readers of color

Grateful You’re Here

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings:  Angst, Language, Dean being kind of an ass, Fluff

Word Count: 3122

Prompt: Apple Pie

A/N: Hello everyone, this is my entry for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Seasons of Love- Colors of Fall challenge. I know that maybe not everyone celebrates Thanksgiving, but I do and this idea popped into my head. If all goes well, this will be part of of my series for specifically for this challenge. I hope you enjoy, and happy fall!

All mistakes are mine (I wrote this at like 3 in the a.m.) But thanks to @random-superwholock-images for reading over some of it and letting me bounce ideas off, and thanks @torn-and-frayed for keeping me company and giving me insight on doors and Winchester Thanksgivings

Originally posted by spnjensenlove02

“This is ridiculous.” Dean grumbles as you make your way through the dark bunker. It was 5 a.m., the crack of dawn according to Dean, and you knew that had you not used your powers of persuasion, Dean Winchester would still be dead to the world. “Why am I awake, is the sun even out yet?”

“Oh don’t be such a grumpelstiltskin.” You say grabbing his arm and dragging him the rest of the way to the kitchen of the bunker.

“I don’t even know what that means. Besides, we both know that I’m no good without my-” Before he has the chance to finish, you hold a steaming mug of coffee under his nose, the relief instantly shooting across his features.

“Coffee? Yeah, I know, babe.” You smile handing him his mug before heading for the pots and pans. “It’s not like I know you or anything.”

“Yeah yeah.” He grumbles in response, waving you off as he leans against the counter, mug in hand. He takes a long slow sip, a dramatic sigh left in its wake. “Why are we awake this early anyways? And why does Sam get to sleep in?”

“Dean, do you know what day it is?”

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Um, like, NOTHING in this world is taken more seriously than my Hogwarts house. NOTHING.👏🙅👏

How to Make Your Descriptions Less Boring

We’ve all been warned about the dangers of using too much description. Readers don’t want to read three paragraphs about a sunset, we’re told. Description slows down a story; it’s boring and self-indulgent. You should keep your description as short and simple as possible. For those who take a more scientific approach to writing fiction, arbitrary rules abound: One sentence per paragraph. One paragraph per page. And, for god’s sake, “Never open a book with weather” (Elmore Leonard).

But what this conventional wedding wisdom fails to take into account is the difference between static and dynamic description. Static description is usually boring. It exists almost like a painted backdrop to a play. As the name suggests, it doesn’t move, doesn’t interact or get interacted with.

There were clouds in the sky.
Her hair was red with hints of orange.
The house had brown carpeting and yellow countertops.

In moderation, there’s nothing wrong with static description. Sometimes, facts are facts, and you need to communicate them to the reader in a straightforward manner.

But too much static description, and readers will start to skim forward. They don’t want to read about what the house looks like or the stormy weather or the hair color of each of your protagonist’s seventeen cousins.

Why? Because they can tell it’s not important. They can afford to skip all of your description because their understanding of the story will not be impacted.

That’s where dynamic description comes in. Dynamic description is a living entity. It’s interactive, it’s relevant. It takes on the voices of your narrators and characters. In short, it gives us important information about the story, and it can’t be skimmed over.

So how do you make your description more dynamic so that it engages your readers and adds color and excitement to your story? Here are a few tips.

(I have a TON more tips about setting and description. These are just a few. But I’m trying to keep this short, so if you have any questions or want more advice about this, please feel free to ask me.)

Keep reading

Here’s a thing that is helpful and free! It’s a plugin that uses a dyslexic-friendly font and color coding to make reading easier for everyone, but especially for those of us with dyslexia, ADHD, or other learning disabilities.

Above text reads: “Make reading easier and faster with BeeLine Reader! BeeLine uses a color gradient to guide your eyes from the end of one line to the beginning of the next. This seemingly simple tweak makes reading substantially easier and faster because it allows you to transition between lines quickly and effortlessly. Thousands of people have taken our online diagnostic test, and over 90% of them saw a benefit from BeeLine. Many people are able to read 20% or 30% faster with BeeLine, even on their first try. 

