purple choke

Not today mv REACTION

Okay first OFF. LET’S START WITH THE GODDAMN HIGH TECH SETTING THAT LOOKED SO LIT , I THOUGHT I’D LOSE MY SHIT , BUT THEN FREAKING KIM NAMJOON SHOWS UP AND WALKS LIKE A BOSS WITH PURPLE HAIR AND I CHOKED ON MY BREATH AND THEN THERE WAS LIKE AT LEAST 30 BACKUP DANCERS DRESSED AS NINJAS LIKE HOLY SHIT, THEY’RE GOING FOR A WILD CONCEPT THIS TIME. AND THEN FREAKING , SON OF A AGUST D , SHOWED UP IN RED AND I PULLED ON MY HAIR CAUSE HOW DARE HE DYE HIS HAIR WITH BLUE HIGHLIGHTS AND RAP AS IF IT’S NO ONE’S BUSINESS. AND THEN FREAKING JUNG SON OF A MISCHIEVOUS DARK LORD FETUS KOOK RANDOMLY FREAKING SHOWED UP WITH HIS STUPID PINK HIGHLIGHTS , SEXY JACKET AND I COMPLETELY LOST MY SHIT.CAN WE TALK THREE SECONDS ABOUT HOW F*CKING TALL HE LOOKS IN THIS MV. LIKE WTF .AM I IMAGINING THINGS. AND THEN KIM TAEHYUNG AND HIS BANDANA , LIKE F*CK , SON , I THOUGHT THAT YOU WERE A NICE KID ?!!! HOW DARE YOU PULL A FOREHEAD ON ME LIKE THIS. I CRIED A LITTLE (OR MAYBE A LOT) AND JUNG F*CKING HOSEOK , YOU SON OF AN EVIL. THAT GUY OWNS HIS INTRO FOR WINGS , CAUSE SHIT , HE’S THE EVIL’S REINCARNATION IN HUMAN FORM . HOW DARE HIS WEAR THESE TIGHT PANTS AND THAT STUPID CAP AND ACT ALL SWAG WHILE I’M TRYING TO REMAIN CHILL BUT I CAN’T CHILL CAUSE ITS FREAKING BTS AND THEN IT HAPPENED…. CHOKE ME JIMIN APPEARED AND I CHOKED ON MY WATER CAUSE HIS GODDAMN PINK HAIR , HIS NOTES AND FOOTWORK ,WE’RE ON A WHOLE NEW LEVEL . YOU CAN’T EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE HOW MUCH PARK JIMIN TRIED WRECKING ME AND JUNGKOOK TOGETHER . I’M SURE JUNGKOOK CRIED SECRETLY AFTER HE WATCHED THE MV , CAUSE JIMIN BE HAVING WAY TOO MUCH EFFECT ON EVERYONE. SOMEONE PARK THIS JIMIN CAUSE I CAN’T .AND THE KIM FREAKING SEOKJIN AND HIS DANCING LIKE HOLY SHIT, HE’S SO GOOD ??!!!HIS GORGEOUS JACKET OMGGDFSHSJSLSLSLZLS SJDJDM HE ETHEREAL BEAUTY MAKE PUNCH A WALL. BTS RUINED ME. SOMEONE COLLECT ME

Purple Moose, Orange Squirrel, and A Pink Dress

Hello my pretties!! Here’s a fun little fic that I put together for a couple challenges! I hope you enjoy it!

Check out my masterlist for more stories!

Word count: about 2700

Reader insert, no pairing. Characters: Sam, Dean, Rowena

Warnings: slight canon typical violence, but pretty mild

This was written for @whispersandwhiskerburn Much Ado About Supernatural challenge, prompts: Pagan God, Pie, Pranks, Quote: “We have seen better days”

For @motleymoose Kat’s Mediocre Challenge, Quote: “You’re evil! And you!! You're… Scottish evil!”, Song: Drift Away by Dobie Gray, Western setting

And for @beckawinchester Becka’s Birthday Challenge, Quote: “Stop pointing that thing at me!”, Police Station setting

Prompts are bolded in the story! Feedback is greatly appreciated! XO

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Originally posted by malasorte-malavita


“Alright, Winchesters! Never fear, your hero has returned!” You burst into the motel room trying your damnedest not to laugh. You pulled the chestnut brown hair dye from the shopping bag.

“You sure we can’t leave it purple, Sam?” he popped his head out of the bathroom, violet locks swaying. He looked freaking ridiculous but you were really trying not to be an asshole about it, so you choked back your laughter, biting your lip.

