owner is my sister

Between Beds

Winchester Brothers x Sister!Reader

Brother Drabble

Imagine getting stuck sharing a bed with one of your brothers while renting a hotel room for the night.

Warnings: Literally like on swear word (I think), Irritated reader, some light brotherly fluff or something like that.

Trigger Warning: DON’T READ IF YOU’RE TIRED becuase this is about not getting sleep and I wouldn’t want to make you suffer more and there really isn’t a trigger warning I just wanted to say this.

A/N: I’ve got a buttload of prompts I’m going to be using to write with so be prepared for a fic overload and daily posts.

Forever tag list: @Freaksforthewin , @thewinhunter, @cambriacaneatnoodles, @brokennoone , @youtubehelpsmesurvive , @chrisevansthedoritobastard , @winchesters-favorite-girl , @we-know-a-little-about-a-lot @godh8salyssa @dean-baby-Winchester

Want to be added to one of my tag lists? Just ask!

My Edit

Every hunt. Every. Damn. Hunt. Your knuckle head brother would get a twin sized double room at a motel. In other words: somebody was sharing. Usually, the rooms came with a roll away bed, or had a couch that was magically a pull out bed. Not this one. Becuase God forbid these people payed a little extra money and made it possible for three people who didn’t want to share a bed with anyone, to actually share a room in peace.

Dean set his stuff down on a bed, Sam followed. “Uh- what about me? One of you guys is going to have to share, you do realize that right?” both of them let out a long sigh.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Dean held out his hands. Rock, paper, scissors. He always lost, except that one time. Just as you had predicted, he lost.

Night time rolled around like an old friend. And by the time it was 11pm, Dean was passed out. Sam and yourself followed short behind him. Except there was a problem. Dean snored- like a lot. It sounded like a damn powertool being drilled into your ear. How the hell did you not notice this before? Did he always snore? Maybe if you turned your back to him and rested a pillow on the ear facing upward…-nope didn’t work.

For the next four hours you tossed and turned, meanwhile both of your brothers were fast asleep and all comfortable. Enough was enough. Grabbing the pillow you were trying to rest your head on, you hit Dean in the arm with each word you whispered/yelled “Will. You. Shut. Up.”. He only sturred a little bit and turned his back towards you, falling back asleep.

This wasn’t going to work out. Plan B: Other Brother, was going into full effect. You got out of bed and walked over to Sam. “Dean’s a loud sleeper,” apparently that was enough for him, becuase he scooted over and made room for you.

Finally, you could get some sleep. Right? Wrong. Just as your eyes were closing to drift into a peaceful sleep, the covers were ripped off of you. Leaving you cold. Sam had stolen the damn blankets, all of them. Even the sheet had come off of the corners and wrapped itself around him. There was really no point in even trying to wake him up. So plan C: Operation get some damn sleep, was up next.


“Where’s Y/n?” Dean was just finishing stretching to wake himself up.

“I don’t know. I figured she fell off the bed or something,” both the boys checked under the bed just in case. Looking on the nightstand, they both noticed the keys were gone.

“Son of a bitch,” the way Dean said it was paniced and filled with worry. All of this melted away when they both walked outside to see the windows of Baby all steamed up from your breath. You were cuddled up to the seat, using Dean’s jacket as a blanket and one of Sam’s flannels all balled up as a pillow. “Well, son of a bitch” the way he said it this time was in awe. Both of them realized how much they loved and appreicated you in that moment. Watching you be at total and utter peace must’ve been their weakness.

WARNING:spoilers ahead, from Mystic messenger, dandelion and nameless(kind of)
so I just read the theories floating around here in tumblr about Rika, being previous MC .
so, what If “Rika” was an alias she used to play the game . of course we know the game gives us the possibility of having a name (maybe ours or just another one) for our character but cheritz didn’t suggest one at the start of mysmes like they did before ( cheritz suggested names before, like Eri from nameless, heejung from Dandelion.) probably the first suggested name in mystic messenger was “rika” but of course, the upcoming MC can’t have the same name.
ok anyways.
let’s take a look at the picture above . something sounds wrong . yes where are your eyes Rika ?? it is quite familiar,our MC doesn’t have eyes too. What if the MC that is supposed to play doesn’t have eyes,
at the first time rika met V she just started playing.

