no one will agree with me but whatevs

Bet On Me

Reggie x Reader

A/N: This is my first ever fic and I hope you all like it!! Requests for all other Riverdale characters are open!! (This is my first fic because Reggie is bae)

Word Count: 3369

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst, violence, heavy make-out session (is that even a warning?)

Summary: Reggie is dared to date Y/N, the sweet and popular untouched cheerleader. He does so, although not expecting to fall for her in the process.

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My boyfriend told me over text that he didn't know the Minotaur story
  • Boyfriend: I... I don't even know the story that well babe, I can't even say xD
  • Me: Okay so
  • Me: Poseidon gives a bull to King Minos, the best and shiniest bull you ever saw, and he's like "You can have this, but only if you promise to sacrifice it to me later" and Minos is like "Sure yeah okay man whatever" so Poseidon sends this bestest bull ever galloping up out of the salty sea spray, and everyone standing around is like "Hot fuck look at that bull" And Minos agrees, and he likes the bull SO much he decides to just quietly sort of...keep it. And he does kill a bull for Poseidon but it's one of his own, lame normal bulls, and Poseidon's no pushover so of course he notices.
  • Me: Poseidon is also notoriously easily angered, and he's royal pissed about this, so he comes up with one of the most devious punishments ever, and he infects Minos' wife Pasiphae with a desperate, DESPERATE thirst for the bull. Like she can think of nothing but getting some of that hot Bull D.
  • Boyfriend: ..........Thefuck.
  • Me: But it's hard to convince a bull, especially a divinely spawned bull, to fuck you if you are in fact not a cow but a human queen, so she comes up with a plan
  • Boyfriend: I thought some god comes down in bull form and fucks her??
  • Me: Ohh, no no no, that's the much much more tame story of Europa, who has sex with Zeus in bull form. This is different
  • Me: She goes to the best inventor she knows, Daedalus, and she's like "I need this bull to fuck me I NEED IT" and Daedalus is like "That's really weird maybe you should talk to someone" and she's like "I am talking to you and I am your queen so you better fucking make this happen for me I am going to peel my own skin off if I don't get some bull dick ASAP. But he doesn't want me because I am not fat, four-legged, and mooing."
  • Boyfriend: Oh..... oh no.
  • Me: So Daedalus shrugs, probably shudders a little, and builds the prettiest, most fuckable wooden cow a bull ever saw, but he makes it hollow, presumably with some openings in some awkward places.
  • Boyfriend: OH GOD. NO.
  • Me: So Pasiphae puts this monstrosity in the field with the bull, climbs in it, and waits. And Daedalus really is a skilled inventor, and he apparently knows what a bull likes, because Pasiphae finally gets the hot bull loving she's been dreaming of
  • Boyfriend: I........ I need an aspirin. That is disgusting.
  • Me: Only she apparently hasn't been tracking her cycles, because she gets pregnant, and births the minotaur and King Minos is like "What the fuck?" and Pasiphae is like "Honey I need to tell you something"
  • Me: And that is how it happened
  • Boyfriend: That is NOT HOW THAT WORKS
  • Me: Welcome to Mythology.
His || Jungkook || 0.8

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8

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Long-ass SB/ho tips outline and I don’t even care

I’m on a roll today haha.  Been typing these out as I think of them all week, so here is a list of things in order of what I perceive to be least to most talked about:

1. Be able to leave at any time. You never know when you’re going to have to make a run for it or if you feel unsafe and need to bounce.  This includes:

  • Know your exits.  Not all places have the exit the same as the entrance.  Figure out where the exit is either before you walk in or as soon as you do.
  • Keep all your things as close together as possible.  Pretty easy if you’re in a public place, but if you are at a hotel or his house or something, try to either keep everything packed or all your things in one place.  This makes you look neat and organized too, or at least you can claim that if he calls you on it.
  • When you’re done brushing your teeth, pack away your toothbrush again.  This goes for everything.  When you use it, put it back.
  • Keep your dirty clothes folded next to your suitcase, if not in it.
  • Keep your purse on your person or with your things.  I usually put it on the nightstand so it’s easy to remember, and my clothes/rest of my things usually end up next to the bed anyway.  Take your bag to the bathroom, especially if there are things inside that reveal your identity if you don’t want him to see.
  • If you take off your clothes, leave them right-side-out.  If you don’t do it as you take your clothes off, just fix them as soon as they’re off.  Leave all your clothes in one place.  If you’re naked and need to run, this speeds up the process and you don’t look a complete mess when you get outside.
    • For your shirt, grab the bottom hem and pull it over your head.  Once the neck clears your head, take the hem of one sleeve and pull your arm out of it.  Then use that arm to hold both sleeves as you remove your other arm.  This leaves you holding both sleeves by the ends as the shirt hangs down and your shirt stays ready to be put on quickly.
    • For your pants, step on the hem with one foot to slide the other leg out.  Might be a little tough with skinny jeans or leggings, but try to pull from the bottoms and slide out instead of peeling them off your body.
  • Have the number for a local taxi service saved in your phone.  Or Uber, or a friend nearby, or whatever you feel like.  Don’t rely on him to get you home.
  • Pack a pair of flats if you can because running in heels is way too hard.
  • If you do need to leave, put on your underwear, then pants.  Don’t need to wear the bra.  Put on your shirt, grab your things and leave.  Run to the staircase–don’t risk the elevator in case a bunch of people with luggage hold it up long enough for him to find you there.  Go barefoot down the stairs, then put on your shoes after you’ve reached the bottom.  At this point you should be holding your purse and bra, maybe socks, jacket, heels if you packed flats, and jewelry.  As you walk to the door, put your jewelry and bra in your purse if you can.  Put socks in the heels, or hold them if you’re wearing the heels.  Get into the taxi.  Put your bra on around your stomach, then pull it up under your shirt so you’re wearing it like a strapless bra (you can fix this later if you want).  Put on your socks if you have them.  Double check that you grabbed everything.  Get home safe.

2. Have a safe place to go to if needed.  This is anywhere very public and preferably somewhere you cannot be followed.  Know how to get there from wherever you are.

  • If you have a membership at a gym, they usually check membership cards at the door. 
  • If you are military/dependent, go on base. 
  • Go to your place of work and hide in the break room.  If your coworkers ask, say it was a Tinder date gone wrong and this creepy old guy is following you.
  • Worst case scenario, go to the bathroom in a public place.  Enlist the help of other women in there/call the hostess of the restaurant or a nearby store and explain the situation.

