tell the one about him getting tossed

DAI Companions React To: My Immortal

So it’s late and Mod Katalyna, Mod Tiarne, and Mod Sarah were fucking around on Skype (again) and we questioned what would happen if the Inquisition companions somehow got access to My Immortal and then this happened. Mods Are Cray. Enjoy.

Cassandra: She’s disgusted and goes on about how awful it is and refers to it only as garbage. She’s found re-reading it inexplicably out of so much disgust she’s interested.

Blackwall: He laughs his ass off at it and tried to play the drinking game with Bull and passes out before the end of the third chapter.

Iron Bull: He laughs at every fucking word. He loves playing the drinking game with it and both he and Blackwall always end up with the worst hangovers after.

Sera: She thinks this is the funniest fucking thing in the world to her. She re-reads it and cackles every time, laughing so hard it echoes through Skyhold. She leaves snippets of it (the worst parts) in places as pranks (usually around Vivienne and Dorian, the tale’s worst critics) and quotes it ironically.

Varric: He’s full-on sobbing with laughter (silent laughter at some points), wheezing and clapping his hands like a walrus with glee. It takes tremendous effort and time to finish it because he’s pretty sure he’ll stop breathing if he laughs any harder. He does dramatic readings in the tavern, often with Blackwall, Sera, and Bull among his audience, all sobbing with laughter.

Cole: He’s so confused by the different reactions to it and have no idea what’s going on. “Why does Ebony hate everyone? They just want to help.“ he asks. “Stop trying to analyze it, Cole!” everyone else tells him.

Dorian: One of two things could happen. Either he sets it on fire the second he understood what horror was before him, or he reads it, laughs, and gets drunk, and then burns it. Depends on how he’s feeling.

Solas: He takes one glance on the inside and tosses it up to Dorian, who he fully expects to burn it. He refuses to comment or acknowledge its existence.

Vivienne: Burns it and sends a very sternly worded letter to the author about their writing skills. She gets a response calling her a prep and is told to stop flaming.

Leliana: She hunts down every copy and destroys it. Her birds are trained to collect it and destroy it. Or just spontaneously shit on it.

Josephine: She refuses to comment. She could not remain composed if forced to comment. She has a lot of feelings about the fic but refuses to let them out because they’re all negative.

Cullen: He pretends it doesn’t exist and ignores any reference to it.

Krem: He reads it out of curiosity because Bull won’t stop laughing. He almost vomits at how bad it is.

Let me speak to your manager

My first job was at a trampoline park when I was 18. Which is its own monster in the customer service industry. I worked my way to the top within 4 months and became a manager. I was the youngest manager at the company and never looked like one to being with. Which was a blessing and a curse depending on the situation. Anyways, the CEO of the company made it clear in our weekly meetings to give 0 refunds and to never hand out anything for free. Since we had issues with previous managers handing out free items to calm customers down. Now you can imagine the anger when we tell a customer, no. Especially over a refund.

One night while we were beginning to close an employee tossed out a customer’s melted icee to put up chairs on the tables. An older man comes down from the trampoline area, and begins to yell at my employee about the icee being thrown away. I immediately walk up to my employee and tell her to continue cleaning while I talk to the gentleman about his $2.50 melted icee.

He turns red in the face yelling that we have no regard for his children and his well spent money. His children then walk behind him and get in on the belittlement, yelling with him about a refund for the $2.50. He “demanded” I give him 3 free icees to compensate for the one which was thrown out. After continuing to tell him no, he screams, “I WANT TO SPEAK TO THE MANAGER”.

A smile cracks on my face to hear those magic words. I calmly reply, “sir, I am the manager”. Both him and his children are jaw dropped, he becomes belligerent, yelling “OH YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME”. I tell him I can no longer help him and walk away to assist with closing.

Nothing more gratifying than hearing, “let me speak to your manager” to only reply with, “I am the manager”.

everyone is gay: the musical // magnus & even, t+

aka: magnus has an awakening and even is unfortunate enough to be near it.
(for ceecee aka @westiris, thank u for supporting my impulsiveness love u)

“I gotta ask you something.”

Magnus blurts it out over lunch one day when it’s just him and Even sitting at the table. Even doesn’t even have to look up from his phone to know that Magnus is staring intently at him, hands in his lap as he waits for Even to tell him, “go ahead, lay it on me, I’m a human search engine.”

“What’s up, Magnus,” he all but sighs instead, tossing his phone onto the table.

Magnus doesn’t even hesitate before beginning with “So you’re bisexual,” and Even’s patience is already compromised.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

136 and 48 for Yondu please :)

Characters: Reader x Yondu Udonta

Warnings: mentions of nightmares

Prompts: 48: “We’ve become the clingy couple that you used to complain about.” 136: “You had a nightmare, tell me what it was about so I can fix it.”

Word Count: 300

A/N: first Yondu request !!

Want to request a drabble? Read this post [x]

You stared blankly out the window as the crew rushed around the ship. You were so spaced out you hadn’t heard Yondu call your name for the third time.

“y/n.” he grabbed your shoulder, and you jolted. You looked up at him and tried to plaster on a smile, but you didn’t fool him. He sat down besides you and you leaned on his shoulder, and he put an arm around you. “What’s wrong, honey?” 

“Nothing.” you muttered, and Yondu scoffed.

“You had a nightmare, tell me what it was about so I can fix it.” he said, and you looked up at him. He shrugged nonchalantly. “You kept tossing and turning in your sleep.”

“It’s okay, Yondu.” you leaned back into his chest. “I’ll get over it.” 

“Nah, I don’t want you to mope around like this.” he took your chin in his hand and lifted it up. “I wanna see you smile again.” 

You giggled a bit, and Yondu grinned triumphantly. One of the crew members called his name and Yondu turned around and waved him away.

“I don’t want to distract you from your work.” you said a little guiltily, and Yondu shrugged.

“You distract me everyday with you’re beauty.” he gave you a wide grin, and you gave him a shove but blushed. “I wanna spend time with you.” 

“Oh, Yondu,” you laughed. “We’ve become the clingy couple that you used to complain about.”

