let's just look at the coat

Let me entertain you with some gorgeous looks of Jullian Glover in “The Avengers”.

Look at him being all mysterious with his cheekbones and turned up coat collar.

What’s on the menu? Legs!

I’d scratch that

How was it?

Just ask your gay friends their advice, before you
Get a spray tan on Holiday, in Taipei.

And at the end of the episode we see THAT THING!

If I ever said anything bad about imperial helmets, I apologise. Nothing beats this, but he still looks good.

The Hug and the Sexy Discretion Shot

Thank you to @what-left-unspoken​ for posting about this and making me realize I was not going crazy. I had idea going since I saw the episode, I screamed when if faded to black and it had an establishing shot. This is just insane. This is the original post. Go look at it. 

Let me humor you for a minute.

We saw Mycroft and Lady Smallwood alone, in a room (not a bedroom though). They put on their coats. She invites him for drinks. Mycroft is confused.This is coded. This is two people, a man and a woman, getting dressed. Everyone is taking this as code.

And we saw this:

They hold. Fade to black. Establishing shot from outside 221B (with a camera panning from the sky to the fucking window, I cant). They are putting on their coat. They talk for a while. John invites Sherlock to eat cake. He says yes.

“You never see anything anyway. They always, uh, turn the camera, and… play music and… y'know, the wind blows and then the curtain moves. You don’t see anything."— Frustrated viewer, The Truman Show (from tvtropes)

This is called a Sexy Discretion Shot:

Two characters have been talking, talking has turned to kissing, and as kissing starts to turn to… other things (and clothes start coming off), the camera suddenly decides to look elsewhere. The view pans away as itfades to black or rests upon an intimate but innocuous object like a burning candle, the curtains of the open window or the door being closed. (x)


Now. I’m not saying they had a shag on the living room floor. But it was CODED that way. It’s way more sexually coded than with Mycroft and Smallwood. They are hugging (Mycroft and Smallwood didn’t even TOUCH). There is a fade to black and an establishing shot. Why? We don’t need an establishing shot. We KNOW WHERE WE ARE. This is how they do in movies that can’t show sex. Kissing, fade to black, stablishing shot and get on with their day.   Honestly, if this was on the 40s/50s/60s it would be enough to assume they have had sex. Well, everyone is assuming Mycroft and Smallwood might have and THEY WERE JUST PUTTING THEIR COATS ON!!!! 

But it’s the 21st century, so I’m not saying it is what happened. But it is supposed to evoke that. Its supposed to take us to that mindset subconsciously. This is a romantic relationship. 

Is this not enough for you? Oh, please, keep reading

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the-universes-best-dressed  asked:

for a prompt! santa monica by everclear

Nice, get some everclear in the mix! Thanks for the prompt :) 


“Look,” I say, “it’s not you, it’s me. I think I’m just heading in a different direction right now. I can’t let our relationship hold me back anymore.”

Light, fastest man on Earth, superhero extraordinaire, stops struggling against his bonds to stare at me. “Did you kidnap me to…break up with me?”

My heart skips a beat. “No! I mean, we’re not even, like, dating so I’m not. Obviously.” I adjust my rubber gloves nervously, tucking my lab coat more securely into them. “Just, um, letting you know that you don’t need to save the day anymore. From me at least.” I laugh and stop abruptly, face flushing. My laugh is off putting, so I hear.

Light speed kicks the chair I’ve tied him to and grimaces when it doesn’t break.

“It’s titanium,” I say, shoving my hands into my coat’s pockets. “I’ll let you go, just wanted to tell you goodbye, I guess. We, uh, probably won’t be seeing each other again.”

“Are you dying?” he asks, strangely alarmed. He lowers his voice. “Or is someone threatening you?” His eyes narrow. “Is it Technomaniac? Because he’s from Texas, this isn’t even his turf, I can contact the heroes down there to come get him–”

“I’m not being threatened,” I blurt out. He’d kick another villain out of LA for me? Why? “I just, it’s time for me to move on, that’s all. I, well…”

“You are dying,” Light says, face horrified. “Oh my god, and I threw you through that window last week!”

“I’m not dying!” I throw my hands up in the air. “I’m quitting being a villain!”

The words ring in the empty lab. All of my equipment has already been disposed of, the experiments, everything. I’m ready for a new start, totally and completely.

“You’re…quitting.” Light seems unable to comprehend it. “Like, quitting quitting? Or taking a break? Or maybe you mean rebranding, I hear that’s popular these days–”

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I Just Don’t Know

Originally posted by hardyness

Request:  Okay since you’re flooded with requests, mine is pretty small :). Basically let’s pretend the reader is in the cell with Newt and he’s a nervous wreck (in tears) because of his creatures, so the reader comforts him and gives him so much love?

Notes: This is very short

You had been caught with a Niffler in New York and were being held in a cell until your execution. You heard the door being opened and a man with a blue coat being thrown in with you. He looked very upset and immediately went to sit in the corner.