“No, Y/N. I’m not keeping the purple hair,” he snapped, snagging the box of dye from your hands. His purple head was quickly replaced by the bright orange face of Dean.

“Please tell me you have something to fix this,” he pointed to his face sadly.

“You guys look terrible…” you commented, smirking slightly. Dean glared back at you.

“We have seen better days,” he sassed, highly irritable, his bitchface not nearly as effective when his skin was glowing like a jack-o’-lantern. “Now tell me there’s something we can do for my freaking face…”

Shaking your head slightly, trying not to kick the sad puppy while he was down, you started to pull things out of the bag.

“Squeeze the lemon in with the baking soda and a little water till you have a paste and scrub scrub scrub!” you shoved the baking soda, lemon, and a sea sponge loofa into his hands. He nodded, a man on a mission, and shut the door to the bathroom.

Keep reading

“You did all of this for me?”

So this is our first attempt at a joint fanfiction. Prompt: Feysand - “You did all of this for me?” The rules were: to write 100 words, then after we had both written 100 words we switched POV between Feyre and Rhys. Enjoy bitches x

***

Keep them closed!” I had spent hours preparing, and there was no way in hell I was going to allow Rhys to spoil it. Leading him towards the table, I made sure that his eyes were still closed. “Alright, sit…” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and whispered, “Open!” Rhys opened his eyes, staring at his plate.

“Pancakes?” I could hear his confusion.

“I know that to accept the bond, I only had to formally offer you food once. But I just wanted to show you that… I still choose you, Rhys, I still choose you each and everyday.”

My chest warmed as I brushed my hand through his hair.

“You’re more than worth the effort.”

I kissed him on his temple and moved to lean against the counter sipping contentedly at my coffee. A grin slowly morphed onto his face as he looked at the pancakes and then at me.

“Feyre darling..”

“Shut up and eat your pancakes.”

He began to devour them as if they would disappear. I shook my head laughing inside. He finished and lifted his gaze to mine and slowly, very slowly, licked around his mouth catching any traces of syrup…all except one…

***

I could see her eyes drop to my lips.

“You have some…” She pointed to the edge of her rosebud mouth.

“What? Where?” I feigned ignorance. She started to walk towards me, eyes caught on my lips.

“Right here…” Her lips crashed onto mine, her hands knotting themselves in my hair. I growled, pulling her roughly onto my lap, hands grasping hungrily at her back, her waist, her ass. She dipped her mouth to my neck and nipped me with her teeth. I swore, lifting her up with one arm and sweeping the dishes off the table with the other.

She let out a tinkling laugh that made my heart catch in my chest. I buried my face in her neck, setting her on the edge of the table, peppering kisses down her throat and nibbling her collarbone. Her hands scratched along the back of my neck before tracing the curve of my wing. I shuddered leaning into her, meaning to lay her flat and claim seconds. However she jumped up, grabbing my collar and lead me towards our bedroom.

“You ready for dessert?”

I entered to see palettes of paint laid out on every surface. Oh she was wicked.

***

The grin on Rhys’ face had made my hour of preparation worth the effort. I dipped a finger into a delicate shade of yellow. Walking towards him, I wiped the paint along his jaw, framing his face.

“Your turn,” I challenged, planting a kiss on his lips. In two strides he reached the table and dipped his thumb into a royal blue, then turned to me and brushed a trail of blue along my cheek.

“You know I love painting,” I teased, eyes glittering.

“I know you do…” He pushed me back towards the table, hands resting on my hips.

His fingers began teasing circles around my hips, trailing around to my ass. His forehead gently touched mine, and he kissed me hungrily before his lips moved to my ear.

“I confess that I’m starting to see the appeal myself,” he murmured.

His breath was hot and heavy and I quaked from my neck downward. I fumbled behind me and dipped my fingers into the nearest pot. He was still grinning wickedly. My thumb reached up and gently stroked his lips leaving a trail of purple paint, a slightly darker colour than his eyes, behind.

“Then paint for me Rhys…”

***

She didn’t need to ask twice. Hell, she didn’t even need to ask the first time. Pushing the paints aside, I laid her on the table, trailing hungry kisses from her ear to her jaw. Her hands in my hair made me growl. Kissing her harder, my hands grasped the front of her dress, ripping open the bodice. I wasn’t in the mood to wait. The unexpected sight of Feyre’s lacy undergarments made my breath catch.

