she smells funny

nieladasdenani  asked:

Hi! I love your stories. So much. And I was just thinking, if you find the inspiration and when you have time, maybe you could write more Drunk!Kara? Because is so precious and adorable and hilarious and also sweet. Maybe it could be that some alien's defense mechanism works like a sort of drug on her and the effects are a lot like she's drunk? Extra points if it Supercorp but feat. Alex, Maggie, and whomever you'd like :) oh, Cat! Cat too. Pretty please

i send you the sun ~3500 AO3

“And what did you say was wrong with her?”

Kara frowns. Leans forward and tries to wiggle her shoulders between the two seats. The seats groan and then there’s a hand pushing her back, “ease up Kara. She’s older.”

Well, that’s stupid. “It’s a car.”

Alex chances a quick look back at her, warm brown eyes worried. “The alien released chemicals that are-”

“They make her drunk?” Maggie interrupts bluntly.

“Toxic,” Alex finishes, eyeing Maggie before dipping her head and, “but yeah. That works.”

Which is ridiculous. She’s not- she scratches at her arm, looks out the window and the nice sky and bright stars and lights and- what was she? She’s not drunk.

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anonymous asked:

Hello JHH! Could you please write a rpf with Gillian being high on painkillers and David being her nurse? 😘

Okay but this is going to be a total nonsense! (And thank you so much to @sembell for the beta and to @becksndot5 for reading this nonsense first)

“You smell funny,” she says, sniffing around his face interrogatively as he starts to fix the bandage around her swollen foot.

“Nice.” he deadpans with a grin on his face. “How about you stop moving, so I can do that correctly?”

He has never been good with his hands, and he isn’t fond of seeing blood, open wounds or swollen joints, but as soon as he heard her cracky voice over the phone, he couldn’t resist and bought a plane ticket for London. She could use some help with the boys and everyday tasks. And he could take care of her just like she took care of him a few years ago, when he ended up in the hospital almost blind after a basketball game.

“You sound funny too.” she says, squinting her eyes as if to have a better look at him.

When he arrived, he hadn’t expected the painkillers she had to take to make her high enough to think that he was Mulder in person, nor to call him Mulder for the entire first day.

“Okay, honey. Just lay down, and…”

“As if you were far far away but also very close.” she continues. “Why are you so far away, David?” she furrows her brows in concern and all of a sudden, tears start to fall down her cheeks, her mouth distorted with pain and sorrow.

“Hey, hey! Babe! I’m right here, okay? I’m here!” He waves at her, making her smile. “See? It’s me. I’m not far away. I’m with you. So now, lay down, and…”

“Did you cut your hair?” she interrupts him again, her sweet smile fading.

“Yes. Yes, I cut my hair. Let me guess: I look funny, right?” he chuckles, and finally manages to continue wrapping up her ankle.  

“No! I loved your hair! Why did you cut your hair?” she begins to cry again. “Can you put it back? Please, David!”

“Gillian,” he sighs. He starts to wonder if adding up a sleeping pill to her painkiller would be okay. Probably not, but he’s not getting any younger, and he feels like having a whining baby on drugs around him. It’s ten times worse than the day they took mushrooms together and she insisted to get out of his trailer and wander in the forest at night. Naked, of course. He’s certainly not going to survive fifteen days with a high and incoherent Gillian. He needs to come up with a plan. “No, Gillian, I can’t put it back. But it’ll grow again soon, don’t worry.”

“When? Tomorrow?”

“Yes. What? No! Not tomorrow!” Her mouth distorts again, and she’s about to burst into tears. “Yes! Yes! Tomorrow! My hair will be back tomorrow. In one beddy-bye.”

Did he just say “beddy-bye” to the woman he loves? he wonders. Oh god! Okay, she needs to stop talking, and he needs to finish her bandage and let her sleep. She’ll probably feel better after a beddy… after a nap.

“Here.” he says as he holds his phone to her. “West showed me this app. It’s funny, you’re gonna like it. You take a picture of me, and you can change my haircut. Do you want to try it?”

She nods with a smile and finally falls silent for a few minutes, allowing him to finish her bandage properly. All he needed was to occupy her mind with something else. Now he’s going to make dinner while she sleeps a little bit, and after a few hours, she’ll be back to her old self and they’ll enjoy a calm and snuggly evening watching a silly British TV show. He wonders if they have Dancing With the Stars here too.

“I’m finished, clumsy beauty.” he says, proudly. “Did you find me a good haircut?”

“Yes, I like you in red, but people say you look better with blond hair.”

“People? What people?”

“People on Twitter.”

Teamiplier Coraline/Others AU (Part one)

Thanks to @turquoisemagpie and to @northeast-artist98 for the idea! I used a mix of the book and movie for this so yeah! (Sorry for not tagging you earlier northeast!)

~Part one (You are here), Part two, Part three (coming soon!)~

 Amy ran her hand against the railing as she left the house, camera in hand. She was very excited to explore for a bit and get out of the new house. She, Mark, Ethan, Tyler, Kathryn, Seán, Robin, and Signe had just rented this house for a year, maybe more, to make filming easier. Teamiplier had all come together but the others were going to be here any day. Amy and Mark had one apartment with another room for Seán and Signe since it was decided the couples would have one apartment. Tyler and Ethan had the bottom apartment since they were used to living together. Kathryn was staying upstairs. Everyone’s rooms, expect the couples, would probably change since they all had no idea where Robin might stay. He ‘just wanted something easy’ (There was another apartment in the house but they did not rent it ). ‘Course the easiest one was Chica. She just floated around the rooms and around the house.