3. Put your phone on airplane mode.  Turn WiFi and location off.  I’ve seen it mentioned before where people pop up as Facebook suggestions.  If you spend a lot of time in the same area as someone, Facebook knows.  Even with location off, it can tell your location via WiFi access point and which cell your phone is connected to.  Turning off location and WiFi will help, but you need to disconnect your phone from service to block that avenue too.  I would say turn your phone off entirely, but my phone takes 6 million years to power on, so that could be dangerous in an emergency.  Turning off airplane mode can allow you to reconnect quickly to service.  (This is also useful because then your phone won’t be buzzing and stuff.  No distractions.)

4. Tell a friend where you’re going and what time you expect to be back.  Keep them updated with changes.  Even if they don’t respond, having it in writing somewhere can keep you safe if anything happens.  Message me where you’re going if you don’t have anyone else idgaf.

5. Ask for everything upfront.  Whatever you agreed on (cash, gifts, dinner, whatever), make sure you get it first.  I feel like everyone on Tumblr already knows this, but maybe one person will read this who hadn’t read it elsewhere and it’ll help.

6. Keep these things in your bag.

As always, add stuff I didn’t think of if you have anything!  Stay safe and may the sugar gods bless you all.

anonymous asked:

So, first off, hi there! Second... what kind of things do you think nerd!Derek would do to try and get jock!Stiles' attention? Or, what kind of cutesy things do you think jock!Stiles would attempt to make nerd!Derek notice him and laugh. (Spoiler alert, Derek already does notice him, but shhhh!)

So I combined these two prompts, I hope you guys don’t mind! Have some more nerd!Derek from me ^^

(Also, my eternal thanks to both @pale-silver-comb and @halesheart for telling me my writing isn’t horseshit and I should continue)

Title: You Hold My Attention (Without Even Trying)

“Oh my god, again?”

Scott frowns. “This is seriously getting out of hand.”

“Ugh, I know,” Stiles says as he bends down to pick up the flowers – tulips today – that dropped out of his locker when he opened it. “I mean, it was cute at first, but after the fifth time you get wet flowers smacked into your face, it kind of gets old.”

Speaking of wet flowers, they’re soaking through his shirt where he was cradling them under his arm. He holds them out in front of him, scrunching his face when they drip onto his sneakers. He’s not exaggerating when he says he’s kind of tired of them. Don’t get him wrong, he still appreciates the fact that someone takes the time out of their day to buy him flowers, but it’s just a bit – well – too much.

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Hard To Tell - Jeff Atkins/Reader

chapter 1: dynamics

word count: 807

chapter 1 (you’re here!) - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6

Scanning the questions on the paper you were holding, you couldn’t decipher them. You were relatively smart, being in advanced classes, but some homework questions you got were challenging. The group you hung out with wouldn’t be able to figure out this.

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So I got to thinking the other day, why does every FAH story I’ve read always have the crew as an established front? Like where’s the fic where Geoff owes a shitload of money and in order to pay it back he comes up with a plan to rob a casino (or a bank whichever) and he goes to his closest friend Jack for help. And at first she’s like “Fuck dude, you’re one your own” but then she comes around and she’s like “What do you need from me?” And Geoff’s like “Fuck if I know, I’ve never robbed anything before.”

So together, the two of them start doing research and realize they’re going to need a crew. So they start poking around the criminal underground or whatever, trying to find someone willing to help, and they kind of stumble on this two-bit hacker. And Gavin is like “Am I going to get paid? And if yes, when can I start?” So once they agree to pay him (which means they have to steal more money) Gavin uses what little contacts he has to find a sniper (Ray) willing to help. But Ray wants money, too, so they have to steal even more. And then they find a demolitions expert who’s getting bored working at construction sights and wants to expand his horizons, but again Michael wants payment. And then Jack starts thinking she wants to get paid, too, and Geoff’s just like “This plan is a disaster.”

But the heist comes together, and these guys have no idea what they’re doing so they’re mostly winging it, and the day of the heist some masked weirdo shows up out of the blue, just sitting on Geoff’s couch, and Ryan’s like “I heard there’s money involved I want in.”

So Geoff, who is half asleep and doesn’t even want to argue, somehow finds a spot for Ryan and these six idiots who have never robbed a bank head out to do just that and it goes to shit. Because of course it does, and the only reason any of them survive is because two freelance assassins step in and afterward Geoff is like “I suppose you two want to get paid too?” And Lindsay and Jeremy share a glance before shrugging and Lindsay says “A thank you would have been enough, but who the fuck says no to money?”

Basically I really want an amateur thieves FAHC au.

I Can’t Help It - Archie x Reader

I took some liberties with it, I hope you don’t mind! I made Reggie a bit of a sleaze too lol. And I made it as gender neutral as possible! Hope you enjoy!


Originally posted by kevinkeller

“Arch?” You frown, peering into the supposedly empty classroom, “What are you doing… here?”

He steps into view, a guilty look upon his face. How was he going to explain this to you?

“I was just… I left a book behind,” he shrugs, attempting to sidestep you into the corridor.

“Nice try, Andrews,” you move to block his path, “I know when you’re lying,”

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It’s crazy. You’re raised to believe that when you meet “the one” you’re supposed to feel nervous, uncomfortable, anxious. But I met you, and everything felt right. I wasn’t scared because for whatever reason I knew I could trust you. I knew I could be myself with you. Since day one. I knew I could laugh like a fucking seal, that I could sing like no one was listening even though you were right next to me. I could say the weirdest shit with my delirious 3 am thoughts and you would giggle and agree. Or you’d make fun of me. But even then when you’re laughing at me I don’t feel vulnerable, because you do dumb shit too and I love it. I love that we can just be us.
That’s how it should feel. That’s how it should always feel.
—  Morning thoughts when you’re in my bed.
Google made me proud today.

A little while ago, I was on a mission to show a friend of mine the best doggo in the world, Chica. I began to type ‘mark fischbach chica’ and as Google tried to read my mind, as it always does, I froze and tears welled in my eyes.

‘mark fischbach changing the world’ now at this moment I was mid sentence on Skype so my friend started to panic slightly because of my sudden pause. When I finally found my voice again I explained what had caught me off guard. To which my friend replied, “Why did that hit you so hard? The guy does charity work right?”

Years of watching Mark, all the skits, all the let’s plays, all the goofy stuff that falls in the mix as well, even if I didn’t necessarily like the video or find it particularly funny I always watched from beginning to end to show my support for his channel. Not because I was staring at his face [though he his a looker], not because of being his biggest fan [though I’m probably up there], not even just to have background noise [I like to actually watch the videos]. I would watch them in their entirety because maybe the money made from that time watching that particular video would enable him to do his next big event that would save people’s live by giving them the hope they had lost, fund another charity so its research could go on and maybe even find a cure, all of that and more.