what if the propose of mystic messenger game is to make characters happy and to help them get over their complexes. which makes rika not the main character anymore because she failed during her mission to make everyone happy, I mean at one point almost each character had a crush on her (jumin, yoosung, seven) but V loved her and she loved him back …
let’s suppose that the game rika played didn’t have the rest thingie because the wizard is not done with it yet (so basically she was playing an unfinished game ) she had to go on only one route who was V’s (there is no alternate universes . no rest .) that’s why V is unplayable character, and also everything that happened before we *MCs*start playing, stayed the same, V and rika’s relationship, Rika’s death, saeyoung and co tragedies
..because the game didn’t rest from rika’s part but instead got stopped when rika faked her death and founded mint eye . before the actual Mysmes got released. which make me think : hey what if the game rika played was “the demo” but to her unfortunate luck, the game didn’t restart correctly
.. With error 707, the memories about the first protagonist rika and the first game play wasn’t erased from the game only but also from characters memories, THEY REMEMBER, that made them traumatised by her loss, a stronger reason to save the characters.

“As part of its memory deallocation process, Adaptive Server tries to release the pages of memory allocated to a procedure header when they are no longer needed. When Adaptive Server is unable to release that section of memory, error 707 occurs.”


nothing really gets erased from demo route, but becomes a part of the story itself .

‘events stopped at one stage when she fakes her death and founded mint eye. desperately trying to save everyone in her own way .at the same time … The wizard finished the game…’
We play until we reach character’s eleven’s day. rest occurs. We play another route. The same process happens. until we get to 707’s 11th day, where MC being with seven changed the events.
that is why seven is considered end of game because with secret 1 and 2 , Rika’s story continues !
everything happens and we try to correct mistakes committed in the previous demo game. If you play in the correct order : zen> yoosung> jumin> jaehee> 707 each character will have a universe where they get over their problems. They are saved. there’ll be a universe where rika is -kind of- saved too .


1- it’s my first theory and definitely have holes, be nice guys and correct the wrong things please ! I would be really pleased.

2- if this theory was mentioned by someone else before, please tell me so I can credit properly.
disclaimers :
1- I was highly influenced by other amazing theories ! credits to their proper owners !
2- credits to my 10-years-old sister who actually pointed to a few ideas haha

My Boy Builds Coffins (3/? aka Mortician Yuuri and Goth Victor)

“Victor glides into his office thirteen minutes late, Wayfarers on, velvet lapels billowing, and “Friday I’m In Love” sung in a low whisper.

“It’s Wednesday,” calls the bitter and world-weary child intern Yuri Plisetsky. “Also I’m revoking your Goth card.”

“The Cure is technically Goth,” calls his CFO/CPA Chris Giacometti. Chris has a blond undercut and leans more towards jewel tones as he’s firmly a winter. “Though I mean, maybe not that specific song.”

Victor smiles at him as he opens the door to his office. The space is industrial and minimalist save for the decor choices—velvet sofas with sleek lines and an aubergine chandelier commissioned by a hipster artist Victor saw on display in SoHo. 

If Yuri hadn’t interviewed in a suit, Victor wouldn’t have hired him because the lemon-yellow leopard print he sports upends the curated aesthetic.

Georgi, who depending on how well his partnership with ladylove Anya is going, matches or not. When they’re well, he’s more in bright colors and Halsey. When they are having strife, he’s in grays and Lana del Ray. Right now there’s murmurings of Anya wanting to explore romantic anarchy so he’s kind of somewhere in between.

Victor fell into a google and r/relationships hole for two hours to make heads or tails of “romantic anarchy” before he gave up and contemplated suggesting Georgi put them on a break. Call him old fashioned but being an Elder Goth with a lifelong partner and their herd of fabulous poodles sounds much preferable.

The lifelong partner in this fantasy now represented by a stunningly beautiful man with coal-black hair, glasses, and warm eyes the color of a fine piece of cherry wood. Victor wakes up his iMac and blares baroque styled love songs by long-gone cult artists.

“Oh my God,” cries Mila as she comes into the room in all her lipstick-lesbian glory. She’s the rare redhead that works the hell out of pink, choosing to do so today in a dress she got from Mod Cloth on sale and a pair of gold heels. “What did you do? Who is he?”