Our Chrome extension works great on news articles, wikipedia pages, and other text-heavy websites. You can choose between several different color schemes, and more features will be coming soon.”


Originally posted by bringmesomepie56

Summary: The reader spends a fall weekend in Austin with Jensen but the weather takes a turn and makes for an awkward situation…

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 3,100ish

Warnings: language (but mostly cuteness)

A/N: Written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ‘s  Seasons of Love - Colors of Fall Challenge where my prompt was “Storms.” 

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A Charles Xavier Soulmate AU

Pairing: Charles Xavier x reader

Summary: Everyone has a soulmate, and there is one color that they can’t see until they meet their soulmate, and that is the color of their soulmate’s eyes. For Charles Xavier, this is difficult, because his powers have filled in the blanks, and he can see all colors. He assumes that he’ll just know when he finds his soulmate. Should be easy for a telepath, right?

Warnings: Angst maybe? 

A/N: Let me know what you think and if I should continue this! Not so sure if I will or not. Definitely have some plans, so let me know if you’d like to see more!


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Tom with blue eyes omg.

What’s Your Favorite Color?

Request: yoooo can you do a tom holland x reader request where they meet on set and fluff ensues and such?
Requested by: @princeofsassgard

Pairing: Tom Holland + Reader

Warnings: this might be bad tbh idk :( but no warnings, just FLUFF
Notes: thanks for the request!! xo ily

Tom walked onto set with Harrison by his side like he did when he walked onto any set: his head held high, a coffee in his hand and ambition and energy like no one else to begin this new project. He smiled politely at all the young women who smiled enthusiastically at him. Tom had mentioned in interviews that he was nowhere near shy when it came to girls. If he wanted to talk to a girl or ask her out, he’d have no trouble doing so. He wasn’t cocky about it, he just believed that you had to put yourself out there to get somewhere – that thought came with everything he did.

“So, who else is on this movie?”

Tom sipped idly at his coffee as he turned to face Harrison, realizing he couldn’t really answer his question. He had spent so much of his time the last two months rehearsing and perfecting his deliverance of the new script that he hadn’t even done any research on his new colleagues. Right when Tom went to answer Harrison, his head shifted to look ahead of him as he heard a new voice in the room with them.

That was his first mistake.

You were simply standing there with your hair in a ponytail as you spoke to the director. In the time that it took him to notice the smaller details in your face he had already become distracted. Tom had no trouble talking to women, but, when your eyes came up to meet his he couldn’t stop himself from stumbling over his feet. He stopped abruptly causing Harrison to walk into him, in turn sending Tom’s coffee toward the ground.

“Oh, my god!” He heard your voice again but didn’t dare look up, afraid he might do something even more embarrassing than trip over himself.

“Mate, what the hell is wrong with you?” He turned to face Harrison with wide eyes, noticing that his coffee decorated the front of his white shirt and red flannel. He was about to answer when he heard you again.

“Are you alright?”

When Tom didn’t answer after the first few seconds Harrison nodded slightly and gave you a small smile. “We’re fine. Are you on this movie?”

You nodded with a bright smile. “This is my first movie! I’m playing Penelope.”
“Oh, the lead! Well, this is your counterpart, Tom. Tom, don’t be an ass, turn around and introduce yourself.” Upon seeing you, Harrison had a pretty good idea of what happened, allowing himself to give Tom a subtle smirk while Tom casted him a glare. He composed himself quickly before turning around with a smile.

“Hi, I’m Tom. Sorry for the cold shoulder, I guess I’m just a little embarrassed because of the, you know, coffee thing.”

“It’s no problem,” you offered with a laugh, and Tom had to resist the urge of blurting out that it was quite honestly one of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. “I’m (Y/N)! I guess we’re lovers now.”

“What?” Tom’s eyes went wide and he heard Harrison snicker from behind him. He didn’t fail to notice the crimson color that dusted across your face.

