Plot: You’re roommates with Bobby, Kian, Harrison, Jc and Corey. You get along with everybody, but for some reason Kian is the one, who messes with you the most. When you’re both filming a video together…
A/N: I really wanted to write a Kian imagine and idk why, but I’ll start writing requests soon, really soon. I just have work and I get home so late, I’m always so tired and then I have to write, because of that I’m not getting enough sleep. Which means I’m even more tired the next. Conclusion: I’ll start writing requests soon haha. Enjoy xoxo !
/Gif isn’t mine, but fits perfectly to this imagine so credits and love to it’s owner/
So I’ve been living with boys for a couple of months now and it’s been great. At first they were acting a litlle weird, but it only lasted for a few days. I mean I’ve known them before and we’ve hung out. We were friends, but not close and when I told them I needed a place to stay they said that they were moving into a new house and maybe I’d want to join them.
I agreed, I mean it’s a beautiful house and they’re my buddies. So here I am.
“Y/n! get down here!” I hear Jc screaming, I take my phone and go downstairs. “Can you make a video with me?” Kian asked me. I smiled and nodded “Yeah, of course. What’s it about?” I asked him and he giggled.
“I need you to tell me two basic girl lies and then one truth, I’ll try and guess them.” he said and I laughed. “Well okay, let me change my shirt I’ll be ready.” I said and went back to my room. I thought I’d only change my shirt, but turned out changed my whole outfit.
“You’re ready?” he shouts from downstairs. “Yeah, I’m coming!” I said and ran down the stairs. “Well, shit.” Jc says and starts laughing. “Okay, what? I got little carried away.” I said annoyed. Jc throws his hands up in the air and walks away. “Where are we filming?” I asked him and he pointed towards his room.
“Let’s go up, I sat my camera ready there.” he said and ran up. I laughed and ran behind him. He giggled “What are you laughing about?” “I put on heels not relising that my feet will not be in frame.” and he laughed too.
I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Twenty-Seven
Summary: You look more into the possibility of getting a dog, and your surprise baby shower brings more than one surprise. Words: 3k Jared x Reader x Gen, Jensen, Tom, Shep, assorted friends and family Warnings: none Beta: @blacksiren
Hi! Uhm, I don't know if you can help me, but do you know a cleansing and or protection spell against ghosts? A cemetary is right down the street from my house and I've already had 2 ghostly visitors on Halloween the last couple of years from there (forgot to close the window that night NEVER AGAIN). If not, would it be possible to direct me to someone who would know sth like this? I hope, I'm not too forward w/ this request. Thank you so much and have a lovely day!
Not too forward at all! My parents house is actually between a cemetery and a fairy mound, so we were always finding bits or charms people made to keep both at bay. It was an interesting childhood in the garden in that regard. One time dad dug one of them up and discarded it. The streak of bad luck that ensued led to my mother going to the Totally Not Witches in our church to get another one.
One of the main charms I am aware of for keeping unwanted visitors out of your house is to plant iron around the entryways. Everyone thinks this is always just for fae, but iron is just one of those good, solid, dependable metals for when it comes to protecting the home. My parents have iron horseshoes above the doors. Some people like to have them facing down the way (like a U) because they believe it keeps luck inside your house, other people flip them like an upside down U so that anyone with bad or unwelcome intentions, will feel turned away and be in theory unable to cross the threshold.
You can also take iron sheers and plant them in your yard, blades open and facing outward so that anyone unwelcome will cut their soul if they try to break in or enter where they are not welcome. You don’t necessarily need to do anything too magical too them either to do this. It’s the will of your intent as you bury them that does most of the work, but it doesn’t hurt to remind them every day when you walk over/past them that they are there to Protect you, and focus a little of your will toward that notion.
You can also create a protection charm like that out of pretty much anything, iron is just traditional and preferable to some people. I didn’t have any iron when someone tried to break into mine and Etd’s home (except the iron curtain rail I threatened the guy with, happy coincidence) so I actually took my favorite quartz crystals, told them they were going to look after my house now and buried them near the thresholds. Ocassioanly I will rework the charm whenever I am cleaning house, focusing on where I know them to be in the yard, and willing them to be filled with light and the general vibe of “if you’re here without my invitation fuck the fuck right off”. It works well for me. You could also use lemons or something else that is biodegradable, but then you need to redo the spell in full fairly often, which some people like cause it helps them feel protected, and some people don’t.
I also keep crystals by all the windows which I work with similarly, with the extra notion that I don’t want people looking in and they should feel uncomfortable if they try. This would also work easily for ghosts too. My preference is clear quartz or amethyst.
