it's not exactly a lie

au for @everythingelsegoesherethen: dean winchester owns the marauders’ map and uses it to make sure he and castiel always ‘accidentally’ meet at strange times.

Since he became a Prefect at the beginning of his fifth year, Castiel Novak has dealt with a lot of troublemakers who clearly just haven’t read the Hogwarts rulebook.

Dean Winchester is not one of these.

Dean Winchester is clever. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s read the handbook and

And he never, ever gets caught.

Which is why Castiel is confused when he apprehends Dean for the third time in a month, trying unsuccessfully to get into a secret passage out of the school that Cas /knows he knows exactly how to access. And yet he’s tapping all over the one-eyes witch with his wand, cluelessly trying every combination of “Let me in!” that he can, acting for all the world as though he’s under some kind of Confundus charm.

He turns the light of his wand on Dean, and Dean turns around, doing a very good job of pretending to be startled.

“Dean Winchester?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” the boy grins, blushing and looking down at the floor but not seeming at all upset that he’s just been caught breaking five school rules at once.

“Yes, well, you’re out of bed after lights out, you’re messing with school property and you’re using magic in the corridors.” Cas is a little flustered and he can’t even explain why, but he still manages to tick at least some of the offenses off on his fingers.

“I /am? Oh, man, Cas, I’m so sorry. And I promise you it won’t happen again.” Dean is all mock-apologetic as he claps Cas on the shoulder and starts to walk away down the corridor.

“F-five points from Gryffindor!” Cas calls after him in a shaky voice.

This becomes a recurring problem. The following week, Cas runs into Dean in the restricted section of the library without a note giving him permission to be there. A few days later, he catches Dean in the act when he’s just about to set off a whole box of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes fireworks. Another time, he finds Dean on the Quidditch pitch after dark when it’s supposed to be locked up, flying loops just to show off. Sometime after that, Cas goes to take a bath in the Prefects’ bathroom at the end of a long day, and he finds the tub already overflowing with bubbles, Dean in a pair of red swimming shorts lazily swimming laps.

And for some reason it’s always harder for Cas to keep his cool around Dean that it is around anyone else. Usually he’ll dole out detentions without even blinking;the whole school respecting his authority, but something about this kid has him barely remembering the name of the red and gold house that he’s supposed to be taking points from. It /irks him, because he was given the Prefect position for a /reason, and he’s supposed to be unbiased and impartial and above such things.

After all this has been going on for a good few months, and Cas is no closer to figuring out what exactly is going on in Dean Winchester’s unfairly pretty head, he finds a piece of parchment on the floor. It’s on his normal patrol route, but not on a main corridor - it’s on one of the back routes that only Cas is responsible for walking down on his shift after lights out. It’s placed right in the middle of the corridor where Cas is guaranteed to see it. Almost as though it was left especially for him.

He picks it up. It looks blank at first, but when he unfolds it, he sees that it’s a map - an incredibly detailed map of the whole of Hogwarts castle, every room drawn, Cas believes, perfectly to scale, labelled in calligraphy, every secret passage and hidden entryway marked. Not only that, but the map is enchanted, constantly moving, staircases twisting their way through the halls in what Cas suspects is real time, and most importantly of all, tiny sets of footprints making their way through the castle halls, each with a name attached to them. Cas spots his own name next to his own footprints, which are still in the exact spot that he’s in.

He takes a step forward, and the footprints move with him.

Most of the spots are clustered in the common rooms and dormitories at this time of night; just a few Prefects and professors wandering up and down the corridors. But Cas has a sneaking suspicion he knows who this map belongs to, and the person doesn’t seem to be in the Gryffindor boys’ dormitories where he should be. Against his will, Cas finds his eyes skating over the map, looking for the potential offender.

Dean Winchester’s spot is pacing the Tallest Astronomy Tower.

Of course, none of this necessarily means that the map /actually corresponds to where people actually are. It could just be an example. Could be everyone is placed randomly and doesn’t move, no matter where they really are.

Which, of course, explains why Cas is already walking purposefully towards the Astronomy tower, taking each set of stairs two at a time, checking the map every few seconds to make sure Dean is still in the same place.

He reaches the door to the tower, and he’s not even completely conscious of why he’s doing it, but he runs a hand through his hair to fluff it up and he straightens his blue and bronze tie before he walks inside.

Dean’s there, as predicted, no longer pacing but standing in the center of the room - waiting for him? The tower is open to the heavens - not like the Great Hall, not like an enchanted version of the sky, but actually open, the summer night stars glinting down and reflecting off of magical lights that have been conjured and left to hover all around the edge of the circular tower room, a light breeze ruffling Cas’ robes as he steps towards Dean, noticing that the usually bare wooden floor is scattered with large, puffy gold and bronze cushions.