“Well I don’t mind being clingy if it means I get to be with you.” he shrugged, getting to his feet. He offered you his hand and pulled you up, and took your face in his hands. “Feelin’ better?” 

“Much better.” you reassured him, and he took your hand as the two of you walked towards the cockpit of the ship.

lookforanewangle  asked:

Shatt! ;)

I GOT THREE OF THESE ALREADY.  Oh my original love, so glad people are still here for it.

Who said “I love you” first?

Shiro.  Matt mostly doesn’t say it outright still, because he’s a little shit.  He’d much rather call Shiro ‘Starshine’ and doodle on his natural arm and leave him sticky notes telling him his butt looks good in his armor.  Same thing, right?  Totally.  

(He does say it, but it’s in the quiet of the night, when the lights are off and everything feels muffled and slightly unreal.  Then Matt can say it without fear.  The rest of the time he makes do)

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background?

Matt.  They are all terrible pictures, and he will NOT let Shiro at his phone, because he would delete them.  It’s damn hard to get a properly ugly picture of Shiro, and but Matt’s perfected the art.

Currently, it’s a picture of him first thing in the morning.  He’d been telling Matt to stop chattering before he was awake enough to respond, and he started to sneeze right as Matt took the picture.  It’s his pride and joy.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror?

Shiro.  It’s only on occasion, and it’s a toss-up if it’s something sweet or something ridiculous.  One time it wasn’t intentional: a thought had occurred to him about a calculation he’d been doing for flying one of the little escape jets on board.  In an effort to get it out of his head, Shiro started to write the equations out on the mirror.  About two thirds of the way through, he stopped to go get a pad and pen since it was starting to face, and found Matt finishing it up in his absence.  

Who buys the other cheesy gifts?

Matt.  He’ll get anything he thinks will make Shiro pause.  Now Shiro has a bunch of novelty items and kitsch memorabilia.   This goes double if the item in question is ugly.  There’s a lot of cross-eyed figurines in awful outfits.  Shiro keeps them, but they’re all turned to face the wall instead of his bed.  It’s a problem to wake up to their stares.

Who initiated the first kiss?

Shiro.  Matt wouldn’t stop talking to let him get a word in edgewise, and was working himself into a lather about no, he knows Shiro doesn’t feel the same, he’s not going to make it weird, it’s been the whole times so- wait, no it hasn’t, shut up, forget I said that, it’s fine, it’s just a crush-

So Shiro kissed him on the nose to startle him.  Then he asked if he could kiss him for real, because he’d wanted to do that for a long time now.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning?

Shiro. Matt would, except he never, ever wakes up before Shiro.  Because he doesn’t wake up at 6 in the goddamn morning like certain assholes.

Who starts tickle fights?

Matt.  To be fair, Shiro is asking for it when he’s being all reserved and stoic and acting like he’s above human needs like wanting to fool around and relaxing.  So Matt tickles him until Shiro’s smiling too hard to keep up the Black Paladin Seriousness and then kisses him until he agrees to take a break.

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower?

Matt.  He has a very effective seduction technique that involves nearly slipping and falling on his face, holding onto Shiro and then trying to play it off as smooth.  It always earns him a laugh and kisses, and usually something after, so he’s going to count it as a successful seduction.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch?

They eat together with everyone else, but Shiro brings Matt meals when he forgets them, and they eat together.  This happens less these days, but he’ll sitll occasionally lose track of time and haze out for a bit, and Shiro will stay with him until he’s fully back to himself.

Who was nervous and shy about the first date?

Matt didn’t act like it, but he was.  By this point, Shiro was pretty calm about the whole thing.  They’d basically been dating for months already, so what was the difference except titles?

Who kills/takes out the spiders?

Shiro.  Matt would climb the walls to get away from a spider.  It doesn’t help.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk?

Shiro.  Mind, he’s the one who would loudly proclaim their love anyway, but a drunken Shiro is one that clings to Matt’s side and starts telling him how gorgeous and adorable and smart he is, and then gets distracted with a very empirical study on the effects of kissing on Matt’s neck.

This would not be that strange, except he did it in front of Sam, who hasn’t let them live it down.

Pour Up

Summary: EXO Mafia AU ~ Yixing is an operative for his crime family, the Kims, and his next mission is to kidnap you, an heiress, for a ransom. He’s been doing this all his life, he’s prepared for this - or so he thinks…until he meets you.

Pairing: Yixing x You

Note: Slight influence of The Godfather

Rating: PG-13 

Tagging these honeys: @tousdae, @kpopfanfictrash, @imperfectmalik, @lxrixna, and @nine-daedreams

SPECIAL FEATURE ALERT: This is a reader-interactive fic, so in the box below, if you enter a name (yours or a character’s, for example), and click “submit”, it will swap out “Y/N” for that name. Y/L/N stands for “your last name.” None of the information entered is stored. This feature does not work on dashboard/feed/mobile app unfortunately.

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Originally posted by dailyexodose

“Care for a drink, sir?”

Yixing glances over at the waiter who’s appeared by his side with a tray of champagne flutes, and he bites back a sigh. No, he doesn’t want a drink, no matter how ridiculously expensive and perfectly aged – but he has to keep up appearances, so he pushes off the wall that he’s been leaning against and nods, accepting a glass. Done with his job, the waiter diffuses into the crowd of people, and Yixing takes a sip, raising a brow with reluctant approval. It’s very good. But then, he expected nothing less from an event sponsored by business moguls.

He hates these kind of things – charity galas. He loves the charity…he just hates the reason they’re hosted. So the obscenely rich can flaunt their wealth and mingle with other blue bloods and pretend to care about issues that actually matter. They’re just here for the publicity. Even now, Yixing casually steps out of the frame as hired photographers snap “candid” shots of these generous benefactors opening their hearts and wallets for the betterment of humanity.


He raises the glass to his lips again and does another sweep of the place with his eyes. They’re in the ballroom of a five-star hotel and the lights are low, which is good. What’s not so good is the tight security posted at the nine exits and the cameras casting a constant, watchful eye over the whole place. There’s even a man with dark glasses and a headpiece behind the bar. Nice.

