large closet

Debuting at TCAF 2017 - My Brother’s Husband, Volume 1 by Gengoroh Tagame

Translated by Anne Ishii
Published by Pantheon Books

From one of Japan’s most notable manga artists: a heartbreaking and redemptive tale of mourning and acceptance that compares and contrasts the contemporary nature of gay tolerance in the East and the West

Yaichi is a work-at-home suburban dad in contemporary Tokyo, married to wife Natsuki, father to young daughter Kana. Their lives are suddenly upended with the arrival at their doorstep of a hulking, affable Canadian named Mike Flanagan, who declares himself the widower of Yaichi’s estranged gay twin, Ryoji. Mike is on a quest to explore Ryoji’s past, and the family reluctantly but dutifully takes him in. What follows is an unprecedented, revelatory look at and journey into the largely still-closeted Japanese gay culture: how it’s been affected by the West, and how the next generation has the chance to change the preconceptions of and prejudices against it.

“When a cuddly Canadian comes to call, Yaichi—a single Japanese dad—is forced to confront his painful past. With his young daughter Kana leading the way, he gradually rethinks his assumptions about what makes a family. Renowned manga artist Gengoroh Tagame turns his stunning draftsmanship to a story very different from his customary fare, to delightful and heartwarming effect.”
—Alison Bechdel, author of Fun Home

Break M'Own Rules

Harry X Reader: Angst

In which alcohol and pricks make for a messy, angry Harry.

Request? No

Author’s note: I don’t really see Harry ever being violent, but I had a dream about this and really wanted to write it soooo.


Tonight has been the most fun you’ve had in a while. You’re sat at a table in Harry’s favorite pub, crowded with his close friends. There are some that he keeps in regular contact with, but more that he only gets to see on the off chance that he’s home for a while and free from any work.

Harry’s been smiling all night, cracking terrible jokes and laughing overzealously at the little quips that anyone else makes. He’s had at least one too many. His smile is lazy, an uneven little smirk. His arm is stretched out across the back of your chair and he keeps touching you, brushing his thumb over your far arm, randomly spattering kisses along your cheek or over your bare shoulder. Sometimes he leans on you and you have to shove him off when he becomes a little too heavy, worried about tipping out of your chair. But he only grins at you and then joins back into whatever conversation is happening.

The group has begun to thin out. A few friends have left in pairs, babbling about being tired or having things to do tomorrow. You and Harry assure each of them that there will be more get-togethers before he’s off around the world for work again. Harry expresses his love with sloppy words, too buzzed to get up from his chair and hug them. Then there’s only Nick left.

“Yeh ‘bout ready to g’home, kitten?” Harry’s leaned his head on your shoulder again, growing hair falling into his heavy eyes.

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Missing scene ficlet from Emma’s first night home, right after Killian comes back inside from David shrugging of his help with harsh words. (very mild M rating)


He’s thankful for the door at his back keeping him steady as a lightheadedness overcomes him at the whiplash of emotions hitting him all at once. It was just a few minutes ago when he’d looked around the kitchen at the family sipping at their glasses, smiling and hugging, realizing that he no longer felt like an outsider. There were no sidelong glances his way during that toast, no raised eyebrows from Regina or scoff from David, just a loving look from Emma as if he was the most important one in the room. He’s was in this. He had a home, a family larger and more complicated than he ever could have imagined. He finally felt like he had a place in it.

But the words David has just spoken has simply reminded him of how far off he is from ever deserving any of it. Killian’s past is something from which he will never escape, but he’d hoped David had seen his attempts to change. Shaking his head, he tries to remind himself that David is on the edge of delirious, overtired and scared. Lashing out is an understandable response in these circumstances. He’s certainly done his fair share of that. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, holding the air in his lungs for a moment before letting it out slowly through his nose, a trick he’d taught young sailors feeling their first bout of seasickness on choppy waters. The future he wants, the one taking shape around him, in this house, in every one of Emma’s smiles, he’ll weather any storm in order to grasp it. Tomorrow, he will step into that tempest, one way or another.

Leaving his coat on the hook and his boots by the door, he heads up the stairs, pausing on the landing when he hears Emma’s voice drifting quietly from Henry’s room at the end of the hall. The door isn’t closed, but he senses the need for privacy and leaves them to their conversation. Once inside the master bedroom, he closes the door and begins to undress, dropping his dirty clothes in the hamper in their impossibly large closet piece by piece. He will do laundry tomorrow, he thinks, wash everything from the time Emma was away as if that can erase the feelings of having her gone. His hand reaches out to feel for the box hidden in the pocket of his leather duster, needing a tactile reminder of all he is fighting for.

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2

Map of Dio’s mansion from part 3, surprised I couldn’t find this translated anywhere. Sorry for the blurry lines by the way, the program I used to scale up the scans has a tendency to give a watercolor-like effect, but I was too lazy to find an alternative :P

Translation notes:

  • Jotaro and co. escaped from D’Arby’s room into the wine cellar.
  • Polnareff and Iggy encountered Vanilla Ice in the billiard room, then ran up the stairs into the second floor gallery.
  • The first floor bathrooms were labeled “トイレ”, while the upstairs ones are “バスルーム”, which leads me to suspect the first floor bathrooms may be half baths (aka bathrooms without a bathtub/shower) while the upstairs ones are full baths.
  • Not sure if the “worship room” is meant to be like a chapel, or a room in which Dio’s groupies worship him. My translation is pretty literal, so I really can’t tell.
  • The “dressing room” is presumably some sort of large closet where Dio keeps all his crotchless pants and pretty heart tiaras and all that.
BTS Reacting To Your Nervous Tics

~A repost because I posted it to my main blog instead of my side blog and I am an idiot because this took and hour to make and somehow I lost the ask. Sorry anon.~

Originally posted by jjilljj

Seokjin - Seokjin would notice that you were clinging close to the pillow set on your couch. he would frown lightly before snagging the nearest figurine off the shelf in his room. “Aigoo… Jagi could you help me find my new figurine..?” And then ensues a scavenger hunt for the figurine that was hiding in Jin’s pocket. “I found it Jagi. Sorry to have you look all over. It must have fell..” He would then pull you close and press you lightly to his chest before humming gently and kissing your head. Jin is subtle in his ways to make you forget your troubles. 