Cas holds out the map. “I think this is yours.”

Dean takes it from him, not at all surprised to see Cas there. “Don’t think it’s really anyone’s. Thing kind of has a mind of its own. But yes, I’ve been using it for a while.”

“Tell me something?” Cas asks. “You just admitted this is yours. With this you can see anyone coming at any time, you can always stay one step ahead of any professor or prefect, you never have to get found out by anyone. But you keep letting me catch you. Why?“

"That depends,” Dean says with a smirk. “Why’d you bring the map back instead of handing it into a professor? Seems like it’s a contraband object. Seems like I /should get in trouble.”

Cas opened his mouth to retort to that, but realized he didn’t have anything to say. Why /had he come here? Dean was right, after all. His first instinct, as a Prefect with designs on Head Boy at some point in the future, should have been to turn the object over to a member of staff. His mind shouldn’t even necessarily have jumped to Dean. But it had, and now he was here.

“Alright. That aside, why’d you wait for me? Why’d you pick a specific place, here, that you have /no reason to be and just pace around hoping I’d show up to find you?”

Dean spluttered, but quickly recovered. “Why’d you look for me on the map? Why’d you stare at it for so long that you saw where I was in the first place?”

“Why’d you decorate? The stars, the lights, the cushions? Why’d you set this all up for a special occasion?”

They stared at each other for a while, breathing heavily, waiting for the other one to be the first to break.

Cas cracked, and Dean gave up at the same moment, and then he both of them were lunging towards each other, Dean grabbing Cas by the tie he’d just straightened, pulling it askew, Cas fisting both of his hands in Dean’s robes, both yanking the other towards them, crashing their lips together so hard that it was almost painful when they met, their bodies falling into each other, their teeth clashing and their noses bumping and when they pull apart, they both tumble down onto the pile of cushions they’ve set up and /now Cas understands why they’re there, /now it makes sense because their landing is soft and they can reach for each other again immediately, both of them lying on their sides in the heap of fluffy pillows, kissing each other over and over and over again, each one making their lips tingle. Over time, as they grow used to the feeling, the kisses become slower, softer, more languid, and the hooded eyes when they pull away from each other are less from desire and more from tiredness, and they’re both sure they’d be happy to sleep here.

"So, what? You’ve been risking detention and house points for Gryffindor and your reputation as someone who never gets caught just to… just to get my attention?” Cas asks finally, propping himself up on one elbow.

Dean tugs him back down and kisses him again. “Well, you’re risking your Prefect position right now. But I feel like you always have to risk a little something to get the best things in life.”

And between holding hands on long walks by the lake, between screaming themselves hoarse together at Quidditch matches, between feeding each other Bertie Botts’ Every Flavour Beans while studying in the library, and between many, many more long nights in the Astronomy tower, Cas learns that as frustrating and complicated as he is; Dean is definitely one of the best things in his life.

Secrets & Betrayal - Part 3 (Requested)

Note: I had never planned to do another part to this (which had originally started off as a request) but when you guys ask you shall receive so here is Part 3! I actually think there will be 1 or 2 more parts to this before it ends. Not sure if this part is heading towards what you guys thought it would but I had fun with this so I hope you do reading it :)

Peter Pan x Reader

Words: 1957

Warnings: Some controlling behaviour, sadness, and sexual attention (not always wanted).

Originally posted by pan-imagines

It has been three weeks since Killian left you here. Twenty-one long days in which you felt like your heart had been ripped from your body. You are empty, a shell of who you once were, the boys know it…..Pan knows it. But that doesn’t stop him from visiting you on a nightly basis. It’s like you have become his pet. You are no longer a person. You know it’s a punishment for what you had allowed yourself to get into with Killian but that doesn’t make any of this easier.

Your appetite was the first thing to go and after four days straight of having nothing to eat Pan started to sit with you until you did. It wasn’t a gesture of kindness though, he was incapable of such a trait, it was all down to the fact that he needed you to have some kind of energy….it took a further three days of defiance but eventually you gave him when you grew tired of him constantly being by your side. His sharp green eyes boring into yours the whole time that he was sat there.

He is looking at you even now as you place a small piece of bread into your mouth. It sickens you to your stomach but, ironically, it wasn’t him you hated. Not right now anyway. There is only one that you felt such a negative emotion towards and it was the very person who had left you here in the first place. The one you thought loved you.

