rolled up bill

Drug Wars (Pt. 1)

mafia!Jungkook x Reader

“She’s a babygirl Yoongi, and I think I’m in love with her.”

Warnings: There will be very explicit sexual content, violence, drugs, graphic descriptions of everything, so please don’t read if you’re easily triggered. 

A/N: None of these pictures are mine, credits to the owners. There are mistakes, I’ll reread it later. Enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 | The Real Drug War

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“You okay? That was a huge blow!” He was laughing and smiling and completely astounded at the size of the line I had just blown. My name is Jane and I’m fourteen years old. I’m sitting on Alex’s bed with his iPad on my lap with two more lines waiting for me to bring the rolled up dollar bill to my nose. I briefly looked up at Alex and gave him a little smile to let him know that I was alright but when I did I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes were glossy and the whites were a tint of red which made the blue in the irises stand out even more, my sun-kissed skin turned a ghostly white. Who the hell have I become?
I am no longer the girl that would sit on the swings and squeal with excitement as my dad would give me a hard push. I am no longer the girl who would walk into church on Sunday morning with my great grandfather, hand-in-hand. I am no longer the girl that hides in closet with her sister and pretends that the boxes are rocket ships. I am now the girl that can remember her dad pushing her once on the swings before getting high over at the tennis court. I am now the girl that knows what would happen after church when my great grandfather would help me undress. I am now the girl who knows that every time Ashley and I would pretend we’re space explorers on a different planet it was because she didn’t want me to hear my dad hitting my mom.
As I stared at myself in the mirror and these memories danced in my head and the images played back like some sort of home movie, I became disgusted and angry with who was looking back. I brought my nose to the rolled up dollar bill and I inhaled. Just like that, I felt as though nothing bad had ever touched my life. I am Jane Cowens, I am untouchable.”
—  A book that will never be read

anonymous asked:

i was wondering if you would write more about fleur? fleur who realises her beauty is as much a curse as it is a gift, fleur who lives in a world that sees only her face, her body, her hair, but never her intelligence, her kindness, her heart, fleur who loves with all of her being no matter what anyone else thinks of her or her ways.

Mrs. Weasley didn’t hold with fancy, snooty French food so Fleur made bread in Molly’s sunlit kitchen– big coarse brown loaves, long crusty baguettes, soft rolls studded with dates and almonds. She let seeded rye cool on the precise spot on the kitchen counter where the draft would waft the smell up the Burrow’s rickety flights of stairs.

Fleur wanted to make crepes the way her grandmother had taught her, with a twist of lemon and a touch of sugar, but she thought Molly would sniff at those delicate folds of pastry. Instead, Fleur whipped up a batch of scones and weighed them down with handfuls of raisins and a sneaky pinch of nutmeg.

She tied back her long hair with a scarf, like her grandmother had taught her. She cleaned up after, like she taught her. She didn’t slice into the loaves until they’d cooled all the way through, just knocked gently on their hard crusts and listened to the sound.

(Fleur had made crepes for Bill the first morning they had woken up together, not because it was romantic, or because he was beautiful with his long hair strewn over her pillow, but because she had woken up comfortable and content in a patch of sunlight.

She had spent long childhood summers in her grandmother’s little cottage. When butter and sugar melted slowly on her tongue, Fleur thought of fields of yellow mustard flowers, of cast iron pans passed down through generations, of her grandmother braiding her hair with careful old hands and calling her clever, kind, good, and never beautiful.)

Fleur left the bread on the table like a peace offering. She left flour on her forearm, some flecks of caraway seed on her cheek, like a signature. Molly came bustling into the kitchen after a long day arguing on some community affairs board or other in town and found Fleur scrubbing down the last of the counters, her wand flicking, her sleeves rolled up.

(Bill had told her, “You don’t have to win her over, you know.”

“But I can,” Fleur had told him, and smiled.)

She wasn’t sure, though, until Molly took a slice of the seeded rye, smeared it with butter, and took a bite like she was actually tasting it.

