someone get me down from here d:

anonymous asked:

How about Howard in the future meeting rodhey!!!! And he's all like all happy and like"Tony I like this one, I approve! " tony would be pleased and also Steve's and Bucky's reaction to this...

Howard has already met Rhodey! :D Tony brought him home from MIT one summer and Howard decided he liked him when he overheard Rhodey saying Tony shouldn’t date someone because he’s a huge dick. So he’s actually meeting Rhodey again. :D

“You’re still here!” Howard exclaimed when Jim arrived in the War Machine armor.

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Did you expect me to be dead?”

“I didn’t scare you off!”

“You’re a fucking marshmallow and Tony gets that from you.”

“…Rude.”

“Anyway TONY I BROUGHT YOU A PRESENT,” Jim bellowed.

Tony appeared at the top of the stairs. “A present!” He clomped down the stairs and ran over to him, hands fluttering at the box he was holding. “A present!”

“A present,” Jim sighed fondly, rolling his eyes. “You can open it.”

“EEEE.” Tony ripped the string off and opened the box, eyes going round when he saw the fancy cocktail dress and gold pumps in it. “Rhodey.”

“It’s from Pepper and Jan.”

Tony pulled the red dress from the box, cooing over the gold embroidered flowers on it. “Rhodey,” he cooed, holding it against his body.

Jim sighed. “I’m literally just the deliveryman.”

“Is there an occasion or something?” Howard asked, holding his hands out for the dress so his son could begin stripping.

“Kinda,” Jim admitted. “Jan makes him a new dress for every Meeting because one time someone made the comment that they couldn’t believe a human could be so creative and Tony’s spiteful.”

“He takes after his mother that way,” Howard agreed, because he was in the habit of punching people that offended him, not showing them up. He let Tony take the dress back. “The shoes are a new thing though?”

Jim snorted. “He was a goner for good shoes the moment he hired Pepper.”

“Everyone is going to loathe me,” Tony said, striking a pose for Natasha when he noticed her.

She nodded enthusiastically. “I kind of already loathe you.”

“That’s great!” Tony exclaimed excitedly.

Howard and Jim groaned quietly because they were never going to understand.

The family business

A little drabble for y'all now for @sofreddie and her celebration on reaching 300 followers (yay!) Had to pick a character (Dean because that’s how I roll) and an emotion (I went with pride). And it had to be 300 words or less (which was so difficult!)

Word count: 298 (I said it was hard)

Characters: sister Reader, Dean, Sam

Want to be tagged? Let a girl know!


Was a gun meant to sound that loud?
Probably.
I was just used to staying in the bunker. It’s not like I didn’t know how to use a gun (or a knife, my fists, hell even a grenade launcher…) but from the moment I moved in with Sam and Dean I tried to stay out of the active side of hunting. They were more then happy with that arrangement. After all, I was their baby sister.
But desperate times and all that.
“Y/N? Y/N!” I could hear my brothers yelling. Not too surprising, seeing how I wasn’t where they’d last seen me and they’d just heard gunshots.
“Over here!”
Turning the corner of the warehouse we were outside of, my brothers slowed as they took in the sight in front of them. I was on the floor, leaning against the impala, smoking gun still in hand and the monster they’d been hunting dead on the ground.
“Y/N?” Dean crouched down next to me while Sam let out a low whistle, and then started dragging the body away.
“Hey D.”
“So, what happened?”
“He managed to break down the door. So I ran out here, figured if I could get to the car, grab a gun, I’d stand half a chance.”
“You did good kid.” Dean said taking the gun from me. “Really good.”
“You almost sound proud about me shooting someone Dean.”
“I’m always proud of you kid. I’m just sorry we dragged you along on this. Should’ve dropped you back at the bunker first.”
“It’s OK, D. People needed saving. It’s the family business after all.” Dean softly chuckled at my words as he stood and helped me to my feet.
“We’ll make a Winchester out of you yet Y/N.”
“I’m already a Winchester!! Jerk.”
“Bitch.”


@akshi8278 @amanda-teaches @bringmesomepie56 @blacktithe7 @because-imma-lady-assface @bradygabrielle-blog @chelsea072498 @charliebradbury1104 @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @d-s-winchester @fictionalabyss @girl-next-door-writes @growningupgeek @georgialouisea @goldenolaf25  @ginamsmith @impala-dreamer @iwantthedean @impalaimagining @just-another-busy-fangirl @jensen-jarpad @jayankles @katymacsupernatural @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @megansescape @muchamusedaboutnothing @nichelle-my-belle @notnaturalanahi @oneshoeshort @percywinchester27 @queen-of-deans-booty @ravengirl94 @reigningqueenofwords @supernatural-jackles @sis-tafics @super100012 @sukanya99 @teamfreewill-imagine @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @trexrambling @talesmaniac89 @the-awkward-writer @u-snavi @winchesters-favorite-girl @wildfirewinchester @wheresthekillswitch @wi-deangirl77 @mandilion76  @27bmm

“It’s a date… the date I was, er, reunited with my uncle when he came back from Afghanistan.”