“Um, in the movie. We’re love interests. Sorry, that was my attempt at a joke.” You bowed your head to allow your hair to curtain around the sides of your face to block the brightening color you had been developing.

You both let out a small sigh. This was going to be a long few months.

“Okay, Tom,” You replied, pausing to take another spoonful of your ice cream. “If you could live in any fantasy world. Which would it be?”

You and Tom had grown rather close the past three months of shooting. It wasn’t until the second month in when you both started to grow comfortable with each other. It was when you both had to shoot your kiss scene. You had gone to Tom’s trailer directly and asked if you could talk to him about the scene. You had told him that this was your first on-screen kiss, and because you were nervous you wanted to apologize if you didn’t do as well as you hoped.

“I seriously doubt you’ll be any bad at it.” As soon as Tom finished what he had thought was just a remark to himself, he shook his head and continued with,

“But, if it makes you feel better, we could practice in front of Harrison. I mean, I know he doesn’t equal the crowd we’ll have out there, but it’s something.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind. I love a good show.” Tom rolled his eyes without facing Haz and kept his eyes on you, smiling at you reassuringly.

“I mean, if you don’t mind,” you tried to breathe deeply in order to keep your face at a normal color.

“I don’t mind at all.” And after delivering the few lines that lead up to the kiss, Tom leaned in as the script told his character to, and when you kissed him it changed everything for you.

For both of you.

“Hm,” Tom contemplated your question. “That’s a good one. Maybe Zootopia.”

“Zootopia?” You stifled your laugh as you looked at him incredulously.

“Um, hell yeah. Can you imagine living in a world of nothing but animals?”

“But when you’d be an animal. There aren’t any humans in that universe, doofus.”

“Oh,” his cheeks turned a light pink. You felt bad for the light teasing so you shrugged slightly.

“Well, if that’s the case. What animal would you want to be?”

“Oh, Nick Wilde for sure. I’d be a fox. Cool, clever. I mean, I’m already pretty close.” He winked at you slightly.

“Har, har,” you rolled your eyes in return, your head moving down to rest on his shoulder as his arm went to hook around you.

It was difficult for Tom at first. Despite the hazing that came from Harrison, talking to you was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. He couldn’t understand why you had made him so nervous. He liked to think that it was because this was his first love interest in a film – one that he had to kiss. He was flustered and nervous, never having done a romantic comedy before. But, he knew deep down, that wasn’t the case. In all honestly he never worried about talking to girls because usually they would make the first move. Not that Tom was opposed to talking to them first, but being in the acting world led him to fear all kinds of rejection, so he reserved himself. But, he was just drawn to you.

So, when you came into his trailer that day to talk to him about the kiss, he used that as a way of making himself more comfortable with you. Maybe he didn’t have a crush on his costar, maybe this would solidify that he could be friends with a beautiful young girl that he had imagined kissing a couple of times. But when you agreed, he grew ten times more nervous. and When he finally kissed you it did solidify something – it wasn’t just a crush.

“Okay, my turn,” Tom thought about his question as he tried to ignore the smell of your lavender shampoo invading his senses and the warmth you provided as you inched closer into his side. “What’s your ideal date?”

“Easy,” you answered with no hesitation, “I want to go to a small diner and sit in a booth in a corner. I want the lights to be bright because I love the part of a date when you invade each other’s personal life. Nothing makes me feel better than seeing the expressions on people when they tell me about their childhood, their favorite song, what they would want to be if this were a different era or world.” You paused to look up at Tom, only to realize his eyes were already fixated on you. “I want to know small things about them. What they ate that morning, what their favorite scene in their favorite movie meant to them, had they ever broken a bone?”

Tom felt his breathing become shallow, not being able to shake the feeling that you were talking about him, to him. “Would you let him get a question in before it was over?”

“Of course,” you breathed, “I’d want him to invade my personal space, too. Even something as small as what my favorite color is.”

“And then?” Tom hadn’t realized, but both of your voices had dropped down to a whisper.

