lace up leather boots

cocked & loaded [dwayne johnson/vin diesel]

okay, so if i were to write the academy award-winning and world peace-establishing screenplay where Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson and Vin Diesel slowly fall in love, this is what it would look like:

  • vin and dwayne would be bitter Rival Agents for an intelligence agency. both would be up for a Big Promotion.  they would both be working together (but against each other) on something something black market mafia.  the mafia would be involved.  they would be VERY CLOSE to cracking this case.  
  • whoever cracks the case gets the promotion! because things like this are always very clear-cut in movies.  and whoever gets the promotion is the Better Agent, and it’s settled forever.
  • what they don’t expect is when they finally go in to make the Big Bust on The Family is that the Big Players will still be at large–and there will be a BABY.  
  • the baby will fall into agency custody, and will require surveillance in a remote safehouse.
  • “i need YOU TWO to pretend and be this baby’s GAY DADS to protect the baby and keep The Family off our tail while we close in on them,” says Head Intelligence Captain Lupita Nyong’o.  
  • dwayne and vin and baby are begrudgingly moved to a suburb of provincetown, massachusetts. cut to shot of a FOR SALE sign being pulled down, a ford fusion hybrid pulling up behind a moving van.  dwayne and vin step out.  they are both wearing muscle shirts and mirror-lensed aviators.  dwayne grabs a baby bag, throws it over his shoulder.  vin grabs the car seat out of the back, and both of them walk-slow motion up the side walk to their new 800k beach house.  
  • here’s what they expect: passive aggressive co-existence for a couple of weeks, where they try to be the Better Dad in a bid for the promotion they both want.  dwayne will go jogging with the baby every morning!! vin will wear her in a sling when he goes to the farmer’s market and smiles at the vendors while feeling up avocados and selecting fresh caught filets of fish!! 
  • here’s what they don’t expect: their next door neighbors are going to be Channing Tatum and Idris Elba and their five beautiful, interracial babies.  they are the perfect Gay Family, but “also,” dwayne says, pushing vin inside from where he’s been grilling steaks and drinking MILLER out of a CAN in broad daylight for the Real Gay Family to see and call over from their patio!!! “these guys are the REAL DEAL.  they’re gonna know something’s up!  i know we’ve had our beef, but we gotta step our game up and work together if we’re gonna make this operation work.”  
  • “you’re right,” vin says.  he’s nodding, looking at a ground, but then up and meeting dwayne’s gaze. “you’re RIGHT.” they’re gonna make this partnership work!!! they are going to be the BEST GAY DADS.
    • CUT TO: vin and dwayne staring at the king sized mattress in the master bedroom.  “i can just–” vin says, but dwayne grabs him by the shoulder and shakes it playfully.  “no man,” he says. “it’s all in or nothing.” 
    • CUT TO: them jogging together with baby playfully squealing from her stroller early in the morning.  
    • CUT TO: vin playfully feeding dwayne grapes at the farmer’s market.  “it’s all or nothing,” he repeats, raising his eyebrows (???? eyebrow folds? idk man). dwayne rolls his eyes and TAKES THE BITE.  
  • CUT TO: channing tatum in monogrammed shorts and pink polo and boat shoes on their front door step with one of his many perfect, precious toddlers on his shoulders, asking them to dinner.  “uh yeah,” dwayne says, cool as a cucumber. he’s not freaking out (he’s totally freaking out!!).  “we’ll bring the wine.”
  • “we’ll bring the wine?” vin repeats, in a hushed voice so the neighbors and baby don’t hear them fighting. “do you know anything about wine? they probably have a second house in france!  i haven’t had anything that didn’t come from a box since–since ever! what were you thinking?” “i panicked!  it seemed like the right thing to say!” 
    • TIRES SCREECH as the ford focus hybrid drifts into the whole foods parking lot.  
  • they show up out of breath, foreheads glistening, with baby in her favorite babybjorn, feet kicking from the day’s excitement of wine shopping.  vin, wheezing, passes a bottle of red and a bottle of white.
    • “oh, a chateau coutet barsac,” idris says with a chuckle, showing the label to channing. “remember that time–?” and oh my GOD, they have inside jokes!! 
    • (”we don’t have any inside jokes!!” dwayne whispers when they immediately excuse themselves halfway through a tour of the house. “that’s because you are the least funny person i know!” vin replies. “god, i hate you!!!” they both probably hiss at each other.)
