some of this looks strangely familiar

You know, I’ve always been really confused about what the initial point of Rose Quartz’s were to Pink Diamond/Homeworld. Because, really, if the plan for earth was this:

then what is the point of having a gem who has the ability to create life the way Rose is shown to be able to do? And if every other Quartz type we see is built like a freaking body builder (with the exception of the gems from the Beta kindergarten we see in That Will Be All, but according to Peridot nearly all of the gems there “came out wrong” so…) and have weapons that can be used offensively:

then why have this single type of Quartz who looks soft and approachable and give them a shield as a weapon? Then this bomb came along and…I noticed a couple of things about that zoo. The first thing was these flowers on the door.

Five petalled flowers with what looks like the centre of Rose’s gem upside down in the middle. Does that look familiar? How about now.

These look startlingly similar to the flowers Rose grows on earth. On top of this, we have the room where Yellow and Blue Diamond discuss Pink Diamond’s death. When I watched this I couldn’t help but think it was strange that all of the Rose Quartz’s were here for some reason.

Like, if this room was Pink Diamond’s version of the temple, why are there no other gem types anywhere? Surely she didn’t only bubble Rose Quartz’s in her time alive. And if they were put here…in memory of Pink Diamond or something then someone would’ve had to take the time to move all of these bubble gems to this location.

Unless, they were already there.

Unless, the zoo is where Rose Quartz’s used to work.

The zoo is meant to be calming to humans. A place where they live a life of complacency and safety. Would it not make sense that the gems working there would be approachable to humans should they ever need to go into the enclosure? Would it not make sense that they would be able to grow new wildlife should something happen to the ecosystem in the enclosure? Rose Quartz’s would make the perfect guards for such a place.

At least until one of them decided she liked humans a little too much and didn’t want the planet they came from to be destroyed.

Submitted by @ lord-of-the-dark-realms 


So, I had this thought after reading several stories about humans giving birth and not having eggs.  What if aliens do not have ‘family units’ the same way humans do, but instead raise children in more of a group setting.


Captain H'roll'ah was excited to have hired on not just 1 but 3 humans, all of whom were extremely qualified for space travel.  Even better, they were all from the same clan and so there would be no rivalry or refusal to work together because of old scores to settle.

“Captain! Three humans just came in a have taken over the dining area! WHAT SHOULD WE DO?!?” Ensign Khralhen was out of breath and panicked, but his species was notoriously afraid of humans after it became public knowledge how dangerous they were.  Not that his own was much better, but H'roll'ah knew that these humans should be here and it was probably near a meal time for them.  How could such an evolutionary advanced and apated species not figure out a way to avoid needing 3 or meals a day was beyond H'roll'ah.

“It is fine, Ensign Khralhen.  These are likely the Humans that I just signed on to the crew.  They are from the same clan, so they should work at peak efficiency,” the Captain answered, trying to put as much calm and soothing into his voice as possible, “Let us go introduce ourselves and welcome them so that the ‘pack-bonding’ can begin.”


“Greetings, I am Captain H'roll'ah and this is Ensign Khralhen, our cook.”

“Nice ta meetcha! Cook, huh? Guess we best buddy up to you right quick then!” said the male.  He was average height for a human and perhaps a little on the heavy side, but H'roll'ah knew that it was likely muscle not fat.  After all, this human and one of his female companions were security personnel.

“Always thinking with you stomach, Thomas.  How about you buddy up to the Captain, so that we do not get kicked off this boat? Hmm?” said the smaller female, later identified as Samantha or “Sam” for ease.  "Small" being used only in comparison because she did not have the bulk of her clanmates.  She must be the medical officer.  H'roll'ah was worried that she would be distant from her clanmates but her body language suggested extreme comfort and trust, above what H'roll'ah felt for his own clanmates of different castes.  The third human, Laura if the captain remembered correctly, remained silent but was constantly looking around, as if expecting an attack at any moment, not that strange considering all that H'roll'ah had hear about Earth.

“Well then, please tell me what times that the three of you eat, and I will prepare food for you then.  Also, please tell me any dietary restrictions you have so that you do not have any medical incidents,” Khralhen said, realizing that the humans could be bribed with food as easily as a Con'valix could be bribed with fruits.


(3 Months Later)

Captain H'roll'ah was surprised at how well the humans worked together.  He thought that they might exceed standard human operating efficiency by 10%, but regularly they were 20-25% better than the reported average.  They barely needed to vocalize to communicate, and they were able to remember each other’s needs and the needs of the crew extremely well.  Captain H'roll'ah decided to ask them how they did it, and if it was a clan trait, where he could hire more humans of clan “Walker.”

“Thomas clan Walker, do you have a few minutes to talk about personal matters?” The captain asked, assuming that Thomas would, since he was off shift and relaxing in the lounge.

“Sure thing, hoss.  What can I do for you?  And I hope this isn’t about my or Laura’s tattoo’s, because we had to settle a bet on that a few days ago,” Thomas answered easily.  He was a bit flippant for the captain’s taste, but his results were impeccable and the other humans followed his lead, which spoke volumes for the man.  

“I was hoping that you could explain how you and your clanmates have achieved such a high efficiency rate.  You perform well above average, even for clanmates who grew up together.”

“Clanmates? Oh, that’s right! Sam mentioned that your species, and most species on this ship raise their young in a group setting and the kids hatch from eggs, right?”

“That is correct, and please do not remind me that human females carry their young in their bodies like a parasite.  The last time Sam explained that, it was enough to make all of us wonder how humans have managed to reproduce at all.” H'roll'ah still shuddered when he thought of it, and Khralhen wasn’t able to cook for 3 days after Sam had explained human reproduction.

“Fair enough, I think we reproduce more by accident that anything else, but yeah.  Me, Laura, and Sam are not clanmates like you think,” Thomas chuckled and shook his head, “We are siblings.”

“I do not know this word,” H'roll'ah answered uneasily.  In his experience, an unknown term from a human meant that something painful, gross, horrifying, or all 3 was about to be revealed.

“Sam could explain it better, and having Laura here only seems fair…” Thomas trailed off as he reached for his comm.  "Hey, brats (again with the casual disrespect), can you both get up to the lounge? Captain wants to know about siblings.“ H'roll'ah was always surprised that Thomas clan Walker could be disrespectful when asking for others to do something.

“Sure, be right up,” Sam responded.  She was likely a floor up in the medical facilities and wanted to take a break.

“Grrhhrhhgg.” Laura clan Walker had been sleeping, then, and did not want to come.

“Thanks, ladies, you can both explain family better than me.”  Now the captain was worried again because there was a second new word being bandied around.


“So, captain, a family unit for humans is very small compared to yours of Ensign Khralhen’s,” Sam explained, “A family is usually made up of the mother and/or father or a surrogate who has assumed that role and the children.  It usually numbers no more than 4-7 individuals.”

“But…But…how do you grow or develop? And to place all that burden on only one or two adults, how do they do anything else?” spluttered K'roll'ah.  He was shocked to find out that humans in the region called ‘America’ did not have an open community.

“Well, children who share 1 or both parents are called “siblings”, and they develop together.  The adults are called “parents”, and yeah, there is a definite loss of freedom involved.“

“So then, you three are…siblings?” H'roll'ah asked.

“Yes, Thomas is the oldest, and Laura is the youngest, with me in the middle,” answered Sam, “and our father bailed on us after Laura was 3 years old, so Tom became the ‘man of the house’ at 7 years old.”

THAT explained Thomas clan Walker’s attitude! Captain H'roll'ah realized that Thomas clan Walker had been in a command position and not had a commander from a young age!

“So that is why you both follow him? He is the new leader”

“Kind of, he is just the best at leading.  He knows what to do and does it well.” Laura answered, which was rare; she was the most quiet of the three.

“And the reason for your peak efficiency?” Captain H'roll'ah asked, determined to get an answer to his question.

“Well, we have known each other all our lives and spent most of those lives in close proximity to each other.  We just understand each other from the long familiarity and exposure.”

“Ah, the same way a pilot becomes better from being on the same ship, just with a person instead.”

“Exactly! And if you are interested in hiring others we are familiar with, we have some cousins, children of our parents’ siblings, who we know very well and want to get into space.”

“Then I will look them up, thank you for answering my questions." 

Humans were a strange species.  Instead of focusing on a large community, they developed close bonds with only a few people who share familial ties with them.  Captain H'roll'ah did hire the 'cousins’ and they worked out very well.  The human guidebook was updated to notify captains that humans sharing close blood ties have the potential to perform at higher than normal efficiency.  


Now somebody write a story about a captain hiring siblings who hate/cannot stand each other!

Growing Pains

Originally posted by harrysimpact

Hello, everyone! I’ve decided to start writing again. This will be a three-part series as of right now so I hope you enjoy the first installment. 

A special shout out to @hcrrystvles for editing this, I love you bb.

dad!harry + teacher!harry

warnings: mentions death, nostalgia, fluff. loads of fluff.

word count: 3,648

summary: the one where Harry’s a school teacher who finds himself teaching the daughter of his first love

Every day that students walked into room 202, they were instantly greeted by the sweet smell of cinnamon buns and vanilla (an air freshener Harry always kept plugged into the wall when he first started working there because it smelt too much like wood). Fairy lights hung above the perimeter of the room, pictures students have drawn covered the wall behind the metallic desk which was covered in magnets. The whole classroom just felt warm. Stepping into Mr. Styles’ year 3 classroom felt like a hug from a friend you haven’t seen in years. It was a safe space for both little ones and teachers alike, no one ever left the room without a bright smile on their face. That was Harry’s specialty.

Harry had taken his job as a teacher very seriously as he took it upon himself to teach the younger generations the most valuable lessons. Not multiplication and cursive writing like the other teachers would say, but things like positivity, acceptance, and kindness. Harry took pride in knowing that when each and every one of his students left his classroom at the end of the year, they carried his teachings with them for the rest of their lives.

Tonight was back to school night and Harry felt himself getting a little nervous as he looked at the time. Parents could be brutal and all he wanted was to be on their good side. He had a feeling this year was about to be little easier though. This year the parents of his students were most likely his age and it brought a strange sense of comfort to him. He could tell because the kids were a lot more open minded and though he wouldn’t admit it, he had a few favorites. Like Harper. The little girl made him feel nostalgic in the strangest way. Maybe it was because she was quite witty for a 7-year-old or that she had an interest in joining his after school choir, but it was something else about her that he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

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Kissing Chats is therapeutic

This is what resulted from a chat I had with @frostedpuffs and well, I’m very proud of it lol. It is kind of short tho.

Marinette was a wrecked ball of stress. It was so bad that people probably could smell stress on her while she passed by, if the dark circles under her eyes weren’t a dead giveaway. She had three tests, two presentations, the deadlines for four essays and a lot of commissions for her online clothes shop. And the cherry on top of her funeral cake was, of course, being Ladybug and saving Paris at any moment when an akuma appeared.