Cover Gif for MistakenMagic’s Dust in the Road, the sequel to the modern!bagginshield AU A Remover of Obstacles!

The last chapter was Fili’s chapter!! <3

So, after a fuckton of research I finally managed to get get this gif down to a decent size AND look pretty, yay me! (now here’s to hoping you guys can actually view it :D)

(Warning (for those who haven’t read my gushing about these fics a thousand times already): MIND THE TAGS. Seriously. Those following me for a while probably already know this, but Remover of Obstacles is very angsty. Super good! But for the love of god, mind the tags! Anyway, Dust in the Road is less angsty, but only in relation to the amount of fluffy, happy bits :D both are an A++ read!)

i am confused (but so grateful)

sooooooooooooo we hit 10k today! i am honestly so baffled at the amount of support i’ve received here on tumblr and you guys are truly a phenomenal community. like i mentioned in my last text post, i really want to make this follower celebration about *you guys*. your kind messages are what have motivated me to keep this studyblr going (i know i know posts have been sparse but college is hard…) please please please let me know what you’d like from me for this celebration. someone suggested an opportunity to get to know me better (which i am totally down for) and i was also thinking about custom icons… any other celebration requests?

love you to the moon and back, m

anonymous asked:

just curious but if you could assign your mutuals as astro members, who would they be and why? thanks!!

WOW IDK IF I COULD EVEN DO THAT??? I’VE NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT IT. no one here really reminds me of an astro member?? i’d have to rly sit down and think about this bcos everyone i meet here is just so uniquely their own. even if i can’t remember someone’s name, i know who they are like i know it’s them?? if that makes any sense. that being said i don’t rly KNOW anyone here like that except maybe like one or two people. this is obviously purely based off the vibe that i get from them. i scrolled thru my list of mutuals to see if anyone stands out to me and here goes! going under a cut cos it’s long :)) and idk if i can cover every astro member but ya leggo:

Keep reading

Alright, so I’ve never played any other Blizzard games before Overwatch, so I’m a bit of a noob here. Could someone a little more in the know tell me if Junkrat’s demon design is sort of a reference to another Blizzard character from a different game? I saw someone mention that D.va’s demonic skin was, so maybe Junkrat’s is as well?

I honestly just wanna get an idea of what it looks like from the waist down, for *cough* reasons.

Everyone is Secretly Dating and It’s a Mess

I want to apologize first and foremost for this disaster, but it couldn’t be helped. Also, it’s still crack week so I’m gonna hide behind that excuse. Also thank you to @danversgranted​ for being fantastic and editing this because she’s a winner. Title is pretty self explanatory- Supercat, Alexstra, and Lasquez (is that right? Lucy and Vasquez)

Also on AO3

“She’s hiding something from me, Cat.” Kara threw herself dramatically over the back of the couch in Cat’s living room, sighing deeply.

“And? She’s allowed to, you know.” Cat squinted up at her through her glasses, slightly annoyed that the dramatic alien was interrupting her work with such trivial nonsense. She had real things that needed to be done and she needed Kara to sit down and be quiet for fifteen minutes. “You’re not exactly telling her everything about your life, if I remember correctly.”

Cat ignored the frustrated groan that came from behind her, choosing to focus on the layouts in front of her instead. As soon as she leaned forward towards the coffee table, she felt Kara slip onto the couch behind her, throwing her legs around her waist.

“This is an entirely different situation,” Kara said, pushing her chin into Cat’s shoulder. “She’s not allowed to lie to me. I can lie all I want because I suck at it. She has a fair chance to catch me. If Alex is lying, I’m never going to find out the truth.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, dear. I need you to be quiet for five minutes. You promised you wouldn’t be distracting if I brought you home tonight.”

Keep reading

“You Have No Chill” (Simon Dominic)

Full prompt: “We started with one and now we have seven. You have no chill.” - about collectibles or cats

Requested by blameitonssamd

Originally posted by yooneroos

    You woke to the sound of purring in your ear and smiled as you extracted your arms from under the blanket and wrapped your arms around Oscar, the small gray cat who was one of the most affectionate you owned. You scratched his head and he purred louder, pressing the crown of his skull into your palm. You laughed and he burrowed closer against your body, his throat rumbling with a long purr. Next to you, Kiseok was starting to rouse, and he finally rolled over to face you, raising an eyebrow as he watched you and the cat. “Even the bedroom isn’t sacred anymore…” he muttered, his voice rough from sleep.

    “It never was ever since I married you,” you said and he laughed.

    “Well-played. But I meant from the cats.”

    “Come on, Kiseok, you know you love them,” you said, lifting Oscar off your chest and setting him next to Kiseok. He settled into the warmth against Kiseok’s chest but Kiseok just looked at the cat skeptically. “You have a cold heart,” you said finally before pushing back the covers and climbing out of bed. “Come on, Oscar, let’s get some breakfast!”

    When Kiseok joined you in the kitchen, you were pouring cereal into bowls for the pair of you while the cats were clustered around their dishes to eat.

    “Isn’t this a little much?” he said, almost tripping over Jade, the newest addition to your family, on his way to his seat. “We started with one and now we have seven. You have no chill.”