“How did the meeting go?” Fleur asked. Arthur came in partway through Molly’s answer (which grew in passion, irritation, and volume as she went on) and made his way through most of a baguette and a can of corned beef (Fleur winced and didn’t comment).

Fleur watched like a hawk (not a songbird) as Molly made her way through each baked good, as Arthur got full and wandered off the bed, as the kids who were home that week strolled in and out, filling their hands and bellies.

When Molly bit into a scone, smiled, and said, “I like the nutmeg,” Fleur’s hands hesitated on the teapot she was filling with conjured hot water. “Ever try it with a bit of allspice?” Molly asked, and it sounded a little like an uphill climb, but she was trying. “I don’t get to play around as much as I’d like here.”

Fleur put down her wand. Molly had taken a bite of everything Fleur had offered up on that kitchen table, watched how the grain of it pulled apart in her hands, inhaled deep. “Have you ever made crepes?” Fleur asked.

“Before Arthur and I were Arthur and I,” said Molly slowly, round cheeks flushing as she looked down at her half-eaten scone. “There was a Beauxbatons boy studying abroad a semester at Hogwarts…”

They broke out the Christmas cards that boy– now a restaurateur in wizarding Marseilles– still wrote her every year. If they got a little butter, sugar, and lemon on them, they didn’t think he’d mind.

“Who taught you to bake?” Molly asked as they washed up after, starlight flitting through the windows into the barely lit kitchen.

“My grandmother,” said Fleur. “She was beautiful.”

Molly snorted. “Well, of course,” she said, but Fleur shook her head.

“You know people tend to have more than one grandmother, yes? My grandmama was all human, a mother of four, a baker, and she didn’t like veela any more than you do.”

Molly dropped her gaze to the sudsy tip of her wand.

Fleur shrugged, and she knew the gesture looked graceful, elegant, beautiful in the pale white midnight, that it would always look that way no matter what she did. “But her daughter fell in love with a half-veela wizard, and then there I was in her pantry trying to sneak another berry tart after bedtime. She taught me everything I know about making things– food, cabinets, flower beds. She loved me– loved me well– and by the end it stopped being despite anything.”

They both went to their beds full, bellies heavy of midnight crepes, fingers still sweet with the remnants of them.

The ghoul banging pipes above Ron’s old room woke Fleur in the morning. Warm sunlight curled through the warped glass of the window.

Her bed was empty, but Bill pushed through the creaking door with his hands full– two plates of fried eggs and her own brown bread buttered up and toasted crispy and golden. “From mother,” he said, and kissed her on the temple.

Slide- S.M. Imagine:

Warnings: language, drug use, sexual content (with unprotected sex) and persuasive behavior.
Word Count: 941
Reader x Shawn Mendes

Wattpad: spikedcherrycola🍒

Part One: https://pattynicolex.tumblr.com/post/154006682740/interviews-aint-free-sm-imagine