(Which happened a lot lately. Hawkmoth can choke.)

Although, Marinette probably won’t have a funeral cake, because, frankly, she didn’t even have time to die. But the real question here was if Marinette was using that time she had in the evening to do anything related to the before mentioned responsibilities?

Well… no.

Look, her plants had priority okay? Marinette can’t pull through stress crisis without her plants. So that’s how that fine evening found Marinette Dupain-Cheng on her balcony, making sure her hortensias were hydrated enough. She was humming a random tune, as she kept arranging her plants, trying to not think about the load of work she had. With a sigh, she glanced up at the skyline, hoping she to get a glint of inspiration for one that one-night dress that was lying between her commissions. As she looked in the distance, she noticed a dark figure jumping around the rooftops. Seems like Chat Noir was out and about. Marinette wondered if she should get some sweets from down in the bakery. That was how they got close after all. She was minding her own business, working on her sketched, when out of nowhere a cat fell on her because he was trying to steal her cookies. He received some swats over the head, but also some cookies, because Marinette has limits when it comes to how much she could resist begging kitty eyes. And well, what was said about feeding strays was very much true and Marinette was still amused that the biggest stray in Paris came to her out of all people.

“Good evening to you, ma princesse.” Marinette looked surprised as Chat landed on her balcony, making a courtly bow.

“Hey, Chat.” she greeted. “Did you come sniffing after some macarons or what?”

“As tempting as that sounds, I actually dropped by because I wanted to check on you. You seemed stressed.”

Marinette rose an eyebrow. “I seemed stressed from three blocks away?”

Chat rubbed the back of his head in a strangely familiar manner. “Call it a cat’s instinct.”

Marinette rolled her eyes fondly as Chat continued. “Anyway, I noticed you are stressed and luckily I know a wonderful type of therapy for this.”

Marinette glanced at him curiously. “You have my attention.”

Clearing his throat, he continued. “You see, this type of therapy is accessible to anyone, it is free, very good, wonderfully calming, utterly relaxing and prescribed by any doctor who cares about the well-being of their patients. In fact, there had been a scientific research, conducted by the Oxford University that came to the conclusion that this therapy was effective in 99,9% of the cases.”

“And what exactly is this therapy?”

“Kissing cats.”

Marinette sprayed Chat with her watering bottle, making him yowl and jump back a little. “Very funny, Chat.”

His ears dropped. “But I’m entirely serious!”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Of course you are.”

“Come on, princess! It will work wonders for you, you’ll see.”

Marinette sighed, before glancing at him. His ears were dropped and he was giving her those typical kitty eyes and Marinette wanted to hit herself over the head with something for being tempted by the offer. Honestly, if he wanted a kiss he could have just said so. Albeit, it would have been a kiss on the cheek, but still. Glancing aside, she considered her options. Well, she already kissed him once to get him out of mind control. No feelings there. Absolutely not. There couldn’t be anything happening from a peck on the lips for ‘lowering her stress levels’. Putting her spraying bottle aside, she turned to Chat.

“One kiss.” he declared, making him smile brightly.

“One dose of anti-stress coming your way, princess.”

Marinette opened her arms allowing Chat to bring her in a loose embrace. Tilting her head, Marinette closed her eyes as Chat bent his head and captured her lips.

Marinette found herself really enjoying kissing Chat. Maybe it was because there was no akuma involved this time. Maybe it was because his lips tasted like peaches. Or maybe it was just because Chat was a good kisser. Marinette let herself relax against him as they keept kissing. And then a gentle rumble filled Chat’s chest, making her smile against his lips. He was purring. And oddly enough it made her relax even more, her body going almost limp against Chat. It felt just simply wonderful. And when Chat finally pulled away, his purring stopping as well, Marinette let out an annoyed huff.

The little shit was smiling victoriously. “So princess, was I right or what?”

Marinette couldn’t even roll her eyes, because yes, he was right. She just nodded. “Not bad at all either.”

To her surprise and satisfaction, Chat blushed a little. “Well, er… I… only the best for the princess.”

As he gesticulated, Marinette caught a glimpse of green. Grabbing his hand, she brought it closer for inspection. She gasped. These weren’t always here, were they? She would have noticed. She poked them.

”You have beans!” she giggled then poked them again.

”A new design detail to my suit.” he explained, clearly amused by her actions. Taking advantage of the fact that her hands were on his, he grabbed the left one and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. “I’m glad I could help you, princess, but now I have to bid you adieu.”

”Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Marinette said, once she was pull editare out of the cute green beanies trance. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

And with that, Marinette pulled him by the tail, in her room.

Marinette created a very strong opinion about how therapy with cats should become a thing. She spent a couple of hours in Chat’s arms, his purring echoing soundly in the room as she worked. Honestly, she didn’t remember the last time when she had been so calm and relaxed. This was the only reason why she was cuddling Chat. Because it was calming and it was lowering her stress levels. There was no other reason. Honestly.

And with Chat’s purring and cuddles, she managed to finish two essays, four sketches for her commissions and the layout of her presentations. And with a peek on the lips for him, she went to bed (at a reasonable hour, for once), playing with his beans until she fell asleep.

Chats were truly therapeutic.

altean!lance/princess diaries/canon divergence au where lance is discovered to have altean genes after getting into a tiff with the druids

at first he’s a little shocked at the white/silver hair and sudden markings but he takes it surprisingly well and thinks it makes him look rather dashing not to mention it’s a great way to have something in common worth allura

but allura is way too excited because she and coran aren’t the only alteans in the universe anymore and maybe this means there might be others who’s genes are deeply buried like lance

she decides that she will give lance the title of prince (pidge: oh god he’s gonna be insufferable now) and train him as a diplomat when visiting would-be allies and what better way for the planets to trust team voltron if they see that not only are the alteans alive but one of them is a royal AND a paladin and just allura gets straight to work

at first lance loves it bc he gets personal attention from allura but the more they work together the more he starts to get bored and frustrated and slightly overwhelmed by all the etiquette lessons and history lessons and communication trainings all that on top of regular paladin training and lance starts to feel a cold sweat whenever he hears the princess call out his name

he does his best to hide somewhere in the castle away from bossy princesses and no nonsense captains who doesn’t think lance should cut back on combat practice and just breathe

and don’t get him wrong, learning to be diplomat is kind of fun because he’s learning and cultures he probably would have never even knew existed but the whole prince thing was staying to get to him

he starts to think what if he isn’t worthy of holding that title? he’s just a boy from cuba who just so happened to have an altean ancestor somewhere in his lineage and he starts to spiral from the stress

and that’s where Keith find him, in a dark corner of the castle, a grand room that looks like it hasn’t been used even before the altean war

he carefully sits down next to lance and lance doesn’t even care, he’s too busy moping

and Keith tries to joke around with him, get him out of his funk but lance ain’t having it, curls further into his little ball

Keith looks around, desperate to try to help bc well, the guy looks like he needs a break, even he can see lance was getting overworked. which is when he sees something vaguely familiar. a box with speaker like mechanisms set up beside it. he pushes a button and suddenly the lights turn on and strange, instrumental music starts to play

lance groans a little, already thinking of allura trying to show him altean dances and he sees himself messing up badly and having to practice for hours veggie allura was satisfied. he was exhausted just thinning about it.

keith rolled his eyes and held out his hand, telling him he’d show him some ballroom steps

lance really wants to ask but decides not to look a gift in the horse’s mouth and let him be led

keith tells him to relax and not to look down at his feet since it’s considered rude, lance blushes and tells him fine but don’t get mad if keiths feet turn black and blue in the morning

they’re forced to look into each others eyes and just….try to keep their racing hearts quiet which is why keith asks leave why he thinks he’d be bad at dancing

lance shrugs and his gaze tapers off to the side, which keith totally regrets now, and tells him honestly he feels like he’s done nothing but mess up in all of the prince lessons and nothing seems to make princess allura happy and he can’t help but think maybe he shouldn’t take this title after all. just because he’s part altean, doesn’t mean he can be a prince

and that’s when keith stops moving and forces lance to look at him and say “listen. you’re right, sometimes you mess up but you always give it 110% and when you focus you can become an expert at anything. you’re great at making people trust you because of your own trusting nature. you keep calm in difficult situations and would never leave a fellow team mate behind. you’re a quick thinker, adaptable, charming. lance, you’re not a prince because you’re part altean. you’re a prince because….you’re lance.”

and then lance kisses him and they tell allura to stop trying to be so formal and perfect and try creating new traditions and keith becomes the first part galra prince since he marries prince lance and they live happily ever after the end

siriustblack  asked:

57 + andreil?

from this list of prompts - please don’t send more!

The first time Neil meets Andrew, there isn’t any intention behind it. Or rather, there’s no intent to go out and meet new people. Neil doesn’t intend to catch someone’s eye and share a joke from across a room. And he definitely doesn’t intend to be rescued from his own drunk self by the same stranger.

Matt seems kind of alarmed to see Neil with a stranger - probably because Neil openly resisted getting to know Matt, the least threatening person in the world, probably, and now he’s in a decidedly angry-looking stranger’s lap on a curb. “Neil, I left you alone for five minutes, how did you make everything go wrong in that time?”

Neil doesn’t groan. He doesn’t. “Bad luck follows me?”

The blonde guy doesn’t laugh. Neil’s not sure he said anything. Neil really doesn’t know why he’s the one to follow Neil out of the bar when the world started spinning.

Matt laughs, a little. “Not entirely unlucky. You’ve made a friend?” Neil’s sure he’s sizing the other guy up, making sure he has no untoward intentions with Neil, but he doesn’t see it. All he sees is cement and surprisingly nice shoes (not his own). 

“Andrew,” the guy offers, not unkindly. In fact, there’s not much of anything in his tone.

“Right,” Matt says, sounding somehow unsure. “Well, thanks for helping Neil. He’s kind of a danger magnet. I should, uh, get him back home.” Matt’s voice is hesitant, and even through the fog in Neil’s mind, he knows why.

“It’s Dan’s night,” he protests weakly. “Go back in. I’m fine.”

“Neil,” Matt says, and his voice is as hard as it always gets when Neil lies. “You freak out when I pat your shoulder and you’re in this guy’s lap. Can you even stand up? Don’t- don’t try it, man.”

Neil tries it. The world shakes, and he ends up back in Andrew’s lap, with only the addition of a hand on his back that might be for stability or maybe just for ease. Andrew seems nonplussed by all of these events. Any other time, Neil would be full of questions for Andrew. Any less drunk, and he’d ask them. Maybe it’s good you met this way, some self-preservation instinct suggests, but Neil isn’t sure this state is good for anything.

“Dan won’t mind,” Matt says, and Neil knows he’s right. “It’s part of parenthood, eh?”

So Matt starts to pull Neil up, and wraps an arm securely around his waist despite the height difference. 