The crowd of donors doesn’t notice this, however. They’re alive and loud, people in dresses and suits worth as much as small islands, drinking and chatting and dancing on the floor to jazz music humming from hidden speakers. But Yixing is only here for one of them. His gaze lands on her and he settles back against the wall, observing.

Y/N Y/L/N. Daughter of a multimillionaire philanthropist. Her father is a pillar in the wine business, with his own line of assorted nectars demanded by a global market. Nectars. That’s what her father calls his wine. How pretentious can you get? So pretentious that he can’t even be bothered to show up apparently – which is why Y/N is here, on his behalf, and Yixing watches her expertly socialize, all charming smiles and polite physical contact. She doesn’t spend more than five minutes with each person she talks to, but they all greet her as if she’s an old childhood friend, someone dear. Even those she seems to be meeting for the first time. She’s a pro at this, that much is obvious.

Well, Yixing is a pro at his job too, and it’s time to go to work.    

Keep reading

@mac-noa honestly, this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever written, and it’s possible that for a lot of people, I missed Andrew by a long shot. This is how I see him, so I really hope you guys like him. (ao3)

Andrew followed Neil up the stairs and had two cigarettes out and lit before they walked through the rooftop access door. Neil kept walking all the way to the edge of the roof and Andrew’s stomach clenched, but he followed Neil and sat beside him. He looked at the slim cigarette between his fingers in his left hand and twisted his wrist before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the second set of keys to his new car. Neil glanced at his hand but didn’t reach out to accept they key. Andrew curled his fingers around the key before dropping it to the concrete.

“A man can only have so many issues,” Andrew said. “It’s just a key.”

“You’re a foster child. You know it isn’t” Neil said. He stroked two fingers over the key. “I’ve always had enough cash to live comfortably, but all the decent places ask too many places. There are background checks and credit checks and references, things I can’t provide on my own without leaving too much of a trail. I squatted in Millport. Before that I stayed in decrepit weekly hotels or broke into people’s cars or found places that were happy being paid under the table.”

Andrew, himself, never had the cash or the opportunity to try existing on his own. Part of him, a tiny voice deep inside him wondered what his life might have been like if he had been Neil. He immediately squashed that voice that wondered what if. What if’s didn’t matter in Andrew’s world; the only thing that mattered was reality

“It’s always been ‘go’,” Neil said. “It’s always been ‘lie’ and ‘hide’ and ‘disappear’. I’ve never belonged anywhere or had the right to call anything my own. But Coach gave me keys to the court, and you told me to stay. You gave me a key and called it home.” Neil glanced up at Andrew with a slightly wild look in his eyes. “I haven’t have a home since my parents died.”

Andrew felt something boil up inside him and he got it in a stranglehold as quickly as he could. It felt like something hot was clawing it’s way up his throat and he didn’t know if he could swallow it down. Andrew dug a finger in Neil’s cheek before pinching his cheeks and forcibly turned his head away. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not your answer, and you sure as fuck aren’t mine.”

Neil tried to turn back against Andrew’s hand but couldn’t. His cheeks were pinched together in a way that pushed his lips out and muffled his voice when he said, “I’m not looking for an answer. I just want—“

Neil gestured vaguely. “I’m tired of being nothing.”

Andrew had always felt unfathomable. There were very few people that Andrew felt could understand him. Plenty of people had tried. There came a time when you reached the end of your rope and the only thing to do was to drop off. He was acutely familiar with what the end of the rope looked like. He had dropped off long ago because after a certain amount of time clinging onto the rope with out help was excruciating. Neil was at the end of his rope and unlike Andrew; he had someone to reach out to.

“You are a Fox. You are always going to be nothing.” Andrew stubbed his cigarette out.

In a what-if world, Andrew might reach out and pull Neil closer, but it wasn’t a what-if world, was it? Bee was always telling Andrew that he could make his what-if world the real world. Andrew couldn’t do that. He was too damaged, too broken to be able to reach out. Neil was a persistent want buzzing at the back of his head, and Andrew didn’t know how to get rid of him. If he reached out, he would be uncovering a part of himself, that once uncovered, you couldn’t really hide again. God, Andrew fucking hated Neil, and he told him just that.

“Nine percent of the time you don’t.”

“Nine percent of the time, I don’t want to kill you. I always hate you.” Andrew wanted to squash him like a bug. Or maybe punch something or someone. There was this thing that was trying to crawl its way out of his throat and he didn’t know how to put a name to it.

“Every time you say that, I believe you a little less.”

“No one asked you.” Andrew caught Neil’s face in his hands to lean in to kiss him. Maybe everything that was boiling up inside him would be transferred over to the other man. Andrew wasn’t sure what he wanted. He kissed Neil with all the barely contained whatever that was roiling inside him and trying to find a way out. He slid his hands along Neil’s cheeks and brushed over his ears before slipping down so his thumbs were pressed up under Neil’s jaw and his fingers landed against the back of his neck.

Neil shifted under Andrew as his hands moved towards Andrew’s face, and Andrew mentally steeled himself for the touch. Neil’s lips faltered for a second before his hands dropped to Andrew’s jacket and fisted themselves there. Andrew started to lean back and Neil surged forward, following his lips. Andrew leaned back all the way and Neil looked at him with a dazed look in his eye and if that wasn’t the only thing that could have extinguished whatever was trying to escape him.

“Tell me no,” Andrew bit out. Neil just looked at him with that same stupid fucking expression on his face and that was enough for Andrew to completely drop back out of Neil’s space. Because Neil was too fucking stupid to tell him no. “Let go. I am not doing this with you right now.”

He pushed Neil out of the way and fumbled for a cigarette and a lighter. He wasn’t—Andrew wasn’t—there was nothing that was worth being his abusers. Neil didn’t swing and he still kissed Andrew anyway. Andrew knew all about owing people. He knew, so acutely, what someone as stupid as Neil was might do for a home. And Andrew hated him. Hated him for being so ignorant, so trusting, so goddamn lonely that—

He managed one drag before he put out the cigarette beside him. His hands were shaking and he needed to get himself under control. He jerkily shook out a third before lighting that one too. Neil reached out and snatched the cigarette from between his fingers before laying it on the ground next to his own cigarette. Andrew didn’t fucking care. He tossed the cigarettes to the side, just out of reach and pulled his knees to his chest. There was only one thing in this world that Andrew knew he couldn’t survive, and he wasn’t about to let someone who was too stupid to know his own limits let him become that.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re too stupid to tell me no,” Andrew said.