I will also once a year, usually on Hogmanay, go around all thresholds and windows with salt, imagining an invisible ward around everything that seals the house from malice or unwanted guests, living or otherwise. I’ll usually do each window individually. Then when I’m done I open them up and brush the salt outwards towards the outside world, as a symbolic gesture of brushing the evil/bad energies out of the home. It’s something my mother always did, which she got from her mother, and it stuck with me. Those are my basic house wards.
If you feel like your ghost buddies have decided they want to stay and are disregarding the wards, you may need to have a chat with them regarding boundaries. And by chat I mean reminding them this is your house and to kindly gtfo. You can do this with your average cleansing house spell, a million and one of which you can find in Google. But my personal fave is to bang my iron pots and pans together walking through the house saying firmly “this is my space, you’re not welcome here, leave please”. If I’m feeling particularly special I’ll light some incense, but if you couldn’t tell I’m a very “fuck off I’ve not got time for this bullshit” witch.
Also if it’s just specific to Halloween? Keep candles lit by the windows, or if you can, throw the traditional jack-o-lantern outside with a candle inside, give them something else to focus on, a bit like moths to a flame. But be sure to have your wards in place, you want them to focus on the light, not your actual home. Good luck.
9. One more step, I dare you. 33. Can you give me a hug? Just once?
This might not be exactly what you were looking for… but it’s what popped into my mind with these prompts. Something a little different than what I normally gravitate towards!
At first, he thinks it’s the thunderstorm that’s woken him up, which would be a reasonable assumption- it’s one of the worst he’s ever seen. DC’s spring storms have nothing on Florida’s. But as he lies totally still in his hotel room, in between the crashes of thunder, he becomes aware of another sound through the hotel wall, coming from the room next door. A series of high, keening sobs, reaching a shrieking crescendo as a sustained flash of lightning whites out his vision, and that’s all it takes for him to rocket out of his bed. He grabs his glasses from the nightstand and his gun from his holster… and after a half-second’s thought, he yanks on the sweatpants he’d earlier discarded at the foot of the bed.
The connecting door is unlocked, which both surprises him (she’s a federal agent and that’s an awful lot of trust she’s displaying in him) and relieves him (at least the hotel’s not going to have to bill the FBI because of damage to property). The lights on the other side are off, the bed is empty, and in the next flash of lightning, he sees her. She’s crouched in the far corner of the room, half-hidden behind a chair- and her gun is pointed directly at him.
“One more step, I dare you,” she says, in a voice that shakes just as violently as the hand clutching her weapon. Very slowly, he reaches out and places his own gun on the nightstand to his left and raises his hands so that she can see that they’re empty.
“Agent Scully,” he says, in a slow, calm voice, “I’m not going to hurt you.” He can see from here that there’s no recognition in her face, only panic, and he knows, instantly, what’s going on. "It’s Walter Skinner,“ he says. "You’re in a hotel room in Orlando, Florida. We’re attending a conference. There’s a thunderstorm outside, but you are not in any danger.” She lowers her gun slightly. Encouraged, he takes a cautious step towards her.
“That’s not right,” she says, her voice wavering. "Where’s Mulder?“ Pure panic overtakes her face again, and she raises the gun. Skinner stops moving. "What have you done with him?”
“Agent Mulder is back in DC,” Skinner says. "He’s home sick with the flu.“ Scully closes her eyes and takes a deep, ragged breath. "Scully,” says Skinner, lowering his voice, “everything is all right. You’re safe. There’s nobody in this room except you and me, and I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.” He takes another step. "I promise. You are safe.“ Her head lowers with a heartbreaking sob, and the arm holding the gun falls to her side. Intuiting that the danger has passed, Skinner goes to her- still moving slowly- and helps her to her feet. He leads her to the bed, where she sits, her head in her hands, and he places her gun on the nightstand alongside his own. He turns on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a dim, orange glow. After a moment’s hesitation- he’s not sure what Scully would deem "appropriate”- he sits next to her.
She’s trembling so hard that the bed is shaking. He doesn’t need her to tell him what’s happened, but he knows from experience that what helps or doesn’t help is different from one person to the next, so he does need her to tell him what to do.
“Dana,” he says gently, “how can I help?” She shakes her head violently. "Come on,“ he cajoles her. "It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I just want to make it better for you, all right?” She peers up at him, and he nods encouragingly.
