the colors turned out so intense

Flood my (Christmas) Mornings

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Sweet Souls (Jamie tells Bree a story to get her to sleep) 

Here’s a link to another Christmas-themed scene written for Christmas 2016, along with a Brian and Ellen ficlet from @gotham-ruaidh!

December 25, 1950

‘Children laughing, people passing’

Laughing. That’s what one expects to hear from children on Christmas morning. 


Jamie and I went from dead-sleep to complete and utter panic in a single heartbeat, and staggered blindly to her room to find it empty. After a frantic ten seconds, we found her in the doorway to the living room, shrieking in delight at the Christmas tree by the fire.

I groaned in relief and clutched my belly, panting, but Jamie was faster to action. “Brianna Ellen Fraser!” His whole body electric with adrenaline, he snatched her up off the ground and made her look him in the eye.“You’re NOT to prowl around the house wi’out your mother or me, d’ye hear me? Ye stay in your room until we fetch ye.” He gave her a harmless but firm shake for emphasis. “D’ye hear?”

“But—but—Daddy, LOOK!” She contorted in his arms to loll her head back at the tinsel-clad tree. “CHRINSMINS!!!”

Jamie exhaled hugely and closed his eyes for a moment, as if forcing the fear and anger to exit his body. I rubbed his arm encouragingly and he made a small sound of acknowledgment before kissing Bree’s cheek. “Aye, Christmas, it is.” He set her back down on the floor and put his arm around my waist, the both of us looking down ruefully at our grey-hair-inducing progeny. “Ye like the tree, cub?”

“AYE!” Bree squealed emphatically, bouncing twice on the spot for joy before running over to examine it more closely.

Jamie and I had brought in the tree last night after she had gone to bed, making a happy, pajama-clad, fireside evening of getting the thing decorated as the snow gathered outside. We’d happily gorged ourselves on Mrs. Byrd’s iced gingerbread and guzzled apple cider as we festooned the branches with baubles and tinsel. Jamie, though he’d never before the 20th century heard of such a daft thing as bringing a live tree indoors and gaudying it up, seemed absolutely delighted by the overall effect—though in all honesty, it may have been the dollops of whisky he added to his cider. He kept on stepping back and proclaiming passionately, “’s’BEAUTiful!” 

A good portion of the tinsel ended up in our hair and clothing, for decorating inevitably turned into throwing and fits of helpless giggles; and, of course, icing was attack-smeared over faces as we laughed ourselves hoarse; and *naturally,* one thing led to another, AND we ended up on the ground, naked, covered in sticky sugar, and making sweet, sweet Christmas Eve love on the rug (an activity that doesn’t often make the carols and poems, that)(but pretty bloody festive, in my book). 

Jamie’s squeezing my arse into oblivion (as though also remembering our celebrations last night) was more than a little distracting as we fondly watched Bree, swaying as she stared in rapture up at the tree. “S’all—” she made a vague, sweeping gesture with both arms, and hopped up and down, “—all—HAPPY!”

I gave Jamie a squeeze back, laughing. “The tree makes you feel happy, lovey?”

Bree glared at me, ever the toddler-pedant. “It IS happy, Mama, see? See it?”

“You’re so right, baby. It’s a very happy tree.”

A quarter of an hour later, with mugs of tea and plates of toast with cinnamon butter, Bing Cosby crooned out Christmas tunes from the record player while the rest of us sat on the floor by the fire to open gifts.

Bree went first, of course, and her gasp of delight was nearly as alarming as the one that had awoken us in terror. “Issa TRAINNN!!” she squealed, pulling the wrapping paper loose with startling voracity. 

All in all, I would wager Jamie had just as much fun setting the wooden train set up as Bree, and she was having a jolly good time. Seeing the pair of them laying on their stomachs, choo-choo-ing along and causing disastrous (and apparently hilarious) collisions was a special kind of joy.

I wrapped my hands around my mug and leaned back against the face of the sofa, feeling—something in my belly. Not movement—it was far too early for quickening, but that bit of foreign pressure…yes, that was there.

 I can’t wait to meet you, little one, I said silently to my child. Hurry up and join us, alright? And I could have sworn the pressure responded. 

“Happy Christmas, Sassenach.” Jamie was handing me a lumpy parcel wrapped in brown paper.  

“Oh, darling!” I cried in delight a moment later, wrapping what turned out to be a sumptuous plum-colored wool scarf around my neck, “this is gorgeous! Wherever did you get it?”

“Made it.”

“…You MADE it??”

“Oh, aye,” he shrugged, oh-so-casually.  

I just bloody stared at him. “You….KNIT???”

“Aye…is it bad?” He was startled by the intensity of my shock and he looked both bewildered and slightly nervous. 

“NO—not at ALL, but—” I ran my fingers over the fine, neat rows of stitches. “I just—don’t think I’ve ever known a man that knits!”

“No? All highland boys do. Something to keep the hands useful while tending sheep or the like. Or, when there’s down moments at the barn not occupied by the lassies,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He grinned shyly. “Ye really like it?”

“I LOVE it,” I said, with complete sincerity. “Just you wait, all the girls at the hospital will be after you to make THEM one!” 

“Well, I’ll do what I can,” he said amiably, and I could tell he was gratified. 

“Lord, I feel foolish over your present now.” It was definitely NOT homemade.

He grinned. “I’m sure I’ll love it, mo nighean donn.” 

He did love it, in fact. The look of glee in his eye as he thumbed through the full-color special edition of Motor Trend (along with an indefinite subscription) made it clear just how much of a monster we’d created in letting Jamie get his hands on a car— Sorry, get his hands on BONNIE (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ). See? A monster.  He was vociferating passionately about one of the articles on new headlight trends for 1951, when both of our Parent Radar Senses pricked up. “Bree, what are ye doing, there, lass?” 

Bree was walking purposefully toward the foyer, and said only, “Somethin’” 

Jamie snorted with a laugh. “Ye dinna say!” 

“Loveyyyyy…. Tell Mum and Da what you’re doing, over there.” 

She didn’t answer, intent on reaching under the buffet cabinet by the door to grab for something, something that turned out to be a mailing envelope.  

“Why, you clever girl, spotting that!” I peered in vain to ascertain if it was a piece of incoming mail or outgoing. Regardless, it must have gotten pushed off the back of the cabinet by accident, and sat unseen for God knew how long. Hopefully it wasn’t an overdue bill or something urgent. 

“Aye, good work, cub. Can ye bring it here?” 

Pleased with her successful rescue mission, Bree skipped back to us and gave the letter to Jamie. He glanced at it for a minute, then grinned. “That’s a Christmas present for your Mama, a leannan.” 

“Oh? Another one?”

“No’ one that was planned, but I think it’ll be a welcome one, all the same.” 

“Heer’go, Mama,” Bree said, flinging it unceremoniously into my lap. Harvard University, the return address said. 

“Could be very much NOT a present, you know,” I said, seizing up and feeling like I wanted to vomit from anxiety. “In admissions, small envelopes are usually bad news, not good.” 

Jamie’s expression wavered a bit at that, but he gave a game sort of shrug. “Open it?” 

I slit open the envelope with a fingernail. God, these old fuddy-duddy bastards surely rejected me for being a married woman. Thank God, I hadn’t known I was pregnant at the time, for that surely would have been an automatic, No thank you. This rejection would be—


It must have shown on my face, for Jamie was beaming from ear to ear as he crawled over to kiss me. “Well done, Sassenach!!” 

“It does say accepted, right?” I handed him the letter. “My brain isn’t making it up?” 

“Aye, there it is, right in black and white. ‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been ACCEPTED.’ Bree, lass, your mother’s going to be a doctor! That’s exciting, aye?” 

“Yeah!!!” Bree said, though she was mostly focused on her trains. 

“More like I’m going to be a part-time organic chemistry and biology student,” I said, but practically bubbling over with relief. I’d been expecting that goddamn letter WEEKS ago! “Just the two prerequisites, but…” BUT STILL! 

