tap phoning

Playing With Fire

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Based on: Playing with Fire - Thomas Rhett

Word Count: 798

Warnings: drinking, angst, cursing, implied smut

Originally posted by adoringjensen

Dean was on his way home from a hunt, Sam riding shotgun and already trying to find another case for them. The younger Winchester didn’t notice when Dean took a slight detour, passing by the house he’d spent many a night in, tangled in sheets, sweaty and grinding against her.

They pulled up to the bunker and climbed out of the car, Sam heading straight for bed while Dean popped open the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass. Pulling out his phone, he began looking for a distraction, anything to get his mind off of her.

Scrolling through his phone, he found her name again, his finger hovering over the highlighted words. 

“Fuck it.” He muttered, the pad of his thumb gently tapping the contact, phone dialing her number.

When she answered, the conversation was short. Two words from him, in the form of a question, followed by a single, simple word answer from her. The he was on his way to her place. Again.

As his headlights bounced off her house, he caught a glimpse of her shadow through the curtains upstairs. Shutting down the Impala, he ripped the keys from the ignition and headed for the door. He didn’t need to be let in, he knew where the key was - hiding under the mat. 

“Not safe.” He mumbled, making a mental note to tell her to move it later.


Another week rolled by, and he found himself at the little dive bar where they’d met. He knew she’d be there. She always was.

“Hey there.” Her voice came from behind him. 

Spinning, he saw her grinning at him, hair pulled half up and the rest billowing down over the cut shoulders of one of his shirts. 

Damn, she looked good. 

“How much longer are you planning on staying?” She sank onto the stool beside him.

“Finish this drink, then I’m heading out.” He lifted his bottle.

“My house?” She smirked, sipping her own drink.

“I… I don’t think so. Not tonight.” He shook his head, licking his lips and waiting for the worst.

“Did I do something wrong?” She leaned back and looked him over, furrowing her brow. 

“No, no. Not at all. I just… Maybe we should stop?” He winced at his own words.

He didn’t want to stop. Of course he didn’t. But he was afraid of what was happening. He was falling for her, and that terrified him.

“Stop? Stop. Okay…” She fished in her pocket and dropped a few bills on the counter, enough to cover her only drink, and then strutted toward the door, catching the eye of a few men on her way out. 

One of them followed her before Dean had the chance to go after her. Then he heard her yelling through the open doors. He sprinted for the parking lot, running to her and catching her as the ugly son of a bitch who went after her shoved her to the ground.

“You better get the hell out of here, buddy. If you know what’s good for you.” Dean glared up at the man.

He scoffed and spun on his heel, heading back into the bar to go after some other poor girl. 

“Didn’t have to follow me.” She mumbled, pushing herself up off and away from him, then brushing the gravel from her hands and backside.

“I heard you yelling. I wasn’t just going to leave you out here on your own.” He explained.

“Well… you should have. I thought we were stopping.” She mocked his tone.

Dean crashed his lips into hers and pushed her back against the trunk of his car. Between kisses, he murmured against her lips, “Does this seem like I want to stop?” 

She reached around and fumbled for the handle of the back door, opening it and climbing inside, pulling Dean with her. As she arched up into him, he rolled his hips against her, the two of them knowing exactly what the other needed.


Waking up next to her, Dean leaned over and kissed her forehead before leaving the bed.

“Stay for breakfast.” She groaned sleepily.

Dean flinched, his whole body jumping when she spoke. He knew he shouldn’t, knew that if he stayed, he would only come to love her more. When he turned back to look at her, the tiny smile on her face was enough to pull him back. So what if he got burned? So what if this could end at any second and he’d be crushed? Right now, this was what he wanted, and he’d be damned if he was going to let one more good thing get out of his grasp. He’d fucked up enough times to know that playing with fire will get you burned, but maybe he liked the scars.