Today I watched his PAX East panel, not in person sadly but live on twitch. At the end when it appeared he was going to break down and cry [all while I’m pointing and screaming at my TV for him not to cry over and over again because though I know he’s crying because his heart is full of joy and pride, it makes me tear up too, dang you Mark] His ending remarks both filled me with happiness and sadness.

Mind you now in the Skype call, showing pictures of Chica has fallen to the back burner [sorry Chica-bica] and I had began rambling about all the different charities Mark has helped raise awareness and money for, how his channel has become this massive community full of love and kindness and were only able to what it is today because no matter what video you click on of Marks, be it his oldest videos or one he posted a few hours ago, behind those dick jokes, infectious laugh, screams, two-finger defense strategies, and everything else; he’s still just a man who wants to change the world.

My exact words before the Skype call was ended with my friend saying I’m gonna go check out this guys videos [got you a new subscriber Mark! Woo!] were, “I froze when I saw that come up on the auto-complete search results because it’s amazing. I froze and damn near started crying my ****in eyes out because this man who one a daily basis calls himself a goof and acts exactly like a goof, is changing the world. Whether it’s meeting a sick child who is a fan of his videos, doing a live stream, going out and meeting his fans and doing skits that include them, answering questions at conventions, or just making people like me be able to smile from the comfort of my home and give me the strength to fight impulses that would be damaging. He preaches over and over again that to him we’re the heroes, hell he put it on the sleeves on his charity shirts, he’s too humble to admit that he is the hero or that he’s made his friends: Bob, Wade, Jack, Ethan, Tyler, etc. heroes as well for pushing for the goals with him and all coming up together with new and amazing ways to both entertain and improve the day to day life of everyone who will watch and listen.” 

I sat here for a few minutes minutes, got my screen cap cut down to size, made sure it wasn’t too illegible. As I began to type my post, my Skype rang, it was my same fiend from before. I imagine the time lapse between end of call to now beginning of new call was maybe a total of two hours give or take.

I answer and all I hear are tears. I am instantly in [who do I need to kill] mode. After they calm down they explain they just searched for emotional play through’s. My mind immediately goes to ‘Presentable Liberty’, ‘That Dragon Cancer’, ‘Anxiety Attack’, among many others I could think of that could be labeled emotional. 

After an awkward silence they asked, “What possessed this man, who has known such great tragedy and loss in his life to do everything he does for others.” I smiled, we were on video chat so they saw and then looked at me with confusion. “The answer to that one is easy, I think he’d agree. He’s seen difficulty, just like all of us, and THAT is why he continues to do it. He strives to make the burdens of this world less heavy on our shoulders, he raises money so that the sick can be mended and go home and play with their friends, he makes personal vlogs looking into each and every one of his fan’s eyes, tears brimming with whatever emotion he’s conveying so we all know he is there for us, he is proud of us, and he will never stop working to change the world.”

My friend nodded at me then told me they were gonna go rest on it, maybe watch a few more videos before laying down. I just made a terrible joke about FNAF [I will spare you the joke, trust me, it was bad] then the Skype call ended once more. 

Now I’m left here with these thoughts in my head. Earlier I mentioned the PAX East stream, one of the things Mark said before leaving the stage was, “When we’re gone, you’re next.” Now this turned into jokes being made and all that because that’s what Mark and his friends do, they cut up and have a good time. It was the way he said it that stuck with me. Like he’s prepping all of us to take this bright, burning torch when he decides to step away from youtube as a career and that brings him almost to a blubbering mess because of all we’ve shown him we can do so far, I think he believes that whenever that time is. Whether it be a year from now, two years from now, or more; he knows that the community that he never dreamed he would have and be part of will continue to do what we do best, because we learned it from the one and only Markiplier.

Change the world.

I’m speechless after this video. I literally have nothing to say. Jack seemed to say all the words that were going through my head. I would just be quoting a lot of what he said in this video if I tried to share my own thoughts right now.

The one thing I will say is, this inspires me so much, to see Jack make a video, talking about some really serious stuff he normally would never talk about in videos, but this was a special cause, because it was someone who means a great deal to him. People can disagree with what Jack said in this video, or completely agree with it, or have no opinions on the matter, whatever.

Felix’s joke may have been bad, but that doesn’t make him a bad person. We all have accidentally said something that could be taken out of context, but in Felix’s case, this is a lot more serious, just because of how popular he is. But we all make some REALLY bad mistakes sometimes, no one can honestly say they never have, but please show respect towards him. Show some humanity. It really brings me down, seeing how people hear someone say something really bad as a joke, even if that person know they shouldn’t be doing that, but that doesn’t mean the other person has to pretend they don’t know it’s a joke, just because they wanna start some shit, and spread pointless negativity.

I believe Jack when he says Felix is a good person, he has a really good judge of character I think. And from what I’ve seen, I think he’s a great person as well, he has a good heart. He just made one really bad, stupid, mistake…as we all have. I just hope humanity has enough of a heart and soul left to forgive him for that mistake. Anyway, I don’t wanna go on forever, I haven’t been keeping up with what’s going on with the whole thing, but I am aware of the things Jack was talking about in this video, and that’s about it. So please, don’t hate on me too harshly, I was just sharing the thoughts Jack got stirring around in my head.

Property of Dean Winchester

Originally posted by weallneedcastiel


SUMMARY: You and Jensen are best friends, you accompany him to Nashville for the convention and drunken hijinks ensue!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x (bestfriend!)reader

Word Count: 1810

Warnings: Some swearing

A/N: So i have been struggling with writing and what not, and the other day this idea hits me. I am basing it off the information that I saw about NashCon and it just grew to this fic. This would be my first attempt at writing a possible more than friends type fic based on the actual actor. I mean no disrespect to Danneel, we will just consider her happy with someone else for the purpose of this fic. Also a huge shout out to Daddy B aka @bigdaddymongoose, she is my rock and helps me out sooo much with writing!

Tagging: @ellen-reincarnated1967 @demondean-for-kingofhell @winchesterprincessbride @jotink78 @iamdeanfknwinchester @skybinx-blog @16wiishes @s4m-w1nch3st3r5287 @chaoticevilanddowntofuck @pizzarollpatrol @14readwritedraw96 @anokhi07 @mrswhozeewhatsis

tagsheet: @theficlibrarium @manawhaat @growleytria @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @samanddeanwinchester67 @strange-inhumanity-blog @fangirling-instead-of-working @aprofoundbondwithdean @eyes-of-a-disney-princess  @faith-in-dean @for-the-love-of-dean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @curliesallovertheplace @thebunkerismyhome @feelmyroarrrr

@beachy2014 @fandom-book-nerd @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @sunriserose1023 @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @lucifer-in-leather @i-dont-know-how-to-write @everyday-supernatural-af  @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @supernatural-jackles @babypieandwhiskey  @jpadjackles @pinknerdpanda


“C’mon you two, let’s hit another bar!” Jared laughed, drunk off his ass already.