“And then he’d walk me home. He’d still be holding my hand,” at this Tom’s hand instinctively reached for yours, lacing your fingers together. You didn’t mind, your eyes were staring into his, to entranced to react to anything now. “He’d compare me to something as cliché as the moon and hopefully tell me that he wished the night never had an end.”

“And then?” Tom couldn’t help the small smile that graced his features as he looked down at you. His eyes alternating from your eyes to your mouth.

“And then he’d kiss me.”

Without thinking Tom leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, still holding your hand. He had only let go when he felt you fighting against his, only to bring them up to his face. His hands dropped down the grip your sides. The kiss was agonizingly slow but it left you breathless just the same.

Tom was the first to pull away, but even then, he hadn’t pulled away completely. He leaned his forehead against yours and looked at you with a small smile.

“What’s your favorite color?”


anonymous asked:

(so I sent this before, but I don't think it send correctly.) I'm writing an IronPanther one shot, and I'm trying to describe T'Challa in a way that isn't fetishizing. Do you have any tips for ways I can describe him that is very appreciative of the way he looks without being hella creepy? What are some dos and don'ts?

Hi!  Thanks for your question :)  It’s very responsible of you to be mindful of this issue.  I’ll try to cover the bases, but I’m not a person of color, so this is only based on reading and research…

Writing Characters of Color: Dos and Don’ts

First things first: I would suggest to anyone writing characters of color that you should follow @writingwithcolor.  It’s my absolute favorite blog on the topic of diverse writing, and includes plenty of resources for most races and cultures.  I’ll probably link you to a couple of their posts in this guide, so keep an eye out!  So here we go…

Do: Make their race clear.

In fact, clearly designate the race of all characters!  Even if a majority of your characters are white, you should state this in their description – otherwise, you’re painting the image that white is Baseline and Normal, while black/brown/beige are Divergent and Strange.  Understand that many readers will assume White Until Proven Otherwise.  This means that if you shy away from stating a character’s color in the fear of offending PoC readers, you’re actually just erasing the character’s race altogether.  (Personal note: obviously your readers will know what color T’Challa is, so this is a point for the future.)

Don’t: Use descriptors that make me hungry.

“Chocolate,” “caramel,” “coffee,” “brown sugar,” “cinnamon,” “honey” – you get the idea.  Anything that could also be used to describe my dessert is probably a terrible idea.  Not only is this not at all how white characters are described, which is unfair, but the reduction of adult, three-dimensional people to grocery items has racially-aggressive roots.  This is where I’m gonna link you to Writing With Color’s guide on how (and how not) to describe characters of color.

Do: Familiarize yourself with the harmful stereotypes.

This means a little research, no matter what race you’re writing.  A lot of the racist mistakes made in literature/fanfiction come from a place of ignorance, sometimes willfully.  People avoid learning the dirty past of racial representation in media, because they’re afraid they’ll subconsciously absorb them.  It’s a weird complex and I advise you, and all writers, to take the time to glance over the most offensive stereotypes for people of color, women, LGBT, trans/nonbinary, autistic, mentally ill, and disabled people.  This will not only keep you from hurting anyone, but it also makes your writing more unpredictable and interesting!  Plus, it makes you not-one-of-those-douchebags-who-write-two-dimensional-exotic-chocolate-brown-mistresses and all that 👍

Don’t: Desexualize your characters.

This is a common mistake that can come from good intentions.  You’re try so hard not to fetishize a character of color and then it reduces them to a non-sexual, non-attractive broom in the corner.  Characters of color – all characters really – god, especially women – should be three-dimensional and fully developed people, who are not sold to readers on their looks and sexual appeal.  BUT this doesn’t mean you should exclude all sexuality in writing.  T’Challa, for example, is a damn handsome man – you can’t possibly write him and ignore how nice he looks!  So don’t be afraid to describe him physically.  You can describe his eyes and his lips and his muscles and we will read happily.  Go ahead and talk about how smooth and warm and rich his skin is.  As long as sexuality is described through a lens of admiration, rather than objectification – and as long as their sexuality exists in accompaniment to their full, developed personality, and not instead of it – then there’s nothing wrong with making a character bangin’ hot.  So do it.  And lastly…

Do: Consider collaborating with a beta-reader.