  • the worst and best part of the night is when they’re serving the roast veg salad, and channing says with the best intentions, “so, how did you two meet?”
    • “uh,” vin says.
    • “the gym,” dwayne says. which, actually turns out to be true.  they look at each other, smile soft and genuine for once at each other, REMEMBERING. before they were BITTER RIVALS, they met at the academy gym and were GYM BUDDIES.  they used to have FUN trying to beat each other’s PR on the treadmill, they used to LOVE shit talking each other when they spotted each other bench pressing, they used to snap towels at each other’s asses in the locker room and totally not check each other out or anything!!! and then they were both accepted to the same position at work and they stopped being friendly for whatever reason.  they stop smiling, they look away from each other.  “anyway.”
    • “we met building houses for habitat for humanity,” idris offers, because of COURSE THEY DID.
  • the second worst part of the night is when channing mentions during the dessert course that two weeks from now is the annual May Day Homeowner’s Neighborhood Block Party Crab Cookoff, and maybe dwayne and vin would like to host to get to know everyone else in the neighborhood! 
  • vin has had like, three more glasses of wine than everyone else, and with aid of liquid confidence, shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his chair and says, “yeah, man, we’d love to.”
    • “’yeah, man, we’d love to?’” dwayne repeats when they’re walking home, baby asleep in her bjorn. 
    • “sorry, did you want me to give ourselves away? what happened to being the best? we’re trying to be believable!” 
    • “yeah,” dwayne says, watching vin strip off his shirt and pants and toss them over his shoulder into their spare hamper before crawling into their bed.  it’s routine.  they both have their sides of the bed.  “believable.”
    • the bedroom is quiet as they face away from each other at the edges of the mattress.  eventually dwayne asks, “do you remember why we stopped being friends?”
    • for a second he thinks maybe vin’s gone to sleep.  but he turns over.  “no,” he says.  “or yeah, maybe. as soon as i realized we would both be seeing action, it became too much of a risk.  friendship.  it was easier to lose you as a friend on my terms than lose you as a friend because you got your dumbass killed.”
    • they decide to be friends again.  you know, for the baby.  for work. whatever.  
  • they get so caught up in planning the May Day Homeowner’s Neighborhood Block Party Crab Cookoff, making inside jokes and ignoring the increasing casual physical intimacy between them that they don’t realize they are BEING WATCHED.
  • the mafia is HERE and they want their BABY and they want dwayne and vin DEAD.  
  • the M.D.H.N.B.P.C.C happens and everything is going according to plan, and they are about to have dwayne judge the bisque portion of the competition, but no one has seen dwayne anywhere!!!!
  • are there warehouses in provincetown??? is there a bad part of provincetown??? anyways, that’s probably where the mafia took dwayne.  vin is FREAKING OUT, how does he save dwayne??? how does he protect the baby, who they are using dwayne as ransom for??? who will judge the bisque portion of the crab cookoff???
  • idris puts a hand on his shoulder.  he’s been watching the entire time.  “i’ll take the baby into our panic room–” OF COURSE THEY HAVE A PANIC ROOM, “and channing will judge the bisque portion of the crab cookofff.  you go save your man.”
  • CUT TO: vin getting geared up to go out and kick some mafia ass, entering their walk-in closet and grabbing GUNS and a BULLET PROOF VEST and lacing up his L.L BEAN MEN’S GORETEX LEATHER BOOTS.  
  • vin takes out the entire warehouse-or-whatever of mafia lackeys and comes across dwayne tied up and blindfolded.
  • “who’s there!” dwayne demands, like he’s ready to fight despite himself.  vin takes three strong steps forward and grabs him by the back of the head and pulls him in for a kiss.  “guess who,” he replies.  dwayne smiles.
  • just then the Final Boss shows up as dwayne is being untied and like, something dramatic happens or whatever, but it’s okay.  they die or go to jail or something, it doesn’t really matter, because dwayne and vin are in LOVE and they’re gonna adopt the hell out of that baby.
  • CUT TO: a month later.  Head Intelligence Captain Lupita Nyong’o is disappointed when vin won’t accept his promotion.  
  • “i would,” he says, heavily decorated for saving dwayne in the field and taking down the mafia family.  “but the code of conduct says that it would be a conflict of interest if i was my husband’s supervisor.” BAM! THE END.  THEY’RE MARRIED.  WORLD PEACE UNLOCKED.   DONALD TRUMP IMPEACHED.  EVERYONE LIVES HAPPILY EVER AFTER.
hogwarts houses & autumn aesthetics