Originally posted by holdmettightbts

Yoongi - Yoongi would see you sitting across the room where you both were working. You seemed to grow tense and wouldn’t stop clicking the pen between your fingers. He could see the flush of red crossing your face, so he closed his laptop and walked over to you, closing yours as well. “Let’s take a walk jagi. I need to stretch my legs.” It wasn’t a total lie, even though he knew you needed it more than he did. He could see the thunder cloud looming over your head and he wanted to prevent it from becoming a tornado of panic. So you walked hand in hand down the silent streets as he caressed his thumb across the back of your hand. Before you return home, he pulls you close and kisses your forehead. Simple gestures were Yoongi’s way of making you calm.

Originally posted by bangtanbighit

Hoseok - Even though Hoseok seems so carefree and happy all the time, he was totally in tune with how you were feeling. He could sense when your anxiety was peaking. So Hoseok being the absolute ray of sunshine he was, would make up something to make you excited. “JAGI! OH MY GOD!” “What Hobi?” “There’s something bigger than the sun!” “Wait what could be bigger than the sun?” “My love for you Jagi!” “Aish Hobi…” He would reach over and brush his hand through your hair with a bright smile on his face before whispering “I love you.” Hobi had a way of making you smile when it seemed impossible moments before. 

Originally posted by bangthebae

Nmajoon - The moment your anxiety hit and you started to twirl your hair he was completely aware. He knew what he had to do. He had to say something to you. It had to be good enough to take your mind completely by storm. “I never noticed how strong you truly are Jagi.” “What?” “You really are. To have a fight every single day and still smile somehow. Wah, you are my hero.” You were taken by surprise. Namjoon was so full of weird things like that. They took you by absolute suprise each time he spoke. Yet somehow it never ceased to make your eyes water and a brilliant smile spread across your face. He was always honest. His way with words was his way to make you feel calm. 

Originally posted by parkjiminer

Jimin - Jimin would be right there as you started to fall apart. He was usually on top of when you seem to fidget with your fingers. That was his sign for you being on the brink of losing yourself. But he just smiled softly and laced his fingers with yours. He would pull a large sweater from the closet and slip over your head. He would then pull back the covers and let you slide into the bed before sliding in behind you and wrapping himself around you and burying the both of you in your blankets. You needed a break from everything and he needed to let you know that he would be there to help you. Even if you needed hours of his time to soothe your aching mind. 

Originally posted by helendrv

Taehyung - He wasn’t so adept with noticing how you seemed to pace around when you were anxious. He was only highly aware when the tears started to flow and your breathing hitched and seemed to speed up. So he took his spot next to you. Making sure to not touch you unless you reached for him and he began his remedy for your panic attacks. “Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be. Take my hand, take my whole life, too. For I can’t help falling in love with you.” Your breathing would slow and soon Taehyung was holding you close. “Ahh Jagi… You’re okay. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” 

Originally posted by iwanthope

Jungkook - Like Taehyung he isn’t as good as his hyungs are at picking up on the signs of your anxiety. Especially when you’re mid panic attacks and he only notices because you’re hunched over trying to catch your breath as the worled seems to be closing in. He walks calmly to you and wraps his arms around you as he rocks you back and forth. “I’ll count to ten Jagi. Deep breaths okay? Just focus on your breaths.” After what would feel like ages you were still clutching him, but you had calmed down from your panic attack. He would kiss your head and rub your back gently. Jungkookie just knew, without being told how, what made you feel better. 

A/N: This is more helping you deal with an anxiety attack but I think it fits. I hope you like it anon. And all of you guys have a person to come to when things get hard. I’ll always be here. Xxoo <3<3<3<3

p.s. Taehyung’s got me almost crying omfg.

Testosterone Boys And A Harlequin Girl (Jeonghan/Seungcheol Threesome Smut)

Summary: Jeonghan and Seungcheol always had something special. You knew, you could see it, and so could anyone else with eyes and half a brain. And chemistry like that makes for really great sex. Really, really great sex. Whether it was stars or hormones that crossed for you to know that, you weren’t too sure. But those boys had you seeing stars between their chemistry, their amazing looks, and their desire to punish you. Smut. 

(AN: FINALLY COMPLETE. I deviated so fucking much from the original request and omg I think it’s really cute when people use my name in messages. Title taken from the AMAZING panic! song that I thought was sooo fitting here and I listened to while writing. Very gay sex ahead if you’re not comfortable with that, shy away. Daddy kink. Threesome. Obvi smut warning. -Tanisha<3) 

You woke up to 56 Snapchats, 33 text messages, 24 missed calls, and 18 voice mails. With all thirteen of the boys in your contacts and desperately needing your attention, you were surprised it wasn’t more. It was Saturday morning and they had time, probably too much time, before they had to be shipped off to do a radio interview and bothering you seemed to be on the menu. All messages seemed to consist of invitations to the dorm, them asking for food, and as the timestamps progressed, just desperate pleas for you to get out of bed. And then it seemed, pointless spamming to get your attention.

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Tea Party For 9

Pairing: The Men of The Avengers x Steve Rogers Daughter Sarah Rogers

Warning: This is ridiculous and well I think I’m funny sorry if you don’t. Haha

When Sarah wants a tea party, she manages to get her way with Uncle Tony’s help. She doesn’t hear the word no when it comes to her uncles, not a single one is willing to tell her no, even if that means being forced into Dress Up attire and using their manners. As long as it stays between the nine of them only.

@chrisevansthedoritobastard @holahellohialoha  
@almightyunnie @imamotherfuckingstar-lord  
@iwillbeinmynest @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked
@goodnightwife @irepeldirt
@yourtropegirl  @bellejeunefillesansmerci 
@buckyb-avengers  @winterboobaer
@mrhowardstark @rileyloves5
@ria132love  @samanthaneedsanap
@theonlyparadox   @seargantbcky
@the-witching-hours12-3   @callamint 
@cryokinetic-cobain  @agentsinstorybrooke 

“Are you sure about this?” You sigh leaning against the wall as you watch your daughter run from her uncle Clint who was chasing her down for of course stealing one of his French fries, her little legs going as quick as they could.