 Amy did not care. As long as she was with Mark and her friends, she was happy. However, Mark had been a bit snappy with her. The moving put a lot of stress on him and sleepless nights, so she understood. Still, she missed the happy, energetic Mark. He could use some space at the moment.

  That’s what brought Amy to explore the grounds. With her trusty camera in one hand and her stylish outfit on, she was for anything. 

   She walked around the house, getting different angles of the house. However, it still looked menacing from every angle. She gave up on taking pictures of different places on the house’s property and moved onto the forest. 

   Amy spotted Chica a few times. She called out to the cute fluffy dog, but Chica seemed too distracted by something. 

   After a while, Amy’s camera’s short battery life ran out, so she went back home. So far, she found an apple orchard, an old tennis court that had weeds popping through and a decaying net, the old well the owner told them about, and an old garden that was dead and lifeless. Amy walked into Mark and her’s apartment. She walked into the kitchen to grab a drink and saw Mark, who was doing something on his laptop.

   “How’s it going, Mark?” She asked as she pulled a water bottle from the fridge. Mark responded with a grunt. 

   “Hmm. Have you talked to Seán and the rest yet?” She asked, opening her water bottle.

   Mark let out a frustrated sigh and said, “No. Why don’t you go see how the others are? I’m busy.” Amy frowned.

   “Mark, if something is wrong, you can talk to me.” She tried a sad smile.

   “Nothing’s wrong. Just busy.” He said, not looking up at her. Amy frowned and left the kitchen.

   “Sure.” She mumbled. 

   Amy decided to fully check out their apartment before checking on the others.

   Her search led to nothing interesting, at first. Then, she found a locked door. It was a huge, oaken, carefully carved door that, she felt, lead to something interesting. She was not sure what would be on the other side. She went back to Mark.

   “Hey, what’s on the other side of the big, locked, wooden door in the room with the fireplace and old furniture?” Amy asked, with one hand holding onto the door frame. Mark lifted an eye to her.

   “Um, we shouldn’t have a locked door. Hold on.” Mark said, getting up to grab a key from the large key drawer. He shifted through the keys, decided that the oldest, black one, who’s top resembled a button would be the right one. 

   “Let’s try this.” He said, following after Amy to the room. She showed him the door. Mark took the key and unlocked the door to reveal a bricked up wall. Amy frowned. 

   “Really? I thought it would lead to someplace cool!” Amy looked over to Mark. He shrugged.

   “It probably once led to that spare apartment. Some doors, like this one, were probably bricked up when they divided up the house.” Mark turned on his heel and walked back to the kitchen. Amy took the key out of the door and closed it. She put the key back to where it went.

   “I’m gonna go check up on the others,” Amy said. Mark nodded. She grabbed her camera and left. 

   Amy left their apartment and stumbled upon a few packages. She looked down and saw a bunch of packages addressed to Kathryn. Amy collected them in her arms. She smelled something funny. It couldn’t be the packages, right? She thought. Amy brought the packages to her nose and took a quick sniff. She pulled them away from her face and gagged. Amy quickly ran to Kathryn’s apartment and knocked on the door. Kathryn opened it and smiled. 

   “Hey, Amy. Those mine?” She asked. Amy nodded and handed out the packages. 

   “Jeez, Kathryn! These smell horrible! What did you get?” Amy said, her face twisting to disgust as she remembered the smell. Kathryn laughed. 

   “Well, I’m not gonna say but this is gonna be funny for us and horrible for the boys,” Kathryn said, taking the packages from Amy. 

   “In that case, buy all the weird stuff you want. Hopefully, they won’t try to rope us into whatever it is.” Kathryn took the packages and smiled them, before doing the same as Amy. 

  “Yep! This is just as bad smelling as they said. I’m gonna go put thesis away. See ya around dinner.” Amy nodded and smiled. 

   “Till then.” Kathryn closed the door, leaving Amy to check on the blue boy and the stone-faced man. She quickly went down to their apartment and knocked.  

   When they did not answer after a minute, she knocked again and called out, “Are you two decent or not?” She heard footsteps and then the door opened. Ethan was there. 

   “Sorry, Amy. We are still not done unpacking. It’s been a bit hard for us to adjust to this timezone. I was taking a nap and I think Tyler fell asleep in the kitchen.” Ethan said. Amy smiled. 

   “I feel that. Mind if I help? I need something to do before dinner.” Amy asked. Ethan eagerly nodded.

   “Please!” He said, taking Amy’s hand and pulling her into the apartment. Amy saw boxes upon boxes. She cringed. 

    “Jeez! I knew you guys had a lot of the equipment but I’m sorry we gave you most of it.” Amy said. Ethan shrugged, letting go of her hand. 

   “It’s cool. We don’t mind. It’ll be easier when the rest get here. Speaking of which, do you have any idea when they are getting here?” Ethan asked. Amy shook her head.
    “I asked Mark the same thing. He said any day now.” Ethan frowned. 

   “I thought they were already here, like before we came, but no one was here.” Ethan went to the kitchen to wake up Tyler, who was indeed asleep, leaning on the counter. Amy looked puzzled. 

   “What? What make you think of that?” Amy asked, but Ethan was trying to wake Tyler so he could at least move to his room. 

    “Oh, Amy’s here?” Tyler mumbled. “Hey, Amy.” He came into the main room, rubbing his eye. 

   “Hi, Tyler! Maybe you should take a nap?” Amy suggested. Tyler shook his head. 

   “Nah. I’ll only mess up myself more. I’m not used to getting up this early, ’s all.” Tyler said. 

   “Yeah. It’s been taking a toll on Mark, too.” Amy internally cringed think about the toll it seemed to take on everyone. 

    “Alright. Want any coffee, guy?” Ethan called out to them. 

   “Yes, please!” The two responded. 