“Can you… I’m sorry, Sir, I know this is inappropriate-”
“Don’t worry about that,” he reassures her.
“Can you give me a hug?” she asks, looking at the carpet instead of at his face. "Just once?“
"Of course,” he says. He slides closer to her on the bed, still moving slowly to keep from spooking her, and takes her in his arms. She’s stiff at first, still trembling fiercely, but as he holds her she calms, until after what feels like forever to him (but is, in reality, probably more like a minute), she’s no longer shaking. She pushes him away gently, and takes a long, shuddering breath.
“Thanks,” she says softly, still not looking at him.
“Don’t mention it,” he says. "Do you have them often? The flashbacks?“ She jerks her head up to look at them, eyes wide.
"How do you know-”
“That that’s what was going on?” She nods. "I have them, too.“ He laughs mirthlessly. "Me and at least half the Vietnam vets still alive and kicking. They’re not anywhere near as frequent as they used to be, though.”
“Not for me, either,” she admits. "In fact, it’s been months.“ She gestures towards the window, where lightning continues to flash. "It’s the storm causing it. The lightning… it makes me think I’m back….” She waves her hand vaguely. "Wherever I was when I was abducted.“
"I thought Mulder said you didn’t remember any of that,” Skinner says.
“I don’t, not really. But I do know that wherever it was, there were bright, flashing lights.”
“What do you usually do when it happens?” asks Skinner curiously. It’s clear to him, from what’s just transpired, that Scully requires outside help to pull herself out of the waking nightmare. He’s got a pretty good idea of who that someone usually is… and Scully’s blush confirms it. "Mulder?“ She looks away from him. "Come on, Dana, I’m not looking to get you into trouble.” She looks up at him out of the corner of her eye and nods.
“He’s a bad sleeper,” she says. "He come and calms me down when he hears me. It’s why I left the connecting door open tonight. Force of habit.“
"And how about at home? The nights you’re not together?” Her mouth drops open, and suddenly, she looks terrified.
“Sir,” she says, “I know the rumors, I know everyone assumes that we’re… that Agent Mulder and I are… but that’s all they are, is rumors. Stories. More ways for people to discredit us.”
“Dana,” Skinner says gently, “I saw you.” She pales visibly.
“Where?” she whispers. He can understand her fear- they’ve been careful, Skinner knows. They stand a little closer than most at work, it’s true, but it’s been that way since the beginning. They’ve always been in their own, impenetrable little bubble… but there’s never even the suggestion that something more might be going on. He’s walked into their basement office and felt that energy between them, sure, but caught them in a delicate moment? Never. Discretion is a language in which both of them are exceedingly fluent.
“My sister was in town last month,” he says. “She dragged me to the symphony. You and Mulder were sitting maybe ten rows in front of us.” She covers her face with her hands. “I saw him kiss you. And, well… it didn’t look like the first time. But Dana, listen: I don’t care what you and Mulder do in your free time. I don’t care whether the bureau says I’m supposed to care. You and Mulder watch each other’s backs, you get your work done, your solve rate is way better than any of my other agents, and you hand me receipts for two separate hotel rooms every time you take a case out of town. Beyond that, what you do is your own business.” She risks a look at him and finds him smiling.
“At home… if he’s not at my apartment, and I’m not at his… he usually just drives over if a storm blows through,” she admits. “Sometimes he checks the weather forecast.” She grins sheepishly. “Before this year… before we were together… he used to just stretch out on my couch if he got there and I was sleeping through it. I’d wake up and find him out there in the morning.” This year? Skinner tries not to show his surprise. He’s been assuming they were an item for a lot longer than that. “Can I ask… what do you do? When one of these flashbacks hits you?”
“I have a list of phone numbers taped to every phone in my house,” he says. “Old army buddies, mostly. I go down the list until I find someone who’s home, and they talk me through it.” Scully opens her mouth to respond, but she’s interrupted by the trill of her cell phone, lying on the nightstand. Skinner picks it up and hands it to her. He’s sitting close enough that when she answers it, he can hear Mulder’s voice on the other end, asking if she’s all right.
“I was checking the forecasts online,” Skinner hears him say, “and I saw you were getting a storm down there.” Scully grins and looks at Skinner bashfully.
“Mulder, you’re supposed to be sleeping,” she says. “You’re sick.” Skinner stands- clearly Mulder will be taking it from here.
“Gonna go,” he whispers. “Goodnight.” Scully glances up.
“Mulder, hang on a second,” she says, and lowers the phone. “Sir, that list you mentioned? The numbers you call when it happens to you?”