take controll of the radio

Your duty

Fandom : Teen Wolf

Request? : Yass, this is for @thejulietfarciertlove, pack mom imagine

A/N :  So I don’t know if it’s good but here we go. Sorry I took so long to publish this, I had a lot of things going on lately. I hope you’ll enjoy it ! Feedbacks are more than welcome ! ;p 

Also, there are a few references to supernatural but nothing that you can’t understand if you don’t watch the series, don’t worry.

Word count : 1522

Originally posted by castiels-catss

You had to, you had to protect them, it was your duty

The pack, Scott’s pack, it was the one who saved you. They took you in without even hesitating. You couldn’t return home, heaven, it was your home. You were an angel of the Lord, not the blond, blue eyes kind of way, the warrior one. Your existence consisted in fighting for God and his creation. The thing was, you couldn’t anymore, you couldn’t take orders from selfish, manipulated angels who would do anything to take full control of Heaven and Earth. So you ran, you shut the angels’ radio and went on your own way. 

Except that Heaven doesn’t let anyone go that easily…

** 6  months later **

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something in the chase pt. 2 | pete dunne

pt. 1

That night had become just another number on our long list of shared encounters. Though I’d sworn to myself I would defy Pete’s wishes until the end of time, it was clear I’d done exactly the opposite. I tried to be mad at myself, but that was damn near impossible when he was so good at what he did.

We weren’t anything exclusive. It was strictly casual sex, neither of us interested in a committed relationship. Or rather, he wasn’t known for them and I knew full well I wouldn’t be the one to change that. I’d secretly hoped that he’d come around, that he’d ask for something more, but at the same time, I would be glad if he didn’t. Expecting Pete to change his ways was just my own foolishness clouding my judgement; relationships weren’t meant for him.
He’d made that perfectly clear directly after our first night together. Only ten minutes after we’d collapsed into the soft mattress, all heavy-breathing and pure exhaustion, he slipped out from beside me and gathered his things.
“You’re leaving,” I said simply, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice with indifference.

He was in the midst of putting his shoes back on, pausing as he glanced over at me. “Yeah,” he mumbled, resuming his work before grabbing his phone off of the bedside table, “That okay?”

All I could do was nod, because even if I hadn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered. He would leave anyway, taking my resolve with him as he headed to his own room with an even bigger ego. As always, he’d managed to get his way, and with a girl who had vigilantly denied him over and over again, no less. My forced approval of his departure was all it took to have him walking out the door without hesitation. 

The bed didn’t seem empty without him, or any of those cliches. It just seemed sad, mocking almost, as if it was taking jabs at my weak succumbence. The more time I spent trailing my fingers along the spot where he lay just minutes ago, the more my body begged for sleep and my mind flared with anger. I was somewhat angry I couldn’t withstand Pete’s antics any longer, but I was even angrier I knew it wouldn’t be the last time.


What we had didn’t need to be discussed. It didn’t need to be revealed to the world, or anyone besides the two of us for that matter, and it didn’t need constant arguments over its meaning. We’d both accepted the situation for what it was, even if neither of us knew  what it was. 

That isn’t to say there weren’t occasional moments of confusion and senseless disagreements. The terms of being non-exclusive were simple- either of us could do as we wished with other people, and it didn’t require informing the other. It had been a consensus between us, and I stuck true to it at all times. I never asked about other women, though that was partially thanks to the stinging pain I felt when I thought of Pete with anyone else.

He, however, had a streak for moments of unhinged jealously. The most recent bouts occurred after he had caught me dancing with the rambunctiously flirtatious men out on the dance floor. Truthfully, it was completely innocent. I had no intentions to let the interaction go any farther than that, but Pete had seen it through his own eyes and his image was vastly distorted.  

“C'mon,” he growled, placing his hand on my back as he lightly pushed me forward and towards the exit.

“What the hell, Pete?!” I hissed, “What’s your problem?”

Up until we were out of the crowded, loud building, he stayed silent. Once we reached the beauty of fresh, new air and uncrowded space, I was preparing to rip right into him, until he pulled me to him and pressed his lips to mine roughly.
It wasn’t anything unusual, the kiss. We often shared intense, rough kisses like that one, but something just felt off. He refused to break it, his hands against my face tightly, almost as if he was afraid I would disintegrate had he let go. I had to be the one to pull back, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly down-turned. Before I could question him yet again, he leaned forward in attempt to reunite our lips into yet another electrifying kiss, but before he could, I stepped back. 

A deep, frustrated sound resonated from within him. “I don’t like seeing guys with their hands all over you.”

I sighed, a result of both annoyance and confusion. He was the one so hell-bent on staying as far away from commitment as possible, yet here we were outside of a club near-arguing over my playful actions with men I’d never see again. 

“You don’t get to insist on no jealousy,” I retaliated, “And then act like this every time I’m having fun.”

“So you were having fun, huh?”

“Yeah, I was! And you were jealous, weren’t you?”

He scowled, taking my hand as he led us to his car. “Were you havin’ more fun than you have with me?” he demanded, pressing me against the car door. 

“No,” I answered honestly, my arms folded in determination, “Why does it matter, anyway? We have rules to this, Pete.”

“I told you a long time ago you weren’t just another girl. Did you think I was lyin’?”


I was a fool for thinking things would drastically change following that incident. He’d made it clear there were feelings rooted somewhere within, but he made no effort to explain them or even confirm them. Whenever I’d brought up the subject, he brushed it off or insisted it was still the same relationship we’d agreed upon in the beginning. 

He’d have to be blind to believe that was the case. Things had changed, albeit subtly. Absentminded forehead kisses became a thing, as did frequent terms of endearment and compliments. The one thing that never changed was his absence. He’d never stayed, always leaving to his own room no more than twenty minutes after, abandoning me in discomforting darkness and silence. 