“I’m so proud of ye, lass,” he said, beaming. “Happy, happy Christmas, mo ghraidh.”  

The Grumpy Hufflepuff

Written for Sterek Bingo 2017 (On AO3)

Summary: Laura hid Derek’s scarf. It’s snowing. Hogwarts has never seen such an angry Hufflepuff walk through it’s corridors.

Derek was going to kill Laura.

She knows how much he hates the cold and yet she decides to be the biggest jerk to ever live and hide his scarf when she knew it was going to snow the next day.

So, yeah, it’s no wonder that Derek feels more pissed off than usual which seems to have scared the hell out of some first years in his house this morning when he woke up.

Derek still doesn’t understand why people are so shocked when they realize he’s a Hufflepuff, it’s not like being cheerful and happy all the time is a requirement to get sorted into Hufflepuff, just because he’s not smiling 24/7 doesn’t mean he’s any less of a Hufflepuff.

He just doesn’t like people.

Especially Laura. She’s the worst.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

these guys (tsuna dino, reborn) thinks their so is cheating on them but they are actually hiding the fact they are pregnant because they are afraid of rejection


admin Adelheid


“You were out?”

You turn around in surprise to face him and saw him sitting on his favorite chair with a nice glass of port in his hand. His eyes chilled you. How can such a warm gold color feel so cold? It made chills run up and down your spine as he stared right back at you so intensely. Instinctively you place your hands on your flat stomach protectively.

“Tsuna,” you greeted him with a nervous smile. “It’s unusual to see you here at this time of the day. Is it a slow one?”

Tsuna did not answer you immediately. Instead he emptied his glass of port and slammed it on the table beside him after. “Why don’t you just tell me who it is?”

You blink at him in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “What? Who?”

“Who the hell are you fucking?”

Anger started creeping up your veins as you realize just what he was accusing you of. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“STOP LYING TO ME!” he threw the glass he had been drinking from into the fireplace where it broke into a thousand pieces even as he sprang to his feet. “You’re hiding something from me! I can feel it!”

You tried to be calm about it despite the fast beating of your heart. Damn, stupid Hyper Intuition.

“There’s no one else, Tsuna.”

“You won’t even look me in the eye anymore…!” your heart broke at the despairing note behind his words. “If you really are seeing someone else then it’s better if we just end this right here. Before I’m forced to prove my worth as Boss by killing you!”

It felt like a slap in the face but the only other option was to tell him the truth. That you were carrying his child. How could you tell him when you hadn’t even decided yet? He had had so many lovers and you were only an easily replaceable bed mate. Even when you started sleeping with him he never really went out of his way to make you feel like you were different from any of his other lovers. What’s to say he would accept this child in your womb? What’s to say he wouldn’t hate you for being careless and getting pregnant? Maybe… this really was for the best? It would certainly save you the broken heart.

Tsuna gaped in astonishment when you made no move to pacify him any further. Instead he watched as you entered the bedroom and walked out with that single overnight bag you came with the night you started sleeping in his room.

And without another word you walked out of his life.

His scream shook the Vongola mansion to its very foundations…


Dino walked into the room drunk that evening and found you asleep on the bed.

He couldn’t stop himself from imbibing that night. There were too many things that were different, too many things that he couldn’t understand these past few days. You’ve been acting so distant that he couldn’t help but… He couldn’t help but…

He stumbled over towards the bed and sat beside you. Leaning over you he took in the smooth curve of your cheek and the moonlight in your hair as both glowed in the dimness of the room. Looking at your face his heart ached at how much he loved you.

And yet… And yet you were pulling away from him. There could only be one explanation. His eyes flashed with furious possessiveness. His mind screaming, ‘Mine’.

He started trailing desperate kisses down your cheek and started pushing your blankets down. You woke up at the rough handling, training confused eyes on him.

“Dino…?” you whispered as you gently pulled up his face to make him look at you. “What is it? You okay?”

Dino gritted his teeth as he hissed at you, his hands like steel holding you down. “I’m not letting you go!”

You blink at him in confusion. “What?”

“I don’t know who it is… I don’t care how long it’s been! If I find out who your other man is I’ll fucking―”

“Whoa, hey, okay wait!” you sit up on the bed and began giving him your full attention. “What’s this all about, Dino?”

His eyes burned as they stared into yours as he scowled and held on to you needily. “Who is it? Who’s trying to take you away from me?!”

“What? No one―”

Don’t lie to me! Why else would you avoid me these past few days?! Why else would you look in the distance even when I’m near?! You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you? Aren’t you?!”

You couldn’t handle it. You loved him so much. You threw your arms around him and held him tight.

These feelings… These emotions… Weren’t these the exact reasons why you kept your pregnancy from him? What if he told you to leave? What if he didn’t want the baby?

But still…

No… You can’t stand seeing him suffering like this…

“Dino, dear? There’s something I have to tell you…”


“Oh hi! Good timing! I’ve got a special bouquet for you today. I made it myself!”

You smile as you reach out towards the owner of your favorite flower shop. The young man who owned it gave you a small bouquet of lavender and jasmines. Holding it close to your face you close your eyes, took a deep breath and happiness threaded into your previously depressed system.

“Thank you, these are very―” you froze at the sight that met you once you opened your eyes.

Your blood ran cold at the sight of Reborn behind your florist friend with a gun trained at the back of the smiling man’s head. You met Reborn’s eyes and noted the fury in them. The piercing darkness like an ebony blade prepared to plunge right into your heart.

You struggle against the urge to scream and push the florist out of harm’s away and instead calmly reached into your wallet to hand him a few bills for the bouquet.

“Keep the change.” You mutter and then started walking away hurriedly.

Thankfully you heard no gunshot after you left. You continue to walk until you felt yourself being pulled into a lonely side alley and was forced to face the hitman that had been stalking you probably since that morning.

“Care to tell me what the hell is going on?” His low growl sent shivers of both pleasure and dread up and down your spine.

You frowned right back at him. “Putting a gun on that man’s head was uncalled for.”

“I was out looking for your fuck buddy. I thought it was him.”

Your eyes widened at the accusation in his words. “What?!”

“Well what the hell else was I supposed to think?!”  he snarled as he punched the wall beside your head in barely held back frustration. You flinched but glared right back at him. “You don’t answer my calls, you’re always out! You’re fucking avoiding me and I want to know why!”

They were all true and you had to look away in an attempt to hide your guilt. But this was for the best wasn’t it? You should just get it over with and break up with him; he wouldn’t want this baby anyway, right? No one as elusive as Reborn would want a family let alone a child that could put him in an unfavorable position. As you were thinking you put the hand holding the flowers over your tummy unconsciously, feeling sorrow for the life growing inside who might have to grow up without a father.

Reborn’s sharp eyes followed the action and the truth snapped in his brain like a bullet and made almost lose his footing.

“Son of a bitch!”


(Insta @kestrelohara)

Osprey has quickly climbed up my “favourites” list. I assumed she would, but I honestly just love how she looks. I need to get her some new glasses, as the stems stick too far out (I had to edit them completely out), but it’s so hard to find small, oversize glasses with actual lenses that also has soft nose-pieces (so it doesn’t ruin the face-up) :/ So for now she’ll just use these.

As for character; I’m still building her (I should really not buy dolls to create characters for rather than the other way, but there are simply too many pretty dolls), but she’s pretty shy and gentle, the kind who almost cries while watching the news or reading the comment sections (she knows she shouldn’t do it, but she still does). Huge coffee addict and also an insomniac. Suffers from social anxiety. She’s a particle physics student, and very studious at that. Some of her favourite things are the tree branches in winter, when they’re completely frozen over, the sound when the rain hits the rooftop, and the adrenaline kick from an intense workout. Probably someone’s girlfriend, although I’m not completely finished mapping out relationships or building the backstory of all the dolls-turned-characters yet, so I don’t quite know whose girlfriend yet.