6 Months Later:
I watched as the lights from the hills passed through the window of the Über. One of my good YouTuber friends Maggie Lindemann was having an all girls night party at her house and I was invited of course as one of the chief execs at Rolling Stones, currently.
“Miss Y/N, we are here.” says my driver Jesus
“Thanks Jesus.” I say and get out
I walk towards the open patio door and make my way in to the house, jam packed with girls of all persuasions and a few guys on stages dancing.
“Y/N!” squeals Mags
“Hey Mags” I laugh and kiss her cheek
“So there’s a full bar, snacks, rooms upstairs, with condoms, and these nice strippers are here for good time.” she winks and bounces away
“Y/N, damn.” says a fellow elite Liza Koshy
“David let you escape.” I laugh and so does she
“Sure he did, so let’s cut a rug.” Liza says as we make our way onto the dance floor
I think I see someone I think resembles Shawn, the stripper from Club X-stasy and the one who got my exec position secured.
My body presses against Liza and we grind sexily together and I flashback to the hot night 6 months ago in the dressing room with ‘Muffin Man’ and what happened.
His fingers inside me, thrusting and curling, and deeper and deeper in my Hot core. My body glistening as he fucked me from behind in the mirror as I watched it all unfold.
“Y/N are you okay?” asked Liza
“Yeah, I just need to go freshen up and grab a drink.” I say
I make my way through the crowd to the bathroom and walk in, splashing cool water in my face. As I open the door, I see a slender yet muscular body against the doorframe.
“Hey cheesecake.” he says with a cocked eyebrow
“Fuck.” I mumble
“What was that?” Shawn says
“Fancy seeing you here Shawn.” I say sweetly
I knew I saw his body on the stage when I was going to the dance floor, his platinum tight shorts against his chiseled body and tight on his bulge.
I swallowed and tried to exit the bathroom.
“How about we go down to my Jeep?” Shawn says
“What? No.” I say
“Oh come on cheesecake.” he says
“Stop calling me that!” I growl
“Look come on.” Shawn says
He grabs my wrist and leads me out and down the stairs. I couldn’t deny I wanted this but resisting and fight was part of the battle and chase.
“So why are we going to your Jeep?” I ask
“Just be quiet and come with me.” he says
We walk out through the crowd and outside the cool LA weather hits my warm body as we make it outside.
“Come, my Jeep is over there.” he says and leads me to a black looking Jeep with no doors.
“We are not having sex in that thing.” I chuckle
He gets in, reaching in the glove compartment and pulling out his coke stuff.
“Do a line with me, yeah?” Shawn says
“Drugs! Are you stupid?!” I say
“It’s a stupid line of coke and it will give you courage, and by the way I know you’re already wet.” Shawn chuckles
“I’m not wet.” I say with an irritation in my voice
“Then what is this?” he says and touches the small wet spot from where I crawled crossed the console
“It’s like a pussy snail trail.” he smirks and does a line
“Give me the fucking mirror.” I say and take the rolled up bill and snort the line
“WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT SHAWN?!?!” I exclaim at the burn of the cocaine in my nostril
“Feels good.” Shawn says
I crawl in the back and ditch my panties in his passenger seat
“Oh my little cheesecake.” he says and flicks his tongue
“What? You want this?” I say and run my hand up my skirt and between my thighs
He crawls back with me and we begin to make out, soon I find out I am flexible as my legs are behind my head and my wet heat is on display for him.
I watch his 9" spring free from the small shorts he’s wearing as I reach to find him, I tease his tip on my drenched slit, rotating the rubbing between my clit and slit.
“Oooohh.” I moan as I run him down and slowly press him inside me.
“Just as I remember.” Shawn groans
I hold my thighs as he thrust hard and deep, shaking the Jeep.
“Ooh f-f-uck.” I moan
I hear my juices as he thrusts harder and harder.
“Listen to that cheesecake, the sound of the wet.” Shawn smirked
I heard myself letting small flatulences happen from my core.
“It feels so fuck.. don’t stop. Right there.” I moan
His thumb rubs my clit as I watch intently of him slide in and out, each thrust becoming deeper and deeper eventually sending my g-spot into overload.
“I’m gonna cum.” he grunts
“Inside, fuck inside again.” I moan
“You sure cheesecake?” Shawn moans
“Please, please.” I moan
I grip the leather of the seat and moan like a porn star, over-exaggerated and sort of rehearsed.
“Damn my little cheesecake.” he says
“I’m close too, cum please.” I say
“Here… it… comes.” Shawn grunts and thrusts hard and deep, making my orgasm peek and my grip tighten as the warmth fills my loins.
I untwist myself and breath deeply.
“Still as good as I remember.” he says

The Real Drug War

Drug Wars - You should probably read this first

mafia!Jungkook x Reader

Clever as the devil and twice as pretty.
-Holly Black

Warnings: There will be very explicit sexual content, violence, drugs,…

A/N: For people who read my J JK fic, I’m sorry, you’ll recognize one part - I just really wanted it here. None of these pictures are mine - credits to the owners.