Neil was never really taught manners, but something sticks out anyway. He looks at Andrew with all the focus he can muster, trying to commit his face to memory, and says, “Thank you,” carefully. Andrew doesn’t respond, or maybe Neil just doesn’t notice, and then he’s gone.

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Truth (Jonerys Fanfiction)

Summary: Jon learns the truth, and Daenerys comforts him.

This was a joy to write


Home, the smell of snow landing on forest greenery. The smell of animals running through the ferns and trees of the forests surrounding Winterfell. Winter. It was finally here and Jon felt like he could breath again. He didn’t like the south; it smelt funny and it was too warm. Though Jon never removed his winter furs; he didn’t show weakness to the Lannister Queen. But now; laying in the old chambers he had while growing up a bastard of Winterfell; chambers he was sharing with Dany, he felt at peace. 

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Remus Lupin x Reader

Prompt: “I said you couldn’t fall in love with me, but I didn’t say I couldn’t fall in love with you.”

Originally posted by nellaey

Y/N runs her hand over the clothes hanging neatly in her closet. Nothing seems right for the occasion - a date (dare she call it that?) with her best friend. “Lils, I need your help,” she shouts, and the girl immediately materializes at her side.

“You’re overthinking this. He’ll like you in anything. Even if it’s nothing. Especially if it’s noth-” Y/N scoffs at that and pushes a laughing Lily away, finally grabbing something to wear.

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His Name

The whole time they were talking, Lance could tell his mind was some place else. Some place more important than whatever nonsense made its way out of his mouth. His mind was probably off in Hawaii, next to the resort pool, drinking cocktails and martinis with some other lover. 

Some lover that wasn’t Lance. Lance knew Shiro had been unfaithful, with his heart set on things- people- it shouldn’t be. Lance knew, knew Shiro never worked late, knew Shiro didn’t need to go for business trips that often. Most of all, he knew he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough to keep Shiro’s head on straight, to keep him looking into Lance’s eyes instead of down another man’s driveway.

But, he loved Shiro. He wouldn’t just give up. Maybe- just maybe- if Lance managed to get back Shiro’s interest they could go back to normal, how it was before Shiro came into promiscuity.

“So then-” Lance blabbered, trying to keep Shiro’s interest when suddenly Shiro’s phone buzzed, an incoming call. Shiro looked at the caller i.d. and looked apologetically at Lance before leaving the room to take the call.

It was then, as Shiro turned his back on Lance, that he realised. Things would never go back to normal, love had been drained, connection was gone. Their love was dying and Lance could do nothing but watched as it fizzled to a cold, hard stop. Fueled by nothing other than Lance’s want. A want that was slowly dying too. 

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Tom Riddle was proud to say that he had never gotten a mark below Outstanding.


Excluding Dumbledore’s classes but those didn’t count.

But never, throughout his entire time at Hogwarts, had he had detention!

Until his new DADA professor walked into the classroom, that is.

Professor Potter was, in no way, unqualified for the job. Quite the contrary, really.

But Merlin did that git know how to get on Tom’s nerves.

“Mr. Riddle”

“Yes, Sir?”

“I think you forgot a spot on the bottom right of the third cauldron. Please make sure to clean it up later.”

Sweet Salazar, he thought he had wanted to kill his father, but that was nothing compared to how he felt right now.

“…Yes… Sir…” he ground out between clenched teeth and continued scrubbing the dirty cauldron like a muggle.

“Oh, and Tom?”

Dear Moragana, he was gonna snap any moment now.

“Yes, sir?” He replied sweetly, looking up from his work just in time to witness Professor Potter putting his feet up on the table with an innocent smile on his face and an amused twinkle in his eyes.

Asshole. He’d just cleaned that desk ten minutes ago.

“You asked me if I have seen a black notebook anywhere.”

Oh great Merlin, he can’t be-

Professor Potter pulled a familiar diary from his pocket. But… but it wasn’t black anymore.

It was pink!

Tom felt like throwing up.

His teacher chuckled not-so-apologetically. “I’m afraid I accidentally spilled some strange potion over it…”

That’s it!

Consequences be damned, he was gonna sic the bloody basilisk on that bastard!

- Tomarry [Time Travel]

After Camp Campbell: Prompt

Basketball never was one of Max’s favorite sports. All the running was tiring and he was always too short to make a basket without help, but here he was now, as his first middle school basketball game.

“Max, hurry up! The game is about to start!” The coach called, causing Max to roll his eyes up to the heavens and then back down.

He didn’t want to be here. As a matter of fact, he’d rather be back at Camp Campbell with Gwen and David, and all of his friends. At least there he could swear at the people who were pissing him off.

But his parents didn’t want to bother with him still. So they signed him up for the first school club that had an opening and dropped him off by himself once again. They didn’t care to go to these stupid games just like how they didn’t care to go to see his camp or anywhere else they sent him.

‘I miss camp.“

"But summers over, Max.” He told himself as he pulled his jersey on. You can go back in 9 months.“

With a finale sigh, he slammed his locker door shut. Then opened it and slammed it again, and again, and again. Anything to let off some steam before he started this stupid game, playing with stupid people, while their stupid parents watched.

"Hey, Max?” That teammate (Max thought his name might be Joe, or Tim, something like that.) narrowly avoided Max’s misplaced rage, as a final locker slam was enough to drive most of it from him.

“What do you want, dork?” Max snapped, shuffling over to the locker-rooms bench to retie his shoes.

“T-there’s some weird guy in the bleachers looking for you- I think he might be your dad?” The boy explained.

“My dad? He’s at work tonight.” A thin eyebrow shot up in confusion.

“Skinny guy? Brown hair?” No way. It couldn’t be. “He kinda has a high pitched voice when people hit him?”

“Holy shit, that’s David!” Max exclaimed, pulling himself off of the bench and running as fast as he could out of the room.

He ran passed his couch, his stupid teammates, and right across the gym floor to find his team bleachers. He was going so fast, he didn’t realize he hadn’t finished tying his shoes-


Embarrassment and pain shot through his elbows and knees as he hit the floor, but he tried to brush it off long enough to look up and scan the crowd for David, but his hopes fell when he couldn’t pick the man out of the crowd.

“Must’ve been some other Max'a dad…” He concluded, wanting nothing more but to sink into the floor at that moment.

“Guess so, buddy!” A voice came from above him, lifting him off of the ground.

Max whipped around and looked up to find David himself standing over him. He looked a little strange out of his camp uniform, without camp behind him, but the rest of him had the same familiar comfort.

“David!? What are you doing here!? This place is almost an hour from cam-” Max started, but stopped when he spotted yet another familiar face over by the popcorn stand. “Gwen is here too!?”

“We don’t stay at camp all winter, Max.” David laughed. “Gwen and I live in the city when camp is out of season-”

“But what are you two doing here!?” The younger male exclaimed, his eyes widening.

“Isn’t it obvious? We came to watch your game! And we’re planning to come to all of them if we can get a schedule-” The man was stopped by a little pair of arms nearly crushing his windpipe for a second.

“Thanks, David.”

A Precursor to Trust

Sanada Nobuyuki/MC Fic
Rated Teen for suggestive themes, mild food play and general yandere-ness.
A oneshot of a character study of the latent yandere that is Sanada Nobuyuki.

I love Nobuyuki’s  first ES. The drinking bit was problematic, to say the least but for me, it was mitigated because the way his MC is written. I love her, she impresses me and therefore, you can say that this little fic here is mostly focusing on her and the dynamics between her and the manipulative lord she ended up marrying. I’m mixing up some elements from Shigezane/Nobuyuki’s ES. This will be dialogue heavy. Oh, and Nobuyuki is an unrepentant manipulative bastard here, hahaha. 

tagging @kitty-kat-ty , @otomehideout-indecentconfessions , @dreamfar628, @hajeema , @mrszala , @ihavetoomuchinterests , @lomololita , enjoy darlings! 

“I remember… it was just like this… that night,” she mumbled, pressing her face to his chest. “But I remember nothing else.”

Of course, she would not.

Their kiss then had started tentatively, with him taking advantage of catching a drop of amazake spilling out the corner of her mouth. Their kiss then was sweet with alcohol instead of fresh fruit.

Their kiss then had ended chastely with her falling asleep.

But he had made it appear like so much more. He had made it into a leverage to blackmail her into becoming his bride. He had claimed to have planted his seed in her. Then he had claimed her hand and her mother’s blessing.

“I took advantage of you.” I truly did.

“We’re drunk…” she mumbled into his chest.

“Yes, we were.” No, you were. I made you.

“Maybe, I took advantage of you…”

He chuckled. Because she had not.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” she looked at him, her eyes began to glaze with tears. “That’s what they’ve been saying.”


His smile vanished. “Who told you that?”

She buried her face on his chest, refusing to say.

He enveloped her in his arms, and gently rocked her, soothing her.

“You shouldn’t listen to the servant’s idle chatter.” He would find these gossip-mongers and have them flogged and exiled.

“But.. But, Milord. Don’t you see? I could very well have done that. I could not remember a thing!” she sobbed. “A-and of course they would think of me so…I am a commoner weaseling my way to your bed and here I am named as your would-be wife like it was nothing! You don’t even know if I have your child inside of me.”

No. He did know. She could not have had his child inside her belly. Because he had never planted his seed in her.


He planned to remedy that. And soon.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

13 and 15 with Suga

Boy Next Door (Yoongi x Reader Fluff)

Prompt request: “Are you hurt?” + “Is there a reason you’re crawling through my window?”

Summary: Your new neighbour is developing a habit of crawling through your bedroom window when he’s bored. You know you should stop him, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. 

Word count: 1.6k words

Originally posted by dreamyoongi

You were excited when you’re parents told you a new family was moving next door. You were even more excited when you heard a boy who was your age would be your neighbour. In the middle of summer with nothing to do, you couldn’t help but fantasize about the perfect boy next door. It was every teenager’s dream, wasn’t it?

One early Friday morning, you were roused by loud noises coming from outside. Drowsily, you stumbled to your feet and peered out your bedroom window. It was pointless, of course, because the houses on your street were too close together, so all you could see was the vacant house’s bedroom window.

Only, the house wasn’t so vacant anymore.

A boy was standing in front of the window, brushing his teeth while looking half asleep. From what you could see, he had dark hair, pale skin, and some really nice hands. Then, his sharp eyes flicked to yours, and you soon discovered that your neighbour’s gaze was piercing.

Squeaking, you dropped to the ground–out of sight. You felt your cheeks heating up, totally embarrassed that you had been caught spying. Repressing the urge to scream, you crawled out of your bedroom and into the hall, where the noises from outside grew louder.

Now, you knew it was because your new neighbours were finally moving in. And you also knew that the boy next door was as cute as you had hoped. But of course he had to see you rumpled with sleep and invading his privacy.

