that stomach looks big because jacket

I have no idea why I’m posting this, but enjoy anyway. Warning for some brief violence and also some blood.

Geoff has known Gus since they were kids. Both had grown up in the system, sharing a few dozen foster parents before ultimately getting shoved out into the world at eighteen. When they realized ‘real jobs’ weren’t for them, they started conning the elderly out of their pension checks (something Gus got freakishly good at) before going their separate ways (Geoff wanted to try robbing banks while Gus stuck with the con business), but they kept in touch regularly and would borrow out their crew if the other needed extra help.

Geoff isn’t sure who’s running with Gus these days, but whoever they are clearly can’t be trusted with this job. It’s one of Gus’ downfalls, being unable to put up with people long enough to trust them to stay on his crew long term. In fact, if he had his way, Gus would have been his own crew, but even he knew he couldn’t do everything by himself. It’s not from lack of trying either.

“At least you’re here on time,” Gus says the moment Geoff gets out of the car. He’s leaning against the wall to his bar, arms crossed, a crate sitting next to his feet. It looks like weapons, but with Gus it could be anything. “Who’d you bring? Heckle and Jekyll?”

“Hardy har,” Geoff retorts sarcastically, lightly kicking the crate. “What is this?”

“Don’t kick it,” Gus scolds, pushing away from the wall. “There’s enough explosives in there to take out this street corner.”

“Jesus Christ!” Geoff jumps back, eyeing the crate warily. “Who the fuck are you dealing with?”

“That’s not important,” Gus states, gesturing for Ryan and Ray to take the crate to the car. “And be careful,” he snaps at them when they pick it up, struggling under the weight. Geoff rushes ahead of them, opening the trunk, and backs up so they can set the crate down in the middle.

“What the fuck is in that thing?” Ray asks, winded, glaring at the crate like it had wronged him.

“Sticky bombs,” Ryan replies before Geoff can, rolling his shoulders.

“And you know that how?”

Ryan quirks an eyebrow and smirks but doesn’t reply, closing the trunk. He can be really creepy sometimes, something everyone in the crew has pointed out on more than one occasion, but Geoff’s gotten to the point where he’d rather see Ryan be this kind of creepy instead of the standing over his bed with a knife kind of creepy.

“Call me when you get there,” Gus says when Geoff returns to his side, handing over a piece of paper with an address written on it, “just so I know you haven’t blown yourselves up.”

“Alright.”

“I mean it, that shit’s expensive.”

“You’re a real friend, Sorola,” Geoff mutters under his breath, heading back towards the car.

Gus waves his hand dismissively, disappearing back into his bar, and Geoff snorts, sliding behind the wheel. He waits for Ryan and Ray to get back in the car before starting it, pulling out of his spot. Ray leans forward from the backseat, fiddling with the radio, flipping through stations.

“Everything is crap,” he declares after a beat, turning the radio off, falling back in his seat.

“You didn’t even listen to any of the music,” Ryan argues, glancing back at him, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“It’s crap,” Ray insists, pulling his hood up, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. “Wake me when we get there.”

“Here,” Geoff says, shoving the address Gus gave him at Ryan. “Punch that in the GPS when we get back to Los Santos.”

Ryan looks down at the address, reading it carefully, and asks, “Who needs this much explosives?”

“Besides you,” Geoff mutters, earning him a glare from the man sitting next to him. “I don’t know. Gus’s usual MO are cons, but lately he’s been sorta a go between for criminals. Anything not strictly legal that’s coming into or out of Los Santos goes through him first.”

“Sounds dangerous.” A feral grin appears on Ryan’s face and Geoff rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s also stupid. Anyone could gun for him at any given time, but he seems content with doing it. I’d feel better if he had people watching his back.” Actually, Geoff would feel better if Gus would just go back to doing cons. He’s less likely to end up with a bullet to the head.

“We’re all criminals, Geoff,” Ryan points out, sounding a little distracted, his eyes on the passenger side mirror, “we’re all gotta go sometime.”

Dread settles in Geoff’s stomach. “What?”

“Hmm?” Ryan looks up, turning his attention to Geoff. “Nothing.”

“You sure?”

His eyes back on the mirror, eyebrows furrowed, Ryan absentmindedly nods. “Yeah.”

Geoff shoots him several furtive looks, hoping to get some sort of explanation as to why he’s acting weirder than usual, but Ryan stays quiet. He also put his mask on, and Geoff would really like to know where the fuck he had been hiding that because it’s too hot for jackets and Ryan’s jeans pockets are not big enough.

Fuck it, Geoff thinks, deciding he does not want to know after all.

Ryan rolls down the window just as someone rear ends them, sending the car jolting forward, startling Ray awake. Geoff glances in the rear view mirror, his eyes widening when he sees the black van on his ass.