You giggled, watching your best friend trying to walk unaided. His bow legs making the staggering all the more comical. Finally, he made it to your side, he threw an arm around you, almost knocking the two of you to the ground.

“I think Jay here has had enough,” you snickered.

After the tour of the Jack Daniels Distillery and all the free shots, then the dart throwing game with Jason and the guys and more shots imbibed. Next, Creation Ent wanting to celebrate Jay’s birthday during the Saturday Night Special concert with you guessed it more alcohol involved. Let’s just say when Jay sang Tennessee Whiskey, he was almost three sheets to the wind then. If Jared got his way, this would be the third bar you all hit.

Jensen started shaking his head, “No, I-I think we need more bars,” he grinned. “Me likey, more acl-aco-alc-,” he furrowed his eyebrows like he was concentrating, “drinks.”

You laughed, “I think everybody is done for the night. You two have a panel in the morning, remember?” You smacked Jensen’s hand away from your face as he tried to “boop” your nose. “Stop that!”

Jared just gave you “Sam’s puppy eyes”, “Nope, Pada-gigantor, those will not work on me. I am impervious to “Mr. Awesome,” you jerked a thumb at Jensen, “you don’t stand a chance my tall friend.”

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100 Kisses

Summary: You decide to give Bucky 100 kisses for his 100th birthday.

Word Count: 2,845

Warning: cursing

A/N: I’m sure in parts of the world Bucky’s birthday is long over, but it’s still March 10th where I live! Happy Birthday, Bucky Barnes!


9:15 am

Steve Rogers stared at you with wide blue eyes as you attempted to wolf down a bowl of cereal. There were many things out of place in this picture—for one thing, he couldn’t quite fathom how a person could so wildly eat cheerios, your spoon constantly clanging against the sides of the bowl.

For another thing, it was rare that you were up this early on a Friday, even if it was a special occasion. He glanced at the clock opposite him, noting that it was only fifteen past nine in the morning.

The super soldier opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped short at the abrupt sound of your chair scraping its legs against the floor. You shot out of your seat to drop your wares in the sink before floating across the table, depositing yourself in Bucky Barnes’ lap.

Bucky eyed you with a smirk, still chewing his breakfast while you placed your hands around his neck. You stared at him with doe eyes, batting your lashes heavily. “You need somethin’ darlin?” he questioned you, the tips of his lips curving into a smile despite the pointed look he was trying to give.

“Uhhhhh hurry up!” You bounced impatiently on his thigh, squirming around as you started to slip. “I’m only at twenty-seven!”

“Twenty-seven what?” For a quick moment, everything you could have possibly meant flashed into Steve’s mind, some of them not exactly what he wanted to think about over his first meal. With a quirked eyebrow he looked at the close couple, searching their faces for an explanation.

“I’m trying to mmm-” Your voice was cut off when your boyfriend shoved toast into your mouth, the jam smearing across your lips and making it sticky. Smugly, Bucky returned his attention to Steve, who watched on with a bewildered expression.

“She’s attempting to give me one hundred kisses today.” His voice was laced with mirth, a silly smile plastered onto his lips that juxtaposed his usual expression. Steve laughed, understanding your restless behavior.

“Did she give you ninety-nine last year?” Steve asked, very amused by the challenge, but also grateful. While your idea was strange, he found it sweet and affectionate; just the type of love Bucky needed after years of solitude.

“He hid his birthday from me last year, and now he has to pay for it!” you accused, poking your finger into his chest. “Besides, one hundred is a special milestone! Much more so than ninety-nine.”

“Most people don’t make it to ninety-nine,” Bucky pointed out, prodding your cheek with the end of his fork. You could see him fighting the urge to cave into your demands, hiding his grin with a cup of coffee. His eyes seemed to shimmer, much like they did when Steve brought him to the tower for the first time.

It felt like so many years ago that you’d met Bucky, a cautious, broken thing with eyes like glass. You didn’t think you’d ever get to see him so comfortable, so relaxed, so human. It made your heart swell, more so than the kisses ever could.

“Well then, even less people make it to one hundred. I’m glad you’re one of them,” your smile softened as you placed a kiss to his temple, his eyes closing in reverence. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, placing his head against yours.

“I’m glad you’re here with me. You too, punk,” the brunette’s eyes picked up to Steve’s, narrowing playfully. “I see you over there.”

With a grin, Steve held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Who me? I’m not doing a thing. Just watching my best friend be totally disgusting with his girlfriend.” He was shaking now, wiping a tear away from his eye as his laughter continued.

“I guess there’s some things one hundred years can’t change”


1:34 pm

“Fifty three…fifty four…fifty five…fifty six,” You were on a roll, having placing your lips back and forth against Bucky’s for a few solid minutes. You were getting fast, knowing that at some point he would grow impatient of sitting on the couch for such small pecks.

He hadn’t complained yet, a satisfied smile growing even wider as the other occupants of the room stared in horror while you repeatedly kissed Bucky, counting in between. Sam mimicked retching, his acting turning into an actual couching fit.

“Jesus Y/N, aren’t you tired? And I don’t just mean from having to look at Barnes in the first place.” His voice made you stop, turning to face the man with a weak glare. Wariness showed on your face, emphasized by your off-guard expression and swollen lips.

“Could you please be nice to him for like, one day out of the year? Actually two; Christmas is a good time to lay off him too.”

“Could you two maybe get a room? We’re trying to watch quality entertainment, not whatever gross thing you guys are doing,” Clint groaned, eyes still glued to the television. Tony and Sam agreed with a round of complaints, the entire room beginning to get rowdy.

“Why are we even watching this? It’s March Madness, turn on ESPN!”

“Um, the Joffrey Ballet is performing Romeo and Juliet and I’m missing it.”

“Would you guys mind if we put on Star Trek?”

“Fuck Next Generation, Brucey. Someone hand me the remote or put on How I Met Your Mother.”

All of a sudden the T.V went blank, the remote clanging to floor as you dropped it with your powers. The room was suddenly silent, no one daring to make a move as your eyes returned to normal.