I could perhaps argue my case for certain circumstances, but I knew better than to ask him to stay. That was the only subject that remained untouched, a silent forbiddance we both acknowledged but never discussed. We were making some ground, slowly but surely, but to bring up his quick exits would destroy it all much too quickly. I had a feeling I wouldn’t want to hear the explanation, anyway.


Something told me these changes weren’t intentional, either. We were slowly inching our way into what was more than pure-physicality, and I had an inkling Pete’s new behavior went unnoticed by him. He more than likely didn’t think much of it and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

On one hand, I was elated that maybe, just maybe, we could eventually surpass our situation; on the other hand, however, I knew that was a long-shot. Even if we did become an official couple, who’s to say it would go as well as our current relationship? We were boundless in our actions, able to do whatever else we wanted to as long as we fulfilled each other’s desires first. Commitment was a foreign term to us, especially to Pete, and I had no way of being sure he’d like it. He didn’t like being restricted and I didn’t like being heartbroken. 

For now, though, I could get used to the distinct feeling of his lips against my forehead right before he left my room. And when he invited me out on a date (but not a date, according to him), although skeptical at first, I figured I could get used to those, too. Though, the first time he mentioned it, I couldn’t hide my surprise and he couldn’t hide his insistence that it wasn’t really a date. 

“Let’s go out to dinner, tomorrow,” he brought up suddenly, “You and me.”

Trying to suppress my shocked scoff, I let out an awkward breath of air. “You mean on a date?”

“Let’s not call it that. We're still what we were a couple of months ago, right?” he confirmed.

It took all the power in my body to nod my head, wishing so desperately that I could deny it. After all, we weren’t really what we agreed upon, breaking nearly all of the rules we’d set in place. 

Either I was terrible at hiding my disappointment or Pete just wanted some form of physicality, but when his hand reached over and rested on my thigh gently, I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same. And there was something about this touch, so featherlight and peculiar, that left me breathless.


He picked me up at seven, as promised. Neither of us looked especially dressed up, since it was just a casual outing, but seeing him and knowing we were actually heading out to do something together made him look all the more attractive. Apparently, he thought the same about me.

“You look amazin’,” he commented, opening the car door like a true gentleman. 

“I’m not wearing anything special. But, thanks,” I smiled genuinely, immediately taking my position as the radio-controller and changing the station, “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

The quick wink I shot him was all he needed to know that was an understatement. 

“Well, maybe I’m just sayin’ you always look amazin’.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, almost missing the sly smirk that painted his face as he admired his handy-work- always getting me to blush like a lovesick schoolgirl. “Guess that’s why you chased me all those times.”

My reminder of his past perseverance caused his jaw to set tightly, seeing as he despised when I used his own desperate actions against him. He didn’t like to be reminded that he made himself look like such a beggar, but he sure did like to remember that here I was, invested in him just like he wanted. It must’ve made him feel powerful; I knew a thing or two about his absolute need for power.


The non-date with Pete was going well, all things considered. He seemed awkward, shifting uncomfortably a few times and getting fed up with the menu, but since this was a completely new atmosphere for him, I let it slide. 

It wasn’t until the beautiful waitress made her way over to our table, beaming down at Pete and all but ignoring me entirely, that things started going south. That’s fine, I thought to myself. She could flirt all she wanted, even if it was incredibly rude considering she could clearly see me sitting directly in front of him. As long as I had his full attention for the night, I would sit back and enjoy her feeble attempts.

Truthfully, I didn’t think Pete had it in him to flirt with someone while out with me. I knew of his antics, but this seemed to be a new low even he couldn’t stoop to. That belief repeated in my head on a loop right until he decided maybe he could reciprocate the flirtation.

What began with lingering stares and smug smiles escalated to conspicuous compliments. At some point, I’d had enough. Standing up from my seat abruptly, I made a quick exit before realizing I had come with him. My only options were to stay and witness even more of his relentless flirting or wait for a taxi to arrive (which gave him plenty of time to follow after me). Before I could make the decision myself, loud footsteps behind me caused me to drop my arm and, consequently, my phone by my side. 

“What was that?” Pete asked harshly, standing in front of me with confusion and annoyance written all over his face. Either he was dense or even more an asshole than I thought- the latter seemed more probable though.

“What was that?” I laughed bitterly, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“What are you on about?”

I opened my mouth to speak, about to run through the night’s events in hopes he’d realize for himself what he did wrong, but I ultimately decided to walk away to rebel against him. Only about ten steps in, a firm hold on my arm left me stuck in place.

“Are you gonna take me home?” I questioned, staring at him sharply. If I started acting like I didn’t care, maybe I eventually wouldn’t.

“Is this about the waitress?” he concluded, voice hushed for whatever reason.

The second bitter laugh I emitted was purely unplanned, a true portrayal of how awful the whole situation was. And it wasn’t just because of the night’s events. Seeing him flirting with someone right in front of me gave me a tiny glimpse of what he was doing without me around and, for some reason, it hurt like hell.

“I was just havin’ some fun,” he assured, his eyes never leaving mine even when I tried to look elsewhere, “You know about havin’ fun, don’t you?”

So now he had resorted to taking obvious jabs at my previous actions. I hadn’t even done anything wrong and yet he still had the memory at the front of his mind. “Fuck you, Pete,” I hissed.

“Is that what you want? All you had to do was ask, love,” he chuckled, urging me towards his car as always, “You drive me crazy, woman.”


The night was exhausting and drawn-out, but so absolutely intoxicating. If I had gotten any more caught up in the thrill of it all, I’d have missed the mumbled confessions he didn’t stop from leaving his lips.

He didn’t say the L word, but it’s not like I expected him to. Even I couldn’t say what I felt for him was love. What he did say, however, was the closest thing to it.

“I wish we could be more.”

It was mashed in between other sounds of absolute pleasure and breathy obscenities, and I don’t think I was supposed to hear it, but I had. I’d froze for a moment, unsure of what to do or feel or think, but in a quick second I shoved it to the back of my mind, focusing on every other feeling coursing through my body. There would be endless time to ponder his words later.