“Where the fuck did that come from!” he screams, pressing the gas pedal nearly to the floor when bullets start peppering his bumper.

“Just keep driving,” Ryan responds in an eerily calm voice, climbing out of the car, perching on the edge of the windowsill. His gun is in his hands, his thumb flicking the safety off, and he looks like he’s about to do some major damage. He’s also out of his goddamn mind and Geoff wants nothing more than to reach over and yank him back into the car, but he can’t do that and keep them on the road, so he lets Ryan do what Ryan does best.

“You’re on a murder break, you dumbass!” Geoff reminds him, instinctively ducking when another spray of bullets hits his car.

“I don’t intend to kill anyone,” Ryan shouts back before firing a shot at the van.

“Isn’t that a Lost van?” Ray asks, reality finally catching up to him, his head down so he doesn’t get shot.

“Yeah.”

“Thought Phillips took care of that gang,” Geoff says, swerving to avoid hitting a Station Wagon, wincing when Ryan shouts in surprise. “Sorry!”

“Clearly he missed a couple,” Ryan replies, taking another shot, spider webbing the van’s windshield. “And fuck you!”

“I said sorry!”

“Yeah, well there’s sorry and then there’s…” Ryan trails off into a hiss of pain seconds before plummeting from the car window.

“Ryan!” Geoff and Ray scream, the latter scrambling into the front seat. It takes some fast acting on Geoff’s part to keep Ray from diving out of the window after Ryan, dragging him back into the seat with one hand, trying desperately to keep the car on the road with the other.

“Take the wheel,” he shouts after Ray stops struggling, pulling his pistol from the holster hidden beneath his suit jacket.

“What?”

“Just take the fucking wheel!” Geoff repeats and rolls the window down. He waits until Ray has his hand on the wheel before letting go, pulling himself up on the windowsill like Ryan had done. He ducks quickly, narrowly avoiding a bullet, and points his gun at the van. He takes a breath, trying not to think about the sticky bombs in the trunk, or the fact that one of his guys is probably a red stain on the road, and fires.

He hits the tire, sending the van spinning and some quick maneuvering has them coming to a complete stop on the side of the road. Geoff pushes himself back into the car, slamming on the breaks, skidding to a halt in the middle of the highway. Another car skids around them, having to practically drive into the desert to avoid hitting them, the driver still too freaked out about the gunfight to be angry.

Ray is out of the car first, Geoff right on his heels, both opening fire on the two bikers that scramble out of the van, taking them both down before they could raise their weapons. Once they’re dead, Ray takes off running in the direction Ryan had fallen, ignoring Geoff when he calls after him.

Grumbling, Geoff chases after him, but both skid to a halt when a masked figure limps towards them. He’s holding his side, blood soaking through his t-shirt and jeans, one of his shoes missing. Geoff can’t help the jolt of concern he feels when he sees Ryan stagger, but he keeps going like nothing happened. It’s really only a matter of time before he falls over.

“See, I didn’t kill anyone,” Ryan says once he’s within hearing distance, his words sounding a little slurred, unfocused blue eyes looking between Geoff and Ray.

“You look half dead,” Geoff comments and Ray nods wordlessly.

“Still look better than you,” Ryan retorts, limping in the direction of the car.

“He’s got you there,” Ray agrees shakily, trying for casual but not quite pulling it off. He also looks like he’s about two seconds away from rushing to Ryan’s side, but he’s fighting the impulse, knowing his help probably wouldn’t be appreciated. Getting shot out of a car couldn’t have done much for Ryan’s pride, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, and having to lean on anyone would be like putting salt into a fresh wound.

“Just get in the car,” Geoff grumbles, moving back towards the car. He points a finger at Ryan and warns, “You die on the way home, I’m leaving you on the side of the road.”

“Promises, promises.”

Bright Colors (Chpt 2)

AU were everyone sees in black and white, until they meet their soulmate. Then they start to see colors and it’s awesome. You hadn’t and thought that it would never happen, but maybe there is someone out there for you.

Of a tumbler imagine. I worked it out as a fanfic, because I liked the concept. This will have a total of 3 chapters.

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationship: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Minor Violance, Abuse in last chapter

Word count: 1,487

Chapter 1 Chapter 3


Originally posted by impalaimagining

Stunned at the reflection in the mirror, you stared a little longer at yourself. Your heart pounded so hard you could hear it. You were so excited, that you could feel a pressure of joy on your chest. Your mind was full with questions, what do the other colors look like? What would their name be?

But wait a second… This means that… My soulmate, I have found my soulmate! I’m not going to spend the rest of my life alone! That was actually one thing you were pretty sure about, that you wouldn’t never find somebody. But now it’s reality.