“I was here first, and I say you’re all watching T.V. in another room,” Your voice became dangerously low, scarring the others to scamper out of their seats without any complaints. There were small apologies being thrown at you, mostly muttered from Clint and Tony. (“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t use your powers!”)

You smiled until a pair of lips were pressed firmly to yours, a much longer, heated kiss that stole your breath and your thoughts. Bucky had grabbed your waist, pulling you to straddle his lap once again.

“Sixty,” he reminded you, voice low as though he was sharing a secret. You blinked, forgetting what the numbers were for in the first place. He had that effect on you.

He smiled, a little embarrassed, but hugged you closer all the same. “I wanted to give you one. That was pretty hot.”  


6:28 pm

“What number are you guys on now?”

Natasha lazily swirled her spoon in her tea, head propped on her fist as she sent a smirk towards you and Bucky. By some miracle you weren’t completely smothering him, the two of you eating like normal people at the dinner table.

“Eighty-six. I’ve been spreading them out, he likes it better that way.” You beamed at him, unaware of his blushing state. Nat, however, noticed this right away, wiggling her brows to gain his attention.

“I’m sure that’s not the only thing he likes spread out,” she winked, and immediately after Bucky placed his head in his hands. A chorus of feminine cackles erupted, making his face even hotter.

“Bucky, please,” you wheezed out, holding a hand to your stomach. You gave his back a little rub, coaxing him out of his flushed state. “What are you acting all shy about, baby?” you teased him, the two of you calling him “ladies man” and “lover boy”, harping back to the stories Steve used to tell about him.

Bucky slowly lifted his head, hands still covering his face. “You know, I thought today was going to be more embarrassing for you than for me. How could I be so wrong?”

You rolled your eyes as his antics, prying his hands away. “C’mon Buckaroo,” you joked, trying to use as many dumb nickname as you could to calm him down. “We’re only teasing.”

“Relentlessly,” he added, and you scoffed, placing your hands on your hips.

“You’re one to talk about relentless! Do you want a list of all the times you’ve taunted me! You did that to me this morning!” Bucky peeked at you through his fingers, catching the frown etched on your face. “It’s only fair!”

“Sorry, don’t recall,” he muttered, getting up from his seat and walking away from you. You sputtered, standing quickly and bumping your thighs against the table.

“Hey!” he was starting to run now, even with very limited space. His back was retreating faster down the elevator corridor, and you picked up speed, getting a running start off the ground before you flew towards him.

“I can fly faster than you can run, Barnes!” you called after him, eyes glowing as you shot forward. Bucky suddenly turned, arms wide open, ready to catch you with a solid stance. You tried to slow down, but you were hurdling toward him like a comet. The force of your collision sent him skidding backwards, his feet tripping over themselves to regain a sense of balance.

You ended up twirling like a top, his arms wrapped around you as you spun into the elevator. Your giggles turned into a hiccups, only to be silenced by a kiss. A deep and slow one, melding your mouths together and ultimately grounding you. Any dizziness that persisted afterwards was not from being spun, but rather from the kiss that had you seeing stars.

“Eighty-seven,” you counted proudly, without a single hiccup.


10:04 pm

Ten o’ clock wasn’t late by any means, but it had been a long day.

There had been something of a party in the common room since seven; a small gathering that consisted of the Avengers, and a few other agents Bucky knew well. Tony had promised it wouldn’t be anything he wasn’t comfortable with, and that if he wanted the celebration over, he could have it.

Tony kept his word. Even though Bucky had been having fun, he realized that while he was busy catching up with Thor and Scott Lang, Y/N had hardly been by his side. Perhaps it was the suddenness of it all, but he felt immensely detached, gazing at her from across the room with longing looks.

You were quite adept at deciphering Bucky’s looks, even from far away. He’d given you this long stare, his baby blue hues so cloudy and dull, reason enough to saunter over to him and press a quick kiss to his lips.

“You okay?” you asked him, concerned that he wasn’t having fun. He didn’t seem to suggest the idea, but you could tell that something was bothering him. The first two times you did it, he shook his head and granted you a small smile.

The third time was different. By the third kiss you felt his restless energy, his hands cupping both your cheeks, seeking some sort of outlet. You held his hands, looking straight into his eyes.

“Bucky,” you paused, making sure he was hearing you. “Bucky are you alright?”

He was beginning to nod, his hair falling into his eyes as he bowed his head, but his chin never came back up. “I’m fine, I just,” he sounded strained, his voice thick with some emotion you couldn’t quite place. “How many left?”

“Ten,” you told him, rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his hands. “Just ten more.”

He licked his lips, grabbing onto your wrist loosely and pulling you away. “I want to go.” He was using short sentences, his speech rushed and shoulders tense.  Today had been long, and social events tended to tire him out quicker than anything else.

“Okay baby, you stay right there, I’ll tell Tony.” You gave him a smile that was forced, the façade vanishing when you turned away from it. You nearly jogged to reach Tony, explaining the situation as best you could, despite not understanding it yourself.

He was good about it. Tony didn’t make a scene, he just waved graciously with a small smile. Bucky returned it, and suddenly the whole room was raising a glass in his leave.

“Happy Birthday, Buck! Hope you had fun.” Steve’s strong voice was wistful, but his smile was not at all sad. Bucky gave a salute, relief seeping back into him as you two looped arms, turning your backs to the avengers.

“You sure you’re okay?” It was simply precautionary, your worry fading when he gave a genuine smile.

“I’m fine, doll face. Just wanted to cash in those last ten kisses in private.”


 11:15 pm

He was smooth, in almost everything he did. It was scary, sometimes, how he could surprise you like that. Bucky appeared so sharp, so bent and twisted sometimes that you were always taken aback by how careful and soft he treated you.

His hands slowly went up your side, bunching the soft cotton of your pajamas impatiently. When he detached himself, his burning blue eyes looked straight at you, lips parted but unmoving, the question unspoken between you two.

“Ninety-eight,” you replied, breathing heavily against his lips, your foreheads touching. He’d been playing this game since he’d gotten you alone, taking charge of the gift you were supposed to give him. He rolled his hips under yours, nails digging into your sides almost painfully as he angled his mouth down for another go.

Suddenly his pursed lips met the pads of your fingers. He blinked, watching as you sat back on your knees, taking his wrists into your hands.

“This is my gift. You can’t take control of it, that makes it yours.” You felt like you were pouting, crossing your arms to convey your annoyance, even it if was acute.

Bucky laughed until he realized you were serious. “What? Darling, come on,” he persuaded, lifting up your chin. “It is for me.”

“Yeah, but it’s, I’m,” you struggled to form your thought into a coherent statement, one that would make sense. “I’m giving you one hundred kisses, in my time. You can’t cash them all in like a rain check.”