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Home, Usnavi de la Vega x Reader

Prompt: Reader is new to Washington Heights, Usnavi helps her adjust + Usnavi de la Vega

Words: 826

Author’s Note: Usnavi, my old love, I always go back to him. Remember in my last fic when I promised my next one wouldn’t be Lin? This doesn’t count, right? Also, we hit 300 followers and this is my 30th fic!

Warnings: They drink beer at the very end.

Askbox | Masterlist


Less than a week after Vanessa moving away, Usnavi noticed a moving truck taking up a spot in front of her apartment complex. He would glare at it from the window of his bodega, knowing that whoever moved in made it official that Vanessa was gone.

Then he saw you, struggling with a few of the heavier boxes, and knew he was wrong to be upset with you. He considered going out to offer you help, as you looked completely helpless in the heat of Washington Heights, but Sonny had yet to show up for his shift and he couldn’t leave the bodega unattended.

So he watched you from the corner of his eye, as you politely turned down offers of help from some passersbys. You took a seat on the stoop in front of your building, trying your best to stay out of the way.

As soon as Sonny showed up, Usnavi was out the door, crossing the street to you. You watched as he approached, not really in the mood to have to fend off anyone while you still had a dozen boxes to move.

“Hi,” Was all he said. You waited for a moment, wondering if there was more.

“Hi?” You finally responded.

He didn’t really think this through. He spent the morning watching you brush off men much stronger than him. How was he supposed to get a cohesive sentence out without looking like an idiot?

“I’ve been watching you,” He physically facepalmed when you sent a questioning glance at him, “I mean, I own the corner bodega,” He shoved his thumb in the direction of the store, where Sonny was excitedly watching him from the window, “I saw you struggling a bit, and wondered if you wanted some help.”

He braced himself for a rejection as you looked him up and down. He wasn’t particularly tall or threatening. He had kind eyes and an innocent smile. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans; casual and approachable.

“Okay,” You said, pushing yourself up into a standing position. He seemed shocked that you were letting him help you. You gave him your name, holding out your hand for him to shake. He fumbled to get his hand out of his pocket, finally freeing it with a few rolled up dollar bills flying out as well.

He cursed under his breath, mentally kicking himself for being so uncool.

“What’s your name?” You giggled, moving to the truck to pick up a box.

“Usnavi.” You stopped in your tracks, turning and tilting your head at him.

“I don’t know how, but that name suits you.” You elbowed him lightly, causing him to fumble with the box he was carrying.

“Thanks, my parents gave it to me.” He shot back, a new and easy attitude radiating off of him. You couldn’t help but feel attached to him already, but you shook the notion away, “New to the city?”

“New to everything. Never been anywhere like here before, it’s pretty overwhelming, honestly.”

“Well, I know this place like the back of my hand. I could show you around? Teach you the ins and outs?” He asked, pausing as you hit the elevator button.

“I would really like that, thank you.”

He definitely knew the place like the back of his hand. Practically everyone on the street stopped to engage him in a conversation, and a lot of them took interest in you.

Turns out, you basically represented a new era for the few blocks of Washington Heights. They saw you as living proof that times were changing, possibly for the better. You took their fascination as a compliment.

Your final stop was Usnavi’s bodega, where his charming cousin had been waiting to hit you with a few pick-up lines, which Usnavi rolled his eyes at.

Much to their surprise, you shot back just as much as Sonny had given you. Sonny whistled in astonishment.

“Quite a catch you got here, cous.” He tisked as he moved to the back room, leaving you and Usnavi to make small talk until the sun began to set.

“Still feel like this place is overwhelming?” You leaned against the doorway of the bodega, peering out at the gentle bustle in front of you. Parents coming home from work, children finishing their schoolwork and going out into the street to play, older women hanging out clothes on their fire escape.

“It’s not home yet.” He moved to stand behind you, admiring the average day in Washington Heights, “But it can be one.”

“Well, Sonny seems to like you. Hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck here.” He offered an ice cold beer, which you happily took.