“And you don’t want me to tell you yes?” Neil asked, confused. And in some way, Andrew thought that made it worse because Neil was still too stupid to get it.

“This isn’t yes. This is a nervous breakdown. I know the difference even if you don’t. I won’t be like them. I won’t let you let me be.”

Neil opened and closed his mouth like a fish, and there was that feeling: the need to swat at him like a relentless bug because no one should be able to drag this reaction out of Andrew. Neil tried again. “The next time one of them says you’re soulless I might have to fight them.”

Andrew wanted to launch him off the side of the building. It wouldn’t take much. They were already at the edge. Just straightening out his leg and clipping Neil’s hip would be enough to send him sprawling.

“Ninety-two percent going on ninety-three.”

Neil cracked a smile. It wasn’t the one that made Andrew feel like Neil would eviscerate the next person who looked at him funny, but a real one. Andrew pretended he didn’t notice. Maybe he would throw Neil off of the side of the building and go and get Waffle House, he could go for cheesy grits and chocolate milk.

Neil grabbed the key and stood up before brushing off the seat of his pants. “Hey. Thank you.”

“Go away before I push you off the side.”

“Do it. I’d drag you with me,” Neil said with a cheerful grin before leaving.

When the door slammed back into place Andrew reached over and passed the cigarette Neil had stolen from him in favor of Neil’s cigarette. It wasn’t lit anymore but he put it between his lips anyway, remembering the way that Neil’s own lips had closed over it without inhaling. Andrew was fucked.

Shiratorizawa HCs

-So Semi and Tendou are legit called “Mama and Papa Swan” behind Semi’s back. Tendou basks in all it’s glory.
-Sometimes they argue in the middle of practice and then subsequently make out in the middle.
-Reon is a polite cinnamon roll and decent child so he turns away and pretends not to see anything.
-Yamagata covers Goshiki’s eyes.
-Shirabu gags.
-Ushijima doesn’t really know what’s going on.
-Kawanishi is a not-so-closeted fudanshi who takes tons of pictures.
-Tendou once tricked Goshiki into believing in a Volleyball Ghost in the gym by the old Fishing Rod trick.
-The poor baby was traumatized for weeks until Shirabu gave him a nice, no filtered lecture about how ghosts weren’t real and “How were you stupid enough to fall for that you dumbass?”
-Shirabu has a bad habit of staring at Ushijima when he thinks no one is looking. Staring alot. And turning red.
You can practically see the heart eyes and the drool.
-They all notice actually. Sans Ushijima of course, and well maybe Goshiki, who is the only person as dense as Ushijima.
-Tendou pops up like “Kenjirou-kunnnn~ How’s Wakatoshi-kun’s ass today?”
-Shirabu chokes and buries his face in his hands.
-They gossip in the clubrooms like “Oi, did you hear about Oikawa and Seijou’s Ace being a thing?” And “Are those two freaks #9 and #10 from Karasuno dating?”
-Reon surprisingly knows lots of gossip. They all thought he was so pure.
-Semi and Shirabu get lots of gossip from the Pretty Setter Squad ™.
-Ushijima is just kinda confused.
-Taichi just sits there and listen to all the gossip while reading one of his BL mangas.
-Taichi really isn’t even trying to be subtle about his love for BL.
-“Hey Ushijima-san, if you kiss Shirabu, I bet he’ll toss more accurately.”
-“Hmm.. If you say so Kawanishi.”
-Ushijima literally spins Shirabu and dips him and gives him a sweet short kiss.
-Shirabu is a blushing mess.
-Taichi then proceeds to take lots of pictures.
-Taichi’s phone’s gallery is pretty… packed. He also has tons of pictures of Semi because “He’s aesthetically beautiful let me enjoy his beauty.” (A.K.A. A Not so subtle crush on a taken man.)
-No one tells Semi.
-“This is why you’re single idiot.” -Yamagata.
-Yamagata SLAYS on the drums so like when he’s not playing volley, he drums.
-Reon is an amazing artist. Some even buy his art and give comissions.
-“Draw my Semisemi for me pleasee~” “I think Shirabu would be amazing to draw, wouldn’t you?” “I’d love to pose for you while I drum, sure.” “DRAW ME YAOI”
-Mention “Oikawa” or “Yahaba” and Shirabu will throw a volleyball to the person’s face. (Except of course, Ushijima.)
-“Those… incompetent foolish no good setter with no class and no strategy and-”
-“Awwww Shit-rabu don’t be jealous because Ushijima wanted Oikawa to set for him instead of you and Yahaba is more skilled than you are.” -Semi
-Glaring contest ensues.
-Goshiki hangs out alot with “Karasuno’s Chibi-chan” so he’s picked up a few of Hinata’s mannerisms.
-??????? The rest of the team is like ??????
-Goshiki thinks Hinata is super cute and sweet and “Why aren’t there any people like that in Shiratorizawa…..”
-“You should have come to Shiratorizawa” is banned to be said ANYWHERE near Shirabu or else.
-Ushijima likes puppies so occassionally he’ll bring in injured puppies to the gym and dorms secretly and nurse them back to health.
-Shirabu has fallen way too hard.
-Tendou likes anime.
-How many times have they all heard him laughing at anime and sobbing like “I CAN’T BELIEVE THE CUTE WHITE HAIRED ONE IS DEAD.” In the middle of dead night.
-Overall, they get along pretty fine in their own quirky ways.

Death Will Come As Sure As the Night [KHR/SH]

A.N - For the Fandom Bingo spot 3-4; lygophobia. Mild crossover with Silent Hill.


At fourteen, Sawada Tsunayoshi should be the past the point where he fears the darkness. He shouldn’t need to keep the light on at all hours, even when he sleeps. He shouldn’t have lights in his bedroom and beneath his bed and in all the little nooks and crannies of the house.