Just as Pete was doing his habitual clothing-collecting and preparing to leave without much of a goodbye, his words from earlier registered. There was no time to wonder if I had heard him right, if my ears had played a cruel trick; he was about to leave and I was about to let him. 

I knew I had to get him to stay.

When he made his way to the bed to place a routine kiss upon my forehead, I whispered out a desperate request. 

“Just this once, please stay.”

Though it didn’t seem like much, he and I both knew it was a lot to ask for. Not once in all of our months of doing this had he ever stayed afterward, and not once had I asked him to. He stopped, frozen in place by my sudden plea. “I can’t,” he denied, shaking his head as he made his way to my bedroom door.

Following him, I watched his body pause right before he stepped out of my apartment completely. 

“Pete,” I warned, “If you walk out of that door right now, you better never come back.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, slamming the door behind him. 


Pete Dunne was a compulsive heartbreaker who never spent much time with one girl. I’d been lucky enough to even receive the time I had. Although we saw each other around a lot, we never spoke. He easily could’ve worked his magic to have me back with him once more, but he didn’t. It wasn’t because he got tired of me, it wasn’t because he wanted someone else, it wasn’t because I did anything wrong. It was simply because this was Pete Dunne and he would always have an irrational fear of relationships and a terrible habit of ruining good things and I was silly to even think I could change that.

anonymous asked:

Can we see the headcannons for what genre of music does the squad usually/loves to listen to? (Excuse my bad English ;-;)

THE VILLAINOUS CREW’S MUSIC TASTES!

A/N: Pfffff your English is perfect!! And if anyone would like to request/ send an ask in Spanish, I don’t mind, just know that I’ll likely reply in English x)&
Not really good at other languages though, but bad English is never a problem!!
Kay! Here we go!

Black Hat:
-Orchestral music and Jazz are his favorite genres, being old fashioned.
-He does enjoy newer music, as well, especially the stuff from weird contemporary composers.
-Occasionally one of Demencia’s songs are tolerable, there are a few of those he enjoys. Just don’t tell her that.
-Danse Macabre, Bach’s Little Fugue in G Minor, Black Angels by George Crumb, Bad Boy Good Man by Tape Five, Toccata and Fugue in G minor, Such Sweet Thunder by Duke Ellington/ Billy Strayhorn, and much of the music of Danny Elfman are examples of what he likes.

Dr. Flug:
-He listens to music while he works sometimes to clear his head.
-Up beat music is always fun, but nothing too crazy.
-There is a bit of variety to what he listens to because he doesn’t listen to any specific artist or genre.
-If he likes a song, he downloads it.
-The Middle by JimmyEatWorld, Get Up Offa That Thing, Subame La Radio by Enrique Iglesias, Fireflies by OwlCity, All My Friends Say by Luke Bryan.

Demencia:
-She’s in the same boat as Flug. There is a bit of variety here.
-From Electronic music of varying styles, to metal, to punk, to really anything up beat, also violent instrumentals make her happy.
-She doesn’t really pay attention to lyrics all the time, just to how she feels while listening. If she’s excited, she’s in.
-However if a song’s lyrics speak to her, that’s awesome!
-She moved pretty fluidly between genres, not especially caring if the band is labeled as a specific genre. She likes what she likes.
-Poem by Taproot, Pop Culture by Madeon, Perhaps some Panic! songs, Smothered by Spineshank, I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin ((Don’t tell her but Black Hat likes this one too!!)), Silence Speaks by While She Sleeps
-Also, Rap God by Eminem ((she’s not especially into rap or Eminem, she just saw someone do the fast part on the internet and decided to listen to the whole thing. She put it on her phone cuz why not?))

5.0.5:
-Music is amazing!!
-He likes just about all of it, unless the music is super aggressive.
-5.0.5 listens to music with Flug a lot so he likes those songs pretty well.
-He also likes songs meant for younger kids and the intro songs to his favorite anime or TV shows!
-He also really enjoys the songs from Steven Universe (or whatever show is similar in their universe, but it’s cute stuff like that, you get the point).

All Together/ In the Car:
-Demencia picks the music so long as it doesn’t give Flug a heart attack or Black Hat a headache.
-Sometimes BH takes over radio control. Because the boss can do whatever he wants.

Wild Turkey Woman

Summary: Killing time and liquor in a hotel room with Dean.
Pairing: Dean x Reader 
Word Count: 1420
Warnings: Language, drinking, sexy times, implied smut. 
Challenge: @winchester-writes’s Birthday Drinking Challenge; my prompt was Wild Turkey and, “Why is it I only drink this when I’m with you?” as well as @chaos-and-the-calm67‘s Milestone Challenge, wherein my prompt was “Have You Ever Really Love A Woman” by Bryan Adams, as well as the gif at the bottom of the fic. 

Your name: submit What is this?

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Syd Tries FanFiction: The Blarke Reunion

So fair fucking warning I have never in my life written fic before, but I typed this out for @clxrkblake tonight so we could cry and she told me to post it so I’m gonna. Basically this was my ideal, dream reunion before I saw the finale. (I’ve changed my mind about a few things since we saw the new ship but whatever I’ll still dream of this reunion every night for the next 9 months.)

So anyway, I wrote this up in like 30 minutes and there’s probably lots of typos, but deal with it and then come cry with me. <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellamy sits by the window like he does every year, looking at the planet he used to call home. The glass in his hand is almost empty by now. It almost makes up for the whole thats still in his heart. It almost, for a second makes him forget she isn’t there beside him, that they never got that drink. 

He starts the same as he does every year. “I miss you. It’s been 6 years and I still miss you every day. You’d be so proud of everyone. Even Murphy.” He wipes at the tears collecting in his eyes. It never gets easier.

