud in my toes. i’m uncurling my spine;
it’s time to grow.

i’m raining like april, 
so i’ll have leaves to drink the sun when may comes.

—  for a bright grey week | n.m.h.
Meow (A closed Rp for Kevinvoiceinthewilderness)

Will yawns softly. It was warm, but wet. He didn’t really like having wet paws or have his black, grey, and ruddy fur be matted down by the wet. He wanted to explore the human world, even though as a prince, he wasn’t supposed to. He waited for the light to turn green at the crosswalk before crossing.

Title: Odds Are (We’re Gonna Be Alright)

Pairing: Michael/Gavin

Word Count: ~2,600

Rated: PG-13

Summary: Michael is really going to miss 636

A/N: Named for the Barenaked Ladies song “Odds Are”. This is completely self-indulgent. Basically my own sad feelings about the new office as expressed by Michael. Obviously a lot of artistic license was taken with the new office layout as I have no idea what it’s going to look like. Also this is so cheesy omg

-

Monday

It was just a building, Michael reminded himself as he forcibly directed the car past the usual turning, so ingrained in his psyche that he his hand had been halfway to the turning signal before he remembered. And not even that great a building. It had been impractical and cramped. A labyrinth of rooms that connected at odd places, a building in two halves that meant you had to cross the car park if you wanted to use the microwave. The AH office was an overcrowded mess of machines and bodies that reached alarming temperatures in the warm weather and meant you couldn’t walk two steps with treading on something or someone. Half the team had even been in a separate location, several doors down. And yet. It had been home.

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