Reborn kind of wants to laugh when he first meets Tsuna. Before he discovers what drives that fear of the dark. It’s so childish, so stupid to him then. That first night, he deactivates all the lights, and smirks when the room goes dark.

But then in the next moment he’s covering his ears in shock as Tsuna screams and howls at a level he’d thought previously unreachable. Reborn lunges for the bedroom light, and turns it on. He’s shocked to find deep, furrowed gouges on Tsuna’s arms and face, like claws. He stares, and then looks at Tsuna’s fingernails, which are clean.

Tsuna sobs, wrapping himself up in a ball and rocking back and forth. Nana comes rushing into the room with a lantern and a crowbar of all things in her hand, and looks wildly around. She goes to the closet, checks under the bed, and then whirls on Reborn, looking far more furious than he’s ever thought her capable of. “Did you do it? Did you turn off the lights?”

“Yes,” Reborn says. He’s still looking at Tsuna as he says it. He’s not sure what to make of what he’s seeing. Those marks are claw-marks, far bigger than any wild animal he’s seen. Tsuna couldn’t have done that with a knife or any weapon. And even if he could, why wait for Reborn to turn off the light to do it? There’s just no way, no explanation. But then, what did cause those marks? “I think…I’m missing quite a few things.”

He doesn’t know it, but saying that is the only thing that saves his life that night. Nana Sawada has no problems burying him for harming her child. She’d thought it malicious until he spoke those words. She sighs harshly through her nose, and helps bandage Tsuna up. Reborn watches as she tucks Tsuna into bed, and then beckons him downstairs.

And once there, she tells him about Silent Hill, and how Tsuna spent the last three years of his life in that hellhole. He went in at eleven - even now she doesn’t know why, because Silent Hill draws in those looking for something, either to punish or help, and what does an eleven-year-old go looking for that would draw such a place’s attention? - and came out at fourteen, barely four months before Reborn showed up.

She tells him about the monsters, about the constant threat of death, how the darkness drew the monsters, and Tsuna always kept a crowbar by his side for the longest time. And she tells him about how, two months ago she started believing too, because the power went out in their whole house during a storm, and for the next several hours she had to listen and watch by lantern light as Tsuna fought and killed creatures that were beyond description.

“The darkness is their doorway,” she tells him, the coffee she placed before him long since gone cold. “Even the tiniest bit is enough. So we keep the house bright, and we… we stay inside at night. We don’t leave windows or doors open. Vents either. If you ever go out at night, always take light with you. And a crowbar, or some kind of weapon. Guns, swords, it doesn’t matter what. They’ll all work.”

It’s a tall tale, to be sure, but Reborn finds himself believing it easily enough. Not just because of Tsuna’s injuries, but because of the near-visceral reaction both mother and son have had. 

“I won’t do it again,” he tells her. And then, “I’ll make sure he’s back well before the dark comes, and if… if for any reason we do have to go out at night, I’ll make sure we’ve got lights.”

She nods. It’s really all Reborn can promise at that time.

And then, after Mukuro and the Varia, after Byakuran and the Vindice, after so much time spent together with Tsuna, he finally discovers Silent Hill.

Fog rolls into Namimori one morning, and right off the bat, Reborn knows its not right. It’s unnaturally thick given the time of year, and there’s so much of it, it almost looks like it doesn’t end. Tsuna’s sleeping soundly, but something in Reborn’s gut is urging him to wake the boy, so he does. Tsuna wakes up almost immediately, rubbing his eyes. “Reborn?”

“Fog,” Reborn says, and he watches as Tsuna freezes, and transitions from calm awakening to panicked horror. He lunges for the window, and stares out. His face goes pale, and drawn, and his eyes gain a haunted look. 

“No,” he whispers. His legs shake, and he drops down onto the carpet. “Please god no, not again…”

“Tsuna? Tsuna, talk to me, what’s going on?” Reborn’s by his side in an instant. He notices the door to their room is open, and hastily goes to shut it and lock it. There’s a rising sense of alarm creeping up his spine. Something is wrong. 

“We’re here, Reborn,” Tsuna tells him, and its no longer a broken voice he speaks it. It’s an eerily calm one, the same as when he goes into Hyper mode. Driven. Focused. “We’re in Silent Hill. Specifically, we’re in the Fog World.”

Reborn feels his stomach drop. “How?”

Tsuna shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know if its us, or if its calling someone else, but its here now and we need to find a way out.”

“Okay. You’ve been here before.”

Tsuna nods, and goes rooting under his bed. He emerges with a crowbar, two pistols, and what looks like a handheld torch and a water bottle of gasoline. “I don’t know the way. It’s never the same - the place changes depending on who’s here.”

“Do you think… is it me?” Reborn asks. He almost doesn’t want to. 

Tsuna looks at him, and it feels like he’s being weighed. “I don’t think it is. But who knows. For now though, we need to–”


Reborn jerks around. That’s the sound of gunfire in the distance.

“Huh,” Tsuna says, tossing him one of the two guns. “Looks like we’re not the only ones here.”

“What about Mama?” Reborn asks. Tsuna shakes his head.

“She’s safe, back in the Real World. She’ll know why we’re gone, don’t worry about it.”

That’s good, at least. “Tell me what to do, Tsuna.” 

Tsuna taps his shoulder. “Get up here, and stay close. Keep your guard up. We’re going to go out, and see if we can do a quick scavenging run, and then see if we can find out who’s called the fog in. Silent Hill proper is in Maine, but if you travel through the Worlds long enough, you can end up there. So we’ll have to be careful.”

Reborn tugs his hat down more firmly, and ensures the gun he’s holding is loaded and ready, urging Leon beneath his hat for safety. “Then let’s do this.”

“Same rules apply,” Tsuna murmurs. “We don’t go out after dark, and we stay in well-lit areas. I hope you’re ready, Reborn. Because some of those lit areas, they’re not nice.”

“We’ll make it, Tsuna,” he replies. “I trust your judgement. You do whatever you think is best, and I’ll follow you until the end.”