“I just wish… I wish I’d have told you when we had the chance. Timing never really was our strong suit was it? We were too busy keeping 100 kids alive. I wouldn’t trade it for the world though. Not a second of it.” He lifts the empty cup towards the planet thats now her grave. “I still love ya, Princess.”

He knows Raven’s behind him even before she comes to stand next to him. She’s always there for this. “It’s never gonna get easier is it?”

She shakes her head. “No. I still miss Finn every day. But you learn to deal with it. You never get over losing the one you love, their memory just becomes a part of who you are.”

He nods along. He asks her the same question every year. Every year, expecting to get a different answer. Maybe this time she’ll tell him ‘Yeah. The pain fades. One day you can breathe again. One day you’ll be able to look down at the earth below you and not feel that part of you that’s missing. But she never does.

“She’d be so proud of you Bellamy. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I just-” The static of the radio on his hip interrupts his thoughts. “Shit I thought I turned that off.” He fumbles for it, hands made clumsy by the drinks he’s downed. He barely has it out of the holster when he stops himself. Was that? No… It couldn’t be… It was just the alcohol in his system. But then…

“Where - you?"A voice. A voice even after 6 years, after 100 years he would never let himself forget. Her voice.

"Oh my god…” Raven whispers from behind him. “It can’t…”

The radio depends back into static once more before going silent and Bellamy raises his own shocked eyes to meet Ravens. “Clarke?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They don’t believe him. “You were just drunk Bellamy.” “It’s been six years Bellamy.” They think he’s holding on to a ghost, but he knows what he heard.

“We can’t risk it because you thought you heard a dead girl on the radio.” That’s Murphy.

“It could have been an old transmission… we can’t just go down without knowing anything-”

“I left her once. I am not doing it again. If there is even the slightest chance that she is alive down there, WE ARE GOING BACK FOR HER.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks after the night by the window they make contact. He’s helping Monty check on the algae when he hears Raven screaming his name through the halls.

“I found it.” That’s all it takes for him to follow her to the control room, to the radio, to Clarke.

“This is the station it came through. But we don’t know for sure-”

“Have you tried to make contact yet?”

“No, we were waiting for you.”

“Ok…” He sighs and grabs the radio. This is it. He’s either about to finally find that missing piece of himself or lose it all over again. “This is Ark Ring to… the ground. Is anyone there? Clarke are you there?”

There’s nothing. It feels like hours floating through freezing water waiting to hear something, anything.

Nothing.

“I’m sorry Bell.” Monty puts a hand on his shoulder.

She’s gone. He pushes himself away from the table ready to yell, or cry, or hit something. 

“-ello?”

“Holy shit.”

Bellamy could tell you he’s never moved that fast in his life, almost falling over himself to get to the radio. “Clarke?”

“Bell-my?” His legs give out, but Murphy leans in to ease his fall.

“Yeah. Yeah Clarke it’s me. Oh my- It’s you? It’s really you? How?”

“Yeah Bell, it’s me.” He can hear the tears in her voice, the same as his own. 

“I’m coming back for you. I’m coming back. I promise. I’m not leaving you again.”

“I miss you.” Its all she can say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day they land on Earth the second time, isn’t anything like the first. It’s raining for one.

Two, he knows what’s waiting for him when he opens the door. 

And she is. 

Standing at the tree line, looking as beautiful as the day he lost her, is Clarke. Her hair is shorter. And there’s one or two more wrinkles around her eyes when she smiles, but god is she beautiful. Its like they’re not frozen for a moment, both of them standing in shock and amazement that they finally get this. 

Then, it’s like time is moving in fast forward and he’s on his feet and hers are carrying her towards him and they crash together like suddenly all their forgotten broken pieces are fitting back together. He holds her so close he thinks he can feel her heartbeat in his chest and she tangles her small hands through his hair and they’re both crying. But for the first time in 6 years, they aren’t tears for grieving. He’s sobbing apologies against her hair and she’s whispering forgiveness against his shoulder and it’s almost like they didn’t lose those 6 years. Like they were kids again, stranded on a dying planet, leaning on each other for survival.

He pulls back first to look at her. He wants to take in every single inch of her face and memorize it because he never wants to have to forget that face again. 

“I never gave up.” She laughs. “Not on you.”

He stroked her cheek, through the rain and the tears. “I thought I lost you. For 6 years.”

“You didn’t.” She pulls him close against, resting her forehead against his, and they laugh. 

He spent the past 6 years wishing he hadn’t lost her, dreaming that she could come back to him, praying that he could just hold her one more time. And now he get’s all of it. Because she’s alive and in his arms and laughing with him in the rain and he’s never going to lose her again.

TAH DAH! I hope it wasn’t awful! I’m gonna tag a few mutuals so they can share my pain. Love you guys!

@sassamyblake @bellsgirl @octanakin @ravenbellclarke @starboybellamy @scottmcblake @bobmorlee @stargirlclarke

timelords-in-hogwarts  asked:

Hi, I really love your blog❤️It's my birthday this week and I was wondering what would tfp Optimus and Bumblebee do for their human s/o birthday? Thanks 😊😊

Happy Bday buddy! 🎉

Optimus:
* Hmm… a birthday. He assumes that’s like a creation day.
* Well, you’ll have to celebrate! Hey Ratchet how do you think humans celebrate their creation days
* He gets some advice from Jack, Miko and Raf, and they help him shop for a present
* It’s rather exciting. It’s very hard not to tell you what the present is before the day. He’s had to run out of the room more than once he’s a terrible liar
* He takes you for a scenic drive. You control the radio.
* He very awkwardly, very proudly, gives you the present
* He’s got the goofiest smile the dork

Bumblebee:
* Birthday? As in… creation day?
* And… ballOONS? AND CAKE?? AND PRESENTS????
* He’s gonna throw you the best surprise party
* It’s so exciting!!! A party!!! He’s so excited and it’s not even his birthday
* He spends ages searching for a present for you. It has to be perfect. You’re perfect and you deserve a perfect present
* He takes you for a race around the desert, playing lively tunes from his radio and going as fast as you want him to
* Then he takes you back to base and there’s balloons EVERYWHERE. EVERYWHERE
* “Surprise!” he bleeps, and thrusts his present out at you.