You said in your previous ask that this was one of your first attempts at writing characters of color, so I’d suggest that if you feel nervous about it, partner up with a beta-reader who has enough experience to keep you in check.  It’s our responsibility as writers (especially for white, privileged writers such as myself) to learn to look at ourselves and assess whether or not we’ve crossed the line.  Having someone beta-read for you will show you the critical thinking process to go through, so eventually, you’ll be able to do it without thinking about it!  Maybe a few people here would be interested in a betaship.

Those are my top Dos and Don’ts, but as always, this is limited to my experience.  Be sure to check out @writingwithcolor and do your research – and remember that no matter how much research you do, you’re bound to make a mistake or two.  If it happens and a reader points it out to you, don’t beat yourself up about it or get defensive.  Just apologize, correct the mistake, and move on.

Thanks again, and good luck :)  Happy writing!

If you need advice on general writing or NaNoWriMo, you should maybe ask me!

hey y'all so my account is negative 78$ and i still need the online materials for my classes(104$ for algebra and 55$ for spanish) i’m trying to get a new place since my lease is up july 31st and my financial aid disbursements are taking FOREVER

if you would like tarot readings or spellwork please let me know
or you can donate to me through

any bit helps and i miss doing readings

I want your colors ✘ Sebastian Smythe Imagine - Soulmates AU ✘

✘ A/N: OKAYYYYY, it’s my first Soulmates AU, so, it can, maybe, be not really good. But I hope you like it!

I’m sorry for my delay, exams t.t


 @lyss-91, thank you for beta sz

Request by @ships-but-never-cannonsI don’t know if requests are still open, but I was thinking there could be a Sebastian Smythe imagine. It’s a Soulmates AU but he essentially treats the reader like shit. It isn’t until colors started fading (for instance, you can choose the AU) and he’s surprised by how alarmed he is that he’s actually losing his Soulmate?

Originally posted by jpgsky

Treating people like shit is, was, always was and always would be fun.  

Well, that was what Sebastian Smythe thought.  

Some people may blame paternal absence, others his mother’s early death, a small part would say he was a nice guy - and that little bit did not involve any of his few exs, thanks. - and the overwhelming majority would think he was just an idiot with hair so neat that it would make even a CW prince vomit. 

But being an arrogant jerk in a world where there are soulmates is a dangerous game. 

Not that Sebastian really cared about this, not really that he knew he cared so much. 

The Smythe always thought he would know when he found his soul mate. Seriously, what kind of blind fool wouldn’t see his own soulmate? 

Obviously, he was one of those idiots. 

“What are you doing in my dorm, macaw?” Sebastian said in a tone of irritation as he entered in room, just wishing a good nap, and seeing one of the members from the New Directions there. 

“Okay, of all the nasty nicknames you gave me, and there aren’t a few, that’s the most nonsense one.” Sebastian rolled his eyes as you spoke. 

“I think it’s tuned like a whistle is easier for your poor public school brain to understand.” He smiled wryly and you rolled your eyes. 

“I just came to get my cellphone.” You continued what you were doing: searching the desk on Jett’s side of the dorm for your phone. “Here it is!” You smiled excitedly. 

“Really, you have a chlid’s animation.” He snorted and leaned against the door, sitting on his bed right away. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You smiled and grabbed your purse. You didn’t like the way Sebastian treated you, but felt that deep down he was a good person and all this was just a scenario to protect himself. The stories that Jett told about his leader really helped you to believe that Smythe had a soul, but his foreboding had come from the moment you laid eyes on him. 

If it was really to be honest, you felt something different the minute you laid eyes on him. Deep in your heart, you felt that maybe, just maybe, he was your soul mate. From the way you felt the moment you first saw him… There was simply no science that would not indicate the catastrophic outcome: soulmate of the evil enemy. 