A wide smile grew on your face, the more you thought about it. Sarah! You had to tell her, she would be so excited. You run out of the bathroom to your bed, you hit your foot against the side of it. Stopping for a second to curse, but the pain didn’t last long. You picked up your phone from the nightstand, calling Sarah.

Impatiently you tapped your foot up and down, hearing the phone ring a few times.

“Hallo?” Sarah’s voice was cracked and sleepy, like she just woke up. “Hey, Sarah you are never going to belief what happened.”

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Anniversary Date (Woozi)

Note: Agh, gosh. I wish I could’ve written about how you rode each and every ride lol. This is my first scenario on this blog! I am sorry if this isn’t what you wanted, but I really hope you like it! >.<

Originally posted by camera-seventeen


Your name: submit What is this?

You stood in line, waiting for your turn to ride the pirate ship, holding onto Woozi’s hand. You wore your favorite white sweater dress, paired with warm tights and knee-high boots. The line was slowly receding and for some reason, your knees were shaking. It was definitely not because of the cold breeze, as your jacket was very warm.

“Looks big!” you gasped as you looked up at the ride. It was illuminated with various bright lights and painted with illustrations of pirates and mermaids. It was huge, compared to the other rides, like bumper cars. Yes, you enjoyed bumper cars very much. Crushing into Woozi made your stomach do flips as you laughed harder than you should’ve.

But he just had to ride the pirate ship, and you couldn’t refuse. It was the day of your anniversary and you wanted to do as much as possible before he had to go back to promoting seventeen’s new album.

“Yeah, it really does,” he said as he turned around to face you. He rubbed your hands between his and stepped even closer to you. “You okay? Is it cold?”

You immediately shook your head. “No, it’s really not,” you smiled and added, “I just can’t wait to get on!”

For a couple more moments you waited for your turn, rubbing your hands together. When it was finally your turn, Woozi extended a hand and let you pass in front of him. You made your way up the steps and into the pirate ship.

He came up right behind you and as you mentally debated on your sitting position. He pointed to two empty seats at the far back of the ship.

You quickly seated yourselves, scooting closer to each other.

“Let’s gooo,” you cooed, playfully raising your hands in the air.

He smiled wide and the ride started rocking back and forth. The pace picked up quickly and before you knew it, your stomach was doing flips.

First, you smiled. Then, you laughed, but as the pirate ship picked up its pace, you found yourself squirming and shutting your eyes.

Woozi noticed at once and scooted even closer as if there was any more space left between you. “Y/N! Y/N?” he laughed, trying to maintain a concerned tone.

“This is scarier than I expected!” you screamed, refusing to open your eyes.

People were screaming as well, but it wasn’t high pitched screaming, it was “I’m having so much fun” screaming.

You were having fun, of course, but it was still pretty scary.

Without another word, he placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. He tried to keep you as close to him as possible. And as much as he’d enjoyed the ride, he wanted it to be over so you wouldn’t be as scared anymore.

It finally came to a stop and the screams of those on board ceased.

Woozi held you close as you descended those few steps and sat on the nearest bench. He kneeled in front of you, placing both his hands on your knees.

“You want to go to the arcade instead?” he asked, feeling a little guilty.

You chuckled and lifted a fist into the air, “Yes!” Dropping your head briskly, you added, “Please.”

The two of you burst into a fit of laughter as you got up.

“You just want to beat me in that shooting game on our anniversary, don’t you?” he asked as he interlaced his fingers with yours.

You looked down at his fingers and yours, smiling to yourself. “Mmm, you’re on,” you nodded.

After grabbing some oversized cotton candy and eating it all, you headed to the arcade section. There was a particular zombie shooting game, the one Woozi would always beat you at. But not today, you thought.

He purchased the coins and slipped a pair of them into the opening. The machine beeped and the start screen lit up.

You grabbed one of the plastic guns (the red one) and stood in your “battle stance”. It never failed to make him chuckle. In his eyes, you were the cutest. He casually picked up his blue gun and hit the red button.

“If I win,” you smirked, “then we’ll wear couple outfits on our next anniversary.”

He shut his eyes dramatically and smiled widely.

“And if I win, we won’t do that.”

“Deal,” you shrugged.

The round lasted longer that Woozi expected it to. He decided to go easy on you, immediately regretting his decision as soon as he noticed how good you were. Much better than he’d remembered. You threw your hands up in triumph once the round was over and the score read:

Y/N: 12350

Woozi: 12300

“It’s only 50 points!” he said, knitting his brows in defeat and added, “Two out of three?”.

You crinkled your nose amusingly and tiptoed closer to him, whispering, “No Way.”

He shook his head, regretting his decision to go easy on you, but of course, he didn’t mind. It was you after all.