“Feyre darling…” I kissed her neck,  her breasts, her stomach, moving down, until a noise at the door stopped me. I turned around. Azriel.

“Uh-hmm sorry,” he said, averting his gaze. Beneath me I could feel Feyre adjusting her dress to allow her any shred of modesty but I caught her wrist.

“How urgent?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Actually never mind, carry on,” his last words echoing down the corridor.

I chuckled, turning my head back down to Feyre, her face scarlet.

“I’m just glad it wasn’t Cassian”

The words barely passed her lips before the door flung open and the devil himself appeared.

“Az was just being polite as usual. Chop-chop my Lord and Lady we have a matter to attend to!”

***

“Cass you are an ass!” I yelled, sitting up and furiously adjusting my dress.

“Hey, that rhymes!” he grinned. Cassian only narrowly escaped the pot of paint I threw at his head, a leafy green splattering on the walls. Catching sight of the pot of fiery red in Rhys’ hand, Cassian took a step back. “Calm down lovebirds, I just thought you might want to know.”

“Know. What?” Rhys growled.

Leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, the epitome of relaxation, Cassian smirked and said,

“Amren is having a bit of a… tantrum, shall we say.” Then we heard her.

A bellowing screech echoed through the House of Wind. I could feel Rhys freeze against me, our shared glance full of worry. Instantly Rhys was bolting past Cassian, me hot on his heels. We burst onto the balcony in a whirl of talons and night. Amren stood in the middle of the room, quiet deadly rage spilling off her. Panic set in until I saw Mor standing near the open balcony doors desperately choking back a laugh.

“Amren, talk,” Rhys demanded.

“Cubic zirconia,” she seethed.

“Sorry…what?!”

She flung a diamond encrusted necklace towards us.

“Jeweller thought I wouldn’t notice?

***

This was not happening. I spun around to face Cassian, seething with rage.

“You, the most powerful Illyrian to ever live, couldn’t take care of this?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m petrified,” he crooned, that damn half smirk on his face. I clenched my fists. Breathe, my love, trickled down the bond. I took a deep breath.

“What is going on?” This was not happening. Mor, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up until this point, exploded with laughter.

“GOT YOU!” She collapsed in a heap on the floor. “When…when we got home I switched them and you…”

I stood dumbfounded. Mor was rolling on the floor cackling wildly, Cassian roaring at Amren’s face, even Az who had slunk in quietly behind us had a quiet smile on his face. His eyes glimmered when he caught sight of Mor on the ground.

“Did you know about this?” I demanded.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” he said, handing Amren a necklace identical to the one she had thrown.

“Pack of hooligans…” Amren grumbled. A few seconds passed before Feyre doubled over laughing and the rest joined in.

“Why are your lips purple?” choked out Mor.

My eye twitched.

An Unwanted Memory

Red had been consoled and told about himself by several people over the last few days, but it was still so overwhelming, not knowing much. So… strange. He was exhausted every evening, too, and he couldn’t tell if he was always like that, or if it was from the mental drain of having so much information pounded into his head every day, and trying to memorize it all. Either way, on the third day since his sudden amnesia, he was just getting to sleep.

Then his eyes snapped open.

In a flash, it all returned. Every memory he’d had before, going back to when he was just arriving in Snowdin with his brother, finding a job, getting a house, building their lives, meeting friends, everything.

And some things from before that, too.

“Hold still, Subject One, you are too delicate for this to go badly.”

He was being strapped down onto a table, but he was fighting it. His eyes were both flashing red rapidly, but he did not yet have enough control over it for solid colors. Half-formed bones sputtered to life, tried to fly at the faceless (faceless…?), tall man in a lab coat, but most of them dissolved before they reached him. The few that did only did one damage each, and the man didn’t even flinch. The attacks didn’t even put a sliver into his HP. He forced Red’s hands down, and slammed cuffs over the wrists. His ankles were next. The man then went for Red’s neck, and the child bit down on his hand - hard.

“Yeouch! Let go, you little rat!”

“grrrhhhh!”

He did not let go, not for several seconds, until the man finally tore away. He got the strap around Red’s neck and tugged until it hurt, and a choked “ghk!” sound escaped the test subject. He couldn’t breathe very well. His chest was starting to heave in a panic. But the anger was still prevalent

“how could you do that to him?? what did he do wrong?? he was screaming!! and you didn’t stop!”