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Dirty Laundry

Request I picked up from @wwe-smutfics: Anon: QUOTE SERIES: Johnny Gargano. The two of you are relatively new roommates with the quote “I DIDN’T MEAN TO WALK IN ON YOU NAKED AGAIN! YOU REALLY NEED TO LEARN TO LOCK YOUR DOOR!“

Summary: Life wasn’t perfect. Most people weren’t perfect. My ability to spot trustworthy people wasn’t perfect. But Johnny Gargano? Oh yeah, he was perfect in every sense. Except his issue with locking doors and leaving his dirty clothes in the hallway. Ambiguous gender reader character.

Warnings: Admiring of a butt [Johnny’s], swearing, theft, skeevy ex, seeing the roommate without clothes on, and Raini’s usual potty mouth.

Rating: High PG-13?

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About Last Night

They shouldn’t have slept together. But they did. Now for the aftermath.


Also on AO3/FF.NET 

unbeta’d. All mistakes my own…

1.8k


A prompt from @distant-rose: best friends secretly pining plus locked in a closet by other frustrated, impatient and exasperated friends. A baby ficlet dedicated to @nickillian


Emma Swan: expert at running away from shit. That’s what her obituary would say.

And by shit it would mean anything remotely resembling a situation where her emotions would be exposed and she would get hurt. Which was why she was currently hiding in Mary Margaret Nolan’s den.

“I’m failing to see the problem,” the brunette mused over a steaming cup of tea.

“Ms - I slept with Killian.”

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Confined


Prompt:
Hi :3 Could you do a peter x reader where they’re friends (with a crush on each other) and during a mission they have to hide in a very small place (like a closet) and they get embarrassed because of ehm “reactions”? Thank you, love you!

Requested By: @sygin

Editor: @fetus-twink-howell

Warning(s): Swearing, Sexual references

A/N: Sorry this took so long!


  You’d known from the start that this wouldn’t end well. You’d told them it wouldn’t end well, but did anyone listen to you? No. And now here you were, being dragged along by Peter, because of course the whole thing went to shit. Oh, how you would love to say ‘I told you so,’ but you were a little busy trying to get away from the people chasing you.

  The smooth metal walls of the base seemed to stretch on forever as the two of you ran, and your footsteps seemed to echo so loudly that you were fairly certain someone miles away could hear them. You knew the two of you had to get out - these people were ruthless, killing without hesitation - but the two of you were in the heart of their base, and you were worried that there might not be a way out.

  Peter rounded another sharp corner, his grip on your hand tightening as he sped up, his eyes searching for somewhere, anywhere to hide. You were almost to the end of the hallway when Peter skidded to a stop, causing you to slam into his back, sending you reeling.

“What the fuck, Peter, we need to-” He cut you off with a glance, darting to your right and ripping open a door you hadn’t noticed, possibly because it was so well camouflaged with the walls. He pulled you into the closet, barely giving you time to brace yourself before you were jammed awkwardly against the walls, Peter pressed close to you. You held your breath, trying to calm your heart rate.

“So… do you like jazz music?”

“Peter, what the hell?” You whispered, eyes adjusting just enough to see the outline of his face. He shrugged - as well as one could shrug when pressed against someone else in a small closet - and grinned. You could see the white of his teeth even in the darkness, and vaguely wondered how they were still that white despite all the junk food Peter ate.

  Suddenly, something became blaring obvious to you. You were standing pressed against the wall in a small closet. Flushed against Peter. Your crush. You were glad for the near-pitch darkness; you knew from the heat rising up to your face that you were blushing deeply. You squirm slightly, the close confines jumbled with your feelings for Peter making you uncomfortable.

“What can I say, live by the memes, get stuck in a cramped closet by the memes.” You snorted, and by the way you heard Peter shift, you could imagine he looked affronted. “You dare question my loyalty to memes?” You hold back a laugh, shaking your head as best you can.

“Pete, that meme is ancient.”

“The older, the danker.”

“I swear, Peter…”

What? What did I do?”

“What didn’t you do, idiot.”

“Well you, for starters.” He was grinning smugly. You knew he was grinning smugly. You didn’t need to see to know that.

PETER!” Suddenly you felt his hand press against your mouth, and you felt him lean forward to keep your mouth closed from the pressure.

“Y/N, you’re loud as fuck and I’d very much like to live.” You grumbled in response, rolling your eyes in mock annoyance. You couldn’t have been that loud. Besides, it was his fault. Mostly. You took a deep breath, reaching to move Peter’s hand away from your mouth.

“I’ll be as loud as I damn well please,” you said, but you kept your voice low nonetheless. Your eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, and you could make out Peter’s features fairly well. Which also meant you could see, as well as feel, how close the two of you were. Damn feelings. You knew this was not the time to be wondering if his dark eyes were fixated on your face, or what it would feel like to be wrapped in his arms, but your close proximity had caused your mind to wander, despite the circumstances.

  As if the situation couldn’t get any more embarrassing, the base began to shake abruptly, the thundering BOOM of an explosion rocking the ground and causing the two of you to fall onto one another. The next thing you knew, you were both positioned awkwardly, your legs straddling each other as you tried to catch yourselves. You gripped his shirt to steady yourself as yet another tremor shook the base, knowing that if you fell you’d likely be stuck in that position until the two of you were able to make your escape.

  When the tremors finally stopped, neither of you moved, too afraid to disentangle yourselves. You weren’t sure that, even had you wanted to move, you would have been able to. Your fingers were locked into place, tangled in Peter’s shirt.

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, almost trembling.

“Hm?” You trained your eyes on his face, trying to read his expression in the darkness.

“You might want to… back away.” You glanced around, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Peter, how the fuck am I supposed to back away in this cramped closet?” He looked at you almost pleadingly, and something in your brain clicks. Oh. Heat rushes into your face, embarrassment flooding through you. You were positive that if you could truly see Peter, he would be flushed too.