gryffindor. oversized jumpers; roasting marshmallows over a crackling fire; laughing hysterically while pumpkin carving; the smell of cinnamon and baking; playing in puddles with bright gumboots; hair blowing wildly in the wind; cute beanies with pom poms; warm, rosy cheeks; burning your tongue when you sip a hot drink too quickly; early morning runs; worn, flannel shirts; pretending to be a dragon with clouds of warm breath in the cold air

hufflepuff. long, woollen socks; vanilla-scented candles; a warm blanket over your shoulders; jumping into a pile of autumn leaves; fluffy earmuffs; creamy hot chocolate with whipped cream on top; hanging fairylights everywhere; playing with your pet on a warm rug; thick mittens; a warm bath to relax after a long day; the crunching of leaves underfoot; capturing the image of dancing leaves with a vintage camera

ravenclaw. people-watching through foggy windows in cafés; reading a favourite book by candlelight; long, thick scarves; staying up late to play board games; wandering aimlessly under falling leaves; oversized, knitted cardigans; muted sunlight filtered through autumn leaves; late nights binging on netflix; a chilly wind freezing the tip of your nose; scribbling in notebooks under overcast skies; the natural silence of the woods; the dancing tendrils of steam from a mug of hot tea

slytherin. cold and misty mornings; warming your hands on a mug of hot coffee; dark lip colours; the dance of walking barefoot across a cold floor; stylish, long overcoats; falling asleep to the pattering of rain on the window; meandering wooded roads; lace-up leather boots; the flickering of candlelight in the dark; lying on a tartan blanket while listening to music through headphones; burying yourself in soft, warm blankets at the end of the day

Crybaby

Summary: You’re the one who is always picked on, almost every day, and you’re so sick and tired of it. Nobody helps you, until one fateful day. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (ALTERNATE UNIVERSE)

Word Count: 3,109 Words

Warnings: Bullying, fluff, angst, a bit of violence and gore, sappiness 

A.N: I’m always one for women standing up for themselves, but this idea just came to me and some standing up happens in the end. I swear I normally don’t like ‘damsels in distress’ but this story just happens to have a reader character a bit like that. Sorry. 

You hate life. Specifically, you hate school. No, it isn’t all those tests and assignments that teachers wanted you to do all the time, because despite those being an absolute pain, it definitely isn’t the worst thing you endured. You’re actually a reasonably smart person, and you find classes relatively easy. However, outside of classes…things are pretty terrible.

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Why the Signs love Fall & Cold Weather

Aries: Hair blowing wildly in the wind; walking barefoot across a cold floor; lace-up leather boots, trudging down damp country lanes full of puddles.
Taurus: The smell of cinnamon and baking; rosy cheeks; a warm blanket over your shoulders; late nights binging on netflix.
Gemini: Playing in puddles with bright gumboots; reading a favourite book by candlelight; scribbling in notebooks under overcast skies.
Cancer: Oversized jumpers; creamy hot chocolate with whipped cream on top; fluffy earmuffs; a chilly wind freezing the tip of your nose.
Leo: The colour orange everywhere; early morning runs; stylish overcoats; jumping into a pile of autumn leaves.
Virgo: Watching the street through foggy windows in cafés; vanilla-scented candles; the dancing tendrils of steam from a mug of hot tea.
Libra: Hanging fairylights everywhere; flannel shirts; capturing the image of dancing leaves with a vintage camera; falling asleep to the sound of the rain.
Scorpio: The crunching of leaves underfoot; muted sunlight filtered through autumn leaves; the flickering of candlelight in the dark; halloween.
Sagittarius: Roasting marshmallows over a crackling fire;  staying up late to play board games; meandering wooded roads.
Capricorn: A warm bath to relax after a long day; thick mittens; the natural silence of the woods; dark lip colours; the right amount of blankets in bed.
Aquarius: Wandering aimlessly under falling leaves; warming your hands on a mug; being a dragon with clouds of warm breath in the cold air.
Pisces: Cute beanies with pom poms; playing with your pet on a warm rug; lying on a tartan blanket while listening to music through headphones.

  • Director: I'm making ahistorical film about a strong independent woman who doesn't take crap and I need you to design her costumes
  • Costume Designer: Oh, cool, heck yeah, what era?
  • Director: I WANT HER TO WEAR A LEATHER CORSET AND LEATHER, LACE UP THIGH HIGH HEELED BOOTS AND SHE HAS TO HAVE A HIGH LOW HEM DRESS THAT'S HIKED UP TO HER THIGHS AND HER BOOBS NEED TO BE HANGING HALF OUT. RUFFLES.
  • Costume Designer: Wait- wh-
  • Director: KEEP HER HAIR DOWN LONG AND UNCOVERED. WE NEED TO CONVEY TO THE AUDIENCE THAT SHE IS SEXY AND INDEPENDENT AND MODERN.
  • Costume DesigneR: but-
  • Director: MAKE IT SEXY.
The Recruit (Chapter 5) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 20″

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Stan Hurley, Rob Russells, Dan Brunski, Peter Collins, Jacob Clemens  & Reader

Warnings: Sexual assault, attempted rape, graphic depiction of violence. I’m sorry.