“I am aware. It needed to be done. Hold still. You’re getting your plate too, and I’d much rather have you alive at the end. You’re too valuable to dust, despite your weakness.”

The panic was starting to win out over anger. The strap of his neck was too tight, that and how he was starting to hyperventilate, and the fight was leaving him.

“hhhh please… please… don’t… please, you’ll kill me… you’ll kill me, i’ll die… please… hhh… please…”

“Quiet, Subject 1!”

The last of the straps were tied around his forehead, knees, and upper arms. An engraved plate was placed on the table beside him, and the shrouded figure in a lab coat picked up a drill.

“Now. Hold still. The less damage, the better. If you flail your hand, it will hurt more.”

“please…hhh… please… g—– please… hhhhplease…”

“Begging will get you nowhere.”

The drill came down oh the bottom of his pointer finger metacarpal bone, with a sickening sound, and Subject 1′s spine arched as he jerked up.

“gh-aaaaahhhhhhHHHHHHH!!!”

He screamed, throat quickly becoming raw. It cut off after a few seconds, however, as he couldn’t catch his breath from practically being choked. It turned instead into gasping and sputtering, weak struggles to get in enough oxygen, and weakened cries whenever he could. It was pure agony, as G—– finished that hole and moved on to make another at the top of the same bone. He couldn’t help it, his hand jerked, and the pain increased. His HP slammed down from 1 to 0.8, then shuddered and went back up from a forceful shove of green magic from the machine hooked to his soul. The pain continued to build, and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think for the pain, his whole world was agony-

“ghhh!”

Red jerked up into a sitting position, sucking in a pained gasp. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe properly. His chest was constricting too much, his hand burned, and he could hardly process the other memories that had returned, he just

screamed.

He was on the floor, choking on nothing, tears pooling around him, when Boss ran into the room.

“RED! OH STARS, YOU’VE REMEMBERED… BREATHE, RED, PLEASE BREATHE!”

The taller skeleton knelt beside him and reached out to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, but the contact made Red jerk and let out another scream, this one more strangled,

“SH-SHIT, WHAT DO I… RED! RED, CALM DOWN! PLEASE CALM DOWN, EVERYTHING IS OKAY! YOU’RE SAFE!”

“hhhhkkk… ghhh… ghhkk… hhhh…”

“RED, PLEASE! PLEASE BREATHE!”

He heard his brother begging him to calm, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t breathe. The strap was still around his neck, too tight, his hand was being drilled into, the panic was twisting his chest so much he was afraid his soul might burst through his ribcage.

He lost track of time in the pain, but it took nearly 20 minutes for him to stop hyperventilating.

When he was aware of the real world again, there was a mug beside him on the floor, a wisp of steam rising from it, the soothing aroma of golden flowers reaching his nasal cavity. He slowly uncurled from the ball he’d curled into. His hand hurt. He held it close, trembling, while the other reached for the tea. When he grabbed it, he was shaking so hard that the spoon tinkled constantly against the edges of the mug. Another hand gently pushed his away and lifted the mug.

“HERE.”

Boss helped him sit up, then brought the mug to his mouth like he was helping a sick child. He took a few sips, and leaned against Boss. The taller skeleton wiped his eyes and brow, uncharacteristically gentle.

“ARE YOU BETTER NOW?”

“i… i think so…”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DYING.”

“s-sorry…”

“WHAT HAPPENED?”

“i… gaster.”

“WHAT?”

“gaster. our creator.”

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? DID YOU HAVE A NIGHTMARE?”

“it wasn’t a nightmare. it was a memory.”

“MAYBE YOUR MEMORY DIDN’T COME BACK RIGHT, BECAUSE I’VE NEVER HEARD THAT NAME BEFORE.”

Red felt another squeeze in his soul. Despite still trembling, he pulled away and got unsteadily to his feet.

“R-RED-”

“i’m fine. i just. i need a moment.”

“RED, I DON’T-”

He was gone in a flash, arriving in the Wishing Room. There, he sat down heavily, and pulled the mitten from his right hand. Gaster. That was his name. The man who drilled this plate painfully into his hand, as he begged and screamed. What had happened to him…?

A sudden chill went down his spine.

A very faint tendril of magic slipped down his back, even though he was pressed against the wall of the cave. He jerked away and spun around. Nothing there. But his bones began to rattle again as the faintest of voices reached him.

I will return.

He fainted.


M!A OVER - RED HAS REMEMBERED SOMETHING NEW.