  The rush of embarrassment did not, however, stop you from giving up what you considered a prime opportunity to tease Peter. So, instead of backing away, you leaned into him.

“Something wrong, Pete?” Your voice was sickeningly innocent.

“Pffft no! Of course nothing’s wrong! Why would something be wrong?” You could swear his voice raised an octave, and resisted the urge to giggle. “Is it hot in here? It’s hot right? Because this is a small closet? Right?!” You shake your head slightly, wrapping your arms around Pete’s neck.

“No, it’s pretty cold in here, actually. I wish I could warm up,” you purred, eyes fixated on Peter’s face. He was looking anywhere but at you.

“Y/N, shut up. You know what you’re doing, and it’s not fair.”

Of course I know what I’m doing. I’m hugging my best friend.”

Y/N, for fUCKS SA-” He doesn’t finish, you don’t give him a chance to. You press your lips to his, tangling your fingers in his hair. His hands find your lower back, pressing you closer to him. You were a tangle of limbs and unchecked lust; your bodies pressed so closely together that the small confines of the closet seemed large. Hands roamed and lips parted, neither of you giving another thought to your original reason for being in the closet.

Then, the door opened, but the two of you were so wrapped up in each other that you didn’t notice that Scott was standing in the small doorway of the closet, arms crossed.

“You know,” his voice rang loud and clear, startling the two of you and causing you to spring apart. This, of course, only resulted on the two of you falling all over each other within the close confines. “It doesn’t look like you two need much of a rescue so much as a chaperone.” You glance at Peter, both of your faces red in embarrassment. Scott rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Come on you two. And Peter, you might want to…”

“Five more minutes and it wouldn’t have been a problem anymore,” Peter mutters, smirking at you.

Peter Maximoff!

Never Again

Request from this Fucker( @litbatboys ): OH MY GOD IS THIS REALLY AJ AHHH OH MY GOD IM A BIG FAN DADDY can i have a Jason x reader where the reader did not know jason was the arkham knight and then she found the helmet in his closet one day and she is like rethinking her decision about dating him because her parents died the knight the cloud burst exploded and angst

Relationship: Jason Todd  X Reader

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!!, lots of crying, sad, if you squint you can see @litbatboys breaking my heart. Lil bit of fluff.