Shaking your head, you got back to your feet and thudded down the stairs. In the kitchen, your mom was sipping a cup of coffee as she peered out the window, evidently spying on your new neighbours as well.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were moving in today?” you whined, throwing yourself onto a kitchen chair and slumping over the small table in front of you.

“I didn’t want to wake you up so early,” your mom replied, turning around to look at you. “Why, did something happen?”

“The boy is in the bedroom across mine,” you explained hesitantly. “He may or may not have seen me spying.”

“I heard his name’s Yoongi. He’s pretty cute, no?” your mom cackled. “Let’s just hope he finds the spying endearing, not creepy.”

Later in the afternoon, the August heat became unbearable. In your small room, there was little ventilation, so you were sweating buckets. Pushing away from your desk, you walked across the room to the window. You hoped your neighbour wouldn’t be able to see you. With a grunt, you pulled the large window open, feeling a gentle breeze billow through the opening. It wasn’t much, but it made the heat a little less painful.

Returning to your desk, you became so engrossed in watching anime that you didn’t process the sound of the window across yours clicking open. You didn’t hear the sound of someone struggling to stand on their window frame. You didn’t hear the sound of them leaping through the air.

But you did hear the loud crash of something colliding with your bedroom floor.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, spinning around in your chair. In front of you, Yoongi was sprawled on your hardwood floors, facedown and unmoving. “Uh, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Yoongi grunted, his voice muffled since he had yet to lift his head. Eventually, he pushed himself upright, opting to sit cross-legged facing you. When he didn’t elaborate on the situation, you crossed your arms.

“Is there a reason you’re crawling through my window?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t call it crawling, it was more of a leap,” Yoongi replied, not answering your question. “For a second, I thought I wouldn’t make it. Luckily the drop isn’t that big.”

“You shouldn’t be jumping through windows. That’s dangerous,” you scolded. “But still, that doesn’t explain anything.”

“I’m just bored,” Yoongi said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve been unpacking for hours, and I need a break. Our WiFi isn’t set up yet either, so that really sucks.”

You nodded at that, feeling a little sympathy for Yoongi’s situation. “You could have just knocked on the door like a normal person,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but this was faster. Plus, I’m already here,” Yoongi responded. He jerked his head in the direction of your laptop. “What are you watching?”

“One Punch Man,” you answered slowly, a little embarrassed. But Yoongi’s lips twitched into a little smile, and you thought it was adorable.

“Sweet,” he said, turning to look at the laptop expectantly. “I’m Yoongi, by the way. You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yep, that’s me,” you replied. You picked up your laptop and sat on the floor beside Yoongi, setting the laptop in front of your crossed legs. “I just finished this episode.”

So you and Yoongi spent the rest of the afternoon watching One Punch Man on your laptop. It was a really odd situation, but it was surprisingly comfortable. Little conversations popped up here and there, and you took a surprising liking to your new neighbour. And luckily, he didn’t bring up the spying incident from earlier that day.

Eventually, when dinnertime came, Yoongi announced his departure and disappeared through the window he entered by. You peered after him curiously, but he had already faded into the darkness of his bedroom, completely out of sight. Smiling, you turned away from the window. You figured you should close it, but something compelled you to keep it open.

The next evening, while you were blasting music through your speakers, Yoongi came tumbling through your window again. You shrieked, dropping the nail polish you were holding onto your floor. Cursing, you reached blindly for some tissues to wipe up the spilled liquid.

Yoongi watched you clean expressionlessly, although you couldn’t help but feel his blank gaze was judgemental.

“This stuff is expensive, okay? Plus it stains,” you said defensively, tossing the crumpled tissues covered in black nail polish into the garbage. “Give me some warning next time.”

“What, am I supposed to yell through the window?” Yoongi snorted. “I feel like that wouldn’t make much of a difference.”

“I dunno, just text me or something,” you suggested. Yoongi raised his eyebrow at you, and you stared at him blankly before you realized you hadn’t exchanged numbers yet. “Oh, give me your phone. I’ll put in my number.”

“I left it inside,” Yoongi shrugged.

“Ugh, whatever,” you groaned. You plopped onto your bed and looked at Yoongi suspiciously. “So, why are you here?”

“Bored,” Yoongi replied simply. “Plus, you’re blasting some pretty shit music. I had to come turn it off.”

“Excuse me?” you balk. You pointed a finger at Yoongi. “You trespass into my room and then insult my music? Who do you think you are?”

“I’m just telling you the truth,” Yoongi smirked. You wanted to punch him in the face, but you also wanted to kiss him because damn that was hot. Wait, kiss?

Yoongi got to his feet and walked over to your laptop, sitting on your desk chair. “Let me show you some real music,” Yoongi said, typing something into your computer. Eventually, a new song started playing.

It was just a drum beat at first, but soon powerful rapping began to play. It was fast, and the rapper had a raspy, emotive voice. And their voice sounded strangely familiar.

“Wait, is this your mixtape?” you asked, your jaw dropping.

“And if it is?” Yoongi said, spinning in the chair to give you a look.

“What a shameless plug!” you exclaimed, clutching your stomach as you laughed. Yoongi gave you an offended look, and you brushed tears out of your eyes. “But this is really good. I didn’t know you rapped. That’s so cool.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi said, glancing away. You weren’t sure, but it looked like he was blushing. “But you have no taste in music, so it doesn’t mean much.”

“Hey!” you shouted, launching a pillow at Yoongi’s head. It bounced off rather harmlessly, but the look Yoongi gave you was murderous. He stood and approached you silently, and you backed up instinctively.

Then, Yoongi’s hands shot out, grabbing your waist and squeezing. You burst into laughter, trying to wiggle away, but Yoongi only tickled you harder. Tears streamed down your face as you laughed silently, your stomach clenching.

“I’m gonna pee,” you wheezed out, trying to push Yoongi’s hands away.

He made a face at that and backed off quickly. “That’s gross,” Yoongi said, his nose crinkling.

“It’s natural,” you sniffed. “You’re lucky I didn’t. That’s what you get if you tickle me.”

“Duly noted,” Yoongi laughed. He glanced out your window at the darkening sky. “I should get back now. I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, feeling more fond than you thought was appropriate. “See you soon.”

With that, Yoongi jumped onto your window frame, crouching precariously between your room and a two-storey fall. Then, with confidence, he pushed himself forward, leaping through the air and through his window. Yoongi crashed to the ground of his own bedroom, his muttered curses travelling through the quiet night.

You felt a bit lonely, even though he had just left. But at least you had tomorrow to look forward to. Grinning, you turned back to your computer and flopped onto the chair. You realized Yoongi had still left his mixtape up. Turning the volume on your speakers way down, you played his music, realizing that you may be developing a little crush.

Oh well.

- Girl in Luv

Ok so I was going to write I Got You On My Mind tonight, but I don’t have the time nor the energy for 2k+ part right now. I know I suck, but I want to be able to put out good content and sometimes I just can’t force a story. Plus, this one looked like a lot of fun, which it was. So I’m sorry for everyone who’s waiting, and I promise it’ll be out soon! I hope you enjoyed this imagine, stay tuned for more 💛

This popped into my head and now it’s out there.

When Castiel finally dies it’s warm.
He doesn’t go to heaven or hell, not even does he land in purgatory. God finally has mercy with the worn out soldier with too much heart.

So Castiel wakes up in Sweden, heavy blankets keep him warm as the sun slowly rises and swallows the darkness. Three cats sleep at his feet and purr, he reaches out for them and a tiny white one meows as she bumps her nose against his fingers.

Cas’ feet hit the ground but instead of something cold there’s a comfy and fluffy carpet in soft green. Another cat appears in front of him, he seems to magically attract them somehow but he wouldn’t dare to complain.

The tiny white cat hops off his bed and follows him into the kitchen, where he presses the button on his coffee machine and looks out of the window. It’s framed by short curtains already a bit faded by the sun, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He pours the coffee into a bright yellow mug and steps outside, flowers and vegetables and apple trees greet him in the bright morning sun. There are even some bees buzzing around his head, seemingly happy to see Castiel.

When he finishes his coffee he pulls on a light jacket that makes him wonder if it wasn’t a trenchcoat the day before. The white cat, whose name - Cas remembers now - is Amelia, follows him again around the house and even outdoors when Castiel leaves through the front door.

There’s a path down the hill he stands on and he follows the poppies and daisies until he finds himself in the middle of a small farmer’s market. He’s not surprised when people greet him, smile at him and wish him a wonderful day – it feels like the most normal thing.

A redheaded girl hugs him and then bends down to pet Amelia, telling him to look out for the schoolkids who sell self-made bracelets today ( of course Cas buys two of them, one with yellow beads and one with green ones ).

He smiles and buys some vegetables and fresh fruit, a teenage girl who looks rather rebellious gives him one of her flowers but refuses to let him pay her.

It feels right to be here, of course Castiel has no clue he’s dead, he feels way more alive than ever and from now on it will always be that way. Some faces and voices feel strangely familiar but he doesn’t think about it too much.

Just when he was about to head home someone calls his name and grabs him by the shoulder.

“Hey Cas, I got the pie crust you asked for on Monday, did’ya forget? Also you totally have to taste the fresh pizza rolls I made, they’re freaking majestic.”

Castiel blinks once. Twice.
The green eyed man in front of him smiles widely and nods in the direction of a small place a little off, where another very tall man waves at him.

He waits one more second and watches Amelia, who meows and bumps her head against the man’s leg over and over again until she gets picked up.

“Cas, you comin’?”

He smiles.
“Always, Dean.”

Pleasurable Pain (Lucifer x Reader)

A/N: Hello Reader-chans! As promised, here is my Luci x Reader smut! Criticism is helpful and welcomed! Also, notes, reposts, and your comments give me life! Anyway, hope you enjoy!~

Rating: M

Word Count: 5,387

Warnings: smut! mentions of a car crash, oral (female recieving), light!dom!Lucifer, virgin!reader (because why not).

Originally posted by magnificent-winged-beast

“Pants, moans, and a series of occasional groans echoed throughout the room, covering up the sound of skin slapping upon skin. He had set out a hard pace, driving you absolutely insane. His grip on your hips was tight and painful, liable to leave bruises of his hands for days to come. Slowly, he pressed your chest into his, dropping his face into the hollow of your neck. You let out a tiny gasp at the feel of his stubble against your clavicle, moving your hands up to card your fingers through his hair. In response, he breathily moaned against your neck and scraped his teeth along the top of your shoulder, slowly biting down and adding pressure. He thrusts became more brutal at that, soft growls making themselves more audible. Your small gasps and mewls became louder and you gripped his hair tighter, pulling on it. You were too much in a bliss to worry about ripping the strands from his head. And then you felt it coming. Your first real orgasm. The coil you felt in your belly only got tighter and tighter as you became louder. He let out a guttural groan at your tugging, his grip becoming impossibly tighter-”

You awoke in a cold sweat for the seventh day in a row, panting. The wetness dripping out from your beyond soaked panties reminded you that you’ve yet again had that dream. Letting out an unsatisfied and frustrated sigh, you lifted yourself out of your own sweat-soaked sheets, walking/waddling over to the bathroom in your room with a new pair of underwear and a clean towel. As you cleaned and dried yourself off, your mind wandered back to the recurring dream. Or nightmare. You weren’t sure yet. You didn’t even know who was the male within it. It was mostly a blur with many intense new feelings. But you were completely sure it was just hormones. After you threw yourself into the hunting life at the age of 14, you’d left everyone you had ever known and never really…popped the cherry. You were now the age of 22 and it just wasn’t really much of a concern to you as was killing all the abominations that poisoned the world.