That seemed to do the trick, your boyfriend leaning back on his elbows, looking at you with raised brows. “Well when you put it like that,” he drawled, and you used your strength to push him down onto his back.

“When I put it like that,” you mocked him, landing on your side next to him. You grazed your finger across his jaw, tracing the outline down his neck and collarbone. His skin was hot to the touch, but shivers wracked his spine when your nails scratched under his chin. He was eager, hands twitching to touch you. You laughed at his restraint, cupping your hands to his cheeks and giving him a soft, tender kiss that lasted but a minute.

You didn’t need to say it out loud; you both understand that this was the last of them, the final kiss to mark his birthday. He smiled as he shifted to mirror your body, arms snaking around your neck. He wanted so desperately to say something, but before he could even think about it, your lips placed a small peck to his.

“One hundred! Happy Birthday, Bucky!” you grinned sneakily, and he grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. You laughed at his expression, the fleeting anger that bubbling under his shock.

“What? That so does not count!” he yelled, feeling cheated. He pulled your wrists to bring your closer, so close that your chests touched and your eyes were solely focused on each other. You still stifled some giggles back, and Bucky finally sighed, resigned to the fact that, no matter how devious it was, you’d kept your promise.

“You’re forgetting something,” your chirpy voice reminded him, and he grumbled a quick response before you placed your hands on his chest. You captured his attention a mere moment before you captured his lips, this time in a kiss that mattered.

It started slow and hesitant, as though you were testing unsteady waters. Soon it became deeper, those hovering hands now fully immersed in his hair, tugging at the roots with just enough pull to spur him on further.

Bucky placed his hands on your hips, slowly sitting himself up, never breaking contact. He placed you back down onto the bed, his weight pressing against yours. Your resolve broke, that earlier statement off the table as Bucky guided you onto your back, trapping you between his arms. Your head pressed into the mattress, your body sinking as your breath was stolen from you, Bucky’s chest flush against you.

When the need for air became too hard to ignore, Bucky pulled back, a questioning glance on his face. “Pretty sure I’m not one hundred and one,” he inquired, and you smiled.

“One for good luck.” Your answer made him break out into a grin, one so contagious you nearly forgot about everything else. He slowly leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, a good and quick thing that conveyed everything it needed to.

“I don’t need luck when I’ve got you.”

ratpile  asked:

Dear Dr Ferox, In a lecture today I was told that a good vet, and one less likely to grow disillusioned by their job, is one who knows when they've done all they can, and who realises that a vet can only advise; it's clients that make decisions. I get this, but struggle to agree with it. My duty of care is to the animal, and advising an owner on the best thing to do does not equal *actually* doing something to improve an animal's life. Do you have any advice for detaching in this way? Thank you.

First let me preface by saying that it’s fine to feel whatever you feel about situations animals may find themselves in. Trying to suppress your feelings wont do you any good psychologically, but I understand what your lecturer means.

There are points, and there are many of them in veterinary medicine, where choices need to be made. Sometimes there is a choice that is obviously better than the others. Sometimes there is not.

A veterinarian has to present these options to the owner of the animal. A veterinarian does not get to choose.

Most human being want to be decent. If you give them all the options, they want to choose one of the better ones. Many are limited in one way or another though, either financially, physically or practically. Very few set out to be deliberately assholes.

Sometimes those humans, for whatever reason, will not allow you to do everything that’s in the best interest of the animal. If you are aware of their limitations then often  you can find a decent compromise, but sometimes you cannot.

There is a physical limit to what you, yourself, can do. You can’t go driving round to someone’s house unannounced because they didn’t bring their pet in for a follow up and stopped answering your calls. You can’t kidnap an animal to treat it. You can’t ‘pretend’ to put an animal to sleep and hide it from its owners.

You can, however, report them to the relevant authorities who do have those legal powers.

It’s not that you can’t do something to help that animal, it’s that you have been prevented from helping that animal. That karmic load belongs to the owners, not to you. Especially if you have provided them multiple options for getting treatment.

It’s sort of like in shelter medicine. Veterinarians put down lots of dogs and cats in shelters, many of which are perfectly nice, but have just run out of time. A member of the general public might cry about how could they possibly do that if they love animals. Why don’t they do X or Y instead, or adopt the animal themselves? Never mind the fact that the vet’s household is probably already full, or it soon would be, or the sheer number of animals they’re recommending be ‘rescued’ this way, or that it’s one tiny step away from an animal hoarding situation.

People who understand the industry don’t blame the vets putting these animals to sleep. Euthanasia may not be the very best of all the possible outcomes those animals could have had, but it’s the best choice left out of their options at that time.

The blame is shifted instead to the people who put those animals into those positions in the first place; puppy farms, backyard breeders, thoughtless owners, etc.

There is a difference between all that could have been done and what you as one, single human can do now.

It’s not a bad thing to want to be responsible for the whole world, but it’s easy to burn out that way. You need to know when you’ve done all you can, and when to call somebody else. That other person may be a fellow vet, or a specialist, or an animal welfare inspector. There are just some things that are beyond our control.

And whatever happens you have to be able to get up the next morning and tackle the next problem.

Can everyone leave David Duchovny alone with things he said and done in the 90s? He acknowledged them, he talked about them, and he learnt from them. Now, he is a fucking amazing, kind and humble guy who is out there doing his best. Maybe you could learn some kindness and acceptance from him.

If you don’t agree with the above, please block me, unfollow me do whatever you need to do. David Duchovny is pure and cute and I’m here to say this out loud.

Peace and be kind to one another. 

anonymous asked:

Making a character trans instead of "switching" their gender results in a different story. If I make canon cis dude John Doe (random char name) a girl, that's different from making him a trans guy. If you mean I should instead make him a trans girl or nb, then uh... that's still genderswapping, literally it is SWAPPING his GENDER. So according to you I shouldn't do it?

I’m pretty sure you understood what I meant…I’m not someone who can tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. You do you, whatever your choice is. I said what mine was, and I’m not going to force it on you.

It’s such a topic there is not going to be one real right answer for everyone. Some people find it bad, some don’t. Personally I’d just rather not upset anyone, I don’t lose much by not drawing it really. 

I feel like the anon just wanted to make more people at least know what they felt, and I think it’s their right to. Whether people agree with it or not - is not really my business or something for me to judge, because I don’t fully understand and relate to a problem.

anonymous asked:

"blow me, evans." "okay." "wait, what?"

drunk prompts you’re welcome The cup is still circling the room, every Gryffindor kissing the cup or adding a bit of whatever booze they’re drinking to it five hours after they all trooped back to the common room. Mcgonagall had come up once but she’d been shouted down and agreed that as long as all the younger years were in bed before one the party could go on for a bit longer.