A/n: GIRLLLL YOU GOT ME FUCKED THE FUCK UP. Also this was really fun to write tbh.

~~~

Cleaning the apartment you shared with your boyfriend Jason was something you did often whenever he was at patrol. It helped calm your nerves especially after your parents death last Halloween when Scarecrow and the Arkham Knight took over Gotham. Your parent’s were only two out of the 30 that died, and whenever Jason was out those nerves took over and you feared for his life.

Currently you were cleaning out the large closet the both of you shared and when you saw a fairly large box you took it out and placed it on the bed there was a label on it and you looked at Jason’s scribbled handwriting that read ‘Never Again.’ Curious you opened the box and you instantly regretted it. Sitting right atop of the neatly folded uniform was the thing that gave you nightmares nearly every night.  The cracked helmet of the Arkham Knight. You picked it up and held the wretched thing in your hands, disbelief filling you.

“Y/N? I’m home!” Jason called out before finding you in your shared bedroom with the helmet in your hands and tears streaming down your face.  “Y/N?”

“How could you?” You whispered shock lacing your words. “You knew, you knew you killed them but you didn’t even tell me.”

He took a step towards you and reached out removing the Red Hood helmet from his head. Each step he took towards you was another step back that you took. The helmet slipped from your hands and clattered to the floor with a bang, sobs were racing through your body and you were shaking uncontrollably.

“Y/N, hey I don’t do that anymore.” He whispered gently shifting his foot forward slightly. You took another step back your back was now pressing against the wall and you couldn’t go anywhere else. You looked at the one that killed your parents, the one that killed even more people, the man you called your boyfriend, the one you shared your bed with, a home with, you looked at Jason Todd. “It’s alright doll.”

“I-I can’t.” You weren’t scared of him, you loved him too much and you knew he’d never raise a hand against you, but you still left, running to your parents grave. You looked at the headstones, they were all in a cluster of graves along with every other person that died in the cloud-burst explosion. “Mom, Dad,”

You were sobbing even harder, you had each of your hands placed on your parents grave and you collapsed. Tears were streaming down your face uncontrollably and you couldn’t help but think of what they might say. They’d want you to be happy, Jason made you happy there was no doubt about it. They’d love him, with his charismatic personality, and his protective side. They’d want you to be with him, even though he’s the reason they were dead. You stayed by their grave’s side until it was dark out before walking back. You should’ve left earlier, Gotham was dangerous in the day but it was worse at night. Every dark alley you sped past but that didn’t stop someone from grabbing you, you were about to scream when you looked into the red puffy eyes of Jason Todd. “Those men have been following you for blocks.”

“Jason, I-I’m sorry.” You were crying again but this time you were crying into his chest and he held you closely. “I just- I couldn’t take it in.”

“You shouldn’t be saying sorry to me,” He whispered into your hair as he was swaying side-to-side. “I’m sorry, I should’ve said something sooner,”

“It’s okay, they would want me to be with you.” You say brushing his hair back from his eyes and pressing your lips to his. “You make me Happy.”


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The Contest-Part 19

To celebrate Supernatural’s 15th season, the producers have decided to hold a contest to cast an unknown in a recurring role as Sam’s rumored love interest.  They are doing open casting calls all over the country.  Your best friend Nikki wants to go and she drags you along.

A/N: My inspiration for Nikki is the one and only Red, AKA@oriona75.  So I am actually telling two stories here, Jared and Readers, and Sam and Gemini’s.  It flips back and forth, so try and keep up! :)

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Reader, Best friend Nikki(OC) Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Mark Sheppard, Mark Pellegrino, Rory Montgomery (OC), PA Emily (OC) Cliff, Other Supernatural cast and crew

Master List

Part 1 (all parts are linked)

“That’s your brother?” Sam’s surprise was evident.

I wiped a tear from my eye. I’d mourn Leo later, in private. “Crowley said he was a demon and Lucifer’s right-hand man, remember?”

Dean looked extremely annoyed. “Still don’t get why you let him go, Gem.“

“Because Dean, demon or not I know my brother. He is beyond pissed Lucifer didn’t tell him I was Sam’s soulmate. I could hear it in his voice. Sowing the seeds of discord between them could work in our favor.”

“He knew our plan, Gem. Now we can’t do the spell.” Sam commented.

“My brother may be a demon, but he still thinks like a guy, Sam.”

Sam and Dean exchanged puzzled glances. They had no idea where I was going with this. Clueless men!

“Let me explain. Most women have warmer weather clothes and cooler weather clothes. My cooler weather clothes I store away when I don’t need them.” I explained.

I walked into what I assumed was Missouri’s bedroom and opened the large closet. Flicking on the light, I began to dig around. Within a few minutes, I had found what I was looking for. I held up a cream-colored cardigan with several dark, wiry hairs clinging to it.

“Is Missouri African-American?“ I asked. Sam nodded.

“Bingo,” I stated triumphantly.

“Damn She’s good,“ Dean remarked to Sam.

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I Promise //Draco Imagine//

Requested By: @fangirl4799

Request: I was wondering if you could do an imagine based on this picture (Shown below) obviously for Draco Malfoy. Thanks.

Warnings: none

A/n: The reader is replacing Hermione in the picture. Also this takes places during the Battle Of Hogwarts.

—–

The whole castle seemed to be shaking beneath you as you ran. Your eyes were wide and tears threatened to spill not just from the wind hitting your face, but from what you were being forced to see. Flashes of green light would illuminate entire hallways and the screams that followed them only made it worse. Clouds of black soared across the room and changed into threatening death eaters, their intention to kill anyone who got in their way. You gripped your wand tightly as you continued to run. You didn’t have a destination, you just didn’t want to be around the death eaters. Your heart hurt from the sound of many screams and you couldn’t hold back the urge to cry any longer.

You slowed down as you reached a corner of the castle you were quite familiar with. The corridor that once offered you light and protection, now made you feel trapped and exposed. You leaned yourself against one of the large stone walls and tilted your head back, trying as best as you could to catch your breath. A shriek escaped your lips as a flash of light just nearly missed your face and collided with the wall behind you. You quickly jumped from your spot and into the open corridor only to find yourself yourself cornered. You stared up at the vast wall in front of you, your hope disappearing right before your eyes.

You whirled around at the sound of approaching footsteps. A person, dressed in all black with a mask on was slowly approaching you, his wand extended towards you. You stepped back, trying to keep your distance, but thanks to the dead end, you could only step away so far. You raised your wand as well, knowing it was almost pointless to try but if it could save you, it was worth the shot.

“Well well, if it isn’t Y/n.” The figure said as they continued to step closer. You seemed to recognize the voice but you couldn’t place it. “The sweet sweet Y/n who was so determined to find a friend in me.”

“Lucius.” You breathed, your eyes widening and your hand starting to tremble. You knew he hated you. You knew that he despised every inch of you, inside and out, and you knew that you were already dead to him. All he had to do now was make it official.

“It’s too bad I have to do this to you. To Draco. But you’ve already messed up enough of my life. It’d be a shame to give you the chance to ruin it even more. He lifted his wand but before he could say anything, someone else did.

“Stupefy!”

Lucius’s body froze before falling to the ground. You closed your eyes, your breaths uneven and your cheeks damp with tears of pain and fear.