You slipped on the clean undergarment, sighing in relief. They were boring old white panties. You didn’t see a problem since there was no one to impress. Your wardrobe mainly consisted of the white underwear with the acceptance of one set of lingerie. Beside that, it was loose fitting shirts and pants, flannels and one black tank top with a pair of overly sized sweatpants. Basically, anything that wasn’t too tight fitting so you could still be your agile self in them. You hated feeling constrained. It just wasn’t you.

Yawning, you checked the time. 12:05 A.M. Pretty sure the Winchesters wouldn’t appreciate you barging in their precious bunker with an equally shitty excuse. Ah, Sam and Dean Winchester. You had met the boys alongside a hunt against a Djinn and they were less than pleased when you managed to get yourself captured. There, you met their angel Castiel. He was quite the interesting individual. Also living proof that angels and demons existed. Hooray.

They rescued you and brought you to their bunker, helping you regain your health. You didn’t wish to be touched by the angel and they weren’t going to bring you to a hospital. So there at the bunker, you had figured out that you absolutely sucked at socializing. There was at least a stutter to every sentence you spoke and a blush as red as cherries that filled your entire face, including your ears. You were an embarrassment to yourself. You could just picture Dean’s shit-eating grin. He thought it was funny you couldn’t  communicate around them all. Narcissistic bastard. Sam was better at it though, giving you a sympathetic smile and patience. Castiel only tilted his head and furrowed his brow, as if he was trying to figure out what was wrong with you. Even you didn’t know. As you resided there, they told you some interesting stories, like how their dad introduced them to hunting and how they met Castiel. Then there was the stories of Lucifer. Those always caught your attention.

The way they described him captivated your interest. Maybe it was because Satan was real and it horrified you. Or maybe it was  because in some ways, you understood him. Cast out by your father, called nasty names by people. You listened to the brothers’ painful struggle with the Devil, mentally taking notes on his character and influence. Strangely though, the way they described his actions flickered a sense of vague familiarity. Although you really did feel bad for Sam, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was like in person. What did he look like? Er- his vessel anyways. You were still new to the whole “angel-human vessel” thing. You suppose the stories were supposed to intimidate and terrify you, but they only made you curious. And your curiosity always lead you into trouble.


That was two weeks ago. Today is just another lonely day. You were packing your bags, getting ready to leave. You’d finally concluded your hunt against the werewolves down in Topeka, Kansas. You checked the clock again. It’s 5:34 P.M. It would take you roughly two hours and fifty-five minutes to drive to the Winchesters’ location in Lebanon, Kansas. Deciding it’d be nice to go check in with them, you threw your shit into the trunk of your truck and got in, making a quick pit stop to grab some snacks for the road. Afterwards, you were off to Lebanon.


You were having trouble staying awake. ‘C’mon Y/N, just a few more minutes.’ You had tried not to sleep as much during the weeks for fear of the dream coming back to you. It had worked, but now you were having trouble staying awake when you needed to most. Your fingers loosened on the steering wheel as you slowly nod off yet again. Sleep was calling to you…and you were slowly answering to its call.

‘…Y/N…’ A voice sang.

You struggled to keep your eyes open.

‘…Y/N…come to me…’ It said again in that tune. It lured you…like bugs to a light. The honking of a horn sounded from a distance.

You jolted with a gasp, seeing the lights of the vehicle a second too late. You swerved your car to the side, screaming internally. You managed to spin off the road, the right frontside of your car hitting a tree, which sent you flying. You couldn’t scream. Only watch with wide eyes as you and your car came closer and closer to the ground. As soon as you made contact with it, your life flashed before your eyes. First hunt…first kill…first injury. You felt your head hitting all over and your body jolting around as your seatbelt clung to you. The airbag in your steering wheel came to life like a punch to the face, knocking your head back. Your first legal gun…first FBI badge. Your car barrel rolled deeper into the forest until it hit a tree, stopping your jostling.

Your vision was dizzying and your pain was extreme. You were disoriented, fumbling for your seatbelt. A pain became evident in your head. You groaned, black spots adorning your already failing vision. Slowly, your movements lessened, your body becoming limp as the blackness took over, rendering you unconscious.


You woke up with a gasp, sitting up completely straight. Panicking, you look around. You were in a room, laid on a bed…wait a minute. You were just in a car crash…where the hell were you?! This wasn’t the bunker as the layout and style of the room were so different. Besides that, the brothers didn’t know you were coming. You slowly got up, investigating the detail of the apartment. It was way fancier than the typical shit hole apartments you stayed in. It was clean, no sign of mold, insects or deteriorating of any furniture or wood. You silently crept around, searching for the door. You needed to get out of here. You realized then you were in perfect shape as well. You could’ve sworn you broke a couple things back there. Your heart rate increases, nervous energy beginning to swarm you. You’ve been kidnapped. If so…then where was the kidnapper-

“Oh. Isn’t this a surprise? I didn’t expect you to be awake for ehhh…say a few more hours. But humans. Ever the stupidly stubborn ones. Especially you hunters.” A male voice echoed throughout the room. He sounded impressed. Or annoyed. Maybe both?

Squeaking in surprise, your vision flied about, trying to find the source of the voice. Strangely though, the speaker sounded vaguely familiar…

You felt a hand grab your shoulder. A particularly cold hand at that.

“Caught you.” The voice said. You could feel the smirk upon your captor’s face. Slowly, you raised your head, to come face to face with a…chest. You slowly raised your head higher, heartbeat thudding against your ribcage. Finally, you caught the face of a man. He was smiling…and wasn’t too hard on the eyes. He had his light tan hair spiked up in no particular direction. Beautiful ice blue eyes…No. You shake your head. ‘Now’s not the time Y/N damn.’

“Hiya there.” The man greets, the smile unfading and the hand on your shoulder not leaving. With every word he spoke, that sense of vague familiarity continued to radiate in your mind. Coming back to your senses, you immediately uppercutted the guy, stepping away from him and running to where you assumed the exit was. You need get out of there, call the Winchesters for help- you quickly skid to a stop. Needless to say, there was only one thing blocking your way from the exit.

The man chuckles, rubbing his unshaven chin and jaw. Blood coated his teeth. “Heh…you’ve got a hell of a swing Y/N.” His eyes glow red for a second and the blood disappears. Your eyes widen at the mention of your name. You didn’t give him your name. Also his eyes…they glowed red. Wait…no…he couldn’t possibly be. You could’ve sworn the brothers said they locked him back away. He smiles again, stepping towards you slowly, arms waving about. You back up at his pace, heart beating unbelievably fast and a blush rising quickly on your face. His smile widens and his index finger points at you, steps unfaltering. “You have an idea to who I am…don’t you?” You swallow. One person came to mind. “Y-You’re Lucifer, aren’t you?” You stuttered, continuing to step away from him.

An arrogant smile makes way onto his face, arms opening up in acknowledgement and his chest seemingly puffing in pride. “In the flesh.” It was then your back hit a wall. Your eyes widen and your breathing increases, blush darkening. It was then his steps stop as well. He was only a few feet in front of you, predatory smile set on his face and his arms now crossed comfortably at his sides. He had you trapped. With no one in knowledge of where you were. ‘Fuck.’ “Now,” His eyes flicker elsewhere and his fingertips connect together as his body faces yours. There was no escape. “Let’s try this again. I am, in fact, Lucifer. Otherwise known as an Archangel, Satan, the Devil, King of-” “I don’t care.” You quickly interrupt, surprising even yourself. His cold, ice blue eyes, which had previously wandered to a place somewhere on another wall, snapped back your terrified ones. His smile drops for a second. You gulp.

Lucifer’s eyes narrow and his mouth slowly turns up in a warning smile. “Excuse me?” His tone was threatening, making your heart rate skyrocket. The atmosphere dramatically shifts from playful to dangerous, the reality of the situation finally dawning on you. You’re in the same room with Lucifer, the actual Devil, who’s standing not a few feet away from you with a predatory look in his eyes. Oh and he could kill you with the simple snap of his fingers. You press yourself into the wall, eyes betraying you. “I-I’m sorry! P-please don’t k-kill me-” A snort breaks its way through the tension after you manage to stutter a sentence. You look at Lucifer, who was chuckling at you. He thought your fear was funny. “And you’re supposedly a hunter…” He begins to move again, walking slowly to the right of you, an index finger pressed on his smiling lips. His eyes bore into yours, as if he’s looking straight into your soul. Like every romantic story cliche. Expect this situation was far from romantic. Try terrifying. His eyes then proceed to drag over your body, examining you.

“Now then…I’m not going to…peel the muscle off your bone and nail it to my wall…no…that’s not why I’ve brought you here,” He says, eyes annoyingly staying glued to your shaking hips. “Although you have quite the mouth on you,” He raises his eyebrows, eyes flicking back up to yours, nothing but sexual intent in them. He rubs his bottom lip with his finger and stops walking. You noticed his smile was gone too. “I’ve brought you here because…well…” He was suddenly inches away from you, chiseled features right in your face. You flinch. He continues to stare you down, no more playful nature in his being. “I keep getting visions of you,” His hands slam into the wall next you your head, his arms both caging you in and scaring you. “ And I have no idea how or why but they’re really affecting my plans- scratch that. Greatly affecting them.” You stare up into his eyes, calming a bit as you realize he had no intent to kill you. He really was a beautiful creature…that you couldn’t deny it even if it was wrong. His eyes narrow again, as if he was suspecting you of something. The blush continues to stain your face at his close proximity. You couldn’t help your virgin ways. Even if it is Lucifer…dammit. Attention was attention.

He licks his lips, the movement slow. Your eyes immediately flick down to them. He continues to speak. You note how his voice drops an octave and there’s a certain huskiness to it. “And somehow…I suspect you’ve had them too.” His cold breath fans your cheeks. Suddenly, the dots connected. With a widen of your eyes and a sudden intake of air, you finally figure out who was the male within your dream. That dream. You become frightfully aware of the blush burning your cheeks, but it’s beat by the searing gaze Lucifer sends you. He smiles then, nothing but lustfully. “I don’t hear a no…and judging by your not-so-obvious reaction, I’m going to assume I’m correct. Not that I’m always wrong.” He moves closer, nose brushing against yours. His eyes dropped for your lips for second before flicking back up to your eyes. He whispers now. “You’re making my ears bleed from how much you’re talking Y/N.”