Her looks are loosely based on Taranee from W.I.T.C.H, which was my favourite comic growing up (and Taranee and Will my favourite characters)

soulmates see color (IzuMito)

Happy late birthday @elenathehun​.  I wrote IzuMito like you wanted ^.^  💕 

(AO3 link - contains all author notes)

This is fucking ridiculous.

Izuna drags a hand down his face, closing his eyes to the massive warehouse full of various merchandise, and sincerely regrets asking his father for this mission. He certainly hadn’t wanted to accompany Uncle Kenrou’s group to the western desert with his brother (of all miserable places), but he also hadn’t realized at the time that he’d have to track this group of thieves south and east to cut over nearly the entirety of Hi no Kuni, sneak past patrols from several different clans (most of whom would love to kill him), and then curve back upwards to stop within kunai-throwing distance of the Yu no Kuni border.

And now he’s finally caught up to his quarry, except they’ve already sold his client’s priceless (and pointless) trinket to a merchant.

A very successful merchant.

One who possess an unnecessarily large stock in his opinion and is either the most disorganized and eclectic woman Izuna’s ever come across or who has evidently met her soulmate and decided afterwards to implement a color-based organizational scheme among her products.

Which makes this night so much better given that to him everything just looks like a mass of yellows and grays with a scattering of blues.

Keep reading

bookstore muse

◦ pairing: reader x namjoon

◦ rating: pg

◦ word count: 1.3k

◦ request: @namjoonspinkhair this is for you my love! i’m glad you were my secret santa and i hope you enjoy this!

a/n: Honestly that one video of Joonie in the bookstore is such boyfriend quality that I honestly don’t know what to do with myself when I see it.

m a s t e r l i s t

Perhaps it was the variety of creatures one could find there, or maybe it was simply the comforting hum of the unhurried bustle. Upstairs children tugged their mothers coats, pleading for this or that, holding some picture book or comic in their hands. Across from them, tables were hidden between the shelves with college students craning over themselves in strange angles, their hands flying across the page. They slaved away for the whole day with stacks of books beside them: fiction, nonfiction, poetry, biography, cooking, religion, philosophy, you name it– it sat patiently beside them, not even begging for attention. Just the fact that they had been selected from the shelf was enough. Downstairs, where I sat now, the cafe murmured with a gentle pace. Whatever it was about this place, the bookstore always housed my favorite models.

Beside me, in a table for two, a man slammed his stack of books down. He wore all black, topped even with a black beanie, a laptop bag draped from his shoulder. He mumbled an apology to no one in particular and neatened his stack of books, ordering them by size: The Owl Service, Almost Transparent Blue, Man Box. My hands searched idly for the surface of the paper.

He pulled his laptop out of his bag, clearing his throat as he opened it. I glanced over at him, a gasp nearly dropping from my lips as I recognized him. Kim Namjoon. Otherwise known as Rap Monster, but in my head, he was just Joonie. I tucked my strands of my hair behind my ear, hoping that if he looked this way he might at least go home remembering the cute girl who sat next to him at the bookstore cafe.

Keep reading

In Red and White - F!Reader x Ignis

So, I’ve kind of headcannoned Iggy as a dude who is super into Shibari, for sexual and non-sexual reasons. With that in mind, I’ve created some deliciously naughty BDSM-y sexy times for all to enjoy. I will warn: this is a little rough, there is orgasm denial, forced orgasm, slapping (only for heightened sexual experience, of course), and choking. If you’re cool with those things, then follow me down the rabbit hole.

Keep reading

The Joker x Reader - “Devil”

When The Joker is imprisoned in a nameless hell, what will happen when he meets one of its demons?

Part 1:

Part 2:

You walk fast on the almost deserted street. The snow storm seems to get worse by the second but you don’t feel the cold or the snowflakes melting on your face. You hear the tires screeching right before you turn the corner on the lonely alley and don’t even bother to look back; probably another accident in this accursed weather, why should you care?

After a few more steps you hear his voice behind you:


You immediately stop and slowly turn around, feeling your heart sink.

“Hey, do I know you?” The Joker approaches, getting closer and closer. You don’t move, you wait for him to get in front of you and don’t say anything.

“You’re not scared,” he growls, tilting his head and carefully analyzing you. “Do you know who I am?”

How is this possible?! you think to yourself, astonished, missing him so much you totally ignore Her when She starts to get agitated; She sure doesn’t like him.

“Who are you, hmm?” J asks again and you rush in his arms and hug him tight, taking him by surprise. He is amazed he didn’t push you away yet; The Joker definitely doesn’t like to be touched by strangers. But you feel so familiar that he unconsciously hugs you back, confused, not knowing why he’s behaving so strange:

“Who are you?” he snarls, inhaling your scent.

You caress his green hair for a few seconds, watching the snow melting on your fingertips, wanting to cry and struggling to control Her from hurting him.

“I’m the Devil,” you whisper in his ear, sensing his grip around your waist getting tighter. It’s so hard to let him go. You kiss his cheek and back out just enough to stare in his blue eyes:

Forget about us,” you utter and J blinks fast a few times, looking left and right, not understanding what the hell he’s doing out of the car in the crazy weather on a street he doesn’t recognize. The snow keeps on falling and he touches his cheek, puzzled, feeling he forgot something very important.


First time he kissed you it was in the elevator, going up to the penthouse. You didn’t fight it at all and She yanked your hand away from his neck, startled.

“Stop it!” you muttered, frowning. “Not you,” you smiled when The Joker gave you an inquiring look. “Her.” He grinned and kissed you again and She started screaming with that outwardly high pitch that made the lights flicker and the whole building shake. J had to distance himself from you and cover his ears. She scratched his face, crazed by jealousy, and he winced in pain, annoyed.

“I told you not to touch him!” you scolded Her, tracing the cuts on his pale skin with your finger, making them disappear.

“Jesus, kiddo, She sure hates me,” he smirked, pulling you back in his arms, pleased to make Her lose control.

“You know She is very possessive, She can’t really help it,” you wanted to remind him even if you didn’t have to.

“Oh, I can understand that,” he pretended to sympathize when in fact he had no clue about the meaning of the word and you knew it.

Once you got up to the penthouse he dragged you in the living room, despite Her breaking as many objects as She could in her rampage, in the same time not daring to do too much because She also hates it when you are upset.

“I have to get ready for tonight, would you help me get my stuff together?” he asked, impatient, getting the explosives from behind the couch.

“Ahhh, you don’t need all those, you know you can do whatever you want. If you get caught again, I’ll find you in a heartbeat, like I always do,” you smiled, pleased there is nothing anyone can do to stop you.

“Because I glow in your darkness?” he suddenly turned towards you, biting his lip, stopping his project with a little thought in his mind.

“U-hum,” you agreed, watching him step aside and approach with that spark in his eyes:

“Show me, kiddo! Can you do that? I wanna see. You keep on telling that’s why you save me from that hell 6 months ago. Coooome on, can you show me?”

You debated for a few moments, frowning at his demand but you decided to humor him:

“If you insist, Mister J,” you signaled him to close his eyes and warned before you started:

“It’s going to hurt!”
“A-ha, like I’m not accustomed to pain,” he scoffed, bringing his face close to yours and waited. You cupped his cheeks, your eyes turned white, shinning so strongly he had to close his.

“I told you to close them,” you sighed. Finally he did as told and after a few seconds he gasped, amazed:

“Oh my God, kiddo, is that me?!”

“It is,” you smiled, kind of relieved J got to witness what you see in the Void.

“You weren’t joking when you said I’m the only one that lights up that blackness. Wow,” he grinned and let himself go in that warm embrace he felt. “You look even more gigantic and scarier on the other side. That IS YOU, isn’t it? Right in front of me, maybe 20 feet tall?”

“Of course it’s me, who else?” you chuckled, kind of intrigued he still wasn’t scared by how She appears in Her world: just like a demon from hell, towering over everything with that menacing demeanor.

“You are so much darker than any of those gray, formless shapes, you’re easy to spot,” The Joker purred and you took your hands away, breaking the connection.