    After they all sat around, drinking coffee for a they, they started to unpack. They decided not to touch any of the tech equipment, since they could be moving the tech rooms around. So, they moved the boxes of clothes into they boys’ rooms. Next, they moved the boys’ stuff, like lamps, into the right rooms. Amy helped them organize the tech in separate sections, based on cords and monitors and everything in between. Soon, Kathryn came down to tell them that dinner was ready. The three stopped unpacking and organizing and went up. Tonight was Kathryn’s night to cook. 

   They all gathered around the table Mark was once working at to eat. Tonight’s dinner… something. Kathryn scooped some onto everyone’s plates. The stuff seemed to be stingy and kind of goopy. 

   “Um, does this have any peanuts?” Ethan asked. 

   “Why would I poison you like that?” Kathryn asked, frowning. 

   “Just checking. I can’t really tell what’s in it.” He shrugged. Kathryn rolled her eyes and smirked. 

   “Okay, yeah. It is kinda mushed together. It’s a casserole. I promise it’s good.” Kathryn said, sitting down. The boys started to dig in. Amy took a bit and decided it was not that good. She tried to eat half, before giving up.

   “I think that’s all can eat, tonight. I’m just not hungry tonight.” Amy said. She pushed away from the table and cleaned her plate, before placing it in the dishwasher. 

   “Is it not good, Amy?” Kathryn asked. Amy shook her head, no.

   “I have no idea what’s up with me. Sorry. I might be coming down with something. I’m gonna take a bath. I’m sure I’ll feel better after that.” Amy shrugged. 

   “Good night, if I don’t see you later.” Tyler said. Ethan nodded. 

   “Yeah. Sweet dreams.” Ethan said. 

   “Good night!” Kathryn said. 

   “Good night, everyone. See you guys tomorrow.” Amy waved, before leaving. She climbed up the stairs and into the master bathroom. She drew a warm bath and added a bath bomb before soaking in it and her thoughts. 

   After the bath, Amy did feel batter and went down to check in on Mark. He was back at work. Amy sighed and leaned against the door frame. 

   “Hey, Mark. Are you gonna stop working?” Amy asked, frowning. Mark shrugged. 

   “Yeah.” He said, as if was not sure. “Be in bed soon. I promise.” Amy sighed.  

   “Yeah, sure. I miss you, Mark.” She said, looking down. Mark looked up at her.

   “We just had dinner awhile ago.” He said, confused. 

   “Yeah. We did.” Amy left the door frame and got ready for bed, easily stinking into sleep when she cuddled into the blankets.

   The sound of squeaks woke Amy up from her sleep. She opened sleepy eyes to hear the sound of squeaks and claws against the wood rang out in the silence. Amy leaned over to see Mark asleep. No need to wake him up, she decided. Amy slipped into her slippers and pulled on a robe, walking after the squeaks to see what kind of venom they had.  

   The sounds seemed to always be just in front of her, until the soft footsteps turned away. She followed them to the room with the old door. The door was opened slightly. This puzzled Amy as she remember shutting. The sound of the creatures came from behind the door. She opened the door, thinking she had them caught, but she was mistaken. 

   The door opened to a dim-lit hall. Amy was curious. She walked down the hall, noticing the hall was the color of her old room in California and the floor was a rug that they had to leave behind. It made Amy feel happy and calm, plus it added to her curiosity. She quickly walked down the hall and opened the door.

Girl Time

A little alone time with Artemis and Vetra for @bloomingcnidarians because she’s a lovely person who deserves good things and it’s been a long week and it’s only Wednesday. <3


Ryder’s hands were steady, despite the tangle of sheets that ensnared both her and Vetra. Her concentration was unbreakable, and each stroke brought her closer to the completion of her task. On the field, Vetra admired Ryder’s single-minded focus, how she seemed to tune out distractions to get the job done—whether that job was activating a monolith to fix a planet or finding just the right case of beer to bring back to the Nexus for Kesh. In their moments alone, when that focus was turned on Vetra, it was like the rest of the world ceased to exist.

“You’re sure about this?” Vetra asked again, still a little nervous.

Ryder’s concentration remained unfazed. “Of course I am. I’ve done it a million times. Just sit back and relax.”

Vetra relaxed her shoulders and the hand that Ryder currently held. She glanced curiously at Ryder while she worked. “It smells funny.”

Ryder grinned. “You get used to it. It only smells like this when it’s wet, anyway.”

Vetra couldn’t help wondering how long it would be wet and what if it got on the sheets? Would she be able to wash it out? Maybe they should’ve tried this on the table first, where the cleanup would be easier.

“I can feel you worrying, you know,” Ryder said without looking up.

Vetra felt her neck warm and she ducked her head. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’ve never done this before, and I don’t even know if it’s something turians can do without getting an allergic reaction and—”

Ryder laughed and finally looked up, catching Vetra in a quick kiss. “It’s just nail polish, silly. If you don’t like it, we can remove it.” She leaned down and blew warm breath across Vetra’s talons. “Hand me the green one?”

With her free hand, Vetra found the small bottle of light green paint and handed it to Ryder, who quickly unscrewed the cap and in one fluid motion, added a diagonal stripe across the now-lavender middle talon of each hand. It was … rather pretty, actually. It felt strange to see it, but a good kind of strange. She felt lighter somehow.

Ryder held up her own many-fingered hand and smiled broadly. Her nails were painted in the light green color, with a diagonal lavender stripe crossing the nail next to the middle finger. “We match, see?”

Vetra’s mandibles quirked into a grin. “My talons are purple with a green stripe, and your nails are green with a purple stripe. Isn’t that the opposite of matching?”