You lick your lips, looking up at him. He’s watching you, as if he’s expecting another escape attempt. You swallow your fear. “I…I have nothing to say.” You manage to blurt out. He chuckles dryly, looking down at the ground. “See now, I find that hard to believe considering how vocal you were during all those…phantasms.” Lucifer smirks, raising his eyebrows suggestively and looking you back in the eyes. You glare, face flaming again. You turn your head away from his gaze. You were unsure how this situation was going to end, but you hoped it did with the brothers and their angel somehow busting in and saving your ass a second time. But you know that isn’t going to happen. Because you didn’t want that to happen. Because you knew, deep down, you instead wanted this. You just didn’t have the confidence nor time to actually make it happen. At the same time though…he’s the fucking Devil. And that’s just so fucking wrong.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Lucifer pipes up, looking at you with a suspicious gaze. You look at him, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Consequences.” You deadpan. His eyes narrow, looking as if he’s offended. “If you’re thinking about the Winchesters-” “That’s exactly what I was considering-” “Oh for fuck’s sake-” He was quick to grab you by the back of the neck with both of his cold hands and press his lips to yours rather roughly. It definitely shut you up and dispelled any doubt in your mind like that. You were unsure what to do with your hands as they clench up at your sides. Lucifer seems to notice, taking your forearms and lifting them to his shoulders without breaking the kiss. You quickly got onto what he was doing, wrapping your arms around his neck as he wraps his around your waist. He presses your chest to his, coaxing a kiss from your lips. It sent a jolt straight to your core.

Eventually, you got the idea of it and timidly kissed back, questioning if you’d done it right. Lucifer hums in approval, kissing your lips one last time before pulling back, looking at you.

“I don’t think you know what those visions do to me…” He whispers, intensely staring into your E/C eyes. You muster up the courage to conjure up what you hope is a sexy voice. “No…I don’t think I do.” You say, looking up at at him with half-lidded eyes. ‘Was that ok?’ You hope it was. Lucifer moves so his mouth is against your ear. He chuckles lowly. It sent another jolt to your core. A weird sensation began to boil in your belly. “Guess I’ll just have to show you then…” With that, he rolls his hips into yours, driving you back against the wall. You let out a gasp that turned into a shuddering moan, clawing his back through his shirt. You felt his arousal rub against your jean covered core, making you yet more turned on. He groans into your ear, nibbling it. You elicit a mewl of some sort, scratching the back of his neck now.

“Mmm I want to hear you make more noises like that…it’s a good thing we have all night.” Lucifer mumbles into your neck, lifting you up by the back of your thighs. You squeak, tightening  your grasp around his neck. He chuckles, catching your lips fiercely. “I’ll make you forget. Who the Winchesters. And my brother are. After I’m finished. With you.” He says between kisses, carrying you to the bedroom. You giggle. “Promise?” He drops you onto the bed, licking his lips. “Write it down if you must sweetheart.” You squeal, giggling as you crawl back on the bed to give Lucifer some room. You kick off your boots and socks along the way. They tumble randomly on the floor somewhere. He quickly crawls over to you, lustful look in his eyes. He then grabs you by your calves, yanking you towards him impatiently. Taken by surprise you yelp, putting your hands on his shoulders. He chuckles, kissing you yet again. As he massages his lips against yours, he manages to unbutton your pants, tugging at them. Your eyes open in fear, not quite ready for that yet. You bite his bottom lip, hoping it would get him to stop. It did. He pulls away, licking his lip. His eyes seem to darken a little more.

You look up at Lucifer, showing your fear. He sits up on his knees. “What?” He asks, holding back the need to fuck you into the bed. “I…I-I’m…” You were unsure how to tell him. Your cheeks flame up in embarrassment and shame. You couldn’t tell Satan you still had your innocence…hilarious. He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue. He keeps shifting from his obvious discomfort. You try not to stare. Taking a deep breath, you gather any dignity you have left. “I’m still a virgin.” You blurt, flushing up in shame. ‘Could you have said it more bluntly Y/N?’ You look away, feeling a little self conscious. You hear a snort and a shift in the bed as Lucifer places himself over you, face in your neck. He kisses it softly, slowly moving up to your jaw, nipping along the way. You make noises you never thought you could make. Noises of undeniable, pure pleasure. Small noises, but new sounds at that. You could feel yourself slowly soaking through your clothing, and that strange but not unwelcome sensation churning deep in your belly. He kisses up to your ear, nibbling on it again. He whispers softly. “I know. It’s plainly obvious sweetheart. Anyone doesn’t notice is an idiot.” He looks back into your eyes to gauge your reaction. Well that kind of hurt. You narrow your eyes at him, pouting your lips. You know he was right. He crawls up farther, getting his hips snug between yours. “I’ll try my best to be slow. No promises.” You nod, licking your lips. “I’m going to take off your shirt, mkay?” You nod again, swallowing.

So slowly, intimately, Lucifer lifts your shirt over your head, dragging his fingertips across your skin intentionally. With each inch, you felt more and more exposed. With each inch of revealed skin, he planted a kiss, staring deeply into your eyes. Strangely, it calmed you a little. The way he was treating this- you- as you might break. He eventually got the shirt over your head, throwing it somewhere random. It left you with your upper half exposed in only a boring white bra. ‘How sexy.’ You look down. You didn’t really know this was going to happen. You felt a finger on your chin, lifting your head up. Lucifer stares into your eyes. His are clouded with lust. You’re sure yours are the same, with hints of nervousness and embarrassment here and there. “Y’know…I always thought lingerie was a bit overrated anyway. So I don’t care.” You smile a little. That comforted you a bit. “Besides…white brings out the stains far more than any other color.” He smiles devilishly and captures your lips in a quick kiss. You blush, kissing him back. He wasn’t too bad. He breaks it, reaching his hand around to the clip of your bra. It floats there, waiting for your consent. You bite your lip, slowly nodding. He swiftly unclips the bra in a single-handedly practiced motion. You do the rest, slowly taking off your bra to expose your breasts. You look down, arms twitching at your sides as you fight the urge to cover your chest. Lucifer fondles them a little, giving them both a quick peck before taking off his clothes. A shiver runs down your spine. All of them. With a single snap of his fingers. He tilts his head back, sighing in relief as his arousal is released from its confines.You, on the other hand, were blushing like a mad woman, eyes nearly bulging from out of their sockets. Why didn’t he do that to you? He looks back at you, smiling proudly and licking his lips, winking. Well, you weren’t expecting that. You couldn’t stop staring at it. Would it even fit? ‘Doubt it.’

Lucifer moves back in, tugging at your pants. He looks at you, asking permission. You swallow nervously, nodding your head. He then puts a hand on your lower back, lifting it. You flinch at how cold his touch is. He’s silently asking you to raise your hips. So you do. Then yet again, repeating what he did as his slid off your shirt, he slowly took off your pants, planting kisses which each inch of exposed skin. His gaze bore into yours. It was getting increasingly more difficult to hold himself back as you writhed and moaned at the sensations. When your pants were off, he threw them carelessly elsewhere. His hands smoothed up your legs, which were slightly stubbly. He didn’t seem to care, placing his hands on your hips. He lays comfortably on his stomach, shifting time to time. He lifts your lower half, laying your thighs on his shoulders. His face right in your soaked through white underwear. The only barrier between his eyes and your untouched flower. You swallow, your nerves getting to you. Lucifer stares at the wet stain apparent on your underwear and some of the glistening juices that seeped onto your thighs. He groans a bit at the sight. “So Y/N…I’m gonna have to make you cum a few times. Just to make sure you’re prepared before the big stuff,” He chuckles, winking. “Pun totally intended.” You snort, rolling your eyes. He lightens the mood a little, making you feel a bit better and less nervous. “That means I’ll have to touch you. Is that ok?”  You take a deep breath, calming yourself a bit. Your heart thuds against your ribcage. You’re about to expose your honey pot to Lucifer himself. And you’ve never shown it to anyone before, let alone allow anyone to touch it other than yourself. Lucifer only watches your internal struggle, fingers lightly tracing the band of your panties. ‘This is your chance to finally become a woman Y/N.’

Finally, with a deep sigh, you nod to him, giving your approval. He watches you steadily, dragging his teeth across one of your hipbones before slowly sliding off your soaked underwear, throwing it in a random direction. You bite your lip, looking at him. You feel exposed and self conscious. “Hm…” He runs his fingers through the prim curls there, feeling them.  He looks intrigued. ‘Is that gross? Is it bad I don’t shave down there? Does he not like that?’ A series of insecure thoughts crossed your mind, lowering your self-confidence by the second. He smiles like a child who’s introduced to a new toy. “Not what I’m used to, but I like it.” You smile a bit, feeling better about yourself. That however, changes quickly. “So no one’s touched you…here?” He somehow magically found your clitoris, placing an index finger on it, slowly adding pressure. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan, your hips lifting a bit. All your insecurities disappeared with a simple touch. ‘Fuck.’ One of your hands ran its way through his hair, gripping it. He groans, shifting his hips a bit. “You like that doll?” You nod, biting your lip. His eyes darken. Another shiver rolls down your spine. More of your juices come flowing out, staining the sheets below. “Mm…you’re so fucking wet for me.” He murmurs mainly to himself, dragging a finger across your slit. You moan at the touch, arching your back to it. You tug on his hair a bit. He groans again, grinding into the bed.

You honestly never expected for this to happen. You didn’t think you’d be tainted by anybody. Yet here you are, the Devil between your thighs. Lucifer stares intensely into your eyes, placing one long languid lick to your pussy. You moan, gripping his hair in one hand and massaging a breast with the other. He continues to lick at you. You feel him shiver underneath you slightly, groaning against you. “So fucking good…” He mumbles. You groan softly, petting his hair. He was doing pretty good at keeping it slow. You feel him insert a finger inside you. The feeling was so foreign but it felt so good. You mewl, lifting your hips off the bed. He slowly pumps the finger back and forth, gaze varying between you and the digit. He seemed enamored with the way it disappeared inside you. You felt him shudder again at the way your inner walls squeezed his finger. The strange feeling in your stomach that you had felt earlier came back stronger, seeming to tighten up. You moan as he steadily gets faster, adding in another. A small pain became evident as his fingers strained your walls. Though the stretch hurt only for a second before it was drowned out by the pleasurable sensation. You let out noises you never had before, flushing up from the simulation. You were a little embarrassed at how vocal you were. Lucifer simply watches, grinding into the bed to relieve himself a bit. Eventually, you got up to three digits pumping in and out, your toes curling and your thighs shaking. You felt something coming, your voice raising an octave. He suddenly presses his mouth to your clit, giving it a suck. The feeling in your belly seems to explode and you let out a loud, long shuddering moan, shaking as your eyes rolled to back of your head, your orgasm rolling through you. Lucifer catches his lips on your folds, lapping up all you have to offer. You pant as you finish, stroking your fingers through his hair. He lifts his head back up, licking his lips. Your fluids coated his lips and dribbled down his chin. You blush a bit at the sight. His gaze is in riddled with lust and want. He sits up, wiping your moisture off his face with his wrist. “I can’t wait any longer.” He growls, pulling you towards him.