“He’s named Yuuri,” Victor says with a grin. “He wears mostly black, drives a hearse, and likes Dragon Frappucinos.” His eyes twinkle at her. “Annnnd he’s meeting me for lunnnnchhhhhh. Pookkeeeee bowlllllssss!”

Mila laughs and grins. “Sounds like you should be playing ‘At Last’ instead of…” she trails off as she walks around the desk to look at his Spotify. “’You Are the One’ by Shiny Toy Guns.”

“I contain multitudes,” Victor huffs. “And he is perfect. I want six.”

“Six what?” Mila asks as she unlocks the company iPhone.

Victor gives her a blank look. “Six…Yuuris? One for every day and one for the weekend? Duh.”

Mila sighs and laughs at once. “God. Young love.”

Victor pouts as she exits his office with a chirp of congratulations.

He wants to Postmates bagels and cream cheese or maybe fancy doughnuts because he’s in such high spirits when Chris knocks on his open door. “Got a few?” he asks. He’s wearing his glasses today, round metal frames akin to John Lennon that are both chic and outdated, a warm emerald shirt showing off his wushu and pilates toned chest, and a pair of dark jeans. 

It’s fairly casual at Living Legend Enterprises. Victor is only so formally attired because of the chance to see Yuuri again. Generally he lets them wear whatever, he doesn’t care as long as they aren’t unwashed or overly sloppy. 

Yuri mentioned possibly dying streaks in his hair, and Victor cheerfully said for him to go for it. He only cares if it’s ugly.

“Yes, Chris,” Victor says. He lowers the volume of his music.

“Well,” Chris says. “I’m reviewing our budget, end of the fiscal year thing. And…I think it’s okay to bring one another full timer on board. That deal with the wineries in Napa is gonna help us out for a long time, and we can handle the overhead without much risk.”

Victor smiles. “Amazing! Get with Mila for the ad.”

“Of course,” Chris replies. He winks, his glasses making it cute but also roguish. “We’ll run the finer points by you for qualifications.”

“Since they’re a second Georgi, just follow his,” Victor says. “It’s neater.”

“Makes sense,” Chris says with a nod.

“Let me know when we have viable applicants, so the three of us can kvetch over who to interview,” Victor says. “No LinkedIns without photos. I mean it.”

Chris gives him a saucy face as he exits.

Victor gets approximately 100% jack shit accomplished. He’s too busy mooning over Yuuri’s beautiful face, his slighty soft round cheeks, the flecks of amber in his brown eyes, the careful messiness of his hair. He’s so cute and perfect. Victor can’t wait for lunch.

Fortunately, at 1:09 Yuri comes in unannounced. “Ugh, there’s some square here in a suit with my name, says he’s picking you up for some kind of dorky bs.”

“It’s lunch, Yuri,” Victor says as he rockets out of his seat. He fixes himself in the full length black framed mirror. Ah yes. 10/10 would date, heckin’ handsome.

“Whatever,” Yuri grumbles. “The guy is a pocket protector and a math book short of being shaken down for his lunch money.”

“Does that still happen?” Victor wonders.

“Nah, it’s a lot worse and meaner, too,” Yuri responds. “Regardless, that geek you ordered from Amazon Now has arrived.”

Victor rolls his eyes. When he enters the lounge, he sees Yuuri perched on the midnight blue velvet chaise thumbing through Nylon on the iPad. His suit jacket rests over the arm, and his dress shirt’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His forearms are nicely toned. His light blue tie is horrendous. “Hiii,” Victor coos.

Yuuri looks up and adjusts his glasses. He’s cute, rosy cheeked and with a bashful smile. “Hi, Victor. Ready?”

“Born ready,” Victor says. 

Yuuri flushes deeper and clears his throat. “Walk or drive?”

Victor spots that Yuuri managed to get rock star parking. The cafe is a half a block. “Walk,” he says though he longs to ride in that fabulous hearse. It’s not fair for Yuuri to lose prime parking real estate. Victor takes the jacket and hangs it in their black wardrobe. He reaches out and takes Yuuri’s hand in his. 