A.N.: I did not intend to go this direction when I started this, like Mitch and Y/N have enough problems without this shit happening, but it’s just where the story took me.

Summary: Mitch returns from the Ghost camp and has a run in with Y/N that changes the nature of his relationship with her, and sets them on a path that they cannot come back from.

Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

Originally posted by stydiaislove


The morning of Day 16, Mitch was whisked away to an underground bunker away from The Barn to begin his real training in Stan’s Ghost Protocol Program for the Orion Team. He spent two days in a dark basement with other men and women that he didn’t know, taking tests, wearing virtual reality goggles, and expertly completing his tasks. He excelled on every level and at every test. They gave him aptitude, IQ and logic tests, had a psychiatrist evaluate him, ran physicals and stress tests. All which he passed with flying colors.

The afternoon of Day 19, Mitch was walking back from lunch and was hooded. Mitch took down the two guys with ease, and pulled the black shroud from over his face.

“You know, how I know that he’s not cut out for this shit, Irene? He shouldn’t have even allowed them to hood him in the first place. He should’ve sensed them behind him.” Stan said, watching the abduction try to take place over a closed circuit TV.

Irene watched as three more men, and one of the ones that Mitch had already put down, fought with the young man in hand-to-hand combat, finally subduing him. She rolled the tape back and watched the encounter over again. She paused the recording at the moment the first two men entered the hallway behind Mitch. 

“Look…” She pointed at the tilt of his head. “He knew they were there.” Stan leaned forward as she played the rest of the tape again.

“He let them take him.”

“He’s ready, Stan.”

“Actually, Irene, he’s not ready, but he will be.” Stan told Irene, as he walked out the door and slipped into a room across the hall, where a hooded Mitch sat, tied to a metal chair being waterboarded.


The evening of Day 19, Mitch was returned back to The Barn, where more intense training began. The group of twenty, under Stan’s supervision, spent ten hours each day learning interrogation techniques, tradecraft, the deadliest aspects of all hand-to-hand combat styles and marksmanship.

On Day 20, Mitch woke up to the sound of a loud thud against his door. He immediately got up and opened it, to see Dan’s body splayed about on the ground, blood coming from his lip, and you, who he hadn’t seen in days, standing in your doorway with your chest heaving.

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  • Sansa already looked her best. She had brushed out her long auburn hair until it shone, and picked her nicest blue silks.
  • Sansa was dressed beautifully that day, in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair, and she knew they were looking at her and smiling.

  • “You have juice on your face, Your Grace,” Arya said.It was running down her nose and stinging her eyes. Sansa wiped it away with a napkin. When she saw what the fruit in her lap had done to her beautiful ivory silk dress, she shrieked again. “You’re horrible,” she screamed at her sister. “They should have killed you instead of Lady!”

  • She chose a simple dress of dark grey wool, plainly cut but richly embroidered around the collar and sleeves. Her fingers felt thick and clumsy as she struggled with the silver fastenings without the benefit of servants. 

  • She was dressed in mourning, as a sign of respect for the dead king, but she had taken special care to make herself beautiful. Her gown was the ivory silk that the queen had given her, the one Arya had ruined, but she’d had them dye it black and you couldn’t see the stain at all. She had fretted over her jewelry for hours and finally decided upon the elegant simplicity of a plain silver chain.

  • “Her Grace said to me that you are a woman now, and should not dress like a little girl. Hold out your arm."Sansa lifted her arm. She needed a new gown, that was true. She had grown three inches in the past year, and most of her old wardrobe had been ruined by the smoke when she’d tried to burn her mattress on the day of her first flowering

  • The smallclothes were all silk, but the gown itself was ivory samite and cloth-of-silver, and lined with silvery satin. The points of the long dagged sleeves almost touched the ground when she lowered her arms. And it was a woman’s gown, not a little girl’s, there was no doubt of that. The bodice was slashed in front almost to her belly, the deep vee covered over with a panel of ornate Myrish lace in dove-grey. The skirts were long and full, the waist so tight that Sansa had to hold her breath as they laced her into it. They brought her new shoes as well, slippers of soft grey doeskin that hugged her feet like lovers. 