Keep reading

Thea Cavey, standing at a meager 4′10″ tall, wandered around the empty hallways ringing an obnoxiously loud golden hand bell as she went. After a fair amount of said ringing had gone by, and un-content with the lack of attention it was garnering, the pixie sighed in defeat. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a damned glass of milk around here, huh?”

Turns out, Thea had ran out of milk in her apartment and was trying everything to avoid going to the store to buy more.

Just got Bucky in my mail, no biggie ;u;

The wonderful and my dear friend PM has send me this artwork of Bucky and I squeed so loud that I scared my cat, bUT LOOK AT THIS OMG ;u; I had send her a little something because she wasn’t feeling very well and then she send me this as a thank you ajhsjd hOW AM I EVER GOING TO SURVIVE AN ARTWORK LIKE THIS?! LOOK AT HOW BIG AND GORGEOUS IT IS!! ;u;

Thank you so much, you precious human you. I’m so blessed to know you and call you my friend and cry to you about life and Bucky and especially hurt!Bucky. You’re absolutely amazing and I love you a lot <33

anonymous asked:

Your "i don't understand why its so erotic" tag is a lie. You know exactly why it's so erotic when Harry whistles--> It's bc of the way his lips look all plump and his cheeks pull in, like he's sucking really hard on... something. #like a 🍭 #or an 🍆

see, see, you gotta read the tags in order. nothing about #this interview is peak harry #and I don’t understand why it’s so erotic suggests that I am blind to the suggestive potential of Harry’s pursed lips. Rather, what I do not understand is why listening to molasses-voiced Harry Styles ramble his way unproductively around a question like a moose lost in a knee-high hedge maze is in any way erotic.          

So Let Me Get This Straight...
  • Mass Media: Let us tell stories about men! Written by men! For men! Manly!
  • Women: ...We'd like to hear a story about women.
  • Mass Media: No no no no no. MEN will never want to hear that! ALL the stories shall be about men.
  • Women: What about us?
  • Mass Media: Women also like the stories about men! See, they're watching and reading them.
  • Women: ...that's because there's nothing else to watch and read.
  • Mass Media: I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of all of this men. Tell you what. We'll let you make this woman story as an experiment and see what happens.
  • Women: Oh, okay, cool. We'll just go write that!
  • Mass Media: (meanwhile) REMEMBER MEN, LIKING LADY THINGS IS A CAUSE FOR RIDICULE. LADY THINGS ARE BAD. UNLESS THEY'RE AROUND FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE, THEN IT'S OKAY. REMEMBER TO MAN YOUR MANLY M-- oh, are you done?
  • Women: Yes. Here you go.
  • Mass Media: Here, Men, what do you think of this Lady Thing?
  • Men: Wait, aren't Lady Things supposed to be really silly? Let's not see this. People will laugh at us.
  • Mass Media: There, you see? Men didn't like the Lady Thing. Now go back into your corner and enjoy the manly stories for men.
  • Women: ....
  • Mass Media: Look, we'd love to help you, but we have a business to run, and we just so happen to have a pie chart right here that shows that most of our income comes from Manly Things.
  • Women: That's because, like, 99% of your offerings are Manly Things.
  • Mass Media: Yes, exactly. See, it's just business. Numbers don't lie. Wow, you're surprisingly good at math for ladies.
  • Women: ...
  • Mass Media: We don't know what's wrong with you. They're good stories.
  • Women: Yes, but it's all one kind of story! We love these characters and this setting, but want you to make the stories that WE want to hear some of the time.
  • Mass Media: But then we'd alienate the men! If you want these kinds of stories so much, why don't you tell them?
  • Women: ...fine. *go off and tell the stories they want to hear, share them with each other.*
  • Mass Media: Pffff. Look at those silly women! Off writing their "fanfics". What a silly thing to do! Pssh, *ladies,* amirite guys?
  • Man: *writes what is essentially fanfic, gets published and lauded for insightful commentary on pop culture*
  • Woman: *writes an original story, gets lambasted for ripping off pop culture because she wrote completely unrelated fanfic once.*
  • Women: ....
  • Mass Media: *pats consolingly* There, there. Look, we've listened to you. Here's a sexy lamp... I mean lady... in this thing we just made! Sure, she doesn't have any lines other than "Go Dude McManlypants, I believe in you!" and is wearing a bikini in the snow, but she's a Strong Independent Woman Who Don't Need No Man. Except when Dude McManlypants wins her at the end of the story. That's what you wanted, right?
  • Women: ....*collectively facepalm*