You squeak, although it’s followed by a moan as he rubs his thick member against your core, coating it in your slick. He grips your hips. “Think you’re ready for this Y/N?”  He groans, looking down at you as he continues to gently stimulate your clit. You pant, looking back up at him through half-lidded eyes. “I was born ready.” You breathed, laying your back against the bed and grinding against him. He grunts, readying himself. You close your eyes, waiting. Without hesitation, Lucifer swiftly thrusts into you, stilling after. In one full swoop, your virginity was gone and a sharp pain took its place. You yelp in pain, tensing up. He groans at your sudden tightness, crushing your hips in his grasp. There will be bruises. You’re sure of it. “Sh-Shit Y/N. Relax.” He pants, his eyes squinted slightly in pleasure. You whimper in pain, nails digging into his shoulders. “I sh-should’ve made you cum a few times more…Sorry doll.” He pulls out gently, slowly thrusting in. You let out a choked groan, gripping his shoulders tighter. That one didn’t hurt as much. But he’s just so fucking big. “Mmpf…you’re so warm.” He groans, gritting his teeth as he thrusts back in slowly again. You mewl, clawing a bit. He kisses you then, reaching between your bodies and rubbing your clit with his free hand. You moan into his mouth, loosening your grip a bit. He fit. The pain slowly subsided and was quickly replaced with an overwhelming sensation of pleasure. You moan, squeal and mewl, gripping at his neck and shoulders. Lucifer starts slow, making sure you’re ok and not harmed too much. Your walls flutter around him as you writhe in pleasure, opening up to him more. He groans and moans occasionally, speeding up a bit and pushing you further into the bed. You mewl, rolling a nipple in your fingers. It added more to the pleasure. He adds more pressure to your clit, driving you crazy. Eventually, your first orgasm hits you hard, leaving you screaming his name. He simply moans in response, kissing you passionately. He continues to pound into you though, prolonging your orgasm. Soon, a second one follows. Then a third. You lose count of how many times you orgasm, just taking time to enjoy this bliss. Lucifer hadn’t cummed yet, but he wasn’t complaining…much. He finally gets to fucking you into the bed at inhuman speeds like he wanted. You were hollering mess at this point, jostling around like a ragdoll. His thrusts are irregular and desperate. He was close. He leans over to your ear. “I want you to scream my name again as I cum.” He growls, breathing heavily. You squeal in response, carding your fingers through his hair. Lucifer speeds up, moans and growls becoming more audible. Your voice slowly raises as well, hands gripping his hair tightly. It came closer and closer. Until it hits you both surprisingly at the same time. He bites down on your neck as he cums and pulls out as you scream his name in pure pleasure for the umpteenth time. He cums all over your stomach and chest, flopping over to your side. You pant, trying to catch your breath as you lay there post-orgasm. After he recovers, Lucifer gets a nice warm cloth for you to clean yourself off with. You thank him and do so. Afterwards, you both lay in silence, relaying the moment. He’s softly running his fingers through your hair, spooning you.

“I still remember their names.” You suddenly say, looking to Lucifer. He looks back at you, confused. “What?” “You said you’d make me forget Sam, Dean and Castiel’s names once you were through with me.” You giggle. A wicked grin finds its way to his face. “I did, didn’t I?” “Yep.” He rolls back on top of you. “Then I guess I have to keep fucking you until I do.”


Parent Preferences- Batman and Wonder Woman: How You Meet

Batman/Bruce Wayne-

Robin sat on a bed by all the medical equipment, looking sulky and cross.

“The girl was crazy, Father!” he complained. There was a long gash down his chest that looked like it had been done by a cat’s claws, which Batman was looking at closely. It was a very familiar gash.

  “How old was she?” he asked.

“I dunno, about my age. She attacked me viciously and then, she threw a cat at me! By the time I got that wretched thing off of me, she was gone, and the necklace was, too.”

  Batman glanced at Nightwing. 

“Looks like Catwoman took a leaf out of your book and got a sidekick,” grinned Nightwing.

  “She’ll steal again, of course,” said Batman in way of reply. “This time, you keep a lookout for her, Dick.”

  Nightwing groaned.

A week later, he brought a young girl to the cave. He had her by the scruff of the neck of her leather suit and was holding her at arms length. She was screaming and kicking and trying to struggle out of the bonds he had placed on her hands and feet.

  “Bruce!” he yelled out.

Bruce turned his chair from the computer to face Nightwing.

“You brought her here?” he asked, frowning.

   “Yeah,” he said, sounding sour, for some reason. “Does she look familiar?”

With this, he dropped the girl on the ground and yanked off her mask.

  Furious, teary (e/c) eyes met Bruce’s, and he almost- almost, mind- started. The girl looked exactly like Damian.

  And Damian look exactly like Bruce.

He blinked at the girl for a while, then looked at Nightwing, who was standing with his arms crossed and his mouth set in a line.

 “This is a strange coincidence,” said Bruce, trying to be oblivious.

Wonder Woman/Diana Prince

  Diana looked at the young woman who had washed ashore with pity. The woman was obviously dead. The little girl beside her was not.

 As she turned the dead woman over to get a good look at her face, she suddenly recognized her.


She was an Amazon warrior who had gone outside of Themiscyra, and found a man. Much to the dismay of her comrades, she had decided to stay with the man, as she was with child. His child.

 Diana picked up the young girl in her arms to take her to the infirmary, wondering what horrible thing could’ve happened to them.

miraculous 'Your Name' au;

i’ve been thinking about this movie a lot so let’s get started shall we not?

spoilers for your name, duh.

ps: some of these replacements for characters are a little out of the box so please hear me out.

  • Marinette Cheng lives on the countryside of France with her grandfather Master Fu and her little sister Bridgette
  • her mother Sabine Cheng died of a horrible sickness when she was younger and due to that her loving and warm father Tom Dupain turned cold and distant and ruptured any connection he had with the family and their traditions
  • Marinette dislikes her town and wishes she could go to Paris and pursue her dreams of becoming a famous designer
  • but for now she stays in town with her grandfather and sister and her two best friends Alya (who has a little crush on her) and Chloe (who here is much more subdued because she’s been raised by her mother instead of her father, who didn’t have any fortune. Chloe still has a hard time believing in herself, and sometimes needs a little push to be confident).
  • chloe can still come up with snarky comebacks to alya’s taunts however.
  • what she does enjoy doing is weaving braided chords as well as adding little pearls and wooden designs to them to make them her own
  • she calls them her lucky charms and always likes keeping them in her hair
  • Adrien on the other hand is a pretty wealthy boy from Paris.
  • His dad, Gabriel, is not very present but he basically gives the boy anything he could ever want.
  • His best friends are Nino (who encourages his wild side) and Felix (who keeps him a little more grounded.
  • he also works at an italian restaurant to prove to his dad and the world that he can do things himself. he refuses to use any of the money that his father gives him and instead gives it to charity. he only spends the money that he earns.
  • it also helps that Tikki, a beautiful girl who seems like the world spins in her favor, works with him.
  • anyways the two switch blahblahblahblahblah
  • As Marinette, Adrien is able to express a little more of his wildside and the temper that most people don’t seem to realize he has
  • As Adrien, Marinette shows off a little more assertiveness and is also given the opportunity to show off her sewing skills when a rude customer slashes Tikki’s dress with a knife
  • She also gets extremely exited when she sees all of the pastries in the big Paris cafes because it reminds her of the baked goods her parents would make her when she was younger.
  • anyways they cause a lot of mischief to each other’s lives blahblahblah but secretly they don’t want these switches to end.
  • but they do.
  • and after a disastrous date with Tikki, Adrien realises that he might have true deep feelings and try to find her.
  • so Tikki and Felix decide to come with him. Tikki finds it incredibly romantic and Felix just wants to keep his friend out of trouble.
  • but then they find out that the small town was destroyed 3 years ago
  • and Marinette is dead.
  • but he suddenly remembers a shrine he visited as Marinette, Home to Plagg (the god of destruction), Wayzz (the god of protection) and Nooroo (the god of heroes).
  • if all of them agree, they could give him a second chance.
  • and they do.
  • yay!
  • so when he gets back he convinces Alya and Chloe to help him save the town and although Alya is all for causing mischief Chloe is so so on the idea but she stil wants to help her friends.
  • Adrien also tries to convince Tom to back him up but gets reminded of his own relationship with his father.
  • and he realizes that only the true Marinette can convince her father.
  • and since he knows she’s probably in his body near the shrine, he goes there to find her.
  • and while he’s biking to find her he realizes that she came to visit him three years ago when he didnt know her and thats how he got his lucky charm around his wrist.
  • he gets to the shrine.
  • so they change back into their own bodies and first they flirt and tease each other but then Adrien tells Marinette about the situation
  • and then he has the brilliant idea to write each other’s name on their hands so that the memories of each other will never fade
  • but twilight ends and marinette doesn’t get to write her name on his hand
  • and adrien stupid romantic kid writes “i love you” on her hand instead.
  • CRIES.
  • anyways marinette saves most of the town.
  • and now we are 8 years into the future from that point.
  • Adrien and Marinette both know they are looking for something but they don’t know what.
  • Adrien keeps having these weird moments of clarity. Sometimes he hears bells when he passes a certain figure. One time he even heard a conversation between a couple about to get married. The girl refers to the other as Alya, which is familiar. She wants her to lose weight before the wedding.
  • for some reason that strikes something strange inside of Adrien
  • and one day in the train
  • he sees HER
  • he doesn’t know who she is but he chases after her
  • she chases after him
  • they find each other
  • they see each other
  • he cries
  • she cries
  • they ask each other for their names.
He’s Familiar

Peter Parker x reader

Author: Lil Laddie

Words: 1422

Warnings: Swearing, almost getting mugged

A/N: I hope you cuties have been having an amazing summer! I’m gonna be posting another request on Saturday. If you do have a request we haven’t wrote yet, I am so sorry. Please be patient with us. It’s been really fun to be writing outside of requests again and be getting my imagination going, even if my writings been shit lately lol. Thanks for reading! Love you kids!!

“Are you even listening to me?” You asked Peter who had been staring off into the distance while you had been updating him on the drama of your family life.

“Yeah, of course. I just-uh…I gotta go! I’ll text you tonight, okay?” Peter jumped up from his seat and started to run out of the library you two had been sitting in.

You let out a sigh once you could no longer see him. He had been doing that so often lately. Between his weird disappearances and his Stark Internship, you almost never saw Peter anymore. You couldn’t help but feel like he was just purposely avoiding you more than anyone else.