“That would be enough,” you mumbled, wiping his bloody nose and he reopened his blue eyes with an aching expression on his face.

“I feel like the train hit me, kiddo,” he deeply inhaled, cracking his shoulders.

“I told you it would hurt,” you wiped more blood, shaking your head in disapproval because he sure is stubborn. He snorted, almost choking in his own blood and you decided to heal him. You touched his forehead and the pain went away instantly; the bleeding stopped too. “There, better?”

“Definitely,” J growled and leaned over to kiss you again, completely addicted to that euphoria you made him feel so intensely. “You told me you weren’t born like this. How did you get your powers? Are you ever going to tell me, Mrs. Flag?” he pulled apparat from your lips, grinding his silver teeth.

You slapped him, irritated at his transgression:

“Don’t ever call me that again!”

He started laughing like crazy and hugged you tight while you squirmed to escape and She pulled on his hair, antagonized, thinking you’re in danger. What She really wanted to do was snap his neck but you probably wouldn’t have approved such thing. The Joker ignored the threat.

“I should kill you for what you did, kiddo,” he whispered and your reply confirmed what he already guessed:

“Go ahead and try, I can’t die!” you hissed at him, pouting, resting your head on his chest. “Do you think I didn’t try myself when I first got Her?”

The Joker stroked your long hair and didn’t expect you to get so pissed that you showed him what happened without any forewarning; it hit him like a brick wall.

**You revealed to him the lab and all those important military officials waiting on the other side of the thick glass wall, the countdown going backwards faster and faster. You were wearing your white lab coat and kept on thinking: one year of hard work, the experiment better succeed! You were sure it would but were still nervous. Rick being there made it better. He winked at you without anybody noticing and you pretended not to see. “…5,4,3,2,1,0.  Opening interdimensional portal,” the computer’s voice coldly announced and they all got up from their seats, watching fascinated as the colorful vortex got wider and wider. You were so happy tears rolled down your face and gulped when you noticed the smoke and ashes coming through the portal. You backed out towards the door, having a bad feeling about it. Before you could make another move the ground started trembling with such intensity you had to fight to stay on your feet. When She first materialized in that out-worldly, terrifying and sinister form, your heart stopped.

All the people headed towards the exit, panicking and you slowly turned your back on Her, paralyzed in fear, shaking like a leaf and waiting for your husband to open up the door so you can run. You barely got the strength to faintly knock on the glass with your wedding band:

“R-Rick…o-open up, p-please. I want t-to get out… Rick!” you yelled, seeing him walking backwards.

“I can’t, Y/N, that thing… will get out,” he muttered, distressed, thinking that some walls were able to stop Her.

Your eyes widened with shock and he watched in horror as the black smoke filled the room until he couldn’t see you anymore. When you cried out for help he couldn’t take it any longer and opened the seal, rushing inside and frantically searching the room for you. Too late, you were gone. **

Once what you showed him stopped, The Joker collapsed on his knees, struggling to breathe, unable to think straight. He started coughing out blood, dizzy and confused after the strong impact of your powers on his mortal body. He took out his gun from his holster and shot you a few times. You just rolled your eyes and helped him up, Her silver blood dripping from your wounds, already starting to heal.

“Nice try, I told you I can’t die; are you mad at me?” you snickered and J looked at you with so much hate, slapping your hand away when you tried to touch him again.

“I…I don’t need your help,” he slurred his words, not being in control making him so angry his temples twitched.

“You wanted to see so I showed you, why are you mad?” you started giggling at his entitled behavior. “If you don’t let me fix you, you’ll be dead in 20 minutes. You wanna die?” He just grumbled something not very nice while he felt Her terrorizing presence all around him once more.

“Here, stop acting childish,” you forced your arms around his neck, attempting to reason with him. The Joker gave in, still angrily glaring at you but you weren’t impressed. He felt so hot and then so cold he shivered in your embrace. “There, you’re good now. You’re welcome from saving you from certain death. Still don’t want to talk to me?” you lifted his chin up, entertained by his certainly not boring personality and temper.


“Good, because you always talk too much anyway,” you made fun of him and he grouchily kicked your ankle. “I know exactly what would make you like me again,” you muttered in his ear, being in the mood for some playful things. “Have you ever been with a metahuman before?”

“No!” he bitterly answered, pretending not to give a damn but you knew he was bluffing.

“Interested?” you seductively traced his jaw line and brushed your lips on his, almost bursting out laughing at his antiques:


“Why are you squeezing me so hard then?”

“I don’t know!” J complained, lifting you up in his arms and you wrapped your legs around his waist, admonishing Her for wanting to murder him on the spot:

I want him so stop it!” She was so jealous She cracked the windows and screeched, alarmed, not liking the fact that he’s taking you out on the balcony without you protesting. She could never understand such things, even if She had that human part of you.

** “Fuck, kiddo, that was awesome,” he panted, resting his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath. “It feels like I will have a stroke soon,” he trapped your naked body against the wall when you attempted to get away.

“Are you OK?” you chuckled, moving your hands up and down his back, making sure to leave a few scratches you didn’t want to heal.

“Aww, I am more than OK, kiddo,” he started to kiss your neck, his hot lips on your slightly sweaty skin giving you goosebumps.

“What good is to have powers if you don’t use them, right? Aren’t you glad I intensified your… experience?” you moaned in ecstasy and stopped Her just in time when She tried to break his neck, resentful you enjoyed him so much. The Joker didn’t even notice and had no idea how close he was to death that time.

“I want this again,” he lustfully purred, anticipating that amazing sensation you could make him enjoy once more.

“Even if you’ll have a stroke?” you sarcastically inquired.

“Like you would let that happen to me,” J grinned, full of himself, aware he got under your skin.

“You just never know when you’ll rub me the wrong way and…”
“Am I rubbing you the wrong way now?” he impatiently interrupted, lifting you up more so he can feel you better.

“You’re so bad,” you giggled, ticklish, getting lost in his blue eyes.


No matter where they locked him away, he would always disappear in the first night of incarceration, despite the tough security or how well hidden the place was. Nobody knew how it happened because there were no witnesses left behind. EVER. Only dead bodies- most of them mutilated- and destroyed surveillance cameras, impossible to retrieve information from even in digital content. So strange.

Rumors started spreading and the search for The Joker escalated, especially since it was said there was a metahuman protecting him. Very classified information, of course, only available to those with a high military clearance level. And The Prince Of Crime became even more ruthless, merciless and reckless, inflicting his will and terror upon Gotham and other cities, because he knew there will never be any consequences for his actions. He had YOU and for the first time in his life, that’s all he needed.

J was even more pursued, hunted and chased but he fully enjoyed every second; it was a life style it suited him so perfectly. And you were aware he now was truly one of the most wanted criminals because of his connection to you also. How badly the government and other parties would have loved to have you on their side! But you didn’t want to be on anyone’s side; you just wanted HIM, the only one that was lighting up Her darkness, crazy enough to keep up with you because he knew he was untouchable,truly above ALL, especially in your eyes and it made him feel…something he couldn’t name.

And the night came that made you take that painful decision.

The whole tower collapsed while he was inside the penthouse, waiting for you to come back because She wanted to kill and you couldn’t refuse Her fun. You felt it and came back in an instant, pulling him out from under the rubble, upset that he was on the verge of dying, every single bone of his body broken to pieces. You started to heal him and he clenched his fists, whimpering, a few tears streaming down his pale cheeks while you could hear the snaps of his body being mended back together.

“Ssssttttt, rest,” you caressed his face with the back of your hand, barking at Her:

“Keep him asleep! If he wakes up he could die from the shock and pain! I know you want that but it’s not going to happen, do you hear me?!”

The Joker’s body relaxed, falling back into his dreamless trance when you heard Rick’s voice and you lifted your gaze to watch him walk towards you with his hands up in surrender.