Ryder cocked her head and leaned in close, her lips almost touching Vetra’s mouth. She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of Ryder: sweat and gun oil, yes, but also something else, something minty and floral. Something uniquely Artemis.

“We fit, then,” Ryder said, her voice low enough to be suggestive, even with only one larynx.

Vetra felt Ryder’s hands sliding against the bare plates of her chest, across her shoulders, and down her arms until they reached her hands and twined their fingers together. She opened her eyes to see Ryder looking intently at her with a wicked smile that said she had a plan.

“That nail polish needs time to dry,” she said, the tone of suggestion still bright and vibrant in her voice. “If you do anything with your hands, it’ll ruin all my hard work. You wouldn’t want to do that, now, would you?”

Vetra’s heart beat hard against her chest. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good,” Ryder said and pulled the sheets away, pushing lightly on Vetra’s chest until she leaned back. “Then don’t move.”

A breathy laugh escaped Vetra as she complied, but it was cut short in a sharp gasp as Ryder turned her focus to her next task.

Things That You Said When You Were Drunk

11) Things you said when you were drunk

Word Count: 985

A/N: So cute omg. I just really like the idea of Warren being a happy drunk, I know it’s not really canon and he’s probably the angstiest, saddest, angriest drunk ever but I think it’s cute okay? Okay.

Warnings: Fluff. Mentions of sex.

Request a “Things that you said…” Here.

You pushed through the sea of swarming people, grabbing a chair from under the kitchen table and yanking it past bodies, towards you. Stepping up onto the chair, you scanned the room searching for the oh-so-familiar curly blond hair and fluffy white wings. He had to be around here somewhere. You had kept tabs on him all night, that was until you stopped for a minute to coax Kurt down from where he had been dancing on the bar. You had turned your back for a minute. Just one minute. And in that minute you had lost him. You sighed, hopping down from the chair and ducking under limbs and squeezing past bodies. You hated these parties, you were always the “designated driver”, even though the parties were all held at the mansion, it was always you who had to be the one to wrangle your friends and make sure they didn’t do anything that they would regret in the morning. You sighed as you made your way towards the DJ at the front of the room. It wasn’t like you had a choice. Your mutation came with an unfortunate side effect. You couldn’t get drunk. So it wasn’t like you could just go off and let loose, but still you wished that one day someone else would take over and you could just enjoy yourself for once.

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I grew up in a community that had a lot of Indians, I think I was lucky that way; I never had to worry about being completely separated from my culture. And I had other people around me who understood what it was like to be an Indian in America.
That doesn’t mean things were perfect, I still felt the sting of stereotypes and racism.
I also grew up around a lot of East Asians, especially in school. We had a food day in one of my Social Studies classes and every year our white teacher would pick a different region of the world. She said all the Asians could bring in Asian food. My friend and I went up to her to ask if we could bring in food, she said no, only Asians could do that. I was constantly told that India wasn’t part of Asia, that I wasn’t Asian enough to be Asian. A fragment of the colonialism and imperialism that continued on, to further white supremacy, to break us apart so we couldn’t work together.
I had a white girl once ask me, “Isn’t India in Africa?” literally days after we had finished studying South Asia in class.
One of my Hindu religion class teachers told me that when she grew up, in Canada, she would wear a bindi to school. She wore it because she wanted to, because it made her feel more comfortable, more in tune with her religion, with her spirituality, with her home in India. She told me that kids would throw rocks at her. She would cry, she would feel alone and different, but she didn’t give up wearing it because sometimes you have to be true to yourself.
I had a white boy once ask me, “Do you smoke pot for your religion?” despite the fact that I did not smoke pot, nor did I know anyone of my religion who did.
One time my best friend and I went out to eat with our families. Her dad ordered some food, asking for something slightly different than what was on the menu due to dietary restrictions. Nothing difficult, just replace one thing with another. The manager told him that he could not come into their restaurant and order food that wasn’t on their menu with his “unintelligible foreign accent.”
I had a white girl once ask my friend, “Isn’t your race extinct?” because 4 billion Asian people on this planet and white people still don’t care that extinction means we would all be dead. (We would be if the colonizers had their way.)
Some girls in my elementary school would ask me about why I didn’t eat meat. They would call themselves my friends and then say things like “I can’t believe you’ve never eaten meat. We’re going to sneak some into your food one day, you’ll love it. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
I had a white woman once ask me, “You speak English really well, where are you from?” as though it were not possible for me to be an American with my brown skin.
My mom told me that she was too afraid to speak when she came to America. She was so afraid of people making fun of her for her accent. She wouldn’t wear a sari to the grocery store for fear of people staring at her and calling her a “dothead.” She wouldn’t bring her lunch to work because people would say she smelled funny, but going to the restaurant meant she had to eat nothing but lettuce for a meal. She let herself go hungry out of fear.
I had a white boy once ask me, “Do you speak Indian? No wait, Hindu?” He couldn’t even remember one of the names of one of the languages that Indians speak.
My friend told me that her grandmother asked her to buy Fair and Lovely because she was too tan, too dark. The commercials in India tell us that our skin will look more beautiful if it’s lighter. My grandmother sometimes tells me about how my mom was so beautiful when she was younger because, “she used to be so pale.”
I had a white boy once tell me, “I’m Asian on the inside” because he was smart.
One time someone who called herself my friend told me that my complaining about the cold didn’t count because, “technically you’re from India, so you’re used to hot weather.” Right, because clearly being Indian counteracts the weather in America.
I had a white woman tell me once, “You’re not Indian, you were born in America, you can’t call yourself an Indian.”
That’s why you white people can’t wear bindis. That’s why we beg you not to wear saris when you’re not invited. That’s why you can’t get the Om symbol tattooed to your body, that’s why you can’t put a third eye on your forehead. You took our culture away from us by mocking us. You forced us to look like you, to act like you, by telling us who we are supposed to be. Because we no longer feel comfortable wearing our culture. Because mehndi and bindis on our beautiful brown skin means we get slurs thrown at us, but when the white girl does it, it’s a fashion trend. Because we have felt the pain for far too long to let you take our culture away from us when you already corrupted our country and our history.