“ If you’re doing a large, complicated character with radio controls, it might take a number of people several months to make it and if you’re talking about a quick little hand puppet, it could be made in 2 days, so there’s enormous range there, and no real easy generalities” - Jim Henson.

A rare Photo of Jim Henson with a Skeksis ​from The Dark Crystal.

A Storm's Brewing (Punk Harry One Shot)

      LIKE, REBLOG AND FOLLOW IF YOU LOVE PUNK 1D <3

      Oh gosh, don’t make eye contact. Where the hell am I? 
I staggered around with a map in my hand, phone GPS in the other while I tried walking back to my car after a birthday party I went to in the middle of the city. Now, suddenly the parking lot was no where in sight and I was wandering no longer in the fancy part, but around the shady parts of the city alone. At the party, I left early because of all the rude people that were friends with my best friend, who was turning 19. I just wanted to be home, away from everything.
     I flipped my curled hair over my shoulders, pretty sure I stepped in gum as they were stuck to the bottom of my Keds. I was wearing a baggy floral tank top and leggings. Needless to say, I didn’t feel like I fit in here, where everybody was at least in black and had 10 tattoos minimum. 
     Turning to a skate park, I sat on the edge and looked at my surroundings, figuring out the street and how I got here in the first place. Hiding my face in my knees for a brief moment, upset about how the whole day turned out. Of course, as if right on cue, a raindrop hit my forehead. Sprinkles scattered all around me. 
     "Hey, you look lost, babe.“ I jumped and turned, looking at three attractive men. The one that spoke had dusty colored fringe in a beanie, and a thin tank top that showed a tattoo of a buck on his shoulder, getting rained on. His friend, a Pakistani boy had black hair in a quiff, baggy shirt and a cigarette hanging from his lips. Another skater had curly hair pushed back and wore flannel, his brows knitted as he watched me.
     I nodded with a shy smile, looking around and comforted by the couple passerbys hanging around. 
     "You need help?” He asked again and I shook my head, cautiously and slightly fearful. “What, you’re scared because you’re in a skate park and we smoke?” He said lightly, chuckling with a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.
     "No, I’m fine,“ I spoke up, feeling better around the two. 
     "She speaks!” The dark haired one said and I laughed slightly.            "Where are you trying to go, love?“ Asked the curly haired.
     "I parked in the big parking garage by the mall but I don’t know where it is now,” I sighed, wiping drops off my cheek as the rain grew heavy. “I kind of left in a rush," 
     The shortest held a burgundy hoodie that draped over his toned arm. Picking it up, he leaned down and draped it over my hair, protecting it from the rain like a cape. I thanked him softly, pulling it over me and taking in the smokey scent. "I’m Louis, this is Zayn,” he gestured to the black haired boy, who puffed out smoke. 
     "I’m Harry,“ the boy in flannel said, smiling for the first time since I had met him. Though I was wary, part of me knew that they were genuine.
     I introduced myself. "Pretty name,” Harry smiled. “If you keep right for about then minutes until you hit the intersection, it should be right behind the cinema.”
     "If you need help,“ Louis began, handing me a small card with a number. "Just ring up and we’ll be right over." 
     "Thanks, guys,” I grinned, standing up and gathering my things. I started to take off the burgundy hoodie before Louis raised up a hand. “I’ve got more. You should really bring a jacket though, you know how moody the weather is here.” he winked and I thanked him, starting out right like Harry had suggested. 
     Like the boys had said, it took roughly ten minutes as I was waiting to cross the intersection. It was storming now, wind and hail pelting me and I pulled the hoodie tight around me.
     "You’re the most beautiful thing!“ I heard behind me, yet I ignored and kept my chin up and face alert. "Pretty girl, do you want me to keep you warm?” The voice grew louder as I grasped the phone in my pocket. That was when a hand landed on my shoulder, and I jumped in the air, scared. I turned to see an ugly man in a construction worker uniform. I pulled away from him. “Hey!” I shouted at him in the harshed voice possible, which deterred him for a moment.
     My name was called and I turned, watching Harry skate up beside me, slightly pushing the uniformed man. “Don’t disrespect her,” he growled in a husky voice, before taking my hand as he swiveled over on his board, leading me across the street. “Sorry, I should’ve walked you over,” he said in his slow drawl, licking over his lower lip. “That was stupid of me,” he gave a throaty laugh. 
     "No it wasn’t, thank you for coming over, I didn’t expect that,“ I giggled, noticing how considerate Harry was. 
     Finally, we were under the safety of the garage roof. He followed me as we arrived at my car, before he shoved his hands in his tight, skinny jean pockets. "Well, goodbye,” he began skating off.
     "Wait,“ I called after and he looked back over his shoulder, smirking. "Do you want me to get you something for helping me? We could grab some tea, if you’d like." 
     He walked over, biting his cherry lips and looking down with piercing green eyes that I hadn’t noticed until under the parking lot light. "So a fit, clean sweetheart like you wants to take a tattooed, smoking stranger you met at a skate park behind an alley on a date?” He grinned. 
     "You’re nice, though, and you’re no stranger anymore.“ I smiled. "I take that as a yes?" 
     "How could I say no to a girl who wears floral Keds in the ghetto?” He put his skateboard in the trunk of my car, climbing in the passengers seat, as I told him to take control of the radio, where we listened to and playfully sung along for a while.
      “Your friends are really sweet,” I complimented.
      “They may be dipshits, but they’re like family,” he smiled.“Wow, this is a nice car,” he patted the dashboard. 
     "If you say so, it’s just a Mazda,“ I giggled, "with a little teddy bear,” I pointed to the small bear I got as a Christmas gift that hung around the mirror. 
     "Well, when you get around by strictly walking or skating, cars like this look nice,“ he chuckled as we pulled out on the streets. 
     "My parents got it for me, tired of me missing the bus I guess. What about your parents? What do they do?” I attempted conversation, pulling in the parking lot and turning off the car.
     "Dunno, never met my dad, and my mom recently lost her job,“ he said bitterly. "Can’t have daddy buy me fancy cars like you, babe, we can barely hold down the house as is,” he halfheartedly forced a laugh, looking out the window which was too thick in fog to see anything.
     "Sorry, Harry,“ I said sincerely. "If you and your mom ever need a place, my house has a guest bedroom,”
      “‘course you do,” he snorted before turning to face me as a turned off the car. “Thanks, love," 