Tsuna’s smile is faint, but it is there. “Then let’s go.”

And they step out into the fog.

Lethal | Jungkook x Reader | Smut | Part 7

Holy moly, angsty scenes ahead (with a bit of fluff, nevertheless). Please don’t hate me for writing this!

Originally posted by queenwithcollars

Ever so slowly, you woke up. With your eyes still closed, you attempted to move, but found yourself unable to. You forced your eyes open, and identified what was holding you in place immediately - you wrapped tightly against Jeon Jungkook.

You forgot about that.

Who would have thought you would have ended up with this cocky bastard?

Oh, well - you would be lying if you said you had any regrets.

Jungkook’s chest rose and fell rhythmically, still sound asleep (and shirtless, which you attempted to ignore). He was snoring softly, and you couldn’t help but smile at his sleeping form. God, you were getting soft.

Seeing as Jungkook was still asleep, your fingers, as if by their own accords, began to trace his features, which were softened by sleep. Gone was his scowl, his cocky grin. He looked younger, and more innocent - far from a dangerous hitman.

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ahsagitarius  asked:

Prompt: Captain Swan adopt a child! Thank you! xx :D

I finally did it! I hope it’s everything you wanted it to be! Thank you for being so patient while I struggled with words ahhh (also this is completely unedited so mistakes are all mine)

It’s David’s idea to allow high schoolers to come learn what it’s like at Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department. 

At first, there aren’t many serious candidates that come for an afternoon after classes are through.

Most of the kids that stop in mostly just want to hear stories from Killian and Emma about various villains they’ve had to face off against. Killian’s more than eager to comply, often weaving incredible tales that are just a little over dramatized.

It takes three weeks of the occasional interested teenager for them to get one that actually is interested in becoming a police officer.

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little red riding hood (1/2)

little red riding hood (½)
dom!hoseok x reader // M (smut) // 3233
You better not be wearing anything under that coat when you get here. Or you’re not coming tonight.

warnings: orgasm denial, mild dom and exhibitionist themes, name calling, dirty talk? i’m not sure what to warn about, oh! flashing too.

a/n: hello, this is my first ever smut piece and it’s written for my baby sister @kpopscenariostho​, who has turned me into hoseok trash in the span of four months. this is torn in two~ this is just part one so may the good lord hold you as you swim through this trashy thing. it’s also supposed to be a friends with benefits!au but now im not so sure if it is anymore?! BUT YES, i hope you enjoy and please be gentle with me, it’s my first time uwu

i would like to thank @beansuga, @justanemptydream, @mint-tape, and @apandasmind for listening to me screech about this over and over again. and @minyoongittaemune for going through the first actual draft and giving me notes. :* love y’all. you’re the best i can’t believe you deal with my weird ass all the time~

PS I wrote this to BTS’s Danger so may it also ruin your soul. Have a Danger Era Hoseok too.

Originally posted by notjhope

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Guardian (XV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jongdae / Baekhyun

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,742

Summary:  You keep seeing the same guy everywhere you go. In the coffee shop, on the streets, in your philosophy class. It’s getting to the point where you think he’s stalking you - only to realize that maybe there’s something much more mysterious at play here. (AU: Jongdae is your guardian angel)

Originally posted by princewangeun

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Scratch - Part 6 - (Steve x Reader)

Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh

Summary: (Y/N) and Steve have been best friends since New York, so when when they are both going through a dry spell they agree to a friends with benefits relationship.

A/N: I just wrote the last part of Scratch and I can’t wait for you all to read it. I still don’t know if I will write an epilogue, but I will give myself a few days off of writing before I decide. Total word count is over 17k. Also I completely procrastinated on writing an essay due today so I kinda have to work on that. I’m half way through BSing my way though it, so wish me luck.

Warnings: light smut I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“I got take out,” I call out setting the many boxes filled with food on the counter of the kitchen.

“Did you get pot stickers,” Sam asked taking one of the boxes and opening it.

“Enough to feed an army,” I grin. “Or in our case, the world’s mightiest superheroes.”

“I thought you didn’t like being called a super hero,” Steve said entering the room and taking the box I handed him.

“I’m not a fan of it since I don’t actually have a superpower,” I shrug. “But I’ll still take the compliment.”

“Are there pot stickers,” Nat asked as she walked into the kitchen.

“Nat I am disappointed,” I frown. “You really think I would get take out and not get pot stickers?”

“Just making sure,” she shrugs grabbing one of the boxes from the table.

The rest of the team eventually showed up and grabbed their box and we all sat around the living area eating.

“I still think one of the most memorable missions was the one we had just outside of Vegas,” Sam said as he reached for another pot sticker from the box on the coffee table.

“Was the mission what was memorable, or was it the long weekend we took at Caesar’s palace,” Steve laughed.

“Definitely the long weekend,” I speak up remembering the small vacation we had taken.

“I think we should do it again,” Tony says making everyone’s attention turn to him.

“I agree,” I grin. “When was the last time we took a vacation?”

“The long weekend in Vegas,” Nat says.

“Then it’s settled,” Tony pulls out his phone and tapped a few buttons. “Everyone pack your bags. We leave for Vegas in the morning.”

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Empty Libraries: Part Two

Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Summary: In which we meet a bunch of new friends, and experience a bit of a let-down.

Warnings: Swearing, I guess?

A/N: This took me so long, but I’m happy with the way it turned out! Thanks for all the positive vibes, it really means a lot (all 1800 of you!! what?!). And thank you to my sister @secretschuylersister for reading this over and validating me. She’s such a sweetheart.

Part One

Word Count: 3002

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bloodredmoon87  asked:

If you're still taking n + 1 prompts: Romanogers, 4 times Natasha steals one of Steve's shirts and 1 time she goes without. ;D


It’s late by the time they make it back to the motel room, and there’s an ache in her shoulder that she knows will make her workouts a bitch for the rest of the week, and when Steve goes to switch on the light, she flinches against its glare and sort of half-buries her face into the pillow. It draws a low chuckle from him as he switches it back off, and when she lifts her head to glance at him, she finds his bright blue eyes still watching her through the dark. He’d let her shower first, and she honestly didn’t have the energy to switch on the light, so just grabbed her shirt off of the dresser where she’d left it that morning and slipped under the covers.