“Hi, Y/N…”  

“Did you do this?!” you got up, enraged and Rick watched you transformed again as you stepped over The Joker’s body, disappearing under her frightening shape. He looked up to Her, those ethereal glowing orbs and formless mouth screaming, making his skin crawl. You were even scarier and taller than last time he saw you. The earth started to move and he heard your voice amidst the chaos you started:

“You’re not taking him!!! I’ll burn the world if I have to!!!! You’re not taking him!!!” And She approached your former husband, desiring to smash him with Her strength.

“It didn’t give the order but I couldn’t stop it either. I’m here for old time’s sake,” he gulped, taking out his dog tag from under his heavy gear, showing you your wedding ring and his on the same chain.

“LIAR!” She stomped and he grasped that all his military training won’t do any good in this situation.

Rick let go of the chain and lifted his hands up again:

“The government really wants you, and him. He is in the spotlight because of you. You made him even more wanted than he was. We have metahumans on our side; can you fight an army and more like you? How strong do you think She is, hmm? Friendly advice: if you want him to be safer, stay away. I know you can heal him, but he is just human, how much do you think his body can take? How long before he gets killed, even with your protection? Stay away!” he tried to be the brave soldier that he is, feeling the strength of Her scorching heat burning everything around, ashes and smoke raining down all over.

YOU DARE????!!!!!” She shouted so loud the ground cracked: “Are you testing US?” then you spoke again:

“I can see all of them waiting for your signal to attack, honey,” you emphasized the word, irked he dares pretending to care, like you wouldn’t sniff his treachery from a mile away. “So many of them, you are right about that…Do you remember what I told you last time I saw you? If we ever meet again, I’ll let her kill you! DO IT, HE’S YOURS!” He backed out, trying to make a run for it but he couldn’t escape Her hate: he burned like a torch, screaming in agony before he was able to give them the signal. You snatched the Joker away and disappeared before they were aware of what happened.

You took him to one of his safe hideouts and kept him asleep for the rest of the night. But you knew Rick was right: J was more of a target because of you. They would have probably loved to cut him up to pieces and study each one under the microscope to see the changes you inflicted on him, especially with how many times he was healed.

You snuggled with him under the covers, being so heartbroken it almost felt you had a human soul again. 

“I’ll turn their attention towards me more, don’t worry, I’ll always protect you. I’ll keep them away,” you kept on whispering, caressing his face and he sighed in his sleep. “I’ll burn the world for you if I have to,” you leaned over and kissed him over and over again, not wanting to leave. “Forget about us,” was the last thing you said to him before you vanished in thin air. After a few seconds he opened his eyes and moved to the side of the bed, restless, unconsciously touching his lips, having the dreadful feeling he forgot something very important.


He walks towards the end of the alley, confused, dragging his feet in the deep snow. The wind amplifies, making his green hair blow over his face and he fights to keep it in place, thinking of what he might have forgot about: A meeting? A plan to kill someone? A heist? Why can’t he remember?!

You watch The Joker from the top of the building when it washes all over you like a cold breeze: Her warning about the imminent danger makes you cringe. There are so many SWAT teams slowly surrounding him and you discern the presence of more enhanced beings such as yourself still keeping their distance but ready to jump in when needed. They sure want him badly. And he’s not even aware about what’s about to happen. Of course you will protect him and kill everything in your way, but there are so many and he’s just…human in the end. You don’t even know how powerful those metahumans are. You’ll be fine, you can’t die, but what about him?!

You take a deep breath and make your decision: you materialize behind him and grab his hand, dragging him inside the deserted building while he whines because you made him remember you.

“Jeez, kiddo, I didn’t see you all day!” (it’s really been three months) “Where were you? What’s going on, why are we here?” he glares around at the old factory, intrigued.

“You’re in danger, they are getting closer,” you carefully study your surroundings while She rattles everything around, uneasy to feel your distress.

“So?” J scoffs, not understanding. “Protect me like you always do,” he grins, holding both of your hands in his. He just senses he woke up from a deep sleep even if he knows he didn’t. Why does he feel so…different?

“I will, but this is something else, trust me…” You bite your wrist and Her silver blood emerges, dripping down on the soiled carpet, sizzling through the fabric.

“What’s going on, kiddo?” The Joker blinks faster as he sees you bring your hand to his mouth.

“You just need one drop, I don’t want to do this to you but I have to,” you sniffle, hoping he won’t refuse. “Do you consider me yours? Do you trust me?” you tug on is purple coat and his answer makes you smile:

“You’re the only one I trust, don’t you know that by now?”

“Then take it, just one drop, yes? You’re in grave danger, I will protect you but there are more things going on than you know and I don’t have time to explain. We don’t have time! Please, just one drop,” you beg and J touches the silver  liquid with his finger, bringing it to his mouth and tasting its acidy flavor.

“I thought you’ll never offer,” he admits, winking.

“Can you feel Her?” you inquire, watching his eyes starting to glow in the clearest blue you ever saw.

“Jesus, kiddo, what is this?!” he forcefully inhales and exhales, pressing your palms against his chest.

“It’s me and Her, don’t be scared,” you rest your head on his shoulder, relieved.“Nobody can’t hurt you again, I don’t have to worry about it,” you hug him tight and he silently laughs, stroking your hair:

“You glow so much in that blackness, I can see you now the way you see me. You light up that darkness, kiddo, I’m not the only one that shines anymore,” J mutters, kissing your forehead. “Let them come!”


When the first wave of the SWAT team rushed in, they were able to witness the horrifying sight of the scary metahumans in front of their eyes for a few seconds before they were shred to pieces: two insanely tall dark shadows, burning and collapsing everything around with their power, unstoppable in their hatred for the world and united in their loyalty for each other.

Also read: -MASTERLIST

Pay the Price

Drabble Game List

Send me a number and a person :)

Drabble Request: #73 with Crowley please!

73: Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, sexual tension 

Originally posted by crowleysloverr

“You what?”

“I pranked Gabriel, the Trickster himself!” You jeered boldly, a bright smile on your face as you boasted to Sam and Dean.

“Y/N, are you sure that was a good idea?” Sam chuckled softly at your glee.

“Did you ever consider he might prank you back?” Dean smirked, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed and his boots propped up on the surface of the research table.

“Um, well …,” you trailed off, eyes casting themselves down. You had been so focused on making sure your prank went according to plan that you didn’t even think of the consequences. You had literally played with fire.

“No, she didn’t. Bad move, sugar,” Gabriel openly smirked from behind you, his once golden hair now electric blue.

You almost laughed, almost, until you realized you were about to get burned. Bad. “Gabe-”

“Have fun, Y/N. And I mean lots of fun,” Gabriel laughed softly before winking and snapping his fingers.

Suddenly you were in a bed, a nice one at that. The sheets felt as soft as silk and were jet black in color. You shifted beneath them, your eyes immediately jolting open when you realized that you were completely naked. “What the hell, Gabriel?” You gasped out, unbelieving he had done such a thing. But why? Why this?

And then the door opened.

Crowley walked inside his bedroom, one hand tugging at his paisley tie to loosen it around his neck. He definitely wasn’t expecting to see you laying in his bed. Naked. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” He asked, adopting a casual tone to mask his surprise.

Keep reading

Warming Up

Requested by Anonymous
Written at spnfanficskatoli

Author: Assbutt

Characters: Dean x Castiel (Destiel)

Warnings: (so many), smutty smut smut, bottom!Cas, top!Dean, Dom!Dean, Sub!Cas, rimming, mention of bondage (but not actual), probably a lot more I can’t think of, cussing, fluff… Enjoy. *wipes forehead* phew.

Castiel was happy to be staying at the bunker. He really was. He got to be around Sam and Dean all the time and it was nice having his friends close.

But the bunker was so damn cold. All the time. Cold in the morning. Cold at lunch. Cold while having drinks in the library. Cold every minute of everyday, except when he was sitting close to someone or was in the shower. Most nights he took a shower right before bed so he could be warm enough to go to sleep. But tonight he had no energy for a shower.

So here he was at 3am, still trying to go to sleep but he was shivering. He couldn’t stand it. He needed more body heat.

So he did what he thought was appropriate.