“Hello there.” You said softly. You just heard soft cries coming from the man. You felt your heart cry out for him and so you went over and sat next to him. “I’m Y/N and I got put in here because they found me with my Niffler Harold and I have a little bag that’s filled with magical creatures that was also taken from me. I’m really scared of what they’ll do with them and you also look like you could use some company.” You rambled. The man turned to face you.

“My creatures were taken too.” The man said tears still falling down his face. “I’m Newt. Newt Scamander, I’m writing a book about magical creatures.”

“Well Mr Newt Scamander, when we get out of here, I think we should team up, help each other.” You said, putting an arm around Newt. He lifted his head.

“When?” Newt questioned.

“I’m currently practicing being an optimist. See there’s so many creatures out there who need our help so we have to live long enough to give it, and I think we will get out.” You said, placing your head on his shoulder. All your emotions just hit you like a truck as a realisation just hit you. “What if they’ve already killed Harold, Newt?” You asked, tears falling down your face. Newt looked at you.

“I don’t know Y/N, I just don’t know.” Newt said helplessly, you turned to each other and jus held each other for dear life. “We’ve just got to keep hoping.” Newt said. Any other magizoologist was a friend to him.

“Do you think it would be okay if we just stayed like this until they come for us?” You asked shyly.

“N-no it would be absolutely fine.” Newt said, caressing your hair. Somehow he just knew that would calm you down a bit. You were tracing circles on the back of his neck which was helping him.

2

SOMETHING HAPPENED IN THE AMBULANCE!!

Please allow me to show you an image of her… note her top button, hair and cardigan button.


Now let’s look at her afterwards… her hair has been redone, her top button is undone and her cardigan is unbuttoned (but still visable under the lab coat).

Oi oi! Perhaps it wasn’t only Sherlock who’d been examined. Also didn’t he say he was semi faking his condition? Molly would have had to be in on it too then.

Also to note… Sherlock had thought of her and contacted her, she had the night shift of babysitting him and he didn’t mind, he didn’t mind to go have cake with her.

I would just like to point out how John spoke to Sherlock… “I’m calling Molly Hooper, did you hear me? I said Molly Hooper!” Like he knows she’s a weapon to threaten him with.

anonymous asked:

Hi Hannah, do you have any Fenrys headcanons? Maybe him with the cadre idk I'm just desperate for anything Fenrys!

  • Fenrys only washes his hair with quality soap. He hates the generic stuff the rest of the cadre use, and he HATES when he can’t wash it. He doesn’t do “greasy” hair.
  • Sometimes he uses his ability to jump through space just to keep his clothes clean/to avoid a mess. For instance, this one time when Gavriel was about to rip the throat out of a Valg. Black blood came at him in a wave, and he disappeared to stand behind Gavriel nice and clean. Gavriel was like, “Really?” And Fenrys replied, “You looked like you could handle it on your own.”
  • Fenrys loves it when people brush his hair. In human form and in wolf form. He LOVES it. He once spent a weekend with a woman who’d always wanted a dog. So he let her rub his belly and brush his coat in wolf form. He thinks about her every now and then. Her name was Leah, and she smelt like basil and cherries. 
  • He once tried on women’s underwear just to prove to a woman that he would, indeed, look as good as she thought her would in them. What he never told anyone was that he actually like it.
  • He is a foodie. He’ll eat anything, but he has a palate like a master chef. If he could escape his blood oath with Maeve, he’d like to open a restaurant.
  • He’s thought about killing himself by breaking the blood oath with Maeve. He thought about it but only got to far as to put himself in a healers care for a week because it was painful and he realized he was being a selfish ass to leave Connal. The only one who ever knew was Gavriel. And when Fenrys was healed, he took him to the mountains and spent three months punishing him with grueling workouts and late night therapy chats. When Gavriel was done with him, Fenrys never thought about killing himself again.
  • Fenrys plays a mean fiddle.
  • He hates camping. If he is going to spend the night outdoors, he does it in wolf form because it’s somehow more bearable. He hates it when the cadre make him sleep outside in Fae form.
  • He likes wild things because he feels leashed to Maeve. The first time he sees the Thirteen fly in on their wyverns when they’re battling Maeve’s forces, he thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And for a moment, he wishes that he could be a wyvern, or a bird, or anything—just so he might fly with them and know freedom like they do.
  • After Maeve puts Aelin in the coffin and they board her ship, he thinks about killing himself again. Thinks that should Maeve give him the order to kill Aelin, he will use every last piece of his magic, heart, and soul to break his blood oath with her. And he doesn’t think it’s not such a bad way to die. He doesn’t think it’s such a bad way to die protecting the queen he wished he served. Protecting the queen who was more deserving of his loyalty in her infancy, than Maeve has been in all her thousands of years. 
Imagine #10 Charles Xavier (Request)

Requested by anon: Hey hun could i get one with charles where the reader has siren powers but like a literal mythological siren and shes looking for charles for anwers? thank ilove your writing

Hey, thanks for the request. I hope you like it! xoxo

Originally posted by endingthemes

Not my gif

Words: 1660

Warnings: Swears, typos (probably)

Your gaze immediately found him the moment you entered the bar and you couldn’t help but sigh in relief. You had been looking for this man for the past few months and always seemed to have just missed him. For a professor he was surprisingly difficult to find. But then again, you thought as you took off your coat and scarf, he wasn’t just a simple professor.