“Come with me,” he says with a bright smile.

Yuuri hesitates but lets Victor escort him down the sidewalk to The Ramen Bar. It’s crowded but not so bad they can’t manage the wait, and when they get a  table, Victor orders a Boozy Boba for himself. Yuuri gets a Lychee Oolong tea with rosewater jelly. 

“Do you not drink?” Victor asks. He’s curious, not picking.

“Not during the work day,” Yuuri replies as he sips his tea. He swirls the straw around clockwise five times. “I don’t want to risk forfeiture or suspension of my license.”

“License,” Victor muses. His index finger touches his lips. “Sales? Insurance? Cosmetology?”

Yuuri bites his lip, and Victor wants to do the same, tug on the plush pink skin  with his teeth while he wrecks Yuuri’s hair and shirt collar. “Um, well…my family has a funeral home. It’s been ours since my grandparents immigrated here. My father owns it now that they’ve passed, and my sister and I will be the joint owners when he retires with our mom.”

Oh. Oh wow. Victor’s more in love than he has been his entire life ignoring the first moment NorCal Poodle Rescue introduced him to a puffy brown puppy he now calls Makkachin. 

Makka gets his ears dyed pink or purple every time Victor has him groomed.

“That’s so amazing!” Victor exclaims. “What a cool line of work. I’m so intrigued.”

Yuuri stares at Victor as if he’s never been told anything like that in his life. Actually, it’s more like he’s staring as if Victor just informed him he’s suffering from upside-down face disorder. 

“Really?” Yuuri squeaks.

They order their food—Victor gets the poke trio bowl, Yuuri the octopus by itself. It’s far too warm for ramen or anything hot to eat. 

“Yes! I’ve always found funerals calming. There’s something soothing about them, especially the religious ones. Like Catholic funerals with all the Latin rites. I don’t know. I don’t want people to die—” Victor is careful to clarify. “But the actual ritual of grief and letting go…I find it quite lovely.”

Yuuri keeps staring, eyes wide and bright like a startled cat. He cracks the knuckles on his index fingers. Yuuri fidgets a lot, Victor notes. He also looks at Victor when he thinks he won’t notice, and turns his eyes away when he’s caught. It’s cute, like he’s a schoolboy with his first crush. At least, Victor hopes.

Victor rests his chin on his right hand. He unabashedly stares at Yuuri, his eyes focused on him intently to catch every movement. Yuuri avoids his gaze as he licks his lips, his cheeks staining like someone brushed a wash of red watercolors over his skin. Victor watches him run his hand through his hair, though it just falls back how it was, and he swallows as he meets Victor’s eyes.

Their food arrives and before Victor can break the silence, Yuuri breaks apart his chopsticks and digs in. He’s elegant and careful when he eats, Victor notes. Almost meticulous, but then his occupation requires attention to a lot of fine detail. Why should his eating habits be different? 

Victor can’t help but wonder if it extends to sex. He really wants to know, he thinks as he breaks apart his own chopsticks and selects a piece of tuna for his first bite. 

Yuuri washes down his food with a sip of the tea. “Um—” he starts. “Well. No one’s ever…people tend to not care for my work.”

“Narrow minded simpletons,” Victor responds without looking up. He can feel Yuuri’s eyes on his face as he combs through his bowl for the next morsel.

“And…you’re right,” Yuuri says. “Funerals are supposed to reassure the ones you leave behind. They’re supposed to enable you to say goodbye, let go, and move on. Sometimes when someone comes to us, like a wife grieving a husband of fifty years, they have a really hard time. They can’t make choices or even fully grasp the situation. It’s my job to help them make sense of it and voice their love out loud one last time.”

Victor looks at him. “That’s beautiful,” he replies.

Yuuri smiles, though his lips are closed. It’s sweet without being sickening, and Victor gives him an expression that amounts to a heart eyes emoji.

They finish their food, and with a refill in a to-go cup for Yuuri and a new non-boozy drink for Victor, he pays their bill. They stroll back to the office, and Victor halfway reaches down and entwines their fingers.

Yuuri chokes on his drink, stumbling, and almost taking them both down hard on the pavement. Victor manages to save the day as he tugs him back, but Yuuri lands half clutching Victor’s blazer. He blinks up at him and Victor’s blue eyes widen a bit in awe as they stare at each other. 