“Y/n?” The sound of your name being called made you stand up straight and your eyes immediately fell on the one who had saved you.

“Draco,” You practically cried as you flung yourself towards him, letting him catch you against his chest. “Draco, your father-”

“I know Y/n. I know. I wasn’t going to let him hurt you though love. You’re safe now.” Draco whispered as he stroked your hair. You clung to him tightly, glad to be back in his arms.

“What are we going to do Draco?” You looked up at him. You noticed a gash just above his eyebrow that covered half of his forehead in blood. His once pristine skin was now covered in dirt and ash from the explosions and his hair hung loosely over his forehead. He looked around the room before lowering his gaze to look at you, a defeated expression now apparent on his face.

“I don’t know.” He muttered softly. He pulled you away from him and took you by the shoulders. “But Y/n, I won’t let anything happen to you. Nothing is going to hurt you,” He trailed his dirt covered fingers down your jawline before caressing your cheek softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. You thought you saw tears in his eyes as he said, “I promise.”

You sniffled softly before crashing back into his chest, burying your face in his shoulder as he embraced you. You jumped apart when a loud explosion rattled the corridor. Draco quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you further down the corridor to a large staircase. You followed him as he flew down the steps and into another corridor. This one was decorated with many picture frames, many of which were empty due to the paintings evacuating. Draco stopped in front of a rather large frame that was empty now. He pulled at it until to your surprise, it swung open. Behind it, a small wooden door was built into the wall. Draco pulled out his wand and whispered “alohomora” before pushing the door open. You followed him inside quickly, closing the door behind you. You heard the picture frame hit the wall as well.

“What is this Draco?” You asked as you looked around. Draco had just lit a few candles that gave the room an eerie but cozy glow. It couldn’t have been bigger than a large broom closet and it smelled of mold and dust.


“It’s an abandoned broom closet. I found it during our third year and have kept it secret ever since. It’s nearly impossible to find though. You’ll be safe in here until the war is over.” Draco spoke hurriedly as he lit the final candle and turned began looking around the room for something else.

“You mean us, right? It will keep us safe.” You replied as you put your wand in your pocket and furrowed your eyebrows. Draco turned to you, his saddened expression was illuminated by the glow of the candles. He crossed the small room and took your waist in both his hands before placing his forehead against your own.

“I love you Y/n,” He whispered. “You are so amazing and strong and determined and my life wouldn’t have any meaning without you in it.”

“I love you too Draco.” You replied. You wrapped your arms around his neck and lifted yourself to his lips. He kissed you back, slowly, passionately, and with meaning. As if it was the last time he would ever get to kiss you.

He pulled you into his chest and kissed your forehead softly when you finally pulled away. “I will come back for you when the war is over.” He said quickly, kissing you one more time before letting go of you and running towards the door.

“What?” Was all you could say. You stood glued to the floor, still processing what was happening when he gave you a sad smile. Tears rimmed his eyes as a quiet “I promise” left his lips. And then, just like that, he was gone.

“No,” you whispered. “Draco!” You ran to the door where he had just disappeared and pulled at the handle. The door wouldn’t budge. “Draco! Draco!!” You shouted as you pounded on the door. You pulled out you wand and pointed it at the lock. “Alohomora.” You tried the handle again but it still wouldn’t budge.

You threw your body at the door but had no luck. You were about to try again when the whole room suddenly jolted, a loud boom echoed through the walls and you knew exactly what had happened. And worse, it had happened in the corridor Draco had just ran into.

“DRACO!” You screamed as you ran to the door and threw your fists at it. “Draco!! Draco!” you screamed at the door again before collapsing onto the floor, unable to control the sobs erupting from your throat. You could only hope that he had made it out of the hallway in time, but deep down, you knew it wasn’t possible.

Another loud boom shook the room. This one was much closer though and you found yourself screaming as bits of the walls and ceiling collapsed onto the floor. You closed your eyes and covered your head until the explosion had died out. You opened your eyes and nearly shouted with glee. The door had been broken by a large piece of the ceiling. You quickly scrambled to your feet and jumped into the hallway, your wand in your hand and determination in your head.

But before you could even take a step, The wall beside you suddenly burst, an ear breaking boom filled the corridor and the force of the explosion knocked you off your feet. You fell and hit your head hard against the stone floor. Your vision began to blur and the last thing you saw before blacking out was a flash of green light.

—–

A loud, high pitched ringing was the first thing you heard as you slowly gained consciousness. You opened your eyes and did the best you could to figure out where you were. You were laying on the ground, massive pieces of stone were littered around your body and a thick layer of dust covered everything, including you. You reluctantly picked yourself up into a sitting position, trying your hardest to ignore the piercing pain in your head. You touched your fingers to your forehead and winced when you saw they were now soaking in blood. The ringing in your ears subsided after a moment and with that gone, your head automatically began to feel slightly better.

“Draco..” You muttered as you grabbed the cracked wall beside you. You pulled your battered body onto your feet and made your way down the hall. “Draco!” You called once you had gained enough energy to. “Draco!” You began running, fear starting to consume you.

“Y/n?” You heard someone say and you whirled around.

“Hermione,” You said breathlessly. “Thank god you’re here.”

“You look horrible! Why aren’t you in the great hall with the other injured?” She asked as she ran to your side and put an arm around your waist. “Let me help you there.”

You pulled away from her touch and took a few steps back. “Where’s Draco?”

“In the great hall with the others.” She said and with that, you jumped back into a run and took off down the corridor and towards the great hall.

You reached it surprisingly fast having to take different routes due to destruction. You ran through the doors and into the great hall, your eyes immediately scanning over the many familiar faces.

“Y/n.” You looked to your left and saw Mcgonagall approaching you. “My dear we thought you were dead!” She said as she reached for you.

“Where is Draco?” You asked. You didn’t mean to be rude but you had to know where was and if he was okay or not.

“Third bed over there.” Mcgonagall said softly. “I’m glad you’re okay dear.”

“I’m glad you are as well.” You replied, giving her a warm smile before running towards the long line of beds. Your heart nearly fell to the floor when you saw Draco lying in one of the beds, his eyes closed.

“Draco?” You asked softly as you stepped beside his bed. “Draco?” You nudged his shoulder gently and sure enough, his eyes opened.

“Y/n..?” He asked in a groggy voice. You had obviously just woken him up. “Oh my god, Y/n!”

You laughed softly as you sat down on the bed beside him. Your hands automatically went to his face as you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “It’s me.” You brushed his hair out of his forehead and smiled at him. “I was so worried about you.”

“Me? I was so worried about you! I thought for sure the explosion would have made the whole room explode. How did you get out?” He asked, wincing as he tried to sit up.

“Don’t try to sit, you’ll hurt yourself.” You said softly. “The room kinda collapsed and the door broke.” You explained and he nodded.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I promised you wouldn’t get hurt and look at you..” Draco said sadly but you shook your head.