Pairing: RivaMika
Slice of Life
AU (Living Together)
Rating: G

A/N: HUWAH! I pushed myself to write,edit, post this in one day. This is written from the Revi’s point of view. For those who don’t know, Revi is Mikasa and Levi’s cat, in the AU, ‘Living Together’. He’s a mostly black cat, with white toes and underbelly. It was pretty fun writing this, I hope you understand his cat-lingo. Ahaha.


Revi sat on the windowsill of the living room, slowly turning his head, idly gazing out the window. Petra was on her phone sitting in the sofa. All was quiet but of the ticking of a clock hanging on the wall…

Levi and Mikasa were gone. It has been a fair amount of days since their sudden departure. A week perhaps? A cat really doesn’t measure time the way humans do. I’ve been feeling uneasy, like a stranger in my own home. With fair enough reason; things had been strange lately. Well, it has been for a while actually… 

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Imagine Scott finding out you’re a witch

Originally posted by myteenwolfobsession88

“This is Lydia.” The secretary gestures to the strawberry blonde who’s standing next to the desk. “And here’s your schedule. If you have any questions or need help finding a class, Lydia can help you.”

You nod as if you understood, but in truth you were overwhelmed by the new school. “Thank you,” you say as Lydia smiles at you. She leads the way out of the office and then walks next to you once you’re in the hall.

“What’s your first class?” Lydia asks, dodging a hadsy couple.

“AP Bio,” you say, glancing at your schedule.

“Here it is.” Lydia open the door, the pre-class  chatter spilling into the hall way. “You can come sit over here, my lab partner moved a few days ago.”

You nod, greatful. The teacher spares a glance up from his papers before looking back down and slashing a red mark across an unfortunate students paper. Looking around, you see a boy with dark brown hair, smelling the air, a confused look on his face.

He looks at the clock quickly before turning and beckoning to Lydia. “Excuse me,” she says politely before smoothing her dress and making her way to the boy. He whispers something in her ear, and as hard as you try, you can’t stop listening.

“Who is she?” the boy asks.

“Y/N. She’s new.”

“She smells funny.”

Hearing this, you discreetly turn your head and sniff. Mangoes.

“Scott! Be nice,” Lydia chastises.

The boy, Scott, grimaces. “She smells funny, like she’s one of us.”

You freeze. One of them?

Lydia rolls her eyes. “Ask Derek,” she says already heading towards the lab table. She smiles at you as she sits down, and you mimic her smile.

Looking back at Scott, you watch as he pulls out his phone and starts dialing. You super-hearing picks up the words.

“Derek, this is Scott.”

“Too early for this, Scott. Call me later.”

“No wait! There’s someone new at school. She-”

A loud sigh. “Go talk to her and never call me again.” Now Scott sighs.

“She smells funny.”

“Goddamnit Scott, this isn’t funny!” Derek growls from the other end. “If she smells funny, its her problem, not yours.”

“She smells like us, except not really.” Scott barges on, not letting Derek comment. “It’s bitter for a minute, then sour, then super sweet. Do you what she is?”

There’s a pause. “So her scent changes?”

Scott confirms this.

“Sounds like she’s a witch, and because of the sweet smell, she’s not dangerous. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks Derek.”

Derek growls. “Never call me again.”

requested by @i-dontfollow-instructions :) (i feel like this turned out differently than what you had wanted lol. hope you still like it!)

Blood in the Water (You x EXO Kai) ]Star Wars!au] Part 4

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

“What happened in here?” 

The floor was littered with broken glass and furniture, and parts of the wall had been pushed in to the brick. You drop your backpack in the doorway, stunned, but Kai is the first to move. “Stay here.” He says quickly. He pulls his saber from his backpack, the jacket of his school uniform flapping in the breeze. You’d only been away for a few hours, but your aunt’s house was completely trashed. She was likely still in the city, working back-to-back shifts as a bartender in jedi-only bar. 

Footprints littered the dusty ground, and you pick up a cracked frame lying in the debris, swiping off the dust. It was the only photo you had left of your parents. You’d always felt a little uneasy; sometimes it felt like your parents were total strangers. None of your habits were the same, and often you felt alienated from them. 

But seeing their photo on the ground, discarded by whoever came here…it hurt. You tap the frame against a broken table, pulling out the glass and slicing your finger in the process. You stuff the photo in your pocket and stick your finger your mouth. 

“Seems like they took anything worth any money.” Kai gingerly hops over the back of the sofa, putting away his saber. “They’re probably selling it on the black market.” He gazes around the room, meeting your eyes. “If you want, we can head down there. I know some people who could help us get it back.”

“No.” You shake your head. None of it mattered to you, anyway. “Let’s just report it. We should call some troopers here-”

“No.” Kai says quickly. You frown at him. “Why not?”

“What…will they do?” He hesitates. “If you don’t want to get everything back, there’s nothing they can do anyway.”

“What do you mean? They can catch whoever did this?”

“In this neighborhood?” Kai shakes his head. He did have a point. Your aunt’s salary bought a tiny flat on the bad side of the city. “I’m sure your aunt will understand.”


“Let’s be reasonable here, okay?”

Sehun carefully lifts both hands, staring into your eyes. One hand was wrapped tightly around the lapel of his leather jacket, the other holding your saber just inches from his neck. Oh Sehun may have saved your life, but now his hung in the balance.