Yuuri blushes again and Victor can’t stop, won’t stop, as he kisses him just a centimeter away from his lips. Yuuri gasps. “Oh.”

Victor pulls away. “Please,” he says. “May I have dinner with you soon? Somewhere with white tablecloths and—-”

“Yes!” Yuuri blurts. He coughs. “Um. Yes.”

Victor is pleased. Victor is so pleased that right outside his office he pulls Yuuri close a second time and after wrapping his hands in his hair, he kisses him for at least ten minutes by his estimation. Yuuri kisses back with skill and equal amounts of affection, his hands clinging tight to Victor’s biceps like he thinks he’ll become a bat and fly away.

God Victor loves bats.

What Victor does not love is his entire staff cat-calling them and pounding on the glass windows of their office front. He actually didn’t even know Mila’s voice could pitch that high, and of particular note in terms of obnoxiousness is Georgi blaring “Young and Beautiful” from Yuri’s desk.

Yuuri breaks the kiss and hides as best he can behind the recycling bin a few feet away. Victor glares at his staff, sending them scurrying away like roaches. He pulls Yuuri out of the not-subtle hiding place and walks him inside to get his blazer. He puts it on him, Yuuri holding out his arms after a moment’s confusion, and Victor may or may not get a bit frisky with his (strong, corpse-lifting) shoulders.

Yuuri faces him and he hands Victor a white business card with an austere typeset. “Here.”

It’s his card with his information, like Victor gave the day before.

Yuuri runs his hand through his hair. “Um…call me. Whenever. I’ll go to dinner.”

He bites his bottom lip and exits, though when he pushes the door open he turns, opens his mouth, and closes it. Victor watches him go to the point where he sees the hearse disappear into the rest of the FiDi.

He looks at the card and grins.

Dogs honestly are so emotional. Idk if cats are like this too because I haven’t had enough cats to really understand, but my dog was raised with her biological sister living just down the street. The owner of her sister was my sister’s best friend so they had play dates all the time and when they got together, you could tell that they knew they were family. Like my dogs of all different breeds and ages do love each other like family, but the love is so different with real family. They wouldn’t leave each other’s sides when they played.

A few years ago, though, my dog’s sister got cancer and was in so much pain that the play dates stopped. Harley, my dog, was kind of sad but she got over it.

Then one day her sister passed away on the other side of town. Harley hadn’t seen her in a year and probably didn’t think of her often, but the day she died, Harley refused to eat and laid in bed all day. She grieved as if she knew her sibling was gone. Maybe she sensed it in us or maybe she just knew, but it was the weirdest thing to see a sibling bond so close

A Healing Heart

Anonymous asked: Hi sweet! You’re one of my fave blogs! can I request Sandor reader where she finds him when he’s injured and cares for him. he thinks she needs to know about his past so tells her some of the things he’s done or seen thinking she’ll get freaked out but she’s says she’s seen worse and has done bad things herself (can be anything) and she doesn’t think it makes him a bad person, she still loves him. And they get married at the compound he was living at in S6. Happy Easter if you celebrate it!

Here you are, lovely!! I do not own Sandor. He belongs to George R.R.Martin. 

Warnings: Spoilers for season 6. Mentions of injuries and blood. Fluff

Pairings: Sandor Clegane x fem!reader

Originally posted by snowbyrdn7

Sandor groaned lightly when he felt it. Something cool dabbing at his various wounds. Whatever it was stopped when he let out a second, much louder groan. The pain was near excruciating. Sandor heard faint voices, causing him to open his eyes slightly. Luckily, the room he appeared to be in was mostly dark, the only light was from a small set of candles.

Keep reading

@ cat owners

Someone help me please??

So my cat, Tiggy, has been acting weird. She’s just constantly meowing and meowing and she’s got her tail wrapped around her. She won’t leave this one spot in the couch and she’s crouched on it, just meowing. But see, that spot of the couch makes me feel upset because, that spot of the couch is where my old dog, Tinkerbell, passed away.

Yesterday she looked fine though. She slept in my room all day yesterday.

Maybe I’m just overreacting, I don’t know.