    You laughed. “Yeah, I guess I don’t. I won’t get any more, don’t worry.”

    “Okay,” Kiseok said. “I’m holding you to that.”

    You shrugged. “Sure. But I know you love them even if you try to deny it.”

    “Keep telling yourself that,” he said, though he was chuckling as he said it.

Keep reading

NYC has been amazing.

To be fair, we haven’t left Manhattan at all. But getting from the airport to our hostel was pretty easy.

The subway system seems pretty good to me (a native might disagree and know all the flaws.) Yeah there was someone trying to hustle us to let them use our Metro Pass card thing, and yeah there was some lady shouting things about doomsday so loudly that that it was echoing over the sound of the trains. And yeah it was hot down there (it’s way hotter than I thought it’d be here… Almost as bad as TX.) And yeah at one point the train was screeching so loudly that I can still hear the sound in my ears. But having what seems like such an extensive public transportation system just seems handy.

It’s DIRTY here. Fort Worth I think is like… Notoriously clean. But there also aren’t 8.5 million people living there. Our hostel is kinda crappy compared to the one we stayed at in San Fransisco. But hey it was less than $300 total for 2 nights (one of the cheapest hotels around here for sure) and I have no real complaints… It’s just that the Green Tortise in Cali (for a private room) was A+++++. This place is like a B lol which is still perfectly acceptable.

But I’ve had just as much fun in New York as I did there. And what’s more… Even though I won’t move, I could really see myself living here. San Francisco, I WOULD NOT want to live there. But I really love being here and if I had to live here for some reason I wouldn’t be mad about it.

I’m going to talk more about what we did when I upload pics from my camera. I’m notoriously terrible at taking pictures on my camera, but Lance got some amazing photos of lots of the things we did today.

For right now… There was a thunderstorm going on as I typed this out, we’re 4 stories up, and I couldn’t be more content.

Hey kids I'm writing again

This is rough as hell but I want to try sharing my stuff a little more.

“You’re not taking this seriously, Steve.”
“Sure I am,” Steve says, summoning 70 years of professional seriousness. He leveled eyes with Stark, or at least tried to. Even with both of them sitting down, Tony had a couple inches on him, easily. Still. He’d had practice.
“And that’s coming from me. So.” Tony drummed his fingers on the paper. “Do you really, genuinely, absolutely, want to take snow-cone here home with you?”
“Yeah,” Steve said. It was remarkably hard to intimidate someone when you were shorter than them.
“Steve.”
“Just sign the paper, Tony.”
“Steve.”
“What, Tony? What do you want me to say?” Steve stood up; he was going to have to stalk around a little bit, to get his point across. “No, Tony, I changed my mind. No, take my— take him to some lab, some facility—“
“MacLean Hospital is not ‘some facility,’ Steve. He’d have—”
“If he’s not safe with me, how they hell is he going to be safe for a hospital?”
“No one’s saying—“
“Then what are you saying, Tony? Stark?” Steve asked. He was raising his voice now. “That you don’t want me going home with the killer cyborg assassin because you’re worried about his health?”
“Fine, you know what? Fine. Fine.” Tony scrawled his signature across the front of the paper, and starting flipping through to initial the rest of the pages. “You want to get yourself thrown out a window—”
“I’m not—”
“He put three orderlies in the hospital—“
“Yeah, in the first week, but—“
“—and one of them is still in a neck brace—”
“I can’t do this again!” Too loud. Dial it back. “I can’t. I—” He put a hand up through his hair. “You know I never really knew? They sent his mom a letter, said he’d been captured, but she didn’t— I didn’t— I didn’t find out until after the war. And that was just— missing.”

abc tag

was tagged by @myhopi whom i love 

a/ age: im almost old enough to get married so someone better cuff me 

b/ biggest fear: IDK fam but probably samara from the ring lol love u girl if ur reading this 

c/ current time: 20:11 pm 

d/ drink you last had: some fizzy tropical ting from aldi 

e/ every day starts with: FAJR 

f/ favorite song: i have  a lot of all time favs but RN real by years and years 

g/ ghosts?: maybe but i definitely believe in a malevolence outside of jinns lol

h/ hometown: if i say my hometown it will HUGELY narrow down who i am if like.. someone is looking for me on here soo the closest thing  i guess is the chavvy chavvy leicester citay! 

i/ in love with: this girl in school 

j/ jealous of: @saphisticated cz shes ****** ****

k/ killed someone: yah 

l/ last time you cried: IDk actually.. probably recently coz i cry like at anything 

m/ middle name: i dont Have one but my real surname is redacted i was gnna tell U but my real but that MAJORLY narrows down whom i am again.. .. ahmed is just fake lol

n/ number of siblings: 2 horrible horrible sisters 

o/ one wish: to stop time 

p/ last person i texted: @saphisticated

q/ question you’re always asked: “do you have a lighter?” YEAR 9 BANTS  noo but really IDK. lol “how are you so clever?? you dont work hard at all!”