Keep reading

The Signs as THAT Bitch™ antics
  • Aries: fake nails tapping against a phone screen while typing
  • Taurus: buying new shoes to go with your new outfit
  • Gemini: uploading killer selfies when your ex comes online
  • Cancer: turning on read receipts when ignoring someone
  • Leo: putting in your earphones when an asshole tries to talk to you
  • Virgo: showing up to a casual event looking editorial as fuck
  • Libra: leaving a party early to go fuck someone
  • Scorpio: saving screenshots just in case
  • Sagittarius: pretending to not know about certain drama in order to get more details
  • Capricorn: publicly outing someone as a cheater/liar
  • Aquarius: talking shit about someone who is six feet away from you
  • Pisces: rolling your eyes/ giving someone THAT look

By the way, controlling your kids or invading their privacy past a certain point makes you abusive.

*This stuff especially affects LGBT kids*

It’s makes me so sad like imagine all of those Trans kids out there who can’t reach out or find info or support because their parents monitor their internet activity and they’re transphobic. One of my good friends in Highschool was outed as Trans and her parents called her disgusting.

Imagine kids with depression who can’t talk to their friends for support because their parents have their phones tapped and messed up shit like that.

My little stepsisters mom has her phone tapped and she’s not allowed to talk to boys. She’s fucking 12.

It seems to be becoming more and more commonplace. When I was like 15 all of my friends parents were like that and me being the little bi kid I was, I was friends with a lot of other LGBT kids and almost all of them had abusive ass parents and it was very hard for them to not be outed. We were fifteen year olds and if these kids would have been outed, they’d be kicked out on the street best case scenario. And that’s a whole different topic but for gods sake let your kids have their privacy.

It makes it extremely hard for kids with depression or LGBT kids or any teen with a problem that they can’t come to you about, to reach out and get help. Sometimes kids don’t want to tell you every single thing, sometimes they want to seek other support first before coming to you idfk. If I wouldn’t have had the support of being able to talk to friends and have online support during my depression I would’ve been fucked man.

Please
Stop
Normalizing
Abusive
Behaviour.

Please, let your kids have their privacy. When you do that shit it just pushes your kids away not to mention its abusive. Just stop

People keep wondering if the latest Trump outburst is a clever ploy to distract the country from whatever piece of bad news is currently vexing the administration. But the one who’s easily distractible is the president himself, and then he in turn distracts his staff and congressional allies. Just look at what’s happening with his accusation that President Barack Obama tapped his phones. On impulse, after reading an article on a white nationalist website, Trump levels a ludicrous and baseless charge, then everyone in the White House has to pretend that it’s serious and legitimate, and they’re forced to answer questions about it for weeks. All that time could be spent advancing an affirmative agenda.
 
 

Because he can never admit that he was wrong, Trump drags the issue out endlessly, just as he did with earlier iterations of this pattern, about the size of his inaugural crowd or the millions of phantom illegal votes that led to his popular vote loss (I’d encourage you to read the transcript of his Wednesday interview with Tucker Carlson and marvel at the fact that this man is actually president of the United States). That then makes life difficult for Republicans in Congress, who are put in the awkward position of either defending the latest bit of stupidity issuing from the Oval Office or being honest about how ridiculous it is, which they know would win them the president’s ire.

Morning Mumbles

Things I imagine them saying in the morning.
Viktor: (To Yuuri) “Do you have any idea where I put my shirt? Or my anything?”
Yuuri: (To Viktor) “Vik*wheeze*tor, you’re crushing me.”
Leo: (To Guang Hong) “To be honest, I didn’t even know you were laying on me.”
Guang Hong: (To Leo) “You look really pretty in the mornings,”
Phichit: (To Seung-Gil) “What’s the best way we can maneuver so I still get to cuddle you but I can still be on my phone?”
Seung-Gil: (To Phichit) “I can hear the sound of you tapping your phone, Phichit.”
Michele: (To Emil) “You’re really warm, stop trying to get out of bed and stay.”
Emil: (To Michele) “You’re always so clingy in the mornings.”

Slytherin Habits

- Routine. Slytherins tend to do the same things each day. Although they are very adaptable, if left to their own devices, they get carried away doing stupid things. So they take a shower every night, let the dog out when they get home, etc. Small things provide comfort in an otherwise stressful world. 