     His green orbs looked down at my lips then back up to meet my eyes. He suavely reached out, taking my hand in his before leaning in and kissing me gently, pulling away after just one to make sure it was acceptable. The faint trace of smoke lingered, mixed with his natural scent. "I just had too,” he looked away shyly, unbuckling the belt and tried to pull his hand away, but I held on. 
     It was my turn, returning the kiss before slowly moving away, warmth of our lips hovering. “I just had to, too." 
     Pushing into me, I let my passion pour out to him, synchronized lips moving in a wanting rhythm, picking up as we got more desperate to hold each other. His tongue licked over my lower lip, asking for entrance, before he gave a light nibble, letting me squeak before his tongue moved inside my mouth.
     Moving towards him, he let his back rest against the seat while I climbed over skillfully, straddling him and letting our tongues battle inside my mouth, his hand wrapped protectively around my back while the other tangled inside my hair, tugging at the strands feverishly. 
     My fingers curled around the hem of his shirt, letting him shrug off the flannel while the black muscle tee was tight around his muscles. I pulled it over his head, revealing his toned chest. He pulled out of my mouth, sucking on my neck and behind my ears, trailing small lovebites all over me while he held me close, our bodies touching close while thunder cracked overhead, our heavy breaths hard to hear over the sound of the pelting drops crashing against the outside of the car–almost as vigorously as Harry and I made out. 
      Feeling his bulge begin to grow beneath me, I raised my arms, letting Harry bring my tanktop and hoodie over my head at the same time, leaving my in my bra, where his strong hands roamed around, massaging me perfectly without being too harsh. His lips kissed my cleavage, hair tickling me as he began to unclasp it from behind, letting it fall to the footboard. 
     He whispered my name, looking up to meet my eyes. "You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” My heart fluttered, lust mixing with the adrenaline of the few found feelings for Harry making me move around him with even more grace and skill–wanting him to get the best version of me. His tongue swirled my nipple, pulling it and sucking on me while he rubbed my other tit, letting me moan his name. 
     Harry played with my sore nipples with his mouth while letting himself slip his hands down the back of my leggings, feeling my bum and using his thumbs to guide my hips, grinding down against his hard on while I made small circles, enough to tease and give little friction as he became more desperate for me.
     My name fell from his lips as he bucked his hips into mine, fingers rolling down my leggings to my thong, his hands slipping under. I took the handle on the chair, letting the seat slide back as far as it could while I ripped my leggings off, kneeling while I helped him out of his skinny jeans that made his cock ache with pain. He unsheathed it, gasping and face blushing as I watched his length stand tall, hitting his stomach. 
     I gave it two tugs, as Harry grabbed my hair, leading me as he flushed pink, inked skin beading sweat as our intense body heat got trapped inside the car. The curly haired boy brought my mouth to him, which I wrapped my lips to surround his dick eagerly. 
     Harry moaned my name, and I hummed around him, placing my hands against his thighs as I worked him back and forth. He kicked the car, the warm wetness proving to be too much as I hallowed my cheeks, letting my tongue take over my running over the slit, allowing the salty precum flavor fill me. “Oh my g–f-fuck, babe!” He cried, letting his ab muscles clench. “So close,”
     I pulled off him with a pop, watching him fall back against the seat with a loud gasp. I rose from my spot, hovering my panties over him. His fingers made their way to lazily brush my clit. I threw myself chin over his shoulder, as if to say take me. "Harry! Yes, Harry, please,“ 
     "You’re so wet for me,” I could almost hear his charming smirk from where I groaned, nose pressed into his shoulder. “It’s so sexy, you’re sexy," 
     Harry thrusted his hips up for friction, the need for release making him quiver and pant, sweaty before even pounding into me. He hooked his thumbs around the thin, soaked fabric and tossed them into the drivers seat.
     "Babe,” He began. 
     "In the glove box, Harry,“ I finished for him, leaning forward to give him room as he fumbled in the glove box, taking out a condom that was prelubed for us. 
     I unwrapped it with my teeth, rolling it down onto his length, his chest heaving as he whispered my name, my eyes meeting his dark green. "You’re sure about his?" 
     I kissed his lips hungrily but lovingly. "Positive, Harry,” I propped myself on my knees, having him align himself before cautiously shoving the head inside me, stretching me as we moaned together, sounds of the storm outside only adding to the ecstasy. “Fuckin’ hell," 
     Sinking down, he filled me completely with his hard cock as his face scrunched up beautifully as he panted out my name repeatedly, holding my sides, attaching his lips to whatever part of me it could reach while I lifted my body, then falling back down onto his length. My eyes watered slightly, the thick initial pain blurring my mind into the pleasure of having his dick and affection took it’s place.
     "Shit, love–” Harry cried as I bobbed myself up and down fast with fervor. He bit down hard against my neck, I could tell he was close again. Warmth moved down my torso, giving me a shiver. I was as close as him. I let my eyelids flutter shut as I arched my back. 
     "Oh Harry, Harry!“ I shouted loudly. 
     "Let me hear you, babe,” he commanded and I obeyed, shouting his name at the top of my lungs. “I’m gonna-” he groaned breathlessly. 
      “Cum for me, Harry-” I felt him thrash slightly, as he released into the condom, the heat flooding around inside me. He shouted at the white streams kept coming, his curly hair ratted fro being repeatedly thrown against the headrest. 
      I couldn’t focus anymore, I arched my back and crashed against the dashboard, Harry’s cock still in me as I clenched around it, coming for the inked boy in front of me. “HARRY!” I screamed, shuddering as I rolled my hips down into his dick, pushing it balls deep as he helped me ride my orgasm.
      Harry pulled out of me, leaving me empty as I reached forward to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “You were so good for me, love,” he told me, gently kissing my lips, too weak to do much else. 
      He discarded the condom, tossing out the window into the lighting storm. “Harry, that’s littering!” I curled into him, clutching his damp chest.
      “You met me in a skatepark downtown, love,” his accent said with a husky chuckle. 
      “It feels like I’ve known you forever, though,” I giggled, nuzzling into him. 
      “Do you still want a milkshake, or should we drive back to meet my mum? She can make some wicked sweets for us." 
     "One date and I’m meeting your mum? What an honor, Harry,” I met his lips again. 
     "But we should wait for the storm to pass,“ Harry smirked, mischievous charm already returned to normal. "Get in the back,” he commanded.