His lips are twitching with amusement as he stands on the other side of his bed and rubs a towel over his damp hair. He’s standing in just his sweats, and the moonlight filtering through the blinds outlines a few of the more prominent scars across his torso. The first time she’d seen them had taken her off guard, even though it really shouldn’t have. The serum may have enhanced his body’s rate of healing, but scars are still scars. You never know when (or if) they’ll fade.

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Tired of Waiting

Sam Winchester x Reader

1350 Words

Story Summary:  Crushing hard on the younger Winchester, you aren’t sure you will ever act on your feelings. Then Dean comes along, trying to help you out.

Another day, another book in front of you as you tried to find a way to stop the Darkness before she destroyed the world. Tossing it onto the ever growing stack, you grabbed another one, opening it, but not really seeing the words in front of you.

You were tired of researching, itching to head out for a hunt. To get your hands dirty, and to forget about the fact that you were currently in love with a man who thought of you as his little sister. Even sitting here, right now, you had a hard time keeping your eyes on the book in front of you and not the messy mop of hair on the other side of the table. He was invested in his book, his wide shoulders hunched as he speed read through the book that was in multiple languages. That was another thing that drew you to him. It wasn’t just his long shiny locks that you were itching to run your fingers through. Or even the multi-faceted eyes of his that were so full of life and hope. It wasn’t even the long lean legs or strong chest. He was incredibly smart and humble, and putting those with his handsome features, it wasn’t hard to see why you had fallen for the man.

“You okay Y/N?” He asked, his eyes full of concern as he saw you staring. Nodding, you ducked your head back down. Reaching over, he grasped your hand. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been hitting the books for quite a while now. I’ve got it.”

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Reschedule [m]

Genre: Smut ⚠️ (slightly rough sex, biting)

Pairing: Mark x Reader

Word Count: 1502

Summary: You both look too damn good.

A/N: Y’ALL KNOW DAMN WELL THAT MARK SNATCHED YO ASS IN THAT SUIT AND TURTLENECK fucking shit man I’m literally sitting here hkdhfgdfgjhg. This is the first installment of my Never Ever Drabble series. Based on my screenshots from the Never Ever MV and what they made me feel. This one made me feel like a hoe. Obviously. Enjoy :)

Mark rubs his hands together to relieve them from the crisp, almost-spring evening air. It’s a lovely night; the sky is clear, and the sun has just finished its journey west, allowing the stars to make their grand appearance. He’s leaning against his vintage black BMW, admiring the atmosphere that the sky has to offer. Upon hearing the front door to your house open and close in the distance, he gives himself a once over to make sure everything would be to your liking. He knows you aren’t picky when it comes to his looks, but he always loves to go the extra mile to impress his lady love, even if it is just for dinner and dancing.

He straightens out the collar of his soft black turtleneck and gives the lapels of his perfectly pressed suit jacket a firm tug to ensure any wrinkles are no more. He looks down to fiddle with the Rolex on his right wrist-that’s when he hears the heels of your boots connecting with the pavement of your long, cobblestone driveway. He notices when your steps speed up and smiles at his watch. Only when you grow closer to him and slow down does he look up, and boy…

Was he unprepared for the sight you’d bless him with…

His expression develops into something much deeper than happiness as he drinks in your presence. Those boots he heard? Yeah, the coveted Louboutin heels are about 4 inches, and they hug your legs exquisitely, the top of them ending just in the middle of your thighs. The black suede material of them contrasts beautifully with the dress you decided to step out in. The silver satin shimmers with every move you make. It drapes delicately over your chest, revealing only the slightest bit of cleavage. However, because of its dainty spaghetti straps, you decided to go braless tonight, which adds a tasteful air of eroticism to your whole ensemble-enough to make Mark’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. Even with your tan trench coat settled upon your shoulders and shielding the majority of your body, it doesn’t take much of you to tempt Mark, and he wants you now.

He snaps out of the trance you’ve put him in, internally scolding himself for ogling you so hard. He’s about to greet you properly when he notices the expression on your face.

Your glossed lip is being assaulted by your teeth, your eyebrows are slightly furrowed and your eyes- clouded in a haze of lust.

You’ve been mentally devouring him this whole time, too. At this realization, Mark offers a knowing smirk, and finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Hey, baby,” his smile grows a bit.

“H-hey, baby…” You mindlessly repeat, tearing your eyes from his masculine form and force yourself to look him in the face. “You look… so handsome,” you try to play it off innocently, grip tightening on your black clutch purse to relieve some of the tension you’ve built up. “Oh God…” you muse in your thoughts, “He looks way way way more than handsome… I’d love nothing more than to f-” His deep voice interrupts your mental tirade.

“And you look…” he pauses, trying to find the right words to express how he feels, “…like I need to eat you up. Right now.


His bluntness forces a slight blush onto your cheeks, mouth gaping a little half out of surprise, half out of a need to taste his tongue on yours as soon as possible… You hesitate before taking a small step towards him, grip on your clutch making your knuckles turn white.

“R-right now?” you stutter a response. His dark orbs bore into yours with an intensity you can only describe as absolute infatuation.  It was right there you realized the both of you wouldn’t be making it into his car, let alone to the restaurant. You feel your insides quickly warm up as he stands up straight from the vehicle to slowly stalk over to you. His eager hands reach out to the familiar space of your hips, and travel southward to your ass to give an appreciative squeeze of the ample flesh. His eyes never leave yours as he leans closer to you.

“Right fucking now, baby,” he whispers. The depth of his tone sends a delicious chill down your spine and straight to your core. You feel yourself gravitating closer to him. His cologne is clouding your mind, getting you drunk off of its subtle smoke and spice.

The next ten seconds goes by in a blur of frantic hands touching and groping, lips on skin, and gasps of anticipation.

“What about dinner?” you mumble on his lips before he claims them again, rougher this time.

“Lets just…” he begins before moving his lips to your neck, placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss on your sensitive skin.