“All things considered, I have a feeling I’ll be happy here.”

He lifted his bottle in a cheers. You clinked the neck of your beer with his before taking a long, satisfying sip with nothing but Usnavi’s smile on your mind.

Chumpstreet

A/N: Okay y’all, I threw this trash pile together last night for that anon. Again I’m really sorry for the lack of updates. Up next I got a pranking fic with Hercules Mulligan! Also for the sake of this fic the reader is mixed.


Teen!Reader x Teen!Anthony ft. Dad!Dean

 

Originally posted by strengthcas

Originally posted by i-hope-that-you-burrn

_


Dean liked to think that he was a good dad, he taught you how to drive, shoot a gun, he let you have your first drink when you were 12. He was never really a touchy feely dad, he didn’t do good with feelings, or dates, or most things that dad did, but he loved you more than anything which meant a hell of a lot more than him planning you some extravagant birthday party.


But today he realized, he’s not as on top of everything as he thought. He and Sam had just pulled into the bunker after a two week long hunting binge and saw Jody’s car in their driveway.

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ficusul  asked:

Hey, i wold like to send you a request, if you still take them, (before i start i wold like to say that i love your work and as i am writing this im sort of freaking out, or rather fanboying out? ,anyway hope you like my idea)
So Bill and Dipper have been together for a few months but Dipper doesn’t know that Bill is a all mighty demon and the story is about how he finds out(im thinking someone is about to hurt Dipper and Bill goes all You-are-not-gone-touch-my-boyfriend in fornt of Dipper

I love requests! And I don’t plan on closing them any time soon so send as many as you want. 

I love comments and I love getting asks. No need for anyone to be nervous. I love interacting with people.

Also, I’m glad you like my writing! I work really hard on all of it.

Your request ran a little long. It’s about 584 words over. But! That’s ok. It happens sometimes. I’m the writer, it’s my fault not yours.

~SFW requests are always open~

Words: 1584

“Pine tree are you sure this is a good idea?”

Bill asked as he stepped over a tree root, making sure to not let go of Dipper’s hand. Dipper rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Yes, Bill, quit being scared. I been in the woods a gazillion times. I’ll protect you if you get scared.”

Bill was quite a minute.

“I’m not scared.”

He was scared. Scared for his boyfriend’s safety. He knows what’s in the woods. Creatures and monsters. Things that are harmless but also things that’ll tear you apart at the seams without a second thought.

What’s worse is he knows his boyfriend, for all his brains, is stupid enough to approach each and every one of them. Dipper looked at him like he thought Bill was just saying that to be brave. Maybe he was but unlike what Dipper thought, Bill was the stronger of the two.

Dipper didn’t know that though and Bill had been letting Dipper “protect” him over the course of their relationship because it makes Dipper feel strong. Dipper’s never been in enough danger for Bill to have to break character so to speak and Bill hopes the trend continues.

However, he’s getting a really bad feeling today. He probably should have put up more of a fuss about going into the woods but Dipper gave him that look and seemed so excited about showing Bill things he knew about.

This mortal is going to be the death of him. Dipper pulled Bill along rambling about this and that, trying to tell Bill everything he knew. Bill acknowledged him at appropriate intervals and attempted to make it seem like Dipper had his complete attention.

Most of his focus was actually spent monitoring their surroundings. Bill feels he can’t be to careful. They were getting near territory belonging to something Bill doesn’t want to be near. Dipper doesn’t know about it because they aren’t in those silly journals of his. As long as they don’t turn here-

“This way.”

Shit.

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Milk

Originally posted by koreanmusicfan


Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 1.7k

The straight lines that unwind you

She does that little thing with her eyes that says

“We’re off soon,”

———————————————————————————————-

He was never her first love.

Love to her was snow white and fine grained, pretty particles beneath her fingertips that promised an escape. Love was the burn in her nose and blurry vision. Love was dancing in daydreams, away from reality, a white glove that held her tight under the palm, luring her into dizzy warmth that spreads through her veins and loosened her bones.