r/ reason to smile: RN? i lowkey like doing french revision

s/ song i last sang: bow legged robot by yse saint laurent or whaever

t/ time you woke up: 7:45am bc i live life on the edge 

u/ underwear: white with black lace n ribbon

v/ vacation: tunisia in october Yeah yeah 

w/ worst habit: i like peel my nails off :/

y/ your favorite food: chilli paneer, egg friend rice with black bean sauce + chicken, dahiwarya ooo peng 

z/ zodiac: scorps

im tag @saphisticated and anyone else who wanna do it

Request: Epic Saga

Request: can you do one where it’s back when Sam lost his soul? he was dating the reader before and then obviously when he came back he couldn’t love her and didn’t really care what happened to her because he had no emotion but she still hunted with him and Dean and something happens and she messes up behind and he like screams at her and it gives her a panic attack then he finally gets his soul back and she’s kind of still scared of him but he does everything to make it up to her and it’s all fluffy? :)

Word Count: 2,366 (oops?)

Here it is, I hope you like it! Thanks!<3

“Sam?” You whisper, staring at the man in front of you. He’s stood by Dean, which in any other case would have you believing that it was him, but… he died. He was dead. You watched him fall into the gaping hole with his eyes locked on yours and the memory has haunted you every time you’ve closed your eyes for the past year.

A small smile spreads over his face and he nods, his hazel eyes seeming to peer into your soul. You launch yourself at him, throwing your arms unabashedly around his neck and forcing yourself not to cry into his shoulder. Sam merely chuckles (somehow, it seems forced, and you figure he’s just trying to make sure you’re not about to burst into tears) and returns your hug, wrapping you up in an embrace that is so undeniably him that you begin to wonder if you’ve died and gone to heaven.

However, this bliss is not to last – over the next few weeks, everything turns on its head. Sam is cold and distant – you at first put it down to trauma and memories, but you quickly realise he’s entirely emotionless. Then, you realise that he isn’t sleeping – at all. After some investigation and some angelic expertise courtesy of Castiel, you realise that he doesn’t have a soul.

Of all the things you’ve heard, this is the wildest.

It does explain everything, though, and so you and Dean set your minds to finding a way to retrieve Sam’s soul from the cage. You spend hours on end poring through useless, mind-numbing lore, all the while with Sam protesting in your ears that he’s okay, that he doesn’t need his soul and is in fact better off without it. You both ignore him religiously, trying again and again to find a remedy that’ll work.

In between times, you find yourselves hunting again – rarely anything big, but rather just short, simpler hunts. For example, at the beginning of winter, right before the first snow of the year, you find yourselves in Michigan, hunting down a particularly violent spirit.

***

“Come on, quickly!” You hiss, leaping out of the car and bounding into the graveyard. You don’t have long until you have to go – both the spirit and the police will be here soon, and you need to find the plot, dig it up, and burn the remains before you can go. Sam and Dean quickly follow with the equipment, while you, being faster than they are, start running the rows of the older section of the cemetery to find the right grave. It doesn’t take you long and you beckon them over.

“It’s this one!” You call, watching as they run over. You all take a shovel and in perfect harmony, just as always, you get to digging. It took you a while to work out a rhythm that worked with the three of you, but at this point it’s become muscle memory and you could do it in your sleep.

You’ve just hit the coffin when a freakishly cold air blows over the three of you, even colder than the frosty winter air. You breathe out slowly, reaching for the shotgun shoved in your belt.

“I got it,” You say, hopping out of the grave and throwing your shovel to the side, “You guys get it going.”

You straighten up, looking around quickly with your gun level to your shoulder, ready to shoot whatever spirit makes an appearance. Within a few seconds, you’re faced with a spirit – a woman, with claw-like hands stretched towards you, emaciated face twisted into a horrific laugh. You pause – the spirit you thought you were hunting was a man.

“Shit!” You exclaim, stumbling backwards and falling on your ass. The gravestone reads Philip – not the Philipa you were looking for. You aim a shot at the spirit, but she disappears and your salt-filled shell goes straight through the air.

“Guys! Wrong grave!” You hiss, scrambling back to your feet, “We need to go!”

They stare at you incredulously, two wide pairs of eyes boring into your soul. Your stomach turns and you let out a yelp of fear as the spirit appears behind them – you send a bullet into her stomach and she explodes in a shower of glowing embers, but you all know she isn’t gone for long.

“Let’s go! We can come back later for her!” Dean yells, and the two guys dart out of the grave. The three of you begin running – you have no idea who this woman is and where her grave will be, and seeing as dawn is licking at the sky, you’re not going to have the time to find out tonight.

This is all your fault, you realise. You’d been doing the research and must have royally mixed up the names, causing this monumental mix-up. The spirit – who you’d never had the pleasure of seeing before tonight – had been killing everyone it saw, which could be up to five people a night. God only knows how many she’ll get tonight.

You’re silent on the ride back to the motel, Dean with his pedal to the metal and you and Sam poised with rock-salt loaded shotguns, ready to shoot if necessary. You make it back in one piece, and while Dean goes to have a shower, you pull up your computer and try to figure out who the woman was and, more importantly, where she was buried.