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Locked Room- Part 01

(Part 02 =>)

Valerie had no doubts when the assignment had been sent to her Open Case file, it was a deliberate insult. Give the pointless, dead-end case to the dead-end Ranger. A series of random, high-profile burglaries completed unrelated save that there was exactly zero evidence to support the victim’s claim that someone had broken in. Everyone before her had browsed the cases and decided to kick it down the line until it finally fell to someone who couldn’t.

After all, faking a robbery for the insurance money was a lot more plausible than an invisible thief.

She bore through without a single complaint, refused to give them the satisfaction. Six months, hundreds of hours, sleepless nights, and hard-toothed stubbornness, Valerie didn’t have a lead. She didn’t have a suspect.

She had a fraking arrest.

Every day the old-guard from her dad’s days would pass by her desk. Hey kid, how’re those ‘burglary’ cases going? Any luck with catch your little ghost, Rookie?

Yeah actually, she’s in interrogation cube forty-two, thank you very much.

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Batgirl and Azrael Gift Exchange from Azrael 61 2000-02

Cassandra Cain and Jean-Paul Valley team up during No Man’s Land and have some of their best panels ever IMO.

Jean-Paul is sweet and innocent and kind of awkward while Cassandra is quiet (she never says a word), enigmatic and somber.

Their interaction is great and other writers of Cass should have noticed that less is more regarding Cass talking. She communicates really well if she’s drawn right with body language, facial expressions and hand gestures. Of course a few words every now and then would be needed for her own title but lots of dialog isn’t needed in most cases. She has a powerful presence with few or no words.

And Azrael was spot on and played off Cass nicely. His line about talking too much was great as was his line “she smells good already!” So funny but his lines are believable and heartfelt.

What a great combo and so alike: both with terrible, horrible upbringings who are super deadly with almost super human abilities. Yet Jean-Paul is unsure and naive without his mask and Cassandra has varying degrees of language and reading abilities.

I’m sure New52 will never bring back Jean-Paul since he has ascended into Heaven (or something).

But please, please bring back Cass and do her right! :)

Why I never met my aunt Sheila

My mom told me this just once, when I was a teenager. We were home, there was a huge storm outside and the lights had gone out. She whispered the whole time.

After this, whenever I asked about “that horrible story about aunt Sheila” she would reply she didn’t know what I was talking about, that she had never told me anything about Sheila.

I can’t explain, but I’ve always had the impression she was lying.


“Many years ago, my sister Sheila was in a very bad place in her life. She was deeply unhappy, stressed, sick and with no perspectives of what to do to get better.

Maybe because of her terrible situation, she started to have a recurrent, heinous dream, that always started with her walking through a heavy mist, alone. Then, slowly, something would come out from the fog: a deformed, very tall woman. The woman had tumors hanging from her stomach and neck, and in Sheila’s own words, it was as if she had fallen from a ten story building, got up and kept walking, her limbs broken and twisted in wrong ways. There was complete silence throughout the whole dream, except for one single moment - just once - when the woman would let out a mangled, piercing cry.

The woman was our mother.

Sheila was very scared. After weeks of having to go through the same dream over and over again, she started to freak out, convinced it had some terrible hidden meaning. I remember her spending whole nights awake, reading books on voodoo and black magic. One day, she eventually arrived to the conclusion that somebody had put a spell on her.

She decided to visit a close friend of hers, that was considered to be some kind of medium - I remember that she dressed funny, smelled of incense and liked to read the Tarot for her friends.

So Sheila went to visit this woman and begged her to read her luck; she was sure something about her terrible situation would come out on the cards. Her friend agreed, read the cards and said a lot of vague and inespecific stuff (“you’re going through a time of change”, “dedicate yourself to your inner growth”). Not finding an answer to her questions, Sheila started to cry.

Her friend asked why she was crying, and my sister told her about the dream.

“Oh. Yes”, she answered, shuffling the cards, “now I remember. Yes, I did that”.

Sheila later told me she just stayed there, immobile, looking at her friend. Finally she mustered the strength to ask: why?

“Your mother asked me to”, she said, lightly. “She wants a sacrifice. You’re the offering”.


Last week we had dinner with my grandmother. My mom cooked her traditional beef stew and put on her best clothes. My father was in a great mood, so he told lots of stories about his childhood with his brother Benny.

My grandmother listened silently, then turned to me and said:

“Did you know I had another child? Yes, but you never met her. She was your aunt Sheila. She died in birth. That’s nice, eh, dying while giving life to another”.

Through my grandmother’s open mouth, I could see the bolus of bloody meat going up and down her tongue and gum.

“Thank God. I never liked that one”.

So I blame @captainbisexualcherry for my need to share this snippet with you all. I’ve been writing a superparents!Stucky fic (they take their kids to the Grand Canyon with Nat and Clint and their kids) for awhile and thought I’d share a little snippet of it. 

“Are we there?” Winnie asked as Bucky held her in his arms. She peered over Bucky’s shoulder with sleepy, big eyes. Her ringlets were frizzy from travel. “The plane smelled funny.” She wrapped her arms tighter around Bucky’s neck.

“We’ve got a layover, princess,” Steve answered.

“Whatsa laveover?” Jimmy asked as he clung to Steve’s back, kicking his heels back into Steve’s hip bones.

“A layover is when you gotta wait for another plane to come and get you at another airport,” Steve detailed. They’d wandered out from the gate and were now starting to see restaurants and gift shops. O’Hare was an international airport. It was much more crowded than JFK was, considering it was further in the day now. Steve felt his heart stutter a bit as he winced, thinking about people coming up to his kids and asking them what it was like to have Captain America as a father. It wasn’t uncommon for people to come up to Jimmy and Winnie and ask questions they had no right asking, especially paparazzi. It drove Steve crazy. As long as they didn’t separate, everything would be fine.