     

     

     

   


     

 
 

25 Days Of Buckymas - #3 - It‘s Christmas

25 Days Of Buckymas - you’re a huge fan of Christmas Song ‘Merry Christmas Everybody’ by Slade. Bucky didn’t mind the song that much at first, until you started playing it and listening to it every chance you could.

This is an early christmas present to questionmymentality for always being there to get me through the day

You were returning home after going Christmas shopping with Bucky. Both of you had been quite late on getting everyone a gift which meant you got stuck in the aggravating madness that seemed to take hold of other christmas shoppers, hence why you’d asked Bucky to go with you because you figured he could be like your bodyguard.

On the drive back home you were blasting out your favourite christmas song, ‘Merry Christmas Everybody’ by Slade. It was a song you’d come to love every Christmas season and so you knew all the lyrics for it. The only problem was that, in Bucky’s opinion, you played the song too much.

In your shared apartment he couldn’t think of a moment in December when he hadn’t heard the song. You had it stuck in your head so you were always singing it either loudly or just under your breath, and when you weren’t singing it, it was your ring tone. It was your alarm. It was the song you played whilst having a shower. It was your Christmas song and seen as it was the month of Christmas, it only seemed right that it be played as many times as possible. Bucky didn’t agree though, and he finally made this clear as he let out an angry growl and jabbed at the radio controls in order to put it on another channel, stopping you just as you were yelling out ‘everybody’s having fun’.

You looked to him with a glare, “what the hell Bucky?” You groaned, reaching out to go back onto the bluetooth option so you could carry on playing the song on repeat on your phone.

But Bucky was tired. He’d just had to act as a bodyguard and deal with crazed people who wanted the same pair of shoes that you’d gone to grab as a gift for Natasha, the last thing he wanted to deal with after that was that damn song. “Don’t you dare change it back.”

“Why?” You groaned, turning to face your full body towards him even though he kept his eyes fixed on the road, his annoyance still quite clear on his face. “It’s almost Christmas, and we all know the best part about Christmas is the songs!”

“I didn’t know that, thanks for telling me, still, don’t change it back.”

Now you were glaring at him from the passenger seat, crossing your arms over your chest and huffing. “You’re a real Grinch, you know that?”

“I don’t know what that is.” He said, reminding you that there were still plenty of Christmas movies he needed to catch up on. And even though you were in a mood at him for halting your jolly Christmas spirit, you still decided that whilst wrapping presents tonight you’d put the Grinch on for Bucky. “All I’m saying is that if I have to listen to that song one more time, I’m going to get Tony to invent a time machine and take me back so I can go and kill whoever created it.”

“Well that seems a bit extreme James,” you mumbled, imagining the whole thing going down in your head.

He shrugged his shoulders in response, “I’m just saying.”

In the end you resigned to sighing loudly and putting your phone away, allowing Bucky to take control of the radio stations and eventually he settled on ‘Folding Stars’ by Biffy Clyro. After about a minute he seemed to get into the song and begin to tap his hand against the steering wheel.

An idea popped into your head as the rhythm of the music got into your head and then you were grinning wickedly, looking at Bucky with a evil glint in your eye. “Christmas time. Christ-mas-time. Christmas tiiiime. Chriiiistmas tiiiiime. Christ-mas-time.” You began to sing, using the tune to the Biffy Clyro song as a guide for how you sang out the words.

Bucky frowned instantly, staring at you for a split second so he could show you just how much he hated you in that moment before turning back to look at the road. “Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” He growled, “you’re ruining the song for me.” You shrugged and carried on singing, your voice getting louder and louder, your original song ‘Christmas Time’ gaining and losing syllables when the melody demanded it.  

Bucky returned to slamming his hand against the multiple buttons of the radio until he turned it off completely, “no more music now! We’re going to sit in silence until we get home and then-”

“And then you’re going to send me to my room?” You laughed out, noting how his scolding was very reminiscent of a father yelling at their child.

“I’m thinking about it.” He said under his breath but thanks to the silence of the car that he had caused, you could hear it.

“Okay I’m sorry,” you said through your chuckles, putting up your hands as though to claim surrender. “Can we at least put on the radio station that plays Christmas songs?” He didn’t reply at first and so you leaned closer against him, rubbing your head against his shoulder. “Pleeeeeease.”

“Fine, what channel is it on?” He gave in to your wish but he apparently didn’t trust you with controls over the radio because he was the one turning it back on and pressing buttons. Eventually he found it and the song playing was ‘All I Want For Christmas’ so Bucky allowed it to play.