“R-reschedule?” you breathe out, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of his lips on your neck.

“Reschedule.” He agrees with a deep whisper in your ear. Mark briskly cups your ass in his hands and lifts you up to carry you back into your house.

The hallway leading to your room is quickly littered with leggy boots, a suit jacket and turtleneck, pants, and a nearly torn, silver satin dress.

Mark has you pinned against the wall of your bedroom, roughly licking and biting at the juncture of your neck. His hands are holding you up by your thighs, and you can feel how ready he is to take you as he grinds his hips into you. You’ve soaked through your panties now, and you’re sure you’ve soaked the front of his boxers too. Your hands seek leverage on his back and your nails sink into his skin when he bites you just below your jaw particularly hard. His hardening member is putting wonderful pressure on your clit, but you want more. You need all of him.

“Mark… please…” you whimper, bucking your hips onto him until he gets the message and carries you from the wall to the bed. With a light ‘plop’, you’re both settled in the middle of the soft white duvet. The moonlight shines through your sheer red curtains, allowing you both to see each other in a sensual glow. There’s a brief moment of mutual appreciation before you’re ravenously at each other again.

“Y/n, you don’t know what you do to me…” he growls into your ear, his hands fervently finding your panties and nearly ripping them in his efforts to get them off- like he almost did to your dress. He wastes no time parting your folds with his index and middle fingers, and groans at how wet you are for him. He’s about to put his fingers to work when you reach for the hem of his boxers.

“You’re telling me… I need you, now baby…” you fuss. He bites his lip and helps you push them down. With a mindless toss, they join your panties on the floor.

He settles between your thighs, chest to chest with you, and guides himself into your dripping entrance with one fast, rough stroke that has you both moaning in relief. He stretches you marvelously, and your slick walls tighten around him as he thrusts into you again, and again, and again. He sets a steady pace and your legs find their way around his waist.

“Mmmh! Mark! Ohhh… you feel so good… baby…” your voice strains as he finds that sweet spot inside of you.

“Yeah? You like that?” He pants, looking down at you and loving how you throw your head back in ecstasy because of him. His giving it to you just right, thrusting deeply and roughly, inching your body up towards the headboard every time he bottoms out. You feel yourself tumbling towards the edge so quickly, it sneaks up on you, and when he hits that spot at the perfect angle, you’re seeing stars. With a shout of his name, your back arcs and your breasts press up against his firm chest. He feels your walls clench around him tightly, and he lets out a throaty groan into your ear. He speeds up for a few moments, helping you reach your high intensely, before you can’t take it anymore. You grip onto his arm tightly, pleading for him to slow down.

He obliges and leisurely grinds into you as you come down. He sucks in a sharp breath as he takes in your enthralled state- hair strewn about along the pillow, sweat beading on your skin and lips swollen from his passionate kisses. “You’re so sexy baby… so beautiful…” he plants a deep kiss on your lips, his tongue dancing with yours. You feel him suddenly start to pick up the pace again, his thick length massaging your sensitive walls. You break the kiss with a labored whimper and he gives a side smile when you finally open your eyes. “I could do this all night… can you take another one?”

So this is the first smut I’ve written in a LONG time and I’m sitting here like… blushing like a tomato… this isn’t even that nasty. I can’t wait to get into that nasty stuff again :-))))) Stay tuned for more, I think I may do Jinyoung next…

Who’s Leslie?

79. “My name isn’t Leslie…who’s Leslie?” from @mayyoustay-foreveryoung

It had been a long day, hell a long week, and all Chibs wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, and crawl into his own bed. What he did not want to do was get a call once his boots were off. What he did not want was for the call to be telling him to come pick up a very drunk Y/N from one of the local bars. Chibs tossed his phone on the table and groaned. Y/N was his best friend and he’d do anything for the girl, but it was moments like this that he momentarily wondered about their friendship.

Chibs drove his truck to the bar and made his way inside. He knew many of the regulars and bartenders at this place, as it was one of Y/N’s favorite places to visit when he was off on long runs. Maybe it was because there was no one here associated with the Sons or if it was because it was on the opposite side of the city from the clubhouse. No matter what, Y/N would find herself here when Chibs was out of town. “Filip!” He spun at the sound of his name being screamed from across the room. There was Y/N, holding tight onto one of the female bartenders. Chibs groaned and quickly made his way over, releasing the younger girl from Y/N’s grasp.

“Alright Love, let’s get you home and get you some sleep!” He helped Y/n into the truck before quickly making his way over to the driver’s side. He wanted to get back home and quickly. Y/N slouched in the passenger seat and was already asleep by the time he started the truck, her head leaning on the window. Chibs just laughed and enjoyed the silence of the drive back to his place. He could have drove her all the way home, but didn’t want her by herself. And he really just wanted his own bed tonight.

Y/N was still asleep when he pulled up to his place. Like every other time she had gotten drunk, Chibs carried her in and she stayed asleep all the way to his bed. He carefully put her down and went to remove the boots from her feet. “Wha’re doin?” She slurred as she rubbed her eyes. “I’m getting us ready for bed. Now let’s sleep.” Chibs tucked her in and smiled at her confused and scrunched up face. “My name isn’t Leslie…who’s Leslie?” Her voice was small and Chibs bit back a laugh. “I didn’t say Leslie, Y/N. I said LET’S Sleeep,” he spoke slowly for her and smiled when she nodded and patted the spot next to her. “Oooh ok Chibby-babe. Sleep is good. Don’t go away for soooo long again. I was soooo lonely Chibby.”

“I’m sorry Love, I’ll try not to let it happen again,” he pressed a kiss to her temple and finished getting ready for bed. As he slid under the covers, he let out a sigh of relief. He was so glad to finally be home.


@sarcastic-lunatic @redwoodog@soafanficluvr1@girl-with-no-faith-in-medicine @fortheloveofthesoa @one-charming-life@khyharah@samcrolivesforever @redwoodog @chaosmieu@dolphingoddess81 @telford-ortiz-teller @thegoodthebadandtheempty@anarchyrenegade @jade770 @realpowertwix @supernaturalanarchy@mrstellerwinston