And he didn’t seem to be alone either, you realized, seeing him talk to the two men seated next to him by the counter. This wasn’t exactly convenient and you would have preferred talking to him in private, but you weren’t going to let this opportunity slip through your fingers, not after having awaited this moment ever since you had found out about the professor’s… well, genetic situation.

“Hey, baby. How come a pretty thing like you is here all alone?” You felt and arm snake around your shoulders and the smell of a very alcoholised and sweaty man hit you in a way that you were already used to. Drunken men always hit on you. Well, most men hit on you most of the time. High school had been nothing but uncomfortable dates for you, as being sexually appealing to teenage boys and simultaneously not being able to say no didn’t work out very well for you. But it wasn’t just that you were attractive and it had taken you a while to realize just how far your power over other people went. Unfortunately you had had to make the experience that teenage boys wouldn’t always be the biggest of your problems. And that, in your case, trying to talk yourself out of a situation often resulted into the exact opposite reaction from what you had been hoping for. You had kicked more balls, punched more noses und used more cans of pepper spray than you could count.

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Boss (Part #2)

Ahh! Part #2 to Boss is here! First off, thank you thank you THANK YOU for the  amazing and supportive response to the first one! I’m really hoping that this part doesn’t disappoint! The way this one leaves off, there’s definitiely enough plot for a part 3, just let me know if you want it! If you want to read the first part, click here. Thank you to the moon and back for reading! I hope you enjoy!

The lady in the white coat looked at you kindly before she spoke.

“Will the father be joining us today, or shall we begin?” There was a hint of sympathy in her tone but you could tell by her cool professionalism that you weren’t the only woman to ever show up alone to an appointment such as this.

You bit your lip, hoping to buy Harry some time. This wasn’t something you wanted to do without him but you didn’t exactly have all the time in the world to wait for him.

“We can get started,” you said finally.

With a small smile the nurse gathered her supplies and lifted your hospital gown up towards your breasts, exposing your slightly swollen stomach.

“The gel will be a little cool to the touch, but nothing too unpleasant,” she explained, slathering the cold substance across your skin. “Miss Y/N, you might want to look at the screen now.”

Emotion clogged your throat and tears sprang to your eyes. Your baby. Yours and Harry’s baby. Such a tiny thing that somehow managed to be the biggest thing in your life. It was so precious you almost didn’t think that you were worthy to have something that perfect inside of you. But the moment was bittersweet. There was nothing you wouldn’t give to have Harry’s hand in yours, his lips whispering sweet nothings in your ear about how the two of you made that little peanut.

At this stage, there wasn’t much to be said about your baby’s condition. After the nurse cleared you both for being healthy and at the right stage, you took the gown off and slipped your street clothes back on. You were placing your right foot into your shoe when your former boss came charging into the little room. His hair was neatly gelled to perfection and his black suit fit him snugly in all the right places.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Did I miss anything?” Harry asked frantically.

The nurse mashed her lips into a thin hard line and turned her back away. Obviously, it was a question she wanted you to answer.

“I…I’m done. I’m ready to leave,” you said slowly, wishing your words weren’t true.

Harry’s face fell and guilt filled his eyes. “My God, baby, you have no idea how…”

“Harry, Harry. Shh. It’s okay, we’re okay. Actually, we’re more than okay,” you soothed, placing your hand on your stomach.

He sighed and shook his head. “I wanted to be here. I should have been here. But the meeting ran late and I…”

You cut him off again. “I don’t want you beating yourself up over this. I was the one who insisted you go to work this morning. Right now, I just want to go home. I’m tired.” As soon as you spoke, a yawn left your mouth.

Harry nodded once and wrapped his strong arms around your body. Your face nestled into his warm chest and you breathed in his cologne. You were happy he still smelled just as delicious as ever. Unlike some other scents, this one didn’t cause you to run to the toilet with your hand over your mouth.

Harry’s hand rested on your knee the entire car ride home. Every chance he got, he apologized, until you finally shut him up by pressing your lips to his at a red light. You ran your hand through Harry’s hair for the remainder of the drive to relax him. The stress of work and missing your appointment were weighting heavily on him.

After he pulled into his driveway, Harry immediately stepped out of the driver’s side and jogged around to your door. It was cold for early December, and ever since you slipped on a patch of ice the previous week, Harry refused to let you walk unassisted. His concern was sweet and slightly unwarranted, but you didn’t want to protest against any opportunity of having Harry’s arms around your waist.

Dinner was a quiet affair that evening, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. Instead, it was spurred by the fact that Harry couldn’t stop looking at the picture of the ultrasound you had shown him. His thousand watt smile took up the majority of his face as he lightly brushed his thumb over the image. He almost couldn’t believe that something that beautiful was real. And his.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. Placing your fork down on the table, you covered his hand with yours.