My grandma is just making me paranoid and stressed by saying she’s gonna die too like my dog.

I didn’t really have a good night sleep either.

So can someone please keep me calm by telling me she’s alright?


Dean. I know you’re in there. People are asking where you’ve been. Cas says have courage, and I’m trying to. I’m right out here for you. Just let me in. We only have each other. It’s just you and me. What are we gonna do?

Originally posted by hello-im-socially-inept


So both my step-sister and I worked at the same smoothie place (we’re the same age, same grade, etc.) Our jobs consisted of taking orders, making drinks, washing dishes, etc. Luckily for us, our owners were super cool, always checking up on our safety, installing cameras, etc. So one day, one of our female coworkers was at the register taking a man’s order. As she was writing his order on the cup, she happened to notice that his zipper was down and his private parts were completely exposed. She had noted that he just came from the restroom prior to taking his order, so she thought maybe there was a serious mistake. She texted our group chat and we all laughed it off. Literally a night later, he comes in again. This time, it’s my step-sister and one of the owners working. Now let’s just set the scene. it’s almost closing time, completely dark outside, and there’s two, mainly defenseless women working in a big establishment by themselves with little to no protection (one of whom is pregnant, by the way.) So my step-sister takes his order, and notices the same thing. He is completely exposed. Obviously this is super uncomfortable for her, so she tries to rush the process. Well, of course, for “some reason,” his credit card declines. So she has to try multiple times to get it to go through, meaning that forces her to make contact with him even longer. It finally goes through, and my sister, now super creeped out, quietly lets our manager know. She quickly makes his drink and he leaves. Obviously this guy is doing this on purpose, so my manager immediately calls the police. She then goes back to watch the camera feed, and notices that the man takes out his phone, and records my sister’s reaction. WTF. Literally the creepiest thing ever. The police did respond right away, and they filed a report and ended up arresting him. However, he definitely did not receive enough time for for what he did. The craziest thing is a customer overheard a conversation about what happened afterward, and claim that the SAME guy did the SAME thing where she works. Apparently the police had been trying to catch him forever. Dumbass used his personal credit card though, so his name and information was in our system. He has been dubbed at the workplace as “flasher guy,” and we are all able to laugh it off now, cause luckily no one was hurt. But seriously, wtf is wrong with people. 

anonymous asked:

Question for everyone: how long is the Lucius Malfoy walking stick replica? One review I saw said it was a bit too long and I was wondering what other owners of it thought? Thank you guys - it's intended as my twin sisters 18th b'day present but we're only 5 foot tall so it way be a tad big.

anyone know?

So I wake up this morning, and I’m all…

When I realize something

it’s October, 

which means…

Originally posted by thepumpkinqueenn

THE WITCHES ARE BACK!! And I can’t help but run around the house yelling 

…my mom tells me to calm down and I just


I take a breath, and just say,

hello -

if you decide to read on you’ll encounter racism, sexism, misogyny, poverty, and injustice. if you do not decided to read on, i will never judge you or hate you for it. we each have to decide how much we can bear.

there are sure to be a lot of triggering things in here, but i don’t know how best to tag them. if anyone has any suggestions, i’d welcome them.

thank you!

Keep reading


hello! its time for an updated version of this.

Who are we? well i’ll tell you since this blog is shared by two now :3

we are both party animals for sure! love party music and having fun! we are both furries!

Alisha = rottweilerkin and angelkin. pansexual ace. she is 16 and only goes by her/she pronouns. she is a poc. she is also diabetic and has to check her sugar levels regularly. she also lives with me and is my big sister!

cody = owner of this blog, pitbullkin. pansexual. im 14 and i go by he/him. im a poc and autistic, I have a service dog named bianca who helps me during sensory overloads and is my weighted blanket at night. Special interest is space.


our carer is @felix-of-the-volturi

our sibling(s) is @celestial-stim 

and @alexthegoldencoyote2

we are apart of 







lgbtkidss (we created it)

we like =

pastels dogs cats

 pitbulls rottweilers

 kidcore stims vintage toys

 pet regression items child regression items

flowers shiny things

glitter my little pony 

butterflies and mythical creatures 

like mermaids angels demons and fairies





()sfw communities/clubs deemed unsafe by agere bellow()