He climbed out of bed, unbelieving that it was even colder outside of the multiple blankets he had on his bed.

He padded to Dean’s room, lightly knocking on the door.

Being a hunter, Dean was a pretty light sleeper. He just didn’t like waking up. He rolled over with a groan, “what? Come in.”

️Castiel cracked open the door, peeking his head in. “Dean, I can’t sleep.”

“Come here. What’s wrong? Need some tea or something? Bees?” He spoke sleepily, eyes only half open.

“I’m too cold. I have three blankets on my bed and I’m still shivering.” Castiel spoke as he walked into the room, closing the door and stepping towards Dean.

“Well that might be because you’re wearing so much. You can’t generate body heat like that, man.”

“But how am I supposed to get warm if-”

“Science. It’s weird. I don’t know. See,” Dean pulled back the covers to show Castiel that he was only wearing boxers and a t shirt. Sometimes he didn’t even wear the shirt. “I’m not wearing very much so my body heat is able to- keep me warm. Circulate and stuff.” He shrugged and pulled the covers back over himself. “So try that.”

Castiel nodded, without hesitation he took off his sweatpants, the shorts he wore under them, and his sweatshirt. Leaving him in the same amount of clothes as Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I meant in your room.“

"I’m even colder!”

“You’re so whiny. C'mere.” Dean mumbled, pulling back the covers again. “Get in.”

Castiel blushed at the offer. “You want me to get into bed with you?”

“Yes. You’re cold. It’s not like I’m trying to cop a feel, dude.” Dean sighed.

Castiel nodded and crawled into bed. Dean added, “Now face away from me…” He nodded as Castiel did as he was told. Dean then wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist, feeling that Cas really was freezing. “Dude. Are you sure your bed isn’t made of ice?”

“I question that as well. You’re very warm, Dean.”

“I try.” He snorted.

Castiel smiled, and although Dean couldn’t see it, he knew it was there.

“My legs are cold.”

“Oh geez.” Dean tangled his legs with Castiel’s. “Better?”


Dean rolled his eyes, laughing softly. “Now what?”

“My face is cold.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“This is not something to joke about, Dean.”

Dean pulled away and gave Castiel a little space. “Roll over. Face me again.”

Castiel did so, curling up against Dean. Dean tangled their legs once more, and wrapped himself around Castiel. Castiel put his face in Dean’s neck, feeling as if that’s where it should go.

“Goodnight, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean. Thank you.” He smiled against Dean’s collarbone and Dean felt it.

He didn’t think something this platonic, this simple… Could make him feel the way it did.

He felt Cas’ lips high on his chest through his shirt. And- oh… He totally felt Cas’ dick. He wasn’t hard or anything but… He was huge.

Dean sighed, trying to push the thoughts away that have haunted him ever since he met Castiel. Ever since Cas ‘gripped him tight and raised him from perdition’. Something else was about to get raised.

Dean laughed softly at himself for his thoughts and play on words. Then mentally scolded himself.

Castiel stirred a little with Dean’s laugh, pressing their crotches flush together. Dean rolled his eyes. ‘You cannot be serious’ he thought. 'You don’t like Cas. You aren’t gonna get it up for your best friend. Stop thinking. Go to sleep’.

Dean sighed for what seemed like the millionth time that night, closing his eyes and getting comfortable against Cas.

Don’t think. Don’t think. Go to sleep. With Cas. He’s right there. This totally isn’t weird or awesome or anything. It’s just Cas. Beautiful Cas… No. Best friend Cas. The one that Dean totally doesn’t have feelings for. The one he doesn’t eye fuck with all the time. The one who is making him a little hard right now, laying like this. Cuddling. Jesus, they were cuddling.

Dean felt something in his stomach. He couldn’t separate all his feelings. He wanted Castiel’s lips on his, he wanted one of their sets of legs wrapped around the other’s hips. Shit shit shit. No. He shouldn’t be thinking about this. Fuck, he’s getting hard. This is so awkward. Maybe Cas is already asleep. He hasn’t said anything for a few minutes.



“Yeah, Cas?” Dean blushed brightly.

“Your penis is erecting.”

“No- no it’s not. Also, please don’t- don’t use those words.”

“Your dick is getting hard, then.” Castiel restated.

Where the fuck had he learned those words? Dean certainly never talked like that with Cas. Although, maybe he did. “I don’t- it’s not-”

Castiel shifted his hips against Dean’s, making the hunter gasp. “Don’t, Cas. Please.” He begged. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to want Cas. He didn’t want to need him. Oh, but he really really did.

Castiel mumbled out an apology, brushing his lips against Dean’s neck and he shivered at that.

“Dean, are you cold now?” He asked, concerned about his best friend. Rather than having their legs tangled, Castiel assumed he should do something else. So he hooked a leg around Dean’s thigh, their dicks sliding against each other through their boxers. Castiel understood when Dean made another noise.

“Please. Please stop moving.” Dean groaned.

“I’m sorry. But I know now…” Castiel blushed, gulping. “Should I move my leg back-”

“No. Don’t. Move. I’m begging you, don’t move a muscle. Please just go to sleep.” Dean’s voice was a little broken.

Castiel nodded slightly, pressing his face back into Dean and closing his eyes. He felt his whole body get warm, he could really feel Dean’s dick against his and now as a human his sexual interest was hyped up. He’d thought about having Dean in compromising situations many times, but he never thought he’d actually get here… Maybe now was his chance to act. Especially if he was the reason for Dean’s arousal as he thought.

He wanted to be naked with Dean, grinding, moving, touching, kissing… He wanted Dean’s tongue on his-

“Oh…” Castiel whimpered softly, making Dean go rigid as well as making his eyes go wide.

Castiel absentmindedly rocked his hips forward ever so slightly and Dean cried out. Thank god for the good sound proofing in the bunker.

“Cas, what are you doing?” Dean growled.

“I- I don’t…” He didn’t know what to say, but his erection said it all for him.

“Cas… You’re- you’re hard.” Dean gulped.

“I am.” Castiel stated.

“W- why?” Dean asked hesitantly.

“Because I was thinking about you. And things that I want to do with you.” Castiel’s voice had dropped in octave and been mixed with sandpaper and good god it was hot.

“Sh- shit. I can’t- fucking-” Dean cursed and rolled over on top of Castiel, grinding their hips together harshly. It elicited a magnificent moan from the both of them.

Dean was done denying himself pleasure and happiness. Done being unsure. Done being confused. And done telling himself he wasn’t completely head over heels for his best friend.

Castiel arched up into the older Winchester, head tipping back beautifully as Dean started marking up Cas’ neck.

“Dean!” Castiel whined, squirming beneath the hunter’s touch.

“I can’t wait anymore.” Dean thought aloud. “I need you, Cas.” He made eye contact and Castiel had never seen a look so intense in Dean’s green eyes before. They turned from candy apple green to a forest color, dark and dangerous.

“You can have me, Dean.”

“Mine.” Dean growled into Cas’ ear.

“Yours. I’m yours.” Castiel nodded furiously, blushing bright.

“Mine.” Dean repeated, nibbling Castiel’s earlobe.

Castiel just kept nodding, trying to pull Dean’s shirt off. Dean helped him out with that, and then practically ripped the same article of clothing off the former angel before kissing him hard.

Castiel moaned into Dean’s mouth and he swallowed it happily, one hand searching the nightstand. Dean muttered a “gotcha” as a small bottle came into view. He smirked and scooted back, bringing Castiel’s boxers with him.

Cas’ hardness sprung free, slapping against his stomach as Dean groaned at the sight of it.

Dean leaned down and dragged his tongue up Castiel’s shaft, making him cry out beautifully.

“Dean, Dean, I n- need you. Please.” He muttered out, catching Dean’s attention.

“I know, baby.” He kissed Castiel’s tip before taking off his own boxers, squirting some lube on his fingers.

Castiel’s legs dropped open and Dean fucking lost it. “Screw the lube.” He wiped it on the sheets, something he’d have to clean later, but it would be worth it.