“I know. She’s something, isn’t she?” you asked.

Harry’s eyes widened and his body froze. “It’s a girl?”

Part of him was overjoyed that he was having a daughter but the other half was torn up over the fact that he missed that announcement.

Hastily, you backtracked.

“No! I mean, I don’t know. It’s too early to tell. But it’s just a feeling I have. I keep seeing this little girl in my dreams. She has green eyes and curly brown hair and she’s just the most beautiful little thing,” you sighed dreamily.

Harry squeezed your hand. “Whatever it is, I’ll love it more than anything else. I already do.”

He took a sip of sparkling water and proceeded to eat his dinner. After a few more bites, you decided to bring up work.

“So Harry, you know how we have the budget meeting next week, I was thinking we could…” He didn’t let you finish.

“Woah, Y/N. I thought we agreed you weren’t going to work any longer.” His fork was frozen mid-air and his eyebrows were drawn over his eyes, the expression you saw a countless number of times in the board room.

You sat back in your chair. Technically, you had agreed to that, you just didn’t mean it when you did. The first few weeks had presented you with terrible morning sickness that prevented you from going in the office. You stayed at Harry’s and your sister came to keep you company.

The thing was, you wanted to work. You enjoyed the challenge and liked when your ideas were valued. Even though you were still in the first trimester, it wasn’t just the physical challenges that had Harry wanting you at home. Deadlines and pressures were stressful. So was office gossip. Which was another reason you thought Harry didn’t want you at work. Maybe he wanted you hidden.

“Harry, please. I haven’t been as sick lately, and I miss work. I won’t work throughout the entire pregnancy, but can we at least play it by year?” you asked.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. The expensive white fabric strained against his shoulders. “Trust me, I miss having you at work, too. But I can’t risk the stress messing with you or our baby. Please. I have enough money for the both of us. You don’t have to work another day in your life if you don’t want to.”

You scoffed. This was the last thing you wanted. You were with this man because you loved him. Not because you wanted a free ticket.

“How about I work half-days?” you compromised.

Harry just rolled his eyes in response.

“Why don’t you tell me why you really don’t want me in?” Your voice lowered. “Are you embarrassed of me or something? Are you ashamed to have gotten the new employee, straight out of college, knocked up?”

The only sound was that of Harry’s chair scraping against the hardwood floor.

“Up,” he said in a clipped tone.

You complied, and suddenly Harry was sitting in your chair with your legs straddling either side of his waist. His hands soothingly rubbed circles into your lower back which seemed to always be tight nowadays.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing, about you is shameful. The fact that I’m your boss and you’re my employee doesn’t change the fact that you’re the smartest, most beautiful and kindest woman I’ve ever met. I’ve wanted you since the first time I’ve set my eyes on you, and I always will.” His lips gently pressed onto your forehead.

You let your body warm with his words before you spoke. “It’s just that I know what Lindsay and Abby say about me so I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to keep your distance from me at the office.”

Harry’s jaw tensed and he tightened his grip around you. “They bully you? Since when?”

“Um, since my first day,” you said, surprised Harry had no idea.

“Okay. Well, they’re fired,” Harry said matter-of-factly.

“Wait, what?”

“You think I’m going to keep those who make others uncomfortable, especially when the one they’re hurting is you? I don’t think so, Y/N.”

You smiled against his chest. Your fingers traced the tattoo peeking through his shirt. You were shocked to say the least when you first discovered them. But even more so when you flipped through his old photo album and saw the long hair he sported in his early twenties. You had to admit, he rocked the man bun.

“Harry,” you said suddenly.

“Mmm?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about tomorrow?”

Harry sighed. “Because I don’t know if I’m going yet.”

You looked up at him. “What do you mean? It’s your parents’ Christmas party. You have to go,” you said.

You had found the invitation in a kitchen drawer after looking for a recipe. The card was cream and heavy, and an indicator that Harry wasn’t the only successful person in his family.

“Do you want to go?” he asked you. “Because I’ll only go if you want to. I won’t go alone.”

You plastered on a sweet smile and flustered your lashes.

“Looks like we’re going then,” he said. He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You didn’t think you personally knew as many people as the number that occupied the ballroom.

With wide eyes, Harry took in the scene in front of him. “I swear, they invite every bloody person they know.”

Everyone in attendance looked so put together and just… expensive. The only reason why you might possibly fit in with the crowd was the man on your arm. The black dress you were wearing was classy and concealed any bump you might already have, but no matter what, you doubted you stood out as much.

Harry swore under his breath when his eyes landed on a slightly older couple by the grand piano. Her sequined dress was long and silver and the man’s tie was a near exact shade. As soon as you saw them, you knew they had to be Harry’s parents. But they weren’t behind Harry’s curse. It was the willowy beautiful woman standing beside them. Her lips matched the vibrant red of her dress. Her black hair was up in a chignon and her level of sophistication was something you couldn’t even dream of matching. Luckily, by the time you and Harry approached Eileen and Tom, the statuesque beauty was long gone.

“Mom. Dad.” Harry said in greeting. “What the hell is Alisha doing here?”

His words shocked you. Surely he wasn’t going to leave you to introduce yourself?

“Darling,” Eileen said. “She’s an old, dear friend. It’s a shame you just missed her. Hopefully you’ll see her around.”

“Who’s this new friend, son?” Tom looked at you with an amused gleam in his eye.

Harry cleared his throat. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend,” he said.

Eileen smiled at you and the word “fake” rang through your mind.

“Nice to meet you both,” you said shyly.

A waiter with a tray of champagne passed by and left the entire thing on the piano.

“Harry, Y/N, have a drink,” Tom said, helping himself to a glass. “You won’t find a better champagne anywhere else.”

You politely declined. Harry took one but had yet to take a sip.

“Oh come on, I insist.”

Still, you declined.

“Oh, come on, now!” Tom was persistent.

“Dad!” Harry said.

“God, Tom, have you gotten that old?” Eileen sneered. “She’s pregnant. Look at her. How else would she be here with Harry right now?”

You had never felt smaller in your entire life. When the sting of Eileen’s venomous bite subsided, a dangerous thought occurred to you.

“Pregnant?” Tom was puzzled, as though the concept was foreign to him.

“You haven’t told them?” you whispered.

For his part, Harry stood frozen, his mouth fallen in a small ‘o.’

Excusing yourself, you walked further into the crowd, just wanting to be lost for a few moments.

“Y/N! Wait,” Harry’s arm lightly grabbed onto yours. You slowed.

“What Harry?”

He licked his lips. “See this is exactly why I didn’t want to come. And why I didn’t tell them. My parents, they’re freaking crazy, okay? And I don’t care what they say. I only care about you.”

He leaned in and kissed you. Well, it certainly made sense.

“Can we go now?” you asked.

“Of course.”

As the two of you were walking out, a jovial looking man with white hair stopped Harry. You had seen this man’s picture in Harry’s office. He was the one who helped him found the company. Harry gave you a look as if to say, only for a few minutes. You excused yourself to use the ladies’ room.

By the time you returned, Harry was nowhere to be found. You explored the grand room with little luck. You heard hushed voices from a hallway. You were about to turn around when you realized one of them sounded all too familiar. As if in slow motion, you looked down the hall, and saw Harry’s lips pressed against the red of Alisha’s.

Heartbroken and humiliated, you turned on your heel to get the hell out of there. Harry was too preoccupied to even notice you.

“Leaving so soon?” Tom asked as you stormed past him.

“Of course, dear, it’s passed her bedtime,” Eileen said. Maybe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

For the first time in two months, you slept in your own bed. Your pillowcase was soaked with your tears. They still continued to fall long after you listened to Harry’s message. Your dad picked you up from the party and drove you home with no questions asked. He was a man of few words, but his comfort was exactly what you needed. Harry had guessed what you saw and insisted that she was the one who kissed him. You didn’t care. He kissed back. But that wasn’t even the root of the problem. Seeing her with him reminded you of how little you belonged with him. That was what hurt.

Your sister came over the following day, intent on having a junk food and movie day.

“Chocolate won’t hurt the baby,” she promised.

But maybe it did. Halfway through the second movie, unbearable cramps pierced through your back, causing you to scream in agony.

“You okay?” your sister asked. “I’m pretty sure a pregnant woman isn’t supposed to sound like that.”

The pain refused to subside and you felt wetness in between your legs. Slowly, in your living room, you pulled your pants down and saw the one colour you were praying you wouldn’t see.

Within minutes, your sister was driving you to the hospital. The nurse on duty was slightly worried when you explained your situation, which did nothing to calm your nerves.

You were lying flat on your back staring at the ceiling when Harry came into the room. Your sister must have called him.

His finger lightly caressed your cheek. You recoiled from his touch.

“Y/N? Are you okay, please tell me you’re okay?” He whispered.

You shut your eyes and turned on your side away from him.

“Please, Y/N, don’t shut me out. Let me be here for you.”

“Go away, Harry,” you cried.

“No,” he said simply.

“Yes!” you cried even harder. “There’s no reason for you to be here. I’ve lost the baby.”

All the air was sucked from the room. You weren’t sure when, but Harry eventually left and the nurse entered.

“Okay, Y/N. We have the results from your tests. Make sure to get more fluids and rest, but other than that, you and the baby are perfectly healthy.”

Anyone but Him

Title: Anyone but Him

Paring: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,804

Warning: touch of angst and smut

Request by @sandlee44 “Jealous Dean, smut and angst”

A/N: Enjoy! Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything!


“Y/N are you ready yet?” Dean was starting to get impatient. “You said you would be ready in fifteen minutes!”

“Shut up Dean. God you’re annoying, you need to relax.” Taking a final look in the mirror you adjusted your shirt, making sure just enough of the girls were showing, and flipped your hair a few times before opening the door. “I’m done okay? I just need to grab my coat.”

Dean turned and just stared at you as you bent over grabbing your things. You had remembered to pack your favorite jeans that hugged your curves just right and your heeled boots made your ass look amazing. The flowy top you had on showed everything you wanted it to while not being too revealing.

“I’m ready,” you stood and turned to the door, “what are you staring at? Let’s go, you were just yelling about it a minute ago.”

Dean shook his head, “what? Oh, yeah, let’s go.”  Dean held back as you walked, loving the way your hips swayed.

Keep reading

Warnings: None

Words: 286

“Cass, for the hundredth time, I’m perfectly fine,” You insisted stubbornly as you sat on one of the beds in the medical facility. You glanced down and placed your hand over the large bump that you often kept concealed underneath a thick coat or a large, loose fitting shirt. “It was just a little stomach pain, but it’s gone now. I feel perfectly fine.”

Smiling warily, Cassian reached down and gently smoothed your hair back. “Yes, I know you do, but let’s just wait and see what your examination results say. Just to be on the safe side.” He noticed you were about to protest again and he gave you a desperate, pleading look. “Please, for once in your life, just do as I ask you without arguing with me.”

You let out a small sigh of defeat. “Okay, okay. You win, Cass. We’ll stay and wait for the results.”

He leaned down, softly pressing his lips to your forehead. “Thank you.”

“Captain.” 

You both looked up to see one of the medical droids approaching you, followed by the human female nurse who had assisted you during your examination.

“We have her results,” the droid stated, stopping at the foot of the bed. 

“And?” Cassian prompted, anxiously. “Is everything okay? Is the baby okay?”

“Yes, I’m happy to report that both mother and babies are in perfect health.”

Your heart stopped, and judging by the look on his face, so had Cassian’s.

Through the shock, you somehow managed to find your voice. “Babies?”

Cassian turned back to the medical droid with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, did you just say babies? As in, more than one?”

The droid nodded. “Yes, Captain Andor, she is carrying twins. Congratulations.” 



The first imagine I posted got more feedback than I thought it would, thank you all so much! Since it wasn’t a total bust, I decided to write another. x

Sinking - (Newt Scamander x Reader)

(WARNING: This is extremely angst filled, and contains mentions of suicide. A very abstract piece, fueled by own feelings of drowning in finals.)

-

Letting your backpack and coat slide fall down onto the ground by the foot of an old dead tree, you looked up at the sky through the trees. The golden glow of evening was just beginning to spread through the sky, and a few clouds sat overhead. You shivered, rubbing your bare arms. Making your way down one of the many abandoned paths that led through the woods, you brushed aside the bushes absently. Your fingers were numb from the cold, and your hair was snagging on the branches as you ducked under them.

Finally reaching the edge of the lake, you stared out over the water. The sun reflected off its surface, and the only sound was the occasional cry of a seagull as it traveled over from the sea. Seeing a fallen tree that extended out over the dark water of the lake, you started to carefully walk out on it. Sitting down on one of the old branches that now dipped down into the depths, you leaned back onto the tree.

Sighing deeply, you stared down into the murky water. You felt almost like the shell of who you once were. Letting your eyes sag slightly, you began to sing to yourself quietly. Breaking off pieces of bark and dropping them into the water to watch them float away, your eyes closed all the way. Brow furrowing, you sat completely still. Your chest rose and fell with your breathing, but that was the only sign that you were still alive.

A single tear slipped out from underneath your eyelid, catching on your stark black lashes before making its way slowly down your cheek. It was a piece of crystal on a fragile clay doll. Your hands slipped of their place on the branch, trailing through the water. The nails were tinged blue, a fine dab of paint on untouched white.

“Y/n?” The voice was faint, somewhere in the forest you had emerged from. “Y/n?” The voice was more panicked now.

Your eyes fluttered, but didn’t open, the only sign that you had heard anything. You were sliding, the water drawing you in. Hair fanning out above the surface, mixing with the mud that had been stirred up from the bottom. Your eyes opened, staring out into the blackness. Lips parted, a garish streak of red in the depths. A bubble danced to the surface, fleeing up to the distant rays of light that strained to touch it.

The peace was ruptured by waves. Waves of emotion, waves of noise, waves of water. A new hand, this one full of life and pain, grasping at the empty water. A face, eyes full of panic and desperation, searching through the brown.

…..

….

..

.

Your eyes opened and saw white. Turning your head, you drew in a harsh breath at the jolt of pain that shot through you. You tried to speak, but no words left your mouth. Eyes falling on the person sitting by your bedside, they opened wide in surprise. “Newt?” A cracked whisper, matching your emotional state.

His head shot up from where it had been resting on his arms. You could see the tear tracks that led down from his swollen red eyes from when he had been crying. “I’m sorry.” You stretched out a still numb hand to stroke his cheek clumsily.

“No, I’m sorry. I should have known.” His arms were around you, and he was so warm. “I am so sorry.” His voice cracked, and his face was buried in your shoulder.

“I thought-“ You trailed off, eyes closing.