Lily is sat by the fire, sweaty and definitely on hete way towards drunk. Shot glasses keep appearing and she can’t tell if the muggle borns smuggled them in or one of the sixth years is exploiting their transfiguration skills. Either way, she’s not complaining.

“Evans!” Potter appears, escaping from the throng of adoring fourth year girls who all want a dance with the quidditch cup winning captain. He looks happy.

“Alright?” She asks, making room for him on the armchair. There’s an empty sofa next to her but he squeezes into the gap anyway. He’s very close. She’s a bit distracted by that.

“Thought that was my line?”

“You can’t trademark a word.” She tells him, finishing the bottle of fire whiskey in her hand. He raises an eyebrow.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Yes.” She snatches the drink he’s carrying from him, definitely not because it means she has to lean across him to get it.

“Smooth.” He comments as half of it tips down her shirt. Accidentally.

He is blushing and she likes that and she likes him and it’s been far too long since it was just them talking. There’s always other people around. Even their heads office has been clogged up with the others escaping the library. Newts are in a month and every seventh year is spending every second they can working in the library. The heads office has become a refuge from that but for Lily and James it has become another place to escape. It’s never just them. Lily misses that.

“Hey, Evans.” He awkwardly places his arm around her shoulder. “I’m drunk. I think. Maybe tipsy. I don’t know. Can I ask you something?”

She snuggles into his side. “Mhmmm.”

“Will you blow me?”

“Okay.”

“Wait, what?” He almost snaps his neck it whips around so fast to look at her. Lily isn’t sure if he looked happier when the cup was handed to him.

“I said okay. But not right now, I’m sleepy. Tomorrow, after our date.” She wraps her arm around him and rests her head on his chest.

“Date?”

“Shh, I’m sleeping.” She closes her eyes and misses the smile that spreads across his face, bigger than when he scored the winning goal. (Not as big as when she takes his hand the next day on their date.)

In the Rough

Part 1, Part 2 (you are here), part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, based on @skygemspeaks ‘s prompt


Previously: Yuuri is the prince of the country of Yutopia. His older sister, Crown Princess Mari Katsuki, is readying to ascend to the throne. Due to the stress, she has allowed her relationship with her brother to deteriorate, causing him to leave for the sake of putting less stress on her. While trekking to the neighboring country, Yuuri comes across a carriage, which is soon attacked by bandits. As reward for helping to incapacitate said bandits, neighboring Crown Prince Victor Nikiforov offers him a job as his personal bodyguard, complete, of course with the food and shelter guaranteed of a servant. Yuuri has eight months before he has to go home. Besides, he’s too awkward to refuse.

Not for the first time, Yuuri wonders how he got here. Granted, he already knows exactly how, but that doesn’t stop him from wondering when Victor drags him from the carriage the instant they reach the palace.

“Let’s go, Yuuri! The guards will let Father know that we’re back and we can talk to him after we bathe, since no one is fit to be seen after travelling.” Victor’s grip on his arm is like iron.

Yuuri looks desperately at their companions, all of whom seem to be conveniently busy with their fingernails. “Your Highness, I don’t think–”

“Call me Victor,” Victor says, turning a grin in Yuuri’s direction even as they’re moving. “You don’t need to be so formal with me. After all, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, Yuuri!”

“Your Highness,” Yuuri says again, refusing to be put off by Victor’s odd behavior, “I don’t think it’s proper for us to bathe together. You are the crown prince, and I am a servant.”

At least, as far as Victor knows. Still, it wouldn’t be appropriate whether Yuuri was there as a prince or as a servant.

Keep reading

@citrusmaps

Ooooooo, mama! I love me some dragons! Imma stick with the traditional Japanese ones, because those are canonical to the universe. ( ´ ▽ ` )ノ

(Please excuse the silly names the Shimada dragons were given. I don’t know any Japanese (RIP).)

———–

HANZO:
“The air is shifting.”

Hanzo opened his eyes slowly, his meditation could wait.

“What do you mean, Sui Riu.” He spoke calmly as the beast met his eyes.

“The winds have changed. Listen.” It circled him slowly, moving as if constantly suspended in water.

“Yes, I hear it too.” The darker of the two dragons agreed. The man shifted in his seat, straining his ears to hear whatever change they were referring to.

“Hmm. What do you propose we do, Aoi?” Asked Sui Riu, beginning to unravel itself from Hanzo and around its companion.

Hanzo crosses his arms, still concentrating on the breeze, and lets then have their conversation separately. Something did seem slightly off, he just couldn’t put his finger on it, and after a minute longer of observation, he deduces that the change must be spiritual; something he was much less in-tune with than his dragons.

“Master,” Aoi began, “we think it best to go now.” Hanzo pauses, realizing that he had not been listening to them at all. Any decision they had made had completely flown over his head.

He pauses awkwardly, thinking of how to respond properly. “Yes. That is fine.” He stands, dusting off his knees a bit. “Lead the way.”

___________

It was so nice to finally get some sun!

You stretch, before curling around yourself and resting your head on your tail. Overwatch truly was a blessing: taking someone like you in with a promise to keep you safe, happy and healthy.

You smile and lull your head side to side. “No more crowed forests for me!” Your eyes close, and you sigh, letting yourself relax for once.

That is until distant mumbling made it’s way to your ears.

There was a man, followed by……two other dragons!!? You’re eyes grow wide as you study them. Geez, they’re absolutely beautiful (and kinda tiny in comparison to you). You’re eyes wonder back to the man, who was speaking.

“I..I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

“I apologize.” He bows politely. “My name is Shimada Hanzo.”

You nod your head in response. You pause, contemplating your next move. Deciding it’s best to level with this guy, you allow yourself to swiftly change back into a human.

You reach out a hand, introducing yourself, but he takes a moment to comprehend what had happened. His face pales a fraction and he refuses to meet your eyes; making you wonder if there was a problem with your appearance.

You glance down at your chest, making sure that you remembered to actually cloth yourself this time (and to your relief you had). His cough brings your attention back to him.

“Oh, uh.” You rub your hands together. “May I ask who you two are as well?” You start, praying that that didn’t come out too awkward.

“I am Aoi,” one begins, weaving itself out from behind Hanzo, “and this is Sui Riu.”

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” You offer a smile, and watch as they approach, inspecting you.

“I was not aware you could see them.” Hanzo started, voice even. “Most cannot.”