He got on his stomach, putting Cas’ thighs over his shoulders and pressing open mouthed kisses on their insides. He licked a stripe up the crease between Castiel’s leg and crotch on each side, agonizingly slow.

One of Cas’ hands found Dean’s hair while the other twisted into the sheets. Dean’s dick twitched at the sounds his best friend was making. Although, something told him they wouldn’t be just friends after this.

Next, Dean’s lips made their way down to Cas’ hole, kissing it softly before blowing on it. Castiel arched gorgeously, pushing his hips towards Dean’s face. Really, the only thing that would make this better, Dean thought, was if Cas was handcuffed. But Dean didn’t have the patience to move from his spot. Not now.

Dean started eating Castiel out greedily, clawing at his hips and thighs, moaning from the feeling of his hair getting tugged on. Dean got Cas nice and wet before easing a finger into him, and that’s when Castiel was gone. No warning but the moans and whines, and Cas came hard. Dean didn’t intend to make him cum, just get him worked up. He thought Cas would at least know to tell him if he was getting close. Guess not.

But Dean looked up and caught the show. Castiel was exquisite. His stomach muscles flexing, eyes not being able to decide whether they should be wide open or screwed shut, jaw dropped, head tipped back… It was amazing.

Dean started rutting his hips into the mattress, biting his lip so that he could still hear Cas. Dean was never one to get off just watching someone (besides porn of course) or just giving pleasure, but now he couldn’t hold back.

With a whimper and a few more thrusts he was soaking the sheets beneath him. Castiel made eye contact as his orgasm finished and Dean’s began and it was more intense than either of them had ever looked at each other.

“Dean…” Cas whined, moving to lunge down and kiss Dean for the second time ever. It was hot and electric. It was everything both of them ever wanted or needed.

Dean’s muscles relaxed as he finished up and exhaustion came over him. Their lips didn’t separate as Dean guided them towards the head of the bed to lay down and assume their position that got them into this mess.

“I’m so glad you got cold.” Dean laughed.

“Well I’m very very warm now.” Castiel smiled. Dean didn’t get to see him smile very often, especially as a human. It was stunning and he’d do anything to see it from now on.

“Glad I could help.” Dean pecked him on the lips, closing his eyes and letting Cas nuzzle into his chest.

“You always help. That’s what you do, Dean. You help people. You’re a fantastic person.” Castiel smiled warmly, looking up into Dean’s eyes.

The corners of Dean’s eyes crinkled with happiness. “Thank you. And you make a pretty good human, yourself.”

Castiel hummed, closing his eyes and resting his head back down. “Goodnight.” He whispered.

Dean smiled into his his hair, “Goodnight, Cas.”

notedchampagne  asked:

ate, i have a question. i tried your mixing colors tutorial and it works fine, but my colors always turn out desaturated, and when i increase the saturation filter, its tops looking harmonious. how do you make your colors a bit more saturated but still harmonious?

This is actually kinda hard to explain because it depends on your technique in utilizing color and the sort of palette you choose to use. But it mostly centers on how well you are in changing the hue, saturation, contrast and color intensity as well as the color and opacity of a new color that is added using overlay, multiply, luminosity and screen. So this means that you have to make your color palette clear before even starting the piece.

Some important tips:

1. Do all of the color mixing before actually applying it to your work because as you color you will tend to add new colors which is why you have to make sure that your flats are the final color you want.

2. Remember that flat colors set the tone so make sure that it is already harmonious to the piece and your palette.

3. When you are mostly done with coloring you can adjust the  hue, saturation, contrast and color intensity a little bit just to make it either more vibrant or dull but changing the settings too high or low will result in an awkward color arrangement because it shows how the original colors were not harmonious in the first place.

I’m super sorry if this might not be the best explanation because it really depends on how you draw and since our styles are different then my technique might not end up being the same for you. Maybe you should try experimenting on color first and see how you apply shades to best understand. 

Newt Scamander x Hufflepuff!Reader Part 1

Newt x Hufflepuff!Reader part 1

A/N: Thank you to those of you who requested a continuation of the Hogwarts au headcanons. Next up of this series/group/thingy will be Newt Scamander x Slytherin!Reader part 1

Warnings: holy shit there’s more fluff than expected I cried while writing this, also very brief mentions of anxiety (Nothing against Leta either, just written like this for the sake of the plot)

a link to the headcanons this is based on:

Part 2:


Voices echoed throughout the vast halls of the castle. Children that you did not recognize surrounded you, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous, yet excited. You had dreamed of finally receiving your Hogwarts letter ever since your parents told you about the magical place, and even a young child, you bursted with anticipation and curiosity as you awaited this day.

However, as you got closer and closer to the area known as the great hall, your stomach twisted in apprehension. Questions swirled like a vortex in your mind What if you got sorted wrong? What if no one liked you? What if you messed up on the first day of class and everyone stared at you?

Your inner fest of negativity was interrupted by someone talking to you.

“Hey, are you okay?” spoke the voice of what you assumed to be one of the other students.

You turn to see that the voice did in fact come from one of the other first years. This particular one had hair that seemed rather curly and fluffy, as if it had a mind of its own, and his cheeks were rosy and dotted with an array of freckles. He seemed rather anxious, but you were as well.

“Oh, um, yes I am, just…nervous I guess,” you responded, “I’m afraid I won’t get into the right house.”

The boy’s face fell, as he was confused as to why you would think such a thing. In all honesty he thought of you as very friendly and nice, despite only knowing you for a few moments.

“I’m sure you’ll get into a great house, all of them are great in their own ways,” he paused momentarily before going on to extend his hand, “My name is Newt Scamander.”

“Y/n Y/l/n, you responded with a smile, feeling your anxiety being replaced with excitement.

Before you knew it, it was your turn to approach the sorting hat. Your heart began to leap around in your chest again, for the moment of truth had arrived. You were finally going to know what house you were in. Part of you had hoped to get Hufflepuff, since your new friend Newt had already been sorted there. You were excited to have a friend rather quickly, but you didn’t want to lose him if you were in opposing houses, especially if there was conflict between them. You closed your eyes, trying to push any horrible thoughts out of your brain. You remembered to breathe in and out, in and out, in and-

“Hufflepuff!” the sorting hat bellowed as you excitedly skipped down to the table packed with your new housemates. You received many smiles and nods of approval, but you were thrown off when you were tackled into a hug by nine other than Newt Scamander.

“See I told you that you would get into a good house” he beamed. It was only your first day and things were already starting to look quite promising.

Years began to slip by as you continued year after year at Hogwarts. You ended up discovering that you had quite to talent for herbology, and it was almost as if you didn’t need to try to get the plants to cooperate with you, they just did. Another thing that you discovered was that you and Newt were very compatible, sometimes almost too compatible since in every class you shared you had to be placed on separate sides of the room due to ‘excessive giggling’ when seated near one another. You two were practically inseparable, as loyal to one another as two Hufflepuffs could be.

Over this time you had also developed an attraction to a certain boy as well, and this was none other than the creature-loving Newt himself. You hadn’t planned on it. You saw him as your best friend, however, as the two of you grew older, shared more secrets, and went on more adventures out into the forest, your view changed. He had grown into an attractive teen, there was no doubt about that, with his swooping hair, thin yet toned body, and crystal eyes, he was breathtaking. But you fell for his heart as well, and his mind, and his love for creatures, and mostly for of course, himself. He was a different kind of person in your eyes. He was unlike his brother who was more athletic and interested with attracting all the girls, and instead he was one of the sweetest and intelligent people you had come to know. Unfortunately for you, there were reasons why you couldn’t be with him.

And one reason was Leta.

You hadn’t really liked her all that well, and you only really accepted her because Newt did and that’s what friends do, they accept others despite differences. But Leta, oh Leta, she was a taker. Newt would do everything for her, he would always put her first above you or even himself sometimes, and it worried you. The two grew closer and closer every day, and it was only a matter of time before you lost Newt to her.