“I hafta pee!” Winnie cried out. “Dad, I hafta pee!”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky responded, running his metal hand over her head softly. “Steve, you wanna find a restaurant to get some breakfast? I’ll take them to the bathroom.”

“I don’t have to pee!” Jimmy protested, digging his heels into Steve’s hips again.

“I’m not gonna go back twice, Jimmy,” Bucky stated, his tone gentle but authoritative. “Now or never, solider.”

“Okay,” Jimmy sulked. Steve let him slide off his back.

“Hold my hand, Jimmy,” Bucky instructed, reaching down for his son’s hand with his metal one.

The three of them wandered off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving Steve to look at all the various restaurants that lined the airport.

“Steve! Steve!” a man called from behind.

Steve turned to see Clint, carrying both his kids: Callum and Nicole. Steve offered out his arms, taking Callum so Clint could focus on holding Nicole.

“Thanks man,” Clint breathed out. “Kid’s gettin’ heavy.”

“Am not!” Callum defended, sticking his tongue out. He had bright eyes, just like his father.

“What did I say about rude faces?” Clint asked, his brows shooting up into his hairline.

“They make people wanna seek revenge…” Callum sulked.

“What?” Steve asked, flabbergasted. “The heck kinda parenting is this?”

“Hawkeye and Black Widow parenting,” Clint responded.

“You two should write a book. Where’s Nat?” Steve asked as they walked toward a café.

“Bathroom,” Clint responded. “She hates using the plane’s restroom.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Why? Think someone’s gonna drug her or something?”

“It’s happened before,” Clint sang out. “You headed for breakfast?”

“Yeah. Kids haven’t eaten yet.”

“Cool. Us too.”

They waited in line together, idly talking about being tall and having to deal with the cramped seats in coach. They both missed the quinjet and its luxury. Plus, according to Clint, layovers were “the devil.” Steve ordered two white milks for his kids with egg and cheese on English muffins, and for him and Bucky, he ordered four egg, cheese and sausage sandwiches on the English muffins both with fruit cups and snagged a few power bars down at check out as well. He sometimes hated having a disgustingly high metabolism.

“That’lll be thirty- Oh my God!” the girl at the register cried out. “Oh my God! You’re Captain America!”

Steve opened his mouth, feeling his heart leap into his throat. “Uh, y-yeah. Steve.”

“Oh my God. Can I please get a picture with you? I know that’s like, super rude, but my boyfriend’s a huge fan of yours and he’ll just die!”

“Uh, sure, but, please, don’t let ‘em die. I’d feel bad.” Steve winced at his pathetic excuse for humor. It wasn’t funny, but he’d realized that after speaking. When people recognized him, he couldn’t help but get a bit nervous. Sometimes it wasn’t bad, other times it was almost painful. He’d been stressed from traveling already. The worker wasn’t doing anything wrong, just sometimes Steve wasn’t in the mood to be fawned over, even if he knew they meant well.

The girl laughed, pulling out her phone and running around the counter. She came up to right under Steve’s chest so he had to bend down but she was able to snap a few pictures. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“No problem,” Steve answered, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Clint stood there with a raised brow, leaning against the glass counter that showcased the pastries, both his kids at his feet. Steve just shrugged at him.

Steve paid the girl the astronomical fee for the food, gathered it all up on a tray and walked over to a table where Nat, Bucky and their children were waiting.

“Hey Hollywood!” Bucky teased. “When’s the movie coming out?”

Steve scoffed, setting the food down. “When I get my first Oscar, I’m not thanking my husband for all his support.”

“Ouch, baby!” Bucky responded, grabbing his heart and pretending as if he was actually wounded. “I wonder if they’d ever actually make a movie after you. Ya’know, cause you’re the first openly bisexual superhero.”

Steve shrugged, passing out the food to his respective family members. “Don’t really care.”

“I think it’d be good,” Natasha added. “The world needs to see bisexuality. It’s completely erased in modern media. You’re either overtly gay or overtly straight. No middle ground.”

“I’d rather not have a movie about my love life,” Steve quipped. “It’s bad enough as it is.”

“Oh that Hawkeye!” Clint mocked dramatically as he came over and set his tray down. He passed over a yogurt parfait to Natasha. “Oh he’s such a cool Avenger! I should totally get my picture with him! Yeah! That Hawkeye! I just need a picture with him cause my boyfriend is such a fan!”

“Someone’s bitter,” Natasha answered as she sprinkled the granola atop her yogurt.

“I mean, I’m an Avenger. I’m just as important as the rest of you!”

Bucky leaned into the table, batting his lashes pointedly at Clint. “Welcome. To. My. Life.”

Clint scoffed. “Yeah but, you’re like, not actually an official member! I’m an official member, man! I drive the quinjet!”

“And you wield such a cool bow,” Bucky said sarcastically. “Wow, totally my favorite Avenger.”

“Please,” Clint groaned as he helped Callum open his juice box. “We all know your favorite is Steve.”

“Mmm,” Bucky hummed, resting his chin atop his metal hand as he drank in Steve’s image. “He sure looks good in that suit.”

Steve blushed, dipping his chin as he ran his fingers through Jimmy’s brown hair, smoothing it out from the plane ride. “Oh please, we’re sitting with our children.”

“You’re such an old man,” Natasha teased, flicking her brow up once, a smug smile at her lips.

“Can I wear your suit daddy?” Winnie asked softly as she nibbled on her sandwich. “I wanna be Capim ‘Merica.”