“So?” Sam asks from behind you, making you jump. You glance up at him, before going back to reading through the list of dead.

“So, what?” You ask in return. Sam’s expression twists and he shoots you a glare that would make many people wither.

“You’re not going to apologise?” He asks coldly, “People are going to die tonight.”

“I know.”

“And it’s your fault.”

“I know.” You reply shortly, scrolling on. Sam sits down on the chair across from you and shoves the laptop screen down, forcing you to look at him. He’s busy staring at you expectantly.

“It’s not like you to screw up like that, Y/N.” He says, rather like an irritable, disappointed teacher. You shrug, not knowing what to say – it was an honest mistake. Sam rarely, if ever, brings up mistakes, preferring to get down to fixing them.

“I’m sorry.” You say softly, not wanting to aggravate him further. His expression only steels further, however, causing your stomach to twist uncomfortably.

“You’re sorry?!” He all but screams, his sudden outburst causing you to jump a mile, “You’re sorry? Tell that to the families of people who’ll die tonight, because of you! There isn’t room for that much error in this job, Y/N, and if you can’t keep up the right standard maybe you should consider getting the hell out of here. Let’s face it, you’ve never been as good as Dean and I have, anyway!”

You realise there are tears running down your cheeks and you stand up, shaking like a leaf. Sam’s eyes don’t leave yours, cold and empty, as you pick up your computer and step back, shoving it into your bag.

“I’ll just go, then.” You whisper, voice threatening to break. Sam merely shrugs, and you grab your jacket, hoist the bag onto your back, and walk out of there.

You barely notice the white flakes beginning to drift down around you as you all but run down the street. What you do notice is the cold, causing you to pull up your hood.  Your head swirls with memories of Sam from the past few months – his quietly snide remarks and emotionlessness, his cruelty towards anything he didn’t see worthy and the overall lack of humanity within him – the loss of all the things you’d loved him so much for before all of this.

You don’t realise you’re curled against a wall, your fingers freezing to blueness and your heavy, fast breathing escaping as white clouds before you. You’re entirely terrified, feeling like Sam is going to come after you and launch another tirade and hurt you more than he already has. In fact, when someone comes running down the path and leans down beside you, you flinch away, begging for them to leave you alone.

“Y/N! Y/N, hey, it’s me.” Dean says, pulling you up into a sitting position, “C’mon, Y/N, talk to me.”

“D-Dean?” You tremble, staring at him with wide, tearful, terrified eyes, “What just- I-?” You manage, flexing your frozen fingers. Dean sighs and wraps his arms around you, shielding you from the cold.

“You’re gonna get hypothermia out here, Y/N.” He says, encouraging you to your feet, “Come on.”

“I can’t go-“

“Sam isn’t here. I made him sleep in the car.” Dean says softly, picking your bag up for you, “He was out of order. I didn’t hear everything, but what I did hear was ridiculous. C’mon.” He insists. You don’t have the willpower to resist him as he leads you back towards the motel and gets you sat on a bed. He thrusts a Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate into your hands, easing your soaked coat off and making sure you’re not about to freeze to death as the snow falls thick and fast outside.

From that night on, you have next to no contact with Sam. You sit as far away from him as possible in the car and place yourself beside Dean when you go out to eat. You talk only when absolutely necessary, and he seems fine with that – you, on the other hand, feel like you’re slowly dying inside.

***

You stand outside the panic room, arms wrapped tight around yourself as you listen to Sam’s futile begging. He really doesn’t want to have his soul back, and you’re forever grateful that Death isn’t the bargaining sort.

You hear his screams and see the bright light of a soul emanating from the doorway. You shudder, closing your eyes tightly – and then, everything goes quiet.

“Y/N, go grab some water.” Dean instructs, sensing your need to have something to do. You nod gratefully as he heads back into the room, while you run up the stairs and go grab a glass from the cupboard. You fil it with water and on second thought, grab a jug and fill that, too. By the time you make it back to the panic room, Sam is sat up on the cot, rubbing his wrists anxiously.

“Y/N!” He exclaims as soon as he sees you, and you almost pass out right there – you haven’t heard such concern and love in the intonation of your voice on his lips since… well, it feels like forever.

“Hey.” You say softly, chewing on your lower lip as you place the jug on the floor and hand him the water. Sam frowns, before almost throwing the water at Dean and standing up on unsteady legs, trying to get closer to you. You’re reluctant, your panic and hurt from that night coming back to you, all those months of emptiness leaving a dark stain on your soul, and he recognises that quickly.

“Oh, Y/N…” He pauses, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” He whispers, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder – you flinch slightly, but he doesn’t give in, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not- not your fault.” You choke out, your eyes filling with tears once more. Sam shakes his head.

“It is. I- I hurt you. I did what I swore I never would.” He says miserably, eyes filling with tears, “God, Y/N…”

“Leave it, okay?” You say, “Rest, Sam. The last thing we need is you…” You pause, “Hurting yourself.”