“There was nothing for you to do Draco. I’m fine. Just a little scratched up. Nothing that won’t heal.” You shrugged and he nodded.

“You should probably get that cleaned up. It doesn’t look to pleasant. You can come back here when they’re done.” Draco said quietly as his eyes began to drift shut again.

“Okay..” You nodded. You stood up and turned around to find the nurse.


“Y/n,” Draco called. “You’ll come back, right?”

“Yes Draco. I’ll come right back here.” You smiled at him.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

It’s Sportacus suggestion that they spend a day in together. Initially, Robbie checks for a fever, wondering if it’s a sickness that makes Sportacus of all people to stay inside and be lazy all day.

With his hand pressed against his forehead, Sportacus laughs, bright and sweet before he grabs it, turns it over so he can place a soft kiss on the inside of his wrist.

Keep reading

Or Else I'll Argue With You

Fic Request: Stiles and Lydia are fighting and the rest of the pack purposefully lock them in a closet to sort their differences. Stydia make up with apologies and smutty closet sex in the midst of the packs return

Rating: MA

Genre: Smut, Romance, Established Relationship

Author: eyasilvers

Keep reading

An Unsavoury Lodging (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Originally posted by newtscamandersfantasticbeasts

Word Count: 2,467

Warnings: Wounds, bleeding, death…ish?

A/N: So I did some research and it turns out a wizarding book publisher commissioned Newt to write FBAWTFT not the Ministry so sorry about the error in previous imagines

(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧

You slowly opened the door, hesitant at what you’d find. You and Newt had been traveling all over the world in search of magical creatures to study and care for (and sometimes save) and had been given a low funding from Obscurus Books, so you were only able to afford cheap accommodations. It’s not that you were incredibly picky or fancy but being mentally prepared is what usually stopped you from hurling at first glance or whiff of your room. Almost always there was a dead animal under the bed or an unsavoury liquid on the walls or some other form of nastiness (sometimes in the form of a dangerous beast).

The two of you normally had to go to places that weren’t exactly known for their tourist appeal to find the creatures Newt had to study and therefore weren’t as nice as, say, Venice for example. You also ordinarily stayed in the more shabby areas and streets, in the more rickety motels and lodgings, with the more shifty people.

And you couldn’t stay in Newt’s case as you didn’t know who would find a slightly battered but otherwise nice case just lying there, waiting to be stolen. Also, the small cabin in the case wasn’t big enough for both of you to sleep in, especially with the constantly messy state it was in.

So here you were, Newt having reluctantly agreed to let you scout the room beforehand as he was finalising payments and such with the concierge/manager. Last time it was Newt who had assessed the room before the two of you unpacked the few belongings you had outside of his magical case. Unfortunately, he was greeted with a self casting hex that shot at him as soon as he opened the door, turning him into an alarming shade of green for the next two weeks, much to your amusement and his exasperation.

As you cautiously stepped into the room, you hoped no hexes, colour changing or otherwise, would be shot at you. You turned the light on as the only source of natural light in the room was a small, dirty window. You stood there for a moment, scanning the room. The window was framed by translucent, wispy curtains, that looked about as good at doing their job as the window. The bed wasn’t made and there was a slight stench of rotting fruit in the air but otherwise it didn’t seem that bad (thankfully). There was a large closet at the back of the room and a doorway without a door into a small bathroom. You walked into the bathroom, deciding that you would avoid it as much as you could as you eyed the strange mould growing on the floor of the bathtub.

You approached the only bed in the room, it was fine though, you and Newt were used to sharing a bed. Well mostly used to, due to your ridiculous and quite frankly pointless feelings for the magizoologist you were constantly on edge. You crouched down onto your knees and glanced under the bed, finding the source of the rotten smell. You determined that you could live with that smell, lest risk touching whatever that was.

You then walked over to the wardrobe, crossing your fingers that no dead animals would tumble onto you when you opened it. You closed your hands over the visibly old handles and struggled to get the decrepit doors to open. Once you managed to swing them open, something did indeed fall on you. But it was no animal, it was too big, too heavy. You tumbled to the ground under the weight of the thing and quickly scrambled out from underneath it, your heart pumping violently in your chest. As you took a good look at it you saw that it was no thing, it was a body. You choked out a scream as you noticed how cold and stiff it was and you quickly turned it over onto it’s back.

Your breathing stopped. Your body froze. Your mind was screaming in sync with your even more frantically pumping heart. You couldn’t stop staring at the familiar freckled face, the auburn curls, the angular features. Newt. Newt. You were frozen on the spot as you stared at the dead body of the man you loved. You knew he was dead. He wasn’t moving or breathing. His skin was deathly pale. There was an obviously deep gash over his heart. He was dead. Newt was dead.

A sudden anguished sob escaped your lips, prompting you to move. You cradled his face, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Newt.” You wept. “No no no no no. This can’t be happening. Newt!” You frantically ripped open his coat and shirt, exposing his wound. You let out a loud sob at the sight of it. You quickly ran to the bathroom, picking up a bucket you found in the corner. You threw the bucket in the sink, turning the tap on. You let out a frustrated growl as no water came out, grabbing a handful of toilet paper you ran back to Newt.

“He’s not dead. He’s not. He’s fine.” You repeated to yourself as sob after sob racked your body. You tried to clean the blood up with the toilet paper but it just soaked through. You pulled at your hair in helplessness, then your eyes widened. You would go down to the concierge and ask where the nearest wizarding hospital was, or at least tell him to call a muggle ambulance, you knew little about muggle medicine but you it was better than nothing. You kissed Newt quickly on his forehead. “I’ll be right back.” You whispered as you dashed off.

Tears were flowing down your face as you dashed out the door and into the hallway. You were so focused on getting downstairs that you didn’t notice where you were going and crashed into someone. You didn’t bother to look up to whoever you had bumped into as you stepped aside and continued running. Well, tried to continue. You suddenly felt the person grip onto your arm as you sidestepped past them. Your gaze quickly moved to the person, anger and frustration coursing through you as you prepared to kick where the sun doesn’t shine, when you saw that it was Newt.

It was Newt who you had bumped into. Newt who was holding your arm. Newt who was looking at you worriedly. Newt who was alive. You threw your hand over your lips as loud sob escaped. There were so many emotions running through you, grief, worry, confusion, panic, relief. Newt’s eyes widened and brows furrowed as he took in your tearstained cheeks and anguished face. Surprising you, he dropped his case and cradled your face in his callused hands.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked almost frantically. You whimpered at the sound of his voice, making him even more concerned. “Y/N-“ but you cut him off before he could finish with a bone crushing hug. Newt immediately reciprocated it, one hand sliding around your waist comfortingly and the other in your hair as you pressed your face into his chest. Tears were still running down your face, but you started to calm down. Newt stayed silent, trusting you to tell him what had happened if you wanted to. Your mind eventually caught up with you and you landed on a reasonable explanation for…for what you saw.