She was in love with the iron embrace of cocaine, and all he could do is watch as she was squeezed from the inside out.

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this thing is over a year old and i only remembered it bc it was still in my google docs. anyway i really liked it but know i’ll never finish it, so i’m gonna just post what there is of it :)

organized crime rhack au

warnings for: violence, murder, drug use, unhealthy relationships, time jumps, also a nsfw scene

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Money-Drawing Coin Charm

This spell is for those who need to encourage some more cash flow into their life, for whatever reason(s) they may need it for.

* Please note that this spell is NOT fire- or smoke-free. If need be it can be performed outside, preferably on a calm day with little to no winds.

NEEDED
- a gold/silver coin, a coin with a hole through it, a coin of high monetary value, etc.
- two candles, preferably votive or pillar (try to aim for green and yellow, but green and white or just two white would work)
- a fireproof dish/container
- matches
- allspice (ground)
- basil
- bergamot (found in Earl Gray tea as flavouring)
- dill
- oats

* Be sure that all of your plant ingredients are fully dried so they will burn properly

OPTIONAL
- orange or blueberry essential oil
- a small bowl of sea salt or a cleansing incense (eg. sandalwood)
- a piece of paper and a pencil
- string or cord in green, yellow or white, or a necklace matching the material/colour of your coin
- a small bag, an inch or so on all sides, made of tightly woven cloth (green or yellow if you can, though black or white can substitute)

SUBSTITUTIONS
- instead of the coin, you could use a dollar bill or any other paper money, and a small glass vial
- feel free to use any of the following dried ingredients as well as/instead of those listed above, or any other personal associations you have for money/wealth: cinnamon, chamomile (from a tea bag is fine), clover, cloves, comfrey, ginger, honeysuckle, jasmine, marjoram, mint, moonwort, nutmeg, oak chips, orange peel/rinds, patchouli, pine chips, sesame, vervain, wheat, woodruff

* ALWAYS double and triple check that the herbal ingredients you are using are safe to handle and/or burn, and be aware of any allergies or allergic reactions

TIMING
- day of the week: Sunday or Thursday
- moon phase: waxing moon

METHOD

Collect your supplies. Prepare yourself for spellwork in whichever way you normally do (meditate, cast a circle, set up your altar/workspace, etc.). Set out the fireproof dish and the candles, one to each side of it. If you are using a mix of colours, place the green candle on the left side. If you chose to use essential oil, now is the time to anoint the candles with it. Light both candles when ready.

Put equal parts of every herb/plant you have chosen into the dish; a teaspoon or two of each should suffice, depending on how many ingredients you are using. Mix them all up with your fingers. As you do this, focus on the intent of drawing money and wealth your way. Think about the reason(s) you need/want money in your life; if there is a specific way you want the money brought to you (through tips or a raise at work, from paid commissions, starting a business, random gifts, etc.) keep that in mind; also try to set a time frame for when you want your money to appear (eg. in the next couple of weeks to a month). Channel these thoughts and your desire to obtain money into the herbs as you stir them with your hands. Do this for as long as you feel you need to for the herbs to be adequately charged.

If you wish to, draw a sigil on the paper to attract money or increase the flow of funds in your life. Once done, add the sigil into the herb mixture. Stir it in amongst the herb ingredients for their energies to fill and boost the power of the sigil. You may use the following sigil if you wish - the statement is “money flows into my life”:

If you feel so inclined, pass the coin (or bill) through the smoke of a cleansing incense, or mix it around in a bowl of sea salt, to purify it of any negative energies it may have gathered over time.

When you are ready, light a match and drop it into the herbs. Allow a good amount of smoke to start drifting from them, then pass your coin (or bill) through it multiple times. As you do so, feel free to come up with a phrase/chant/mantra to recite mentally or vocally,though it isn’t necessary. You could also use the following (or as an example):

Help draw money into my life
To ease myself of stress and strife
Bring to me the wealth I need
To help achieve my every deed

As the smoke billows around the coin (or bill), visualize it being filled up with a green energy/light that will draw money towards you for your purpose(s). Pass the coin (or bill) through the smoke for as long as you feel necessary, until it feels adequately charged, or until all of the herbs and the accompanying sigil have burnt down to ash.