You offer a rueful smile and Dean nods silently, ushering Sam back onto the cot. You get out of there as soon as possible, heading outside and sitting on the bonnet of one of Bobby’s old wreckages. You draw your knees up to your chin and hug them tightly, letting yourself breathe and think and work through all of the fear and resentment in your mind – you need to come to terms with it if you want to learn to cope and, in turn, move past it.

You don’t realise how long you’ve been out there until the sky begins to turn dark. You’re yanked from your reverie by footsteps on the gravel behind you – you’d know those footsteps anywhere.

“Hey, Y/N?” Sam whispers, “Room for a little one?”

You smile slightly, shuffling up to let him sit beside you. He offers you an arm, which you hesitantly accept, leaning into his shoulder. There’s something familiar about it, something infinitely relaxing and pleasant.

“I’m surprised Dean let you out,” You comment, “I thought he’d be in full on mother-hen-mode.”

“He is.” Sam chuckles, “He’s watching from the window.”

You laugh slightly, a smile creeping onto your face, “So he is.” You send him a jaunty wave, to which the elder Winchester laughs and waves back.

“Y/N…” Sam pauses, trying to word his next words right, “I need you to know how sorry I was. I don’t know what the hell I thought I was doing but… “

“I get it.” You say softly, “Don’t worry.”

“That doesn’t stop you being scared of me,” He says, and when you s tart to protest, he buts you off, “I’m not offended. I just really, really don’t want you to be.”

“Neither do I.” You admit, to which Sam smiles, pressing a kiss so light that it could be mistaken for a breath of air to your forehead.

“In that case,” He says softly, “I haven’t slept in eighteen months and to be quite frank, I’m pooped.”

“There’s a bed up there just screaming my name,” You agree, “How’s about, you and I head up and just relax for a while? Like old times.”

“I’d like that a lot.” Sam grins, squeezing you against his side for a moment. After a few seconds, he releases you and hops down from the bonnet, offering you a hand. You take it happily, your feet landing on the gravel steadily – Sam’s arm snakes around your waist and the two of you make your way back towards the light of Bobby’s house.

Bedbugs… update and such. XP I haven’t seen one since I had started sleeping on the cot. Since it’s raised from the floor and is not in contact with any of the walls, it’s been pretty safe! So I haven’t had a single new bite.

Tomorrow we’re doing another treatment, so here’s hoping it will go well. XP I imagine it will, but I felt the same way about the last one! And look what happened.

But at least I get my new bed on Friday. New actual bed! :D

I have one piece of advice for you all coming from this. Okay, two.

One: NEVER EVER accept a bed as a hand-me-down. In your own house, maybe, but NEVER from someone else’s house. Through no fault of their own, it could end up having bedbugs.

Two: If you go to a hotel, ALWAYS check for bedbugs. As I was told by a friend of mine, it’s very possible to find or contract them in hotels. So the next time you go to a hotel/motel of sorts, ALWAYS check the bed(s) for them!

Things are looking up, you guys. 83 Wish me luck!

B.T {2/3}

Request: Can you write a second part to the Brett Talbot imagine where your Liam’s cousin but you guys don’t talk anymore because of what he did to coach’s car it was literally amazing your so talented.

‘When are you going to be home?’

‘After the game. Brett’s driving me home after.’ You texted.

‘Alright. There’s dinner for you in the fridge.’

You were sitting on the bench outside, on your phone texting with your mum.

“Hey.” A voice said next to you, you look up to see a boy no younger than you sitting beside you.

“Er, hey.” Moving slightly away from him.

“Saw you here sitting alone. Are you with someone?”

“Ye-”

“I’ve never seen you here before, are you new?” He interrupted you.

“Will yo-”

“Of course I’ll give you my number.” He told you, taking his phone out.

“That’s n-”

Seeing your team behind him, walking to the field. Brett sees you, then his facial expression changed when he saw the boy sitting next to you.

“I think you should go.”

“Why? I’m happy here.”

“What are you doing?” Another voice asked, angrily.

The boy turned around to face the voice, but was faced with a clothed chest in green.

“Who are you?” Brett asked, looking down at him.

“Better than you that’s what.”

Brett gripped his lacrosse stick as the boy in front of him grinned smugly.

“I think you should leave.” You said again.

“Fine. No one wants a cow like you anyways.” He sneered leaving you and Brett alone.

As he walked away, not a minute later, Brett grabbed the boy’s collar and made the boy face him.

“She’s not a cow.”

He gripped his collar tightly, slowly lifting him away from the ground.

“Brett, your eyes.” You told him, placing your hand on his arm.

“Don’t you ever call my girlfriend that again.”

“D-dude, put me down yeah?” He stuttered, “Plus she’s plain. Don’t get why you’re into someone as ugly as her. Hey, by the way man, nice contac - umph.”

“Brett!” You shouted, looking at the guy on the floor. Not knowing you attracted other people’s attention.

“Talbot, what are you doing mate. We’re here to knock out the team not one of their students.” His team mate ran over and told him.

You frowned not liking how his claws are growing and whispered, “Brett. Baby, breathe.”

He exhaled and looked at you, his eyes turning back to his beautiful green. He ran over to you, hugging you to his chest. Leaving his friend checking if the boy is alive.

“You okay?”