“What’s your problem? Besides the obvious lack of talent, of course.” You walked toward the door, but you turned to him with a confused expression on your face. 

“What do you mean?" 

"Come on, don’t play dumb.” Sebastian rose from the bed. “Sorry, I forgot who you are, you probably aren’t playing." And again, he acted like an idiot. It made you wonder if you were deluding yourself into thinking he could be your soulmate. 

"Bye, Sebastian, have a good night.” You rolled your eyes, trying to contain your irritation, and turned to the door. But as soon as you put your hand on the silver handle, the front of a male body leaned against your back as Sebastian’s hand was pushed against the door, preventing you from opening it. 

“Do you think you can come here as if this room was a day care just because you’re fucking with Jett?” Sebastian almost growled. He never knew why, but the thought of you and Jett dating made him nervous. If anyone stopped to think, their insults made you worse when Sebastian began to suspect it.

“Wait, you think Jett and I are dating?” You laughed at how stupid that idea sounded. You and Jett were friends since you were 2 years-old, that’s all. Sebastian rolled his eyes and smirked at you. 

“Like I care about who you let in between your legs.” He moved closer to you, his irritation mingling with excitement as you felt his breath against your neck, you sighed and closed your eyes. 

And Sebastian hated it. 

He hated that you were leaving him like that. Excited without a simple touch, needed by you, he just wanted to kiss you and… 

“Bitch.” Those words made you open your eyes, startled. “You think I don’t know about your recent past? You gave it to half the school after you found out that Ian was not your soulmate, that’s sad. But how bold…” A slap prevented him from continuing his speech . Your eyes were filled with tears that you would not let fall. Ian was your ex boyfriend who lied to all school by telling that you fucked with everyone because he tried to break up with you by not feeling like you were his soulmate, when, in fact, you broke up with him when you caught him with his mouth on Quinn’s neck. 

Actually, the Warbler knew that from Jett, he just wanted to hurt you, even you didn’t know this, but it had changed. 

Sebastian Smythe was an idiot, and you felt even more stupid for believing he was your soulmate. 

You turned and opened the door, walking away at full speed. Sebastian didn’t even try to stop you, too weak for his feelings. 

Why was not he angry at the slap? Why did he feel sorry for what he had said? He never, again, never regretted being mean to people. 

Why the hell did he missed you? 

Jett entered the room smiling and the length, arching his eyebrow at the confused look of his friend. 

“You okay, man?" 

"The colors." 

"What about them?” Jett asked confused. 

“They’re weak, ugly.” Sebastian looked at Jett, his clear eyes seemed opaque, his hair was horrible. He went to the window and looked out: the vivid green grass looked dead, colorless. Sebastian managed to capture a couple where the man was giving a bouquet of red roses to the woman. 

Sebastian saw the very moment when the vibrant color of the bouquet began to peel before his eyes and turn into an empty color. 

No, that was impossible. This could only happen if he were losing his soulmate and… 

Holy shit. 

He realized that (Y/N) (Y/L/ N) was his soulmate. 

Why did he feel so desperate for simple stupid colors? Sebastian was not the kind of guy who really cared about soulmate, he thought, but his heart almost coming out of his mouth said the opposite. 

“Damn it!” Sebastian opened the door and hurried off, ignoring Jett’s screams for him. 

He’d done the biggest shit of his life, and that was a fairly contested position on Sebastian Smythe’s list. 

It had not been too long since you left, even if the 10 minutes of your departure were centuries-long for the leader of the Warblers.  

Sebastian had never felt so desperate in his entire life for being alone: his father was absent and his mother died in childbirth, he learned to be alone and got well at it, it was not a real problem. 

“(Y/N)!” He screamed as he stared at you from afar, but you did not turn. Sebastian ran and touched his shoulder. “(Y/N), I’m so sor … You’re not (Y/N).” He rolled his eyes when he realized that he was wrong. “Shit." 