- Personal Appearance. Slytherins make sure they get up early enough to take a shower, shave, moisturize, put on makeup, lay out clothes. But usually, they don’t go above and beyond this. No way am I about to curl my hair if it means I have to get up at 5:00 in the morning. 

- Fidgeting. Slytherins take out pent-up nerves, anxiety, or energy by playing with their pen, cracking their knuckles, playing with their phone case, tapping their foot, and it gets annoying to the people around them. But honestly, they don’t notice they’re doing it. 

- Scrutinizing their Appearance. Personally, I tend to always be self-conscious of the fat on my thighs, how skinny my hands look (because my fingers used to look like sausages), how I can possibly get into the school carrying all of my bags and not look like a penguin. And they beat themselves up over small things and don’t even realize that they’re doing it because it happens so often. It’s not easy for a Slytherin to love themselves. 

- Judging. Although some may consider this bad, Slytherins scrutinize details about everyone and everything. They’re constantly comparing themselves to others. “At least I’m smarter/skinnier/prettier/nicer than her”. 

- Paranoia. Slytherins are the most paranoid people out there. The ones who jump when someone brushes against them in the hallway, don’t like eating around others they don’t feel comfortable with, likes to sit with their back to a wall for no good reason, and know when somebody walks into the room. 

you know something i really love? tony’s touch screen devices. more specifically, how they can execute tremendously complex and specific tasks with very little input

like oh. choose This Option in the menu, tap the phone twice, voila. you have commandeered a screen being used by some high profile government committee. tap the wristwatch a couple of times, and press this one button? congratulations, you have hacked into the security profile of a supermax facility

i mean do you understand how much prior work probably goes into this shit? tony and his all-purpose hacking buttons?? i fucking love it. it’s so fucking fake. it’s “i invented self-sustaining clean energy using scraps in a cave” and “i hacked into the pentagon in high school on a dare” and “i have an AI that literally casually compiles confidential information from SHIELD, FBI, and CIA because i asked” levels of super fake. it’s unadulterated superhero bullshit and holy fuck i love it

Listen I have been in direct action focused activist groups that were specifically infiltrated. I have sat and had breakfast with and shared intel etc with people who turned out to be cops. I am not saying this is not a threat because it is and it’s one that I have personally run up against and had to deal with. I know the people everyone avoids in Montreal because of the rumors that they’re cops. I know the people who I personally have suspicions about. I have had my phone tapped and surveillance photos taken of my apartment building. It’s a thing, it’s scary, and we do need to talk about it and deal with it.

But I feel like this current climate of heightened paranoia is like, a lot of kids’ first experiences with actually realizing that infiltrators are a thing, and so a lot of people are just using this concept like their new word of the week, and it’s weird and counterproductive and just honestly annoying. Not everyone who disagrees with you about whether or not asexuality is LGBT is an undercover cop or alt-right plant. Like. Please go outside and actually do some shit, I don’t care what, just like, talk to people about this instead of acting like because you read a mother jones article you’re an expert on picking out provocateurs now. 

5

click the images to read the text!!
because i didnt want to make a long post ^^;

this is actually sort of a ficlet i’ve had sitting for so long now, i decided to just bahhh put it out there.

i’m gonna put the script under the cut for those who use screen reader-things, and pretty much just to make it easier for some :3

Keep reading

  • Winn: Umm....Kara? Why is Lena Luthor flirting with you?
  • Kara: What? She's not FLIRTING with me. She's just really sweet.
  • Winn: Half her texts to you are dorky pickup lines that I'd probably use.
  • Kara: How have you been reading our texts?
  • Winn: Uhhh.....*glances at Alex*
  • Alex: You're on your own. *walks away*
  • Winn: I may have.....tapped Lena's phone. But it was because of project Medusa!
  • Kara: That threat is over. Why are you still reading our messages?
  • Winn: I may be taking notes. They're really good pickup lines!
  • Kara: *glares*
  • Winn: Okay. I'll stop.