“You’re asking me if I’m okay? Brett, you just knocked that guy out and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

“Yes.” He stared at you intently.

“Brett. Baby, I’m okay. See no cuts or anything.”

He hugged you tighter in his arms, not letting go.

“Bre-”

“No.” He interrupted.

“Brett, let me look at your hands.”

He relaxed and let go of your shirt.

You grabbed his hands and looked at his knuckles. Knowing he took a couple of punches, the wounds are slowly healing.

“They’re looking alright. Maybe in a few minutes it should heal.”

“You should look at the other guy.”

“Brett, were here for a game.”

“I know. But no guy should call another man’s girlfriend a cow.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Love you.” He said, bending his head to meet your lips.

“Love you too.” You smiled, looking up at him.

“Talbot! Game’s in five.” Coach yelled out.

“I’ll see you?” He asked, holding your hand.

“Mmh.” You nodded, “You’ll see me.“ You said as you watch him ran to his team mates.

part 3

Loose Handlebars

So I was telling @pale-silver-comb​ about part of my trip to Europe and how I totally wiped out on my bike during our bike ride from Bruges to Damme in Belgium. Then she said “Now I am just imagining a fic Where Stiles falls off his bike and Derek catches him.” 3000 words later and my break from writing parent!sterek for the soldier au is finished :D

Stiles wasn’t all that excited about Belgium being a part of his study abroad. But when he’s got places like Dublin, London, Paris and Rome on his travel plans he can’t really be blamed for his lack of enthusiasm.

Still, they’ve been there for a week now and he has to admit he’s enjoying it more than he thought he would. He feels safe despite being in a big metropolitan area for the majority of their stay. Today is the last day in the country before they move on to France and they’re spending the day driving to see Bruges.

It’s a beautiful day, he’s walking from the bus to the city center wearing his favorite red pants, his worn out chucks and a grey long sleeve T-shirt that’s the most comfortable shirt he packed. It stretches across his shoulders just right; he’s seen Stephanie glancing more than once on the days he’s worn it.

He follows his group, listening to his teacher explain the history of the nunnery they’re walking through. His thoughts take him to one of the last conversations he had with his dad before he left in the trip.

See, his dad has this crazy idea that Stiles is going meet his Prince Charming over here in Europe since he hasn’t during his first three years at college. “You’ve been living like a monk, hiding yourself away at school. I just wish you could be yourself,” he’d said then. And he wasn’t too far from the truth either really.

Keep reading

 Tom kicked a leg over the wire fence, grinning to himself. He’d found something to get into, in the form of an abandoned Institute lab. It was a big place, and he figured there could be just about any twenty year old something for him to mess with in there. Cool stuff from when he was seven. Hell, maybe there were still machines or something. Deciding to hang from the top of the fence for a moment, he let himself drop, looking back where he’d been, upside down. And there was a face.

 “Oh no, someone put me in here, the damn Yankee,” he told them, not bothering to sound convincing.

Voices pt. 1

|It is my first writing guyss ;) I hope you like it^^|

||Warnings: Nothing, I think||

Gotham. Arkham Asylum. 9 p.m. Big, metal doors opened. About 8 strong men walked down the long hallway. All of them nervously held you. Petite, childish, happy girl. You were bounded with handcuffs. The hallway ended with two empty cells. They walked you in and quickly with all the safety released your hands and locked the cell. “What a mess” you sigh and looked around. Dark hallway. Nothing more.

“Why the hell am I here?” You sat in the middle of your new apartments. “Because you are FREAK” you looked to one side “No, I am not” you looked to other side. “Yes… you are… you killed them…” you looked at the lamp above you “I.. I didn’t. I-it was an accident.. I swear” “Oh noo.. liar… you liked it….” you shook your head “no… no.. NO!” You screamed the last ‘no’ and quickly stood up. You ran next to the door and tried to make yourself free. “Let me go!! I don’t belong in here!!” You said loudly. “Shut the fuck up!” Someone from the other side of the hallway shouted. With wide opened (e/c) eyes you sat down. Tears were falling down your cheeks “I… D-don’t belong.. h-here..” you said to yourself and closed your eyes. Soon you feel asleep.

Next day you woke up from loud footsteps getting closer to your cell. You stood up and cleaned your face. It was still wet from the tears. You looked closely when probably the same strong men opened the cell in front of you and left there another prisoner. He was tall. Way taller than you. His green hair and cherry red lips were brighter than the lamps in the hallway. His pale skin probably was whiter than your future. You bit your lip. He was attractive. A few seconds later your eyes met with his icy blue ones. You looked away and turned around while moving your hands on your head still trying to shut the voices down.

It was lunch time. Armed men get you some food. It wasn’t actually food. You smelled the crap in your paper plate and threw it away. “Ya know, food is meant to to be eaten, doll” You heard a low voice. You looked at the cell right in front of you. The green haired man was looking right at you. “I won’t eat this crap. It will poison me for sure…” you replied quickly. “Mh” he smiled “new here right, sweetie?” He asked while looking at you and smiling widely. It was creepy. “What’s your problem?” You hissed and walked away from the door and sat in one of the darkest corners of your cell. “I know the fact that I don’t belong here… that’s all” you said. “We all don’t belong here baby girl. But somehow we all are here…” he laughed loudly. “What did ya do little angel?” He asked curiously. No answer.