“I assume by that you mean most humans.” You shove your hand into your pocket and use the other to gesture yourself. “As of right now I’m only physically human.”

He nods, feeling as though he might of offended you in some way.

“Well, you seem to be a very appealing human.” Sui Riu said, circling your form.

“And dragon as well.” Aoi added, joining Sui Riu.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” You blush.

“Perhaps you would like to join us later to converse?” The former asked. To which you eagerly agreed, letting them set a time and place to meet.


GENJI:
He didn’t really think of himself as the best welcoming committee. However, it just so happened that the newbie asked to be greeted by him specifically. Nothing about your name rang any bells, and he couldn’t possibly think of many people who would want to be guided by him.

The first thing he heard when the ship had opened it’s doors was a loud gasp. His eyes followed the sound to a slowly approaching figure, eyes wide and mouth covered.

“It-it’s true!” You exclaim, glancing at him, then to his side, then back to him. “The man who is guided by dragon!”

You reach to his side, and he sees a green head meet your hand.

“So you can see Tatsu as well?” He watches you gently stroke it, placing his hand on it’s back to pet it as well.

“Yeah, I never thought I’d really get to see another one!” You grin at him, then pull your eyes back to Tatsu (who was loving all the attention).

“Ah, so you have seen another.”

“Well, I guess you could say that.” Letting out an awkward chuckle, you raise your hand off of it and cross your arms. “You didn’t get the memo, huh?”

“I suppose not.” His dragon begins to slowly drift back to him, not wanting the petting to stop. Genji makes a motion like he’s beginning to speak, but you swiftly cut him off.

“Umm, so, Tatsu. Can you speak too?” You unfold your arms and wave them frantically, “No! Wait! That was super rude! I’m sorry!”

“No, it is fine.” Genji chuckles gently. He runs his hand down it’s back. “They are mute.” He motions at you. “The other one could speak?”

“Uh, well, yes.” You clear your throat. “You see….. I’m…… the other one.” You shift your weight, gazing at your feet.

“I see!” Genji inspects you, with what could only be described as subdued glee. “May I ask how?”

“Well, yeah.” You pause and steady your nerves. “I can sorta turn in to one. Sometimes. I’m not very good at it yet.”

He clasps his hands together, not hiding his excitement well. “Can I see?”

You nod, tell him to stand back, and shut your eyes tightly. The tingling in your arms growing strong before your muscles begin to shift. Letting your eyes open, you see that your arms were the only things you could will to change, and you scrunch your face in frustration.

“Incredible!” Genji cheers from intront of you. He steps closer and hovers his hands over your arms. “May I?”

“Uhh, sure.” He gently takes them, turning and poking them to ease his curiosity. The other dragon watches over the both of you, contently; then decides that the two of you needed to be circled.

“Haha! Looks like Tatsu likes you!” He boasts, removing his hands from you, and onto the serpent-like creature.

You chuckle and look down at your arms. “I gotta say, meeting you two has made me feel so much better.” You look up into his visor. “I should probably change them back now.”

He hums in agreement, picks up Tatsu by its midsection, and allows you some space.

You focus your energy into your arms, letting the shifting sensation sweep over you. Once it settled you peer down and notice a problem with your hands. Claws.

“Wait. I, hmmm, give me a second.”

“Yo, Genji! I was wonderin’ if…..” A voice echoed in from behind him. It sounded familiar, for some reason.

Oh, god. That was that famous D.J. wasn’t it?

He coughs, awkwardly. “I was wonderin’ if I could borrow you for a sec?”

“Yes, I will be with you soon.” He bows to you in apology. “I will be back as quickly as I can.”

He jogs off, leaving you, claws and all, equally relieved and embarrassed.


REAPER:
He was never a fan of going down to the prisoner holding; or as Sombra liked to call it, “the Dungeon.” But, alas, there was a certain someone with needed information, who also happened to be a prisoner.

When all was said and done, it was easy to make them talk, and he was out of their room at in no time at all. An outcome that pleased him slightly.

His feet echo heavily as he makes his way down the long hallway out, letting him relish in the quiet.

“Hello?” He stops. Was someone talking to him? “Hey, uh, any chance I could get some water?”

“Not my job. Wait till diner.”

“C'mon, please? It’s been hours.”

“Again, not my job.” He begins to move again, but is stopped by the sound of intense scraping. He thought all prisoners were suppose to be stripped of all of their belongings; how did this one manage to sneak in something sharp? “You have a knife? They’re gonna have a field day with you when they find out, grunt.”

“I-I don’t have a knife!”

“Sure sounds like you do.” He states, voice taunting. The scraping continues, urgently, than becomes more muffled, and he decides if he should see for himself if they had something they shouldn’t, or to just leave.

Curiosity gets the best of him as he unlocks the door leading to your cell. The room is dim, as most are, but overwhelmingly dry. The shadows shift against the wall, and he knows better than to think that it was just his imagination.

“Come out.” He nearly demands, watching you nervously scuttle forth, almost twice his size. “What the hell?”

“Hey! It gets hard to control when I’m really hungry or thirsty….” You trail off, feeling small compared to the intimidating man before you.

He crosses his arms and stares at you a moment longer. “I’m guessing by that you mean, changing?”

“Mmhmm. But, I thought you guy knew that already.” You turn your head away from him bitterly. “I would’ve thought you knew everything about me by now.”

“Well, apparently, Talon isn’t to found of the idea of spreading the fact that they have a dragon in their dungeon.”

Your eyes sweep back to him. “You mean you didn’t know? You look kinda important.”

“Honestly, won’t have cared enough to remember if I was told.”

“That’s a bit rude.”

“I’m a member of a terrorist organization. We don’t tend to considerate.”

“Touché.” You curl yourself on to your bed and sigh. “If you’re not gonna get me some water, you can leave. I’m sure you have other, more important things to do.”

“I do. But they aren’t nearly as interesting.” He leans against the wall. “I’m curious, how exactly were they able to catch a dragon.”

“Why would you care?” You put dryly, no longer facing him.

“Humor me.”

You shift in your bed, trying to find the right words. “They didn’t FIND a dragon.” You exhale loudly through your nose in discontent. “They made one.”

You both sit in silence as he takes in your words. He pushes himself off the wall and leaves, not saying a another word.

______________

“Wow, even your wallet is edgy.” Sombra snorts, eyeballing the black leather wallet, with a metal skull emblem and chain.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” He growls and she raises her hands in mock defense.

“Why are you buying that many water bottles anyway?”

“That’s none of your business, Sombra.” He pulls the last of the five he bought into his arms, and turns to leave.

“Aww, I was hoping to watch you chug those all at once!”

“Too bad.”