And when the car reached a red light, just like you’d been hoping all along, the familiar voice screamed out ‘IT’S CHRISTMAAAAS’, and Bucky’s reaction was to slam his head into the steering wheel and allow the horn to beep out his rage.

anonymous asked:

What all can i do right now to help the whole no control and award show thing? I'm lost with all these different things coming up.

It is very confusing, isn’t it? Here are a few things you can do:

  1. Sign up to the official thunderclap! This will make a post about the single on all social media accounts you connect, at the same time as everyone else tomorrow. We have a social reach of almost 50 million already, but every bit counts!
  2. Put No Control on repeat on Spotify! You don’t even have to listen to it for it to count, just turn your volume down.
  3. Vote for it! You can vote for No Control as billboard’s 2015 Summer Song here. I’m not entirely sure if voting is closed or not yet, but there’s no harm in it. No Control is NOT listed as one of the options, so you have to choose ‘Other’ and type One Direction, “No Control”
  4. Tweet about it! There are a lot of their songs on the billboard 24 hour charts, and by pressing the twitter button next to the songs, you can tweet about the song in two clicks. But any other way to tweet about No Control, and the rest of FOUR, is fine too!
  5. Request it at radio stations. Each radio station has a different way to request the song, and we want to keep moving onto other stations once they’ve played it, so I wont be linking to anything here. Keep a good eye out for posts about it. Join in, even if it’s not in your area. The posts you find should make it straightforward as to what you should tweet and who you should tweet it at! [Keep in mind, we don’t want to drown the presenters in requests, so if you check their mentions and it’s basically all No Control, maybe pass on that one]
  6. Shazam it! Use the Shazam mobile app to ‘Shazam’ the song. So basically download the app, and let it listen to a small recording of No Control, so it identifies the song. That’s all you need to do. I know that one of the local radio stations in my area does a countdown of the top songs on Shazam that day, so it’s an indirect way of getting the song some air time!
  7. Buy the song on Itunes after the thunderclap! The thunderclap signifies when we’ve ‘released’ the single, so after that point we want to amp up the promo even more, and this includes mass buying the song. If you cannot afford to buy the song, diggingandfluff has organised a way for fans to gift the single to other fans. You can find out more on their tumblr, and I highly recommend it! Alternatively, if you have money to spare and you think you can afford to gift the song to a few fans, you can sign up for that too. If you can’t afford the song, don’t hesitate to sign up. Apparently there are a lot more sponsors that recipients. Here is the link to be sponsored, and here is the link to become a sponsor. [You DO need an Itunes account for this]
  8. Create content for the single! This means making videos, cover art, or anything, to promote the single. Get your creative juices flowing, and post it online!
  9. Make your own posts! If you find information about where people can vote for No Control, or you know about a radio station that’s taking requests, tell people! If you’re nervous about not having enough followers to spread it around, ask one of the larger blogs and we would be more than happy to help.
  10. Spread it around! If you see a post talking about the single, about it trending on charts, reblog it! If you see a post spreading information about requesting it at radio stations, reblog it! If you see some fan art or fan made videos, reblog it! If you see any type of post like this, spreading links around, reblog it! Reblog everything! The same goes for twitter!
3

World War II drones and the death of Joseph Kennedy Jr,

The Kennedy family is perhaps the most iconic American family in all of history, with nine brothers and sisters who mostly all reached positions of power, fame, and influence.  The most popular of the Kennedy’s was John F. Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States, who was slain by an assassin’s bullet in 1963.  However, it was originally the eldest brother, Joseph Jr, who was to be destined to take such a high office.  Weird as it sounds, the Kennedy patriarch, Joseph Sr, had groomed the first born of the family from the start to achieve greatness in life, even to the point that becoming President was to be his destiny. Imagine the pressure of having to live up to such expectations.  Most American families want their children to be successful doctors, lawyers, and scientists, Joe Kennedy Sr was really dreaming big, but he was a man who had the kind of connections to make such things happen.

Joe Kennedy Sr was the first born of the family, born in 1915.  He studied at Harvard Law school and planned to run for Congress after he graduated, one of the first steps of his political career and rise to the top.  However when the United States entered into World War II, Joe put everything aside and volunteered for combat duty with the United States Navy as a pilot.  After completing two tours of duty and 25 combat missions, he was eligible to return home but instead chose to volunteer for a dangerous secret mission called Operation Aphrodite.  The goal of Operation Aphrodite was to turn a number of B-17 bombers into remote controlled drones for use against hardened bunkers and other structures.  The B-17 bombers, most of which were old clunkers well passed their optimum life time, were outfitted with a special radio control system so that they could be piloted remotely.  The bombers were then crammed full of  high explosives (around 30,000 lbs)  and remotely piloted to their targets.  

One of the many problems with this was that the remote control system was that it was not advanced enough to control a plane during takeoff.  Thus a pilot would start and takeoff the plane, and once in the air bailout with a parachute.  This was Joe Kennedy’s job when he piloted a drone on the morning of August 12th, 1944.  Once in the air, Kennedy and his co-pilot, Wilford John Willy   were to arm the explosives then bail out, after which another pilot in a chase plane would take control by radio device.  Upon arming the explosives, the B-17 immediately exploded with a massive blast.  Him and his co-pilot were instantly vaporized, and all that was left of their plane was small pieces of wreckage scattered across the English countryside.  The cause of the premature explosion is unknown, although many theories were proposed by a board of inquiry.  Joe Kennedy was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross, Distinguished Service Cross, and Air Medal. Operation Aphrodite was mostly a failure, as the majority of the drones were shot down or crashed before striking their targets.

The death of Joe Kennedy was the first of many terrible tragedies that would haunt the Kennedy family in the upcoming decades.  The loss of Joe Sr’s firstborn son also put a wrench on his future family plans.  The next up to the plate was John, who was now the eldest son and also a decorated war hero.  John would take the place of Joe, being groomed by the family to be the most successful of the family, and of course becoming President as Joe Sr intended.