After sitting in silence for a few more minutes, you decided that there was no point in you staying at the library. You were supposed to study with Peter, but you you could do that just as well in your room. The only reason you had come there was because Peter had thought that it would be less distracting than either of your apartments.

You put your headphones in, blasting your favorite playlist as you walked down the busy streets. You felt almost overwhelmed with all the people pushing against your shoulders. You spotted an alleyway that would get you home much sooner. The alleyway was dark and gave you goosebumps just when looking at it.

“Screw it.” You muttered under your breath, turning to go into the alleyway.

With your headphones in, you didn’t hear the gang approaching behind you. You just kept going on your way, completely oblivious to how they were eyeing you down. You let out a gasp when one of them grabbed your shoulder, to turn you around. You pulled out one of your earphones and stood up taller, trying to intimidate the men.

“What do you want?” You hissed, faking confidence in the tone of your voice.

“Empty out your pockets and backpack.” One of them demanded.

“I don’t have any money with me. And if I did, what are you going to do? It’s broad daylight and there are plenty of people walking by.” You said, ignoring the chills that were traveling down your spine.

“They won’t notice anything.” Another grinned, taking intimidating steps to back you into a corner.

You turned to run, when their hands grabbed you and starting pulling you back into the corner. You screamed, not knowing what else to do. You had never been taught self defense and now deeply regretted it.

“Hey!” You heard a familiar voice shout, webs pinning one of your captors hands to the wall.

You watched as Spiderman swung down from the building he was on top of. He quickly took out the group one by one, leaving them pinned to either the wall of the alleyway or the ground. You stood in shock, not really knowing what to do. This whole situation had been a lot for you to take in.

“Are you okay?” Spiderman asked, moving to stand in front of you when he was done.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, your eyes wide with shock.

“Um, miss?” His voice was filled with concern.

“Thank you.” You threw your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. His touch made you feel safe. You couldn’t see it, but Spiderman was bright red underneath his mask.

“O-of course.” He stuttered, wrapping his arms around you slowly. “So, uh, what were you doing alone in this place in the first place?”

“My friend ditched me at the library, so I decided I would just go home. And taking this back way is much faster than the main road.” You explained, pulling away from the hug, much to Spiderman’s disappointment.

“Didn’t you think that this would be unsafe?” You rolled your eyes at his question.

“Of course I did, but I just assumed that since it was daytime that nothing would happen.” You huffed.

“So, are you and that friend close?” Spiderman changed the subject, ignoring the confused look on your face.

“What kind of topic change is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I, uh, I was just wondering.” Spiderman shrugged.

“Um, well yeah he’s a good friend. We used to be best friends actually, but he just started disappearing a lot. I never really seem him anymore.” You frowned, the thought of Peter instantly lowered your mood.

“Huh, that’s too bad. How about I take you home” Spiderman offered.

“Don’t you have to go stop some criminals?” You asked, feeling more than tempted to accept his offer.

“I can make time for this.” You could hear the smirk in his voice while he talked.

“Let’s go then.” You grinned, starting to walk down the alleyway.

“Uh, I could get us there faster.” He didn’t move after you, instead he shot a web up to the next building over.

“You can’t be serious.” You shook your head, looking up at his web wearily.

“Trust me. I just saved your life, you can trust me.” Spiderman offered you a hand that you slowly took.

One moment you were on the ground and the next you were flying through the air. You arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and he kept one arm around your waist. You closed your eyes for a second, not enjoying the idea of seeing how far up the two of you were. But as you swung from building to building, you felt at peace with the air flying through your hair. You decided to open your eyes and began to laugh at how freeing it felt to be up in the sky.

Spiderman turned to look at you, his smile wide as he watched you enjoy yourself. He shot one last web at your window, putting an end to your joy ride. He lowered you slowly onto your window sill and crouched beside you. He watched as you carefully slid open your window and jumped into your room.

“Thank you again.” You smiled turning to look at the masked hero one last time.

“See you around, (Y/N).” He turned and swung off, leaving you to wonder how he knew your name.


“The strangest thing happened to me last night.” You dropped your lunch on to the table, taking a seat across from Peter and Ned.

“What happened?” Ned asked in between bites of his school lunch.

“Well, after you ditched me at the library,” You paused to give Peter a glare. “I decided to head home and almost mugged by this gang.”

“Wait, what?” Ned asked in shock, only for you to shush him.

“I’m not finished yet! So, I’m all corned and Spiderman swung into the alleyway and kicked their asses!” You exclaimed, Ned and Peter exchanging a look that you failed to notice.

“That’s crazy.” Peter mumbled, putting most of his focus on the food in front of him.

“But that’s not the strangest part! Somehow, he knew where I lived and my name!” You said with wide eyes, Peter snapping his head up in panic.

“I’m sure he just saw your school I.D. or something.” Peter said quickly, causing you to look at him in disbelief.

“Even if he did see my school I.D., how would he know which apartment I lived in. And more specifically, he went to my bedroom window. I just feel like I know him. He seemed so familiar.” You said, Ned turning to look at Peter in shock. “You know, his voice kind of sounded like yours Peter.”

“T-that’s strange. Uh, I’m not working at my internship tonight if you want to come over.” Peter offered, changing the subject from Spiderman.

“I’m down.” You smiled, happy to finally be able to spend some time with Peter outside of school.

You heard your name being yelled from across the cafeteria by a friend you had in Biology. They were beckoning you over in an almost panicky motion. You sighed before standing up from the table.

“I’ll see you tonight! And remember to be careful while you’re out fighting crime.” You winked at Peter, his face heating up with a blush.

“Do you think I have a chance with (Y/N) now that they know I’m Spiderman?” Peter asked Ned, watching as you walked to your Biology partner.

“You’ve always had a chance, you’ve just been too much of a wimp to take it.” Ned laughed. “But maybe being Spiderman will give you enough courage to ask them out.”

“I think it will.” Peter nodded with a smile.

Keep me warm and safe

Summary: Dorky Firefighter!Phil and Student/Bookstore saleperson!Dan who likes to blurt out the first thing that comes to his mind.

Based on prompt: “My dumb ass of a room mate just set the microwave on fire and you’re one of the firemen who showed up and now I’m need an ambulance cause damn ur hot.” (Prompt by @phan-cannons)

Read it on ao3!

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I wrote this on a whim, honestly, but I am interested if anyone would like me to write more, because I would gladly take this as a side-project in between USQANF? chapters!

Keep reading

soft andreil because it’s v day & these boys own my heart, i’m sorry in advance?? now excuse me while i go put my andreil playlist on repeat 

  • So there are nights when Neil just watches Andrew sleep because he can’t fall asleep for whatever reason, and of course, there are always a thousand reasons. The stress of getting back into something as trivial as schoolwork after everything that’s happened, dealing with the new additions to the foxes who Neil sometimes feels were placed there just to torment him further, the PTSD and the bad dreams, that drumming fear in his chest & that odd twitch in his feet that still function on an old familiar instinct to run and just get the hell out.
  • On those nights looking at Andrew, asleep and undettered by his side is therapeutic, it reminds him that this, this, this is what he’s fought for all these years without even realizing it. This sense of stability, home, hearth.
  • Sometimes it collides with a warring sense of utter disbelief. There are times Neil still wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat afraid out of his mind that he’ll be alone in some strange city somewhere, or trapped in Edgar Allan with nothing but Riko’s abuse for company or watching his mother’s corpse go up in flames at a beach. There are times Neil has to sit down and relearn breathing, times he has to remind himself that this isn’t some cruel dream. That he gets to keep this. No hallucinations. No sick games. Just this. The two of them. Together. 
  • Watching Andrew sleep always sends the haunting thoughts spiraling away, because all he can focus on is the loose set of Andrew’s jaw, the dim fluttering of his pale lashes that catch the moonlight like powdered sugar and the way his breaths come and go. 
  • How lucky he is, he thinks, to be the one to get to have Andrew like this, in the way nobody else gets to. He would never admit it to anyone, but sometimes, he feels almost smug about it.
  • But mostly, he feels grateful. Grateful for the kisses and the keys and the company, for the trust. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for Andrew to let himself fall asleep next to someone else, to not yank out the knife everytime he feels Neil twist in his sleep or hears Neil’s breathing at his ear, to restrain his movements so that he doesn’t wake in a violent spasm and break one of Neil’s ribs in the process.  
  • Andrew’s an extremely light sleeper, so sometimes he thinks he knows Neil’s watching him, can probably trace his gaze blind, but he never says anything about it, never reprimands him over it. Neil’s just glad he doesn’t have to hear Andrew go “stop looking at me like that” with his eyes closed and feigning sleep. 
  • Neil can’t help but think how young and unimpeachable Andrew looks in his sleep. The way the light spills into his hair, how it frames him like a portrait that deserves to hang in an art museum somewhere. Sometimes, Neil thinks, Andrew tries so hard to appear baleful, that the people around him forget that he’s just a damaged kid, coping against all odds, in the only way he knows how. 
  • He really will be pummeling someone six ways to Sunday if they ever try to convince him Andrew’s a sociopath ever again.
  • Some nights, when neither of them can sleep, Andrew just silently gets up and grabs the keys for the Maserati before heading out the door, knowing Neil will follow. 
  • And they drive and they drive with no particular destination in mind. Sometimes they’ll talk. Most times they don’t. They just soak in the reassurance of the other’s presence like they might run out if they don’t keep acknowledging it. Usually, they don’t bother to turn on the radio. They both appreciate the silence. Sometimes Andrew will allow Neil to crack a window. They’ll enjoy the night breeze, the sound of the tires squelching smoothly against the asphalt, a weirdly calming percussion. 
  • Tonight, Neil’s feeling experimental. He flips on the radio and Andrew says nothing about it. Not an approval, but not a negative either. 
  • There is something torrentially exhilarating about driving as far away from Palmetto State University as possible then turning right back instead of skittering off into the unknown. He’s mapped these roads into the back of his hand, he knows them like he knows his own name. He knows he’ll always find his way back from here. Back home. 
  • The song on the radio intones what he’s feeling, the artist says we’re running on fumes but we’ll make it through the night.
  • Sometimes they’ll park the car on the edge of the highway and kiss each other until they can’t feel their mouths. Neil thinks Andrew is the only thing that keeps him grounded sometimes, that keeps him from having a virtual panic attack every ten minutes.
  • “You’re real,” Neil says, between kisses, it was meant to be a statement but it comes out as a question. “As real as you.” Andrew’ll reply. He knows how much Neil needs to hear that, even if it gets repetitive and annoying, he knows he needs to keep being reminded that he’s home now, and that he’s fractured & reeling & disturbed but that he’s okay
  • When they do eventually go back to sleep, Neil will wake up before Andrew just to run a finger through his hair or over the ridges of his cheeks as he sleeps so that he can memorize this touch, the feeling of this touch, burn it into his brain for when it gets bad again.