“I know. I know.” He soothed you through the grief in his own voice. “You’re home now. Home.”

“Home.” You echoed, feeling as the brittle pieces of your mind slowly began to heal.

Clockstrike Pt. 2

Calfreezy x Reader #10

Warnings: nope just a classic party scene

Note: This is written with the amazing @sydneyxix who has posted the first part! Thank ya Syd for writing this with me and I hope you guys like part 2. Happy New Years xx ~ K

| Part One |

—————————————————— 

“Well in that case,” you said as you dropped your coat from your shoulders and quickly pulled it off you in general. “What’s the harm?” you asked rhetorically looking up to his baby blue eyes, that quickly scanned your figure, not going unnoticed by you.

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8

Blue and Pink snowflake dress coats to keep you warm and snuggly this December. Is it just me or does the blue version look kind of like something Weiss Shnee or Elsa would wear? Maybe I just need to let it go.

As always if you have a clothing or path request please send me an ask or IM or contact me on twitter at LockeAndKei. It doesn’t cost a bell or a cent and always makes my day.

Okay but Cas arriving at the bunker after a phone call from Sam, because after that witch hunt there is clearly something wrong with Dean, but Sam and Charlie can’t figure out quite what it is; all they know is that Dean keeps babbling and saying things that he usually wouldn’t say, but they’re not sure if he even means them or not.

Then as soon as Cas sets one foot in the bunker, Dean all but jumping up from his chair and running up to the now very bewildered angel, Dean’s fingers urgently grabbing the lapels of Cas’ coat before he blurts out “don’t take this the wrong way man, but will you please just let me kiss that pretty mouth of yours already because I don’t think I can stand it if I have to wait another eight freaking years!” 

And in the background, Sam and Charlie looking up from their books about ancient witchcraft while exchanging a deadpan glance and going

“Truth spell?”

“Truth spell.”

get real | isaiah/reader

i had anon requests for isaiah fluff and sneaking around/getting caught

“I need a place to stay”

Isaiah stepped aside in the doorway, letting you in the house.

“What happened?”

“Ughhh…me and Polly had a fight” you waved your hand “let’s not”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need some space. Your dad home?”

“Nah, won’t be back tonight. We’re safe” He pecked a kiss to your temple, moving behind you to set the kettle going. He can’t have been home long, his coat draped over the chair, his pockets half emptied onto the table top. He was down to his shirt with his sleeves rolled up. He looked at home.

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favourite phrases heard in the lab
  • “is it supposed to look like that?” “i don’t know, i don’t care anymore”
  • “dont mind me watching you i just have no idea what i’m doing” “me neither”
  • *walks past a guy’s beaker that’s frothing and overflowing into the sink* “well that’s happening” “it sure is”
  • “if it’s not smelly, it’s not chemistry” “i dont know, phys chem doesnt really smell” “yeah but that’s not real chemistry”
  • “it feels like a great british bakeoff technical challenge”
  • “oh my god it said 1ml not 10ml! oh well”
  • *someone pokes their head around the corner* “is it you guys’ experiment that stinks like fish?”
  • “it looks like a souffle” “then i never want to eat souffle again”
  • *spills hazardous chemicals on self* “oops” *wipes hands on lab coat*
  • “i just broke my beaker. nevermind, at least i don’t have to clean it”
  • “lets try and get this done as quickly as possible. firstly, because it’s friday and you all want to get out of here and go home, and secondly, because it’s friday and i want to get out of here and go home”
2

“He’s shutting me out, just like he’s shut out everyone else. I don’t know what I can do to stop it,” you confessed, your chest heaving with a sigh as you sipped your tea, basking in the calm silence that was not an often thing at 6 Watery Lane. Polly let out a sigh of her own from the other side of the table as she set down her own tea mug, reaching for a cigarette.

“You and I both know Tommy. He won’t change his mind unless he’s forced, and even then he might just not,” Polly scoffed, releasing a breath of smoke as she looked at you. “Go talk to him, there’s no doubt he’s at the Garrison at this hour. Convince him before out get shut out completely.” You finished your tea, muttering a goodbye and thank you to Polly before you grabbed your coat and headed out the door. It was dark out, a chill in the air as you turned down the street towards the lively pub. As you walked you felt yourself shiver, not just from the cold but the anticipation as you tried to figure out what yo would say to him.

Your mind was clouded with many different thoughts as your stepped up to the door of the pub, inhaling deeply before you ducked your head into the warm, stench soaked air. It was so loud, men chanting and singing in their drunken stupor. Some were even up dancing. You tried to hide our amusement as you watched a man fall flat onto his face, breaking the beer bottle in his hand on the way down. You shook your head as you scanned the crowd, trying to make sure Tommy wasn’t at the bar or a booth with friends before you turned to the private room, relieved to hear Arthur’s familiar laugh as you turned the knob and opened the door. The sight was no that unusual. Arthur was standing, a beer glass in his hand beside two pails of beer as John sat beside him, a glass in his hand as well though he was chugging it.