  • Dress warmly, Ser Dontos had told her, and dress dark. She had no blacks, so she chose a dress of thick brown wool. The bodice was decorated with freshwater pearls, though. The cloak will cover them. The cloak was a deep green, with a large hood. 

  • Littlefinger pointed out a cedar chest under the porthole. "You’ll find fresh garb within. Dresses, smallclothes, warm stockings, a cloak. Wool and linen only, I fear. Unworthy of a maid so beautiful, but they’ll serve to keep you dry and clean until we can find you something finer."He had this all prepared for me. 

  • She donned silken smallclothes and a linen shift, and over that a warm dress of blue lambswool. Two pairs of hose for her legs, boots that laced up to her knees, heavy leather gloves, and finally a hooded cloak of soft white fox fur.

  • There was a gown of purple silk that gave her pause, and another of dark blue velvet slashed with silver that would have woken all the color in her eyes, but in the end she remembered that Alayne was after all a bastard, and must not presume to dress above her station. The dress she picked was lambswool, dark brown and simply cut, with leaves and vines embroidered around the bodice, sleeves, and hem in golden thread. It was modest and becoming, though scarce richer than something a serving girl might wear. Petyr had given her all of Lady Lysa’s jewels as well, and she tried on several necklaces, but they all seemed ostentatious. In the end she chose a simple velvet ribbon in autumn gold. 

  • All of Lady Lysa’s silks and samites were to be left behind. Her sheerest linens and plushest velvets, the rich embroidery and fine Myrish lace; all would remain. Down below, Alayne must dress modestly, as befit a girl of modest birth. It makes no matter, she told herself. I dared not wear the best clothes even here.

  • Nor did Petyr choose to explain. Instead, he smiled and said, "I have brought my sweet girl back a gift."Alayne was as pleased as she was surprised. "Is it a gown?” She had heard there were fine seamstresses in Gulltown, and she was so tired of dressing drably.
-Sansa and fashion

Club Soda and Whiskey

Characters:  Dean x reader, Sam

Summary:  Dean meets reader at a rock show.

Word Count:  3317

Warnings:  Language, sex, slightly angsty 

As aways, feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Tags are at the bottom. There is still room on my new Forever Tag list! Add yourself here

Originally posted by bringmesomepie56

Club Soda and Whiskey

Sipping your drink, you sit on the stool at the bar. As far as venues go, this one isn’t too bad. It smells of beer, but not in a funky, sweaty man and stale cigarette kind of way. It’s not smoky and the crowd seems cool. The band has played in far worse conditions. Like that time at that dive bar in LA. That was a night that you’d never forget. A biker gang had decided the middle of the set would be the perfect time for an all out brawl. One thing was for sure, there was never a dull moment to be had.

You fiddle with the slice of lime garnishing the rim of your glass while you watch the crowd. A tall, handsome man threads his way through the crowd. He’s rugged and sexy, broad shouldered. You notice by his gait that he’s bow-legged. He sidles up next to you at the bar and gives you a broad grin. Damn, he’s one good-looking son of a bitch. Probably a total douche, though. Most of the guys you meet in these clubs are.

Lifting a finger to the bartender, the man says smoothly, “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

You stifle a giggle as the bartender replies, “You want a club soda?”

The light catches his eyes as his lips turn up into a grin. They are a brilliant shade of green. He chuckles, “Scratch that. I’ll take a whiskey.”

The bartender nods and turns to pull a bottle off the glass shelf. Tall-and-handsome turns to you, extending his hand. “Hi there, I’m Dean.”

“Hey,” you respond, taking his hand and grasping firmly. Christ, he’s strong. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Have you seen this band before?” he asks casually.

“Yeah, I’ve been to all their shows.”

“Wow, that’s dedication! I’m just in town for a few days and thought I’d catch a show. I’d never heard of them until today.”

“Well, Dean, you are in for a treat,” you say, smiling up at him. Dean looks just past your shoulder and you turn to see the hulking form behind you. It’s Clint, head of security for the band. Clint is big and looks menacing, but he’s a teddy bear at heart. Clint leans and whispers in your ear and you nod in response.

“Sorry, Dean, that’s my cue. I have to get going”

“Wait…are you with the band?” Dean asks.

“Uh, yeah…I’m the tour manager,” you reply.

“Really? Awesome!”

You give him a wave and start to follow after Clint, before turning back to Dean. “Hey, what do you say to a backstage pass?”

“For real?” The expression on his face is like a kid in a candy store. “Man, I’d love that. But I’m here with my brother…”

“What’s his name?”

“Sam.”

“Okay, when you find your brother, go talk to Clint. He’ll be to the left of the stage. Give him your names and he’ll bring you backstage.”

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