After sometime he could hear your whispers “tell him… you have nothing to lose…” “no.. dont tell anybody. He will think you are a freak” whispers got a little louder. “He is attractive, whatever. Tell him..” “DON’T” you shook your head and looked at him from the corner “I killed.. I killed my f-family” His smile got wider revealing his silver shining teeth. “What an interesting baby girl.. what’s your name doll?” He continued to ask. “(Y/N)” you said quetly. “Ahh.. what a name… what a person…” a laugh echoed down the hallway. “What’s so funny?” You stood up “who are you?” You got closer to the door. Voices in your head kept telling the questions you should ask. “Ouuu sweetie. You have just met the worst baby girl. I don’t like to brag about myself a lot sweetie.. I’m Mister Joker, but for you my angel I’m just Mistah J” he kept his smile.

“Mistah J…” you repeated and looked at him. “The worst..” you whispered and for a moment looked at the wall. You were listening to the voices, but for the first time they weren’t talking. Your (e/c) eyes came back to him. “I-if you are t-the worst.. so why are y-you here?” You asked carefully first time not to knowing what to say. “It’s better for you baby girl not to know it…” his eyes narrowed after seeing you turned once again and start whispering to someone. “Mhm” he laughed “you are interesting baby girl. With who you are talking doll?” He kept his eyes on you. “HEY!” he shouted and you turned to him “Finally, some attention” he growled “listen, baby, I won’t stay here any longer. But damn I will comeback for you and your voices” he said no more when the wall behind him broke and he jumped over the gap. Your eyes widen up and you watched it carefully. A helicopter with the ladder flew away. For a moment you could still hear his laugh. You smiled to yourself. “He said… he will help us” you said and sat on the ground looking at that one hole in the cell. Not paying attention to the guards running around. You just started to wait.

Just Say You’ll Wait, You’ll Wait For Me

Pairing: Eren/Mikasa, Shingeki no Kyojin

Setting: Post Series; the companion piece to Say You’ll Come and Set Me Free.

Rating: K+ (Little Language)

Words: 3577

Notes: A request from Ryvius who requested Mikasa’s thoughts on her wedding day and good thing too because I can’t count how many people asked me for a sequel to the previous story haha I got the previous prompt after and I thought they would go perfect together. Believe it or not this is the first wedding fic I ever finished. I can’t tell you how many I started and never finished (those who knew me in the Fairy Tail fandom know that too well, sorry guys D:). I loved writing this because precious babies; they are just too cute for me. The title is the continuation of the lyric from the companion piece. It’s from “Till Kingdom Come” by Coldplay.

FF.Net/AO3

Mikasa knew she should be sitting down and relaxing until someone came to get her, but she had instead taken to pacing her bedroom floor instead. Her hands fidgeted with each other, her heart racing in her chest. She had been in here all morning, only having Sasha come in once to help her into her dress. Mikasa flattened her hands against the lace of the white dress, gently brushing out any wrinkles that might have formed.

It was a simple dress; a floor length dress that was covered in lace. It wasn’t too flowy or poofy, it just fit her body and flared out lightly from the waist down. Mikasa glanced over at her reflection in the mirror, her long white veil seeming so much brighter against her black hair. She would have felt more comfortable in a shirt and skirt but the dress was a gift from Hanji. Mikasa tried to say no, but Hanji insisted. Even Sasha nearly started crying when she helped place the veil on Mikasa’s head. She said she was just so happy that she could be here to see it before being called away outside.

Mikasa looked away from her reflection and back over the room she shared with Eren. It seemed everyone was happy which in turn, she was happy to see but it didn’t stop the bundle of nerves tightening in her stomach. She sat down on the bed with a sigh, careful her dress didn’t get stuck anywhere.

She didn’t even know what was making her so nervous. This is what she always wanted; she always wanted to have a home with Eren, to spend the rest of her life with him, to have a family with him. She cried when he asked her to marry him because it was what she had wanted for so long. Mikasa couldn’t understand why she was feeling sick instead of feeling elated. She didn’t even know what there was to be nervous about. She lived with Eren as a child, then in the military, and then they had a house together; it’s not like she was stepping into the unknown. She was always with him, and just because someone was telling them they were married didn’t make anything different.

Yet at the same time it did. It made it very different.

Keep reading

Hey guys!~

I’m pretty excited as I just realised I am at the 500 followers mark! Thank you all so much for the support, messages and everything! Here is a tiny Rin sending good vibes to all~

I wanted to somehow thank you guys for everything espeially when I was down so… 

We are doing an ART RAFFLE! :D

If you would like to get a drawing from me send me a message/reblog/contact me somehow here on tumblr saying what would your request be! OC/fanart/anything you fancy (just keep it non-explicit :D) 

And in a week on the 21st November someone will get randomly selected and <a drawing montage later> you’ll get your request!

Thank you once again! Have a great day~