You came up behind him and wrapped your hands around his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder. “So, what color sweaters are we wearing?”

He threw his head back a little, groaning playfully. Then, he finally mumbled, “White.”

“I love you, Lee Jihoon,” you laughed, placing a little kiss on his cheek.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied, grabbing a hold of your hand and rubbing it gently.

- Admin Boo ♡

I promised to chill tonight but y'all knew that was a lie when I posted it. Spring training starts on Valentine’s Day and it’s gonna be the first time Mike and Ginny have seen each other since their they fled the land of black and white. And neither is sure how to broach speaking to the other. Ginny’s tempted to just put it out there and ask Mike what it means, but she knows her captain. He’s like a toddler standing in the middle of a frozen lake. You couldn’t run to him, couldn’t panic. The only way to save him was to act completely contrary to how you felt. And Mike is just confused. He’s never had an incomplete with a woman. Mike is a man who closes the deal regardless. Except with Ginny. But that’s nothing new. Since he met the bouncy rookie, everything in his life has become different.

Seeing each other is like the first boom of thunder, especially since they nearly collide in the clubhouse, both of them walking with their gazes trained on their phones so there’s plausible deniability to the claim that they’re ignoring each other. There’s a moment of deafening silence that makes them both blush before they choke out hellos. Mike is surprised to hear himself asking if she’s got a minute. She follows him to his locker and Mike can physically feel himself becoming 15 again, red-faced and tongue-tied beneath the gaze of a girl who would eventually give him his first French kiss behind the gym. He opens his bag and digs through it until he finds what he’s looking for. He turns to her, the wrapped bundle in his hands. “I had this made for you when I thought… Before… Here.”

Ginny takes the blue bundle from his hands and looks at his face for what seems like the first time in years. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

She’s not sure what possesses her to bring it up, or what it has to do with anything since he bought whatever it is months ago. Unless he bought it with the intention of giving it to her as something more than her catcher who’d been traded, as something more in line with the person who had held her face and breathed on her lips so gently that even thinking of it made her spine tingle. He looks surprised then confused then realizes what she’s getting at. “Oh it wasn’t for… It’s just something stupid that I thought would make you laugh.”

She’s not sure what to make of her captain…friend…not friend…buying her a just because present, but she’s curious if for no other reason than their vastly different senses of humor. She tears off the thin tissue wrapping and unfolds the black t-shirt. Across its front in big white letters is the word “Mike-O-Mania”. She’s staring at the shirt when he speaks, “It matches mine.”

She looks up at him and he unzips his jacket. In the same lettering on an identical black shirt is “Ginnsanity”. Her laugh surprises her and soon she’s leaning against his locker, holding her stomach. Mike sags beside her, laughing too, and she’s struck by how good it feels to laugh with him again. Her stomach sufficiently hurting, she nudges him with her elbow. “Thanks.”

Mike shakes his head. “Put it on, rookie.”

Ginny turns her back to him and unzips her Lycra jacket then shimmies out of it. She pulls on the t-shirt, her back warm from more than the clubhouse’s subpar air conditioning, then turns back to Mike. “This is quite the look we’ve got going on, captain.”

“You know how many people wanna be this cool, Baker?”

“I think we’re playing a little fast and loose with the term ‘cool’,” she replies.

“I get you a present on our nation’s day of love and this is the thanks I get? You’re officially out of the Mike-O-Mania fan club, Baker.”

Ginny laughs. “I take it back!”

Mike shakes his head. “It’s too late.”

“I take it back!” She insists. “I’ll even Instagram it.”

It’s only when they’re posing for the picture that he realizes how stupid he’s been for not talking to her all this time. They take the picture and he watches her create and erase a dozen captions before she decides on “#SquadGoals”. She tucks her phone in her bag and they head for the field. He bumps her shoulder with his own. “I’ve missed you, Baker.”

“I know. You’ve probably been hearing my horsey laugh in your dreams.” It’s a joke but he has.“

He laughs. "Big time. I’ve been trying to give myself little feminist talks every day but I just don’t have your knack for it.”

“I’ve discovered it’s really hard to give yourself a backhanded compliment,” she replies then bumps his shoulder with her own. “I’ve missed you too, Lawson.”

Twenty-Three

I blame all the Olicity wedding and pregnancy spec that was flying around yesterday.  You all know who you are!  Please not that I don’t necessarily think nor want this to happen, but this idea got in my head and demanded to come out.  

On AO3 here.


It had been twenty-three days.

Twenty-three days since she said goodbye to him, last felt his lips pressed
first against hers and then her hairline, seen his back as he’d walked away.

Twenty-three days since she’d whispered a promise in his ear.

*I’m coming back for you.*

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