"Did you just call me shit?” The girl folded her arms and Sebastian sighed. 

“Listen, mouse, I don’t have time to…" 

"Sebastian.” You called him and he looked at you. You heard when he called you, but waited to see the scene unfold with another girl as you approached slowly. 

“(Y/N), I usually don’t apologize…” Sebastian’s monologue was interrupted by a groan of pain from his mouth. The girl he’d ‘accidentally’ cursed had kicked his leg and gone. You knelt on the floor, worried, beside your (not?) so likely soulmate who groaned copiously with the hand on his leg. 

“Are you alright?” You asked in alarm and Sebastian nodded, still with a grimace of pain, and sat down on the grass beside you. You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. He looked at you as if you had betrayed him, which only made you laugh more. 

“Really? Laughing at the pain of your soul mate?" 

"Well, you deserved it… Wait, what?" 

"I’m sorry for calling you a bitch, and I never apologize, I don’t mind treating people like shit. But when it was with you, when you walked out the door… The colors began to look uglier than The New Directions dancing. " 

"Go to the point, Sebastian.” You smiled, ignoring Sebastian’s daily cursing at his rivals. So you were not deluding yourself, at all! 

“The colors were lifeless and I was so fucking alarmed when I thought I’d lost you. To me, everything was always fun and games, but I don’t want just it with you, I don’t want to be mean at you or something like that. I want the colors.” As soon as Sebastian finished his speech, you leaned forward and kissed him. 

And that was magic. 

For a second, all the Hollywood clichés made sense. 

The butterflies, the electricity, the feeling of being the most important thing in the world, the fast heart beat, the safety, every little thing. 

If having a soulmate was that, both of you hoped it would never end. 

When you pulled away a little, Sebastian looked into your eyes. 

The colors never have been more screaming.

Falling in love with you (part 1)

This is my entry for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ’s seasons of love - colors of fall challenge! And it is also the start of my very first series! Warning - updates will be a bit here and there because I am fitting this in with the prompts for each season. But plan is 4 parts  (one for each season) and then a final epilogue :) Prompt for this one is thanksgiving, and it’s all in Dean’s P.O.V.

Word count: 1,490

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam

Warnings: mention of previous injury, Dean’s eyes are bigger then his stomach :’)

Sitting at the library table, Dean poured himself another whiskey and watched as Sam and Y/N had a ‘lively debate’ over what this monster they were hunting really was. It was rare to get a case less then an hour away from the bunker, and Dean had to admit he was grateful for being able to come home every night, to a decent shower and his own bed. Especially as his shoulder was still aching from where it had only just recently healed up from the stab wound he’d gotten a couple of cases ago.

“Dean!” Y/N’s voice snaps me back to the here and now, and I look to see both her and Sam staring at me.

“You still with us?” Sam asks, as Y/N pushes herself up from the table and walks over to his side.

“Yeah, just my shoulder’s still a bit sore.” With those words, Y/N’s face softens, and she kneels down beside me.

“Why didn’t you say something you div? I’m sure I’ve got some painkillers knocking about somewhere.” Her jokey tone is slightly underlined by one of guilt; after all, I’d gotten stabbed protecting her from a particularly persistent demon.

“I’m fine Y/N. Promise. But if you feel like giving me a massage, get out all the kinks, I won’t say no.” She rolls her eyes at that, as I give her a particularly lewd wink.

“I was a chef before hunting, not a masseuse. Besides, Sammy boy has a lot more strength then me, so go ask him.” Standing back up, she pinches me on the back of the neck, and when I halfheartedly moan gives it a hard poke with her nail.

“Oh my god that’s it!” she exclaims.

“What?” both me and Sam say.

Heading back to the table the case files are sprawled out over, she starts shifting through photos and pieces of paper until she finds what she was looking for.

“Take another look at the bruising patterns on the back of the victims necks.” Sam takes the photo and studies it intently, and you can see the moment the lightbulb switches on in his head.

“There’s puncture marks.”

“Yep. And given the spacing between them, my money’s on vampire.”

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