Bucky laughed. “When you’re older, baby. Drink your milk.”

Winnie seemed content with that answer and chugged down at her milk carton.

“Woah, hey!” Steve protested, reaching out to grab at the milk carton. “Don’t drink it so fast! You’ll get sick!”

“She’s so tiny,” Natasha commented. “Maybe she needs more milk. You two hoggin’ it over at the Rogers-Barnes house?”

“She’s just small,” Steve grumbled. “Nothin’ wrong with that.”

Bucky smiled adoringly. “Damn right, Rogers. There’s nothing wrong with being small.”

Steve smiled, feeling his cheeks and shoulders heat up. He stroked at his daughter’s hair, proud of her.

oki but let me tell you about Eddie aka the bes girlfriend Eddie it’s late I’m alone in my bed and I miss Eddie here we go

when were going to bed she will spoon me (best big spoon ever!!!!) and stroke my back and sing me the same lullaby every night and she is the best

she smells like a dream just wow she smells so soft and clean like how you Mby imagine a cloud to smell???

she is so funny!!! wow very funny!!! she makes me laugh always and always laughs at my silly jokes and laughs a lot she is very happy and funny

also she is wonderful with words and she’s written some really nice poems for me bc she is a romantic demon prince

she !!!!never!!!! let’s my butt go untouched so my butt always feels loved

her hands smell so good I could just fall asleep in her hands for some days maybe

when I’m with her I don’t really have to communicate properly bc she understands all my squeaking and whimpering and tooting and she doesn’t mind that I talk to my deaf cats in squeaks and toots

she is amazing 10/10 would recommend she is da bes and I love her so so much I kiss her a lot bc she’s very kissable and pretty and kind and also I love her

WestAllen Ficlet:

Title: Seeking Home
Rating: R
Wordcount: 908

Summary: Barry comes home early one morning. Iris is pleased to see him. Established relationship fic.


Barry arrives home at a little before 6AM, that Saturday. Iris’s stuff is scattered around the kitchen – her laptop’s still open on the table amongst a sea of notes and coffee mugs. She must have been up late working.

He takes off his shoes and tip-toes upstairs to their bedroom – where she’s asleep, of course, a tight huddle on his side of the bed, face mostly obscured between the pillows and the comforter and her hair falling everywhere. He can hear her breathing, slow and even. One hand is just visible, thrown out loosely toward him, little fingers curled.

Barry lets his heart swell, for a moment – thinks about whether to climb in there with her, safe and snug, or go back downstairs and wake her up with breakfast in a couple of hours.

Either way he really needs a shower. It’s been two days of exhausting work in Star City and there was hardly time to eat (he’s had ten pizzas in the last two hours he’s been so hungry), let alone rid himself of the sweat and grime that tends to accumulate whilst taking heroic, city-saving measures.

He’s shrugged off his jacket and cardigan and is tugging at his shirt buttons when he hears Iris stir.


Her eyes are cracked open, her face raw from sleep, voice small – she twists, clumsily, pushing back the covers. And oh god, he can’t resist her, so warm and soft in the early morning light.

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  • *221B*
  • Sherlock: *making tea* ...I was just getting stuck into the case when the idiot went and confessed everything. I didn't even get to tell anyone *shaking his head* What is the point of me when people go and do that?
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *glances over his shoulder* Are you even listening to me?
  • Baby Holmes: *watching TV in her baby seat*
  • Sherlock: *rolls his eyes* I'll make your mother some dinner. What do you think she'll fancy.
  • Baby Holmes: *squeals happily* Dick.
  • Sherlock: *pauses*
  • Sherlock: *blinks, looks at her* Excuse me?
  • Baby Holmes: *waving her hands enthusiastically* Mummy wan' dick...
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *approaches her, chuckles nervously* Yeeeees, I know. Better than anyone, darling.
  • Baby Holmes: *pointing at the tv* Dick, dick!
  • Sherlock: *looks at the TV*
  • -tv shows singing and dancing baby chickens-
  • Baby Holmes: Cute dickies!
  • Sherlock: *relieved* Chicks. Yes. Mummy does like them. Erm...c-can't keep them though. Not with Toby around.
  • Baby Holmes: *staring at him*
  • Sherlock: *embarrassed* Don't tell your mum.
anything you want - [smut]

word count: 2,104 👍

warning: smutty shit, oral (female on male), tiny weeny kink


The balcony door of Justin’s room was slightly ajar, leaving enough wind for the couple to embrace each other under the flurry blanket, hugging one another so tight that it would hurt to let go.

Long ago, on a winter night, they would most likely be baking cookies or watching a movie while making out once in a while.

Well, they weren’t watching anything; they were making out irresistibly, almost as if they couldn’t get enough of each other.

Two of her tanned legs were placed on each side of the boys waist as his arms were pulling her closer with each move of their lips against each other.

Selena, involuntarily, pulled away when she lost a breath for a moment. They had been so caught up in their moment that they forgot to catch a breath.

Just as he was going to plant another kiss on her mouth, the familiar buzz of the gates sounded throughout the whole house, including their bedroom.

A groan escaped his throat as he realised that the meaty pizza they had ordered had arrived. He had to let her go.

She giggled softly as he tried to plant a sloppy kiss on her mouth, “I have to go and get the pizza.”

“Pizza can wait.” He managed to get a small smooch on her chin, just below her mouth.

“Well I cant.” She smiles softly and manages to get out of his grasp. Feet on the floor, she begins making her way towards the door.

“Call me when you set up, yeah?” He says just before she walks out the door.

“Yeah.” He hears her soft voice fade downstairs.

Sighing, Justin lays down on his bed, his back finally getting a rest.

He closes his eyes and puffs a breath of air out of his lips.

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