“I think” you started, voice cracking “that there’s a boggart in the closet.” You finished shakily. Newt said nothing as he pressed you tighter against him. You were thankful he didn’t pry into what you saw, he always knew when to push and when to say nothing. Finally, you two slowly pulled away, Newt’s typical manner coming back as he picked up his case and looked away. Your arms still ached to be hugging him, but you ignored the feeling. “I-I should probably take care of it.” You mumbled, wiping your face sloppily. You felt your cheeks redden in embarrassment because of your weeping in front of him. You should have known it was a boggart, should have remembered Newt was downstairs.

“Actually, I think I should do it.” Newt suggested. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I am capable of doing it myself you know.” You said, crossing your arms.

“Oh, yes, I know you can.” Newt rushed to say, in hopes of not offending you, he knew very well of your excellent magical ability. “That’s - I - that’s not what I meant to say. It’s just that you have had quite a shock, being unprepared to find what you did and I thought it would be better for me to take care of it, since I am now aware of it.” You considered it. You didn’t want to seem weak and you didn’t want to put Newt through that, but he did have a point. The fact of the matter was, you couldn’t see it again. Newt’s lifeless body laying on the ground, his usual quietly curious look gone, replaced by a cold, emotionless expression.

“Ok.” You finally said reluctantly as you pushed passed Newt, heading back to the room. You didn’t want him to see you wiping away the last of he tears. You didn’t notice Newt watching you walk away, eyes filled with the usual admiration and longing whenever he sees you mixed with concern for you. He clenched his jaw and kept his head down as he caught up with you, the two of you walking through the dingy hallway back to your room. As you stopped in front of the door, you turned to look at Newt, his eyes were still averted but he could feel you looking at him. “Thank you, Newt.” You whispered. His gaze flickered to you, eyes full of surprise. You gave him a small smile, one that he returned as he slowly stepped into the room.

You dreaded each minute you sat outside the door. You knew that boggarts weren’t violent creatures and that Newt would physically be okay. What you were worried about was his emotional and mental wellbeing. Newt was most definitely one of the bravest and headstrong people you’ve ever met, yet you’ve seen other brave men stay silent for weeks after encountering boggarts, eyes haunted with their worst fears. You ran your hands over your face, guilt about letting him do this eating you up.

You quickly shot up as you heard the door open, spinning around to face Newt. He wouldn’t look at you, his cheeks tearstained and eyes red from crying. You felt your chest squeeze painfully at the sight. “It’s gone.” Newt said too casually. You didn’t say anything as you hugged him, just as he had held onto you just moments before. You understood the need to be comforted, to know that you are not the only one with fears. You bit your lip as you heard him release a shaky breath against your hair, gripping onto him tightly. You held him until he broke away. You licked your lips and took in a deep breath, gathering yourself from the series of eventful situations.

“We should go in now, I guess.” You said, sparing him from saying anything. He gave you a grateful look when you didn’t ask any questions.

———

You couldn’t sleep. As much as exhaustion tugged at your bones and fatigue occupied your mind, it would not rest.

Newt’s dead body haunted you. You saw him whenever you closed your eyes and felt your hurt thump in panic whenever his sleeping form went too still beside you. You tried not to move as your mind refused to rest, so as not to wake him but you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to do something. You slowly got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom to rinse your face, hoping the water would wash the images away. You turned the creaky tap on and sighed as no water came out. You had forgotten it didn’t work. You looked into the dingy mirror above the sink and watched your lip wobble slightly, looking up, trying not to let any more tears slip out.

“Y/N?” You heard a sleepy Newt mumble. You quickly turned around to find him in the doorway, his hair and clothes messy yet eyes alert, as they always were.

“Newt. Sorry if I woke you.” You said, finding the need to be quiet in the small, dark space. You hugged yourself and looked away, not knowing what to do.

“No no, you didn’t. I woke myself up.” He said, swallowing hard. “Nightmare.” You smiled sympathetically at him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, walking closer to him. To your disappointment, he moved a few steps back. He stayed silent for a while, then finally looked back up to you, his eyes full of sorrow.

“Can-can I ask what you saw?” He asked quietly. “When you saw the boggart?” You pursed your lips and looked away from his unusually intense gaze. You contemplated telling him, knowing full well what it would imply. You couldn’t do it though, you couldn’t risk the relationship that the two of you now shared.

“What did you see?” You asked, a very transparent evasion tactic but you didn’t care. He looked down, then took another step back, as if he feared your reaction.

“I saw you.” He said, voice cracking. “Your dead body.” Your eyes widened and your breath stopped short. You knew it didn’t mean that he had romantic feelings for you but it still meant that you were important to him. That he cared for you.

“I…I…I” You stuttered out, not being able to form a proper sentence. Newt seemed to close up.

“I’m sorry.” He said, starting to turn away, breaking you from your reverie.

“Sorry?” You asked, stopping him. You strode over to him and gripped his hand. “What in Merlin’s beard are you sorry for?”

“I made you uncomfortable, I-“ He started but you cut him off.

“What I saw, Newt.” You began, taking a deep breath. “Was you…dead.” He looked straight at you with those piercing spring green eyes, a range of emotions swirled in them, ones you couldn’t decipher. You could have sworn he froze entirely. Then he pulled you into a hug, the third one that day. It was softer than the last two, gentler.

“I’m alive.” He whispered.

“I’m alive too.” You responded.

“I’m oddly happy.”

“I’m oddly happy too”

“I…may have feelings for you.”

“…I may have feelings for you too.”

“I want to kiss you.”

“I want to kiss you too.”

So he did. If you hadn’t been in love with him before, you were definitely head over heels now.

(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧

Not my best work but I’m tired and I wanna sleep so *throws this at you*. Enjoy??

Constructive criticism is welcome.

K LOVE YOU BYE

in my bedroom there are nine little slabs of wood (remnants of my old bunk) which now serve as a partition between myself & the ceiling. it is the damnedest thing: hours– days! have been lost to studying ceaseless swirls of tiny stalactites that drip from the roof; or could they have been constellations? capricorn has a doppelgänger in my ceiling, i’m sure of it. i haven’t looked in a long while, unfortunately.

i moved to the bottom bunk after an incident in which i fell five feet to the cool floor & no one came after me. i decided i would never again sleep so high up; i tossed my mattress to the trash-collectors & settled into my sister’s vacated four-poster. try as i might i couldn’t completely remove the framework from the top bunk, so above me are these nine plywood bars. i’ve thrown a pink coverlet over them for looks but also to protect me from cobwebs that threaten to fall into my mouth & choke me while i dream.

why should i dream, in a place like this? six paces to the dresser, six paces to the door. a closet large enough to shelve my body & little else. the window rusted shut; one hanging light. no acoustics. there are secrets in the mahogany under my feet, but i can’t follow them.

i still have the ladder to my old bed. it stands adjacent to the post, waiting to be re-installed. i could very well return to the cosmos by the middle of the month, but i’d have to prepare. i’ll make do with the nine bars for now; they are sometimes interesting to consider. i may even sketch them sometime. on a side note, i hope that the people in this house know i didn’t fall from the top on purpose.

// nine bars