String the coin if you can/so desire, or you can place it into a pouch with the ashes of the herbal mixture. (If you used a bill, fold it lengthwise and roll it into a tube shape as small as you can to fit it into a small glass vial, with or without the ashes; additionally, you could pierce a hole through the rolled up bill and thread it to fashion a necklace.) Carry the unstrung coin in your wallet, making sure to never spend it. If you were able to string it, you can wear it around your neck, or you could wear the pouch/glass vial with the bill similarly if you decided to use those.

NOTES
- the currency you use does not have to be the currency you use in your country/every day life; you could use any coin or paper money that you want
- it is preferred that you use real legitimate currency in order to draw the like towards yourself, but you can experiment with play/fake money or even printed-out money if you desire
- the vial or pouch can alternatively be placed with/near your financial documents if you can’t fashion a necklace or keep it on you for whatever reason
- this charm can be used for yourself or given to someone else to use; if for a specific target, be sure to keep their face and name in mind as the coin (or bill) is charged, direct its energies toward them, and give it to them to hold on to if at all possible

youtube

“Start Me Up” by Rolling Stones

Tattoo You (1981)

turn around, bright eyes

This had become her norm; meet with clients in the morning, skip lunch and go over defense strategies on her harder looking cases and try to find a replacement for Jesse in the afternoon. The small baggie was now empty and laid in a line on her desk as her fingers worked to roll up the bill in a small tube. She took another line feeling the contents trickle down her throat as she rested back in her cushiony chair. Her back was to the door hearing it open slowly. “Didn’t I tell you to knock before you just waltz in?” She was expecting to see the young intern who had already been late in the morning or anyone else for that matter. Not Brennan, he was the last person she expected to find in her doorway. “Shit.” @brennan-winters

I’ll Be Home

Title: I’ll Be Home

Characters: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester, Santa Claus

Word Count: 2,370

Warnings: Little angsty as per usual but really this is just pure fluff

Summary: This was supposed to be the first Christmas that you and Sam spent together, but after Sam is called away on a hunt he’ll do anything to get back to you.

A/N: Welp guys, this is my first time writing Sam! Dean is honestly my comfort zone, but when I heard this song I couldn’t get Sam out of my head so I hope you all enjoy it!:) This was written for @winchester-writes SPN Christmas Song Challenge! (Yes, yes, I know it’s a little late but you can never have too much Christmas, right?;) The song I chose was Meghan Trainor’s I’ll Be Home, and the object I picked was a ribbon, Once again, I hope you all like it! As I did last time, I’ll be tagging a few writers down below the cut. Just let me know if you want me to stop tagging you, or if you want to be tagged in future fics!


Originally posted by out-in-the-open

“Dean better hurry up,” Sam muttered, checking his watch as he leaned against the wall of the near empty food court in the mall, his eyes glancing back up from the gleam of the metal and surveying the scene in front of him.

There were a few shoppers still mingling about, their arms laden with boxes of all shapes, sizes, and colors, their conversations bubbly and joyous, the words rising and falling in pitch with excitement. A small boy was licking a blue lollypop, the coloring getting all over his cheeks and hands and turning them blue too. There was a young mother, softly cooing at her small baby as she rocked the girl back and forth, the woman’s eyes lighting up when she saw the figure of her husband walking out of one of the many stores, his hand clasping that of another little girl who was skipping with excitement about what was in the bag that he was carrying in his other hand.

Sam’s heart gave a little lurch at the way the woman looked at her husband and he looked away before he could see them interact any more than he already had. It made the hole that was in his heart hurt a little more than it had before; the dull throbbing sharpening into a stabbing pain before it edged away into the gentle pull and push of the discomfort again.

Sam Winchester missed you. Anyone with eyes could see that.

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