“Y/N!” Arthur shouted in greeting, taking a few steps towards you as you stepped away from the door and rolled your eyes as the drunken man.

“I wonder if I will ever see you sober and yourself at this time at night,” you laughed, watching as Arthur threw his arms around you and turned to John.

“She’s so pretty isn’t she John boy. If Tommy hadn’t gotten her first, I would’ve!” he shouted, stumbling over his words slightly in his drunken state. Speaking of the devil, your eyes scanned the room until they found Tommy, sitting in the corner with a very pretty blonde girl leaning over and whispering in his ear. He seemed oblivious to your arrival until his eyes flickered to you. While you raised an eyebrow, flickering your gaze to the woman who was still speaking, Tommy remained perfectly calm, not one feature of his moving as the woman finally finished what she was saying and stood straight. He said something low, his eyes still focused on you. You caught the woman’s gaze move to your for a moment before she left the room with a irritated huff, glaring at you as she did, holding an empty beer pail in her hand.

“Got yourself a new whore Tommy?” you asked, just loud enough for him to head as the door swung shut. Arthur heard as well, his arm still draped over your shoulder as he barked a laugh.

“The bar wench certainly is trying, you best look out Y/N, she might just steal your Shelby,” Arthur slurred, pulling his arm away from you as he looked over your head though you kept your eyes on him.

“If the Shelby in question keeps acting like a whore himself, she won’t be stealing anything, just taking what’s for grabs,” you shot back, smirking to Arthur as his eyes went wide with amusement.

Not a second later you felt a strong hand grip your upper arm before you were being pulled from the room. Arthur and John laughed, yelled their goodbyes and goodlucks as Tommy dragged you out of the pub and into the cold street. You knew there was no way to pull yourself from his grasp so you simply followed him. He was already pissed enough from your comment, no way in hell you were going to provoke him any further. He lead you back to your own house, pulling you up the stairs and glaring at the door while you found your keys. Once you were inside, your coat hanging on a handle and your keys on the small bench beside the door you felt two hands grab at your waist and suddenly you were pressed against the door, staring up into the blazing eyes of Thomas Shelby.

“What was that huh? What did you do that for Y/N?” he hissed, not able to control his temper as his hands moved to hold onto your upper arms, the tight grip resulting in a harsh sting that you chose to ignore for the time being.

“I was just speaking the truth Tommy. If you can’t keep it in your trousers you have no business being mine,” you said rather bluntly, feeling the grip on your arms tighten just a bit as head leaned further down so our nose were only a few millimeters from brushing against one another. “Did you do it Tommy? Did you fuck the barmaid?”

“Do you really wanna know the answer to that?” he asked, his face regaining its neutral countenance as your eyes dropped to his chest, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you began to go limp against him. “I’ll tell you Y/N, just ask the question.”

“Why are you shutting me out?” your head shot up, seeing that you had caught him off guard as you continued, “Why do you act like this and then change on a dime? What do you want from me Tommy Shelby? Why do you make me wish I could hate you?”

Silence enveloped the two of you as Tommy’s hands slowly loosened their grip, falling to loosely grasp your waist as he took as step closer, letting his body brush flush against yours. Your own hands trailed up his arms, over his shirt sleeves and up his tense neck till they reached up into the long part of his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands. “I love you Tommy Shelby,” you whispered, pulling him down so that your foreheads pressed together for a moment before you closed your eyes, feeling your noses brush together. “Tell me Tommy, tell me and I’m yours.”

“I didn’t sleep with the barmaid,” he confessed, reaching his hands around you and pressing his warm palms against your dress. You let a small smile grace your lips are you opened your eyes, peering into his deep blue ones as you leaned closer.

“I know. I know.”


Gif Credit: gif does not belong to this blog nor do we make any claim to it.

I wrote a quick thing

Jack didn’t bother knocking as he swaggered into Baker Street. “I have seen a few things Sherlock Holmes, but you’ve really let yourself go, haven’t you?” Jack plopped himself onto the sofa and put his feet up.

Sherlock didn’t look up from where he was perched in his chair. “Mycroft sent you.”

“Naw. It’s all over. you’ve locked yourself in your flat and aren’t coming out, aren’t seeing clients. Just growing a beard of sorrow and taking all the drugs, apparently.”

Jack pulled an envelope out of his coat. “Got a puzzle for you.”

“As you so eloquently put it, I’m not exactly in shape to go chasing weevils.”

“Don’t even have to leave that chair.” Jack stretched. “You have dinner tonight?”

Sherlock scoffed.

“That’s what I thought.” Jack got up and dropped the envelope in his lap. “I’m gonna go get some chips. I’ll be back in fifteen.”

“And why am I going to help you?”

“Well, A) I’m bringing chips. B) You’re not doing anything else and C) because I’m cute.” Jack tousled Sherlock’s hair, plopped a kiss on the top of his head and made his way out, leaving the flat much quieter then before he’d appeared.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes in the direction Jack had gone, but his shaking hands opened the envelope he’d left behind.