You wished hat Newt would treat you the way Leta was treated, but even if you couldn’t be with him romantically, you still couldn’t lose your best friend. You had lost far too many in the past as they found you weird or boring so they just, dissapearred like a shadow in the night

You walked to head out of the common room to think, but you accidentally ran into Newt and Leta. The two were next to one another, giggling and looking at some of the findings on creatures he had, the finding that you two had went out to discover together, before Leta made her appearance. Leta’s eyes locked with yours and a slight smirk appeared as she laced her hand into Newt’s. He looked down and blushed a bit, while you understood what it meant. You were not needed here anymore. He didn’t need you to make him happy. With tears in your eyes, you rapidly left to roam the grounds, away with only your thoughts to guide you.

About an hour later you found yourself in the owlrey with pockets stuffed with some leftover ‘owl friendly’ snacks. You of course had to ask some of the house elves in the kitchen as to which food owls eat, which not only earned you a few questionable replies but also multiple items that were allowed to be fed to the winged creatures. Though it was a strange place to go to and think, you didn’t mind it one bit. You extended your arm, allowing Phester, one of the older barn owls, perch onto your arm. The owls were basically your friends, as you had been coming here since your second year, even causally bringing Newt along as well. You stroked Phester’s wings cautiously and began to relax a bit, until he suddenly flew towards the top area. You wondered what could have startled him to fly away so fast, but your answer came when Newt stumbled and tripped into the owlrey by himself.

“Y/n, there you are! I didn’t know where you ran off to and I’ve been looking all over. Are you okay, you seemed sort of upset when you ran out of the common room.”

“I’m fine Newt, can you please leave me alone now?”

Your nose twitched, instantly indicting that you were lying.

“Y/n, you’re lying, your nose is twitching. Tell me please, I’m your best friend.”
Tears formed and you lowered your voice, too overcome with nervousness to go any louder, “But you’re going to stop being my best friend.”

“What? Who said that?”

“You sniffled, “You and Leta are close now, there’s no more room for me. You have her, you don’t need me.” Your tears came out in sobs now as it felt as if your heart had been ripped out of you and stepped on. You couldn’t lose Newt, he meant so much to you.

Newts own eyes began to fill with tears too. He didn’t mean to hurt you like this, to cause you pain and sadness. He was trying to be as kind as he could to Leta, but he didn’t realize that the one he cared for most was being tortured by him unknowingly in the process. He walked over to you and wrapped you into a warm and comforting hug, something he had done since you two first became friends. His embrace was warm, and your hot tears soaked into his sleeve.
“I would never leave you and you won’t lose me, you’re the most important person to me, besides, Hufflepuff are loyal aren’t they?”

You giggled a little at his comment, earning you a smile from him. All of a sudden it were as if time froze. He stared down while you stared up, losing one another in each other’s eyes. He started to lean in to capture your lip, and you gracefully locked yours with his. His chapped lips brushed against your soft and plump ones, and each meted together in passionate harmony. His hand lightly stroked you cheeks, removing any tears that were left. He kissed you like it was his last action, his last breath, his last act before he died. All of the passion and desire you two held for one another laid hidden, but now it was free. When you broke apart, he just looked at you in marveling wonder.

“You’re so beautiful Y/n.”

You blushed, but also worriedly asked, “But what about Leta, aren’t you dating her?”

“Merlin’s beard no Y/n, she’s, well she’s a friend, and plus, I’ve been trying to think of a way to ask you out all year.”


“Of course, you’re stunning Y/n, and it’s hard to picture that you’d fall for a guy like me.”

“Well, it turns out that I did,” you said as you kissed him once more.

Months flew by and the Yule Ball had finally arrived. Newt anxiously awaited for you to come out in your gown, and when you did, he was mesmerized. Your hair flowed naturally as your eyes seemed even more intense than before. Your beauty radiated from your smile and from your gown which was a striking shade of (your favorite color). Newt couldn’t even begin to understand how he had gotten so lucky. He remembered how terrified he was to ask you, despite the fact that you two had been dating for over a year. He figured he would say yes, but every time he saw you the butterflies in his stomach acted up. Lacing your hands together, you had gone off to enjoy yourselves for the night.

When the slow dance came on, Newt seemed more nervous than usual, and his face looked as if he were sweating a bit. His hands settled on your waist as your hands rested behind his neck, pulling you two closer. You took in everything, the scenery, the earthy smell of Newt, the sound of the music softly playing in the background. It was all so beautiful.

“Y/n?” asked Newt, “I-I have to tell you something.”

You got nervous but nonetheless asked, “What is it Newt?“

“I Love you Y/n,” he gushed. You were shocked, for the two of you had not exchanged the words before. You pulled him close and into a heated and passionate kiss.

“I love you too Newt. So much that it hurts.”

You rushed down the halls, practically shoving people out of the way on your way to the train station. Tears filled your eyes again and you didn’t even care that you were about to miss class. Newt Scamander had been expelled from Hogwarts.

When you received the news, you felt faint, like the rug from underneath ou had been pulled away leaving to crash to the ground. It wasn’t his fault, he took the blame for Leta, but he always took the blame for Leta. It didn’t matter what you pleaded, no one believed that Newt wasn’t at fault. You stood up for him, but you were of course knocked down. You remembered to give Leta extra scowls of unforgiveness, as if she hadn’t been involved, Newt wouldn’t be sent away, he would be in his bed asleep or studying for class or findng hippogriffs in the forest. He couldn’t leave, he couldn’t leave you. Your heart felt as if it were smashed into a million shards, each turning back to stab what was left of you. When you arrived at the station, you saw Newt sitting on his trunk with tears falling down his face. He was broken, anyone with eyes could see that. You stopped running and he looked up to see you, instantly choking on his sobs.

“Y/n I’m so sorry, I love you I’m sorry I’m a terrible boyfriend I’m horrible to you I’m so sorry,” he rambled through his tears and your own.

“Shh Newt I promise you’re not terrible, I love you I love you I love you.”
“But what do we do, I won’t be here anymore, I don’t want to break up I love you I can’t be without you!” he bawled while furiously rubbing his eyes.

“Newt, I promise you that we will be okay. You will be okay. Everything will be okay. I promise that we will find each other, and I’ll even write you all the time. I won’t give up on us okay,” you whispered, combing your smaller hands through his haor. When his breathing slowed, the train had arrived to take him away from the school he loved. He pressed more kisses on your face, mumbling ‘I love you’ in between them. Before he picked up his trunk he turned to you.

"Y/n, promise me that you’ll stay in school here okay? Don’t do anything stupid, promise me that you’ll finish your education, for the both of us.”

“I promise Newt, you sniffled. With a final embrace he boarded the train. The whistle blew and the engine began to pump once more. As it pulled away you saw Newt’s broken composure in the window, all alone.

Tears continued to fall even after the train had pulled away completely.

“I promise Newt,” you whispered to yourself, “I promise.”

It's You (The Doctor)

93. “I’m sorry, I’ve never seen you before.”

Imagine the 12th Doctor posing as the Caretaker at the school where you teach. You’ve traveled with him before, but don’t recognize him because you were with his 11th incarnation.

“May I have your attention, please,” Headmaster Armitage’s staticky voice sounded over the intercom. I stopped writing on the chalk board to hear what the announcement was all about. “Teachers, I am calling for a quick staff meeting in the lounge, please. All teachers in the lounge for a staff meeting at this time. Thank you.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. As soon as the intercom clicked off, I hesitantly set down the piece of chalk, and hurried to the lounge. There must be a change in the lunch duty schedules; Headmaster Armitage hardly ever called a staff meeting unless it was something crucial.

It turned out, the original caretaker, Mr. Atif, had called in sick, so they were expecting a stand-in. A sudden knock on the door signified his entrance. “Ah,” Headmaster Armitage smiled, “here he is.”

A tall figure in a brown coverall holding a broom walked in the door. His appearance made him seem intense: he was considerably old from the wrinkles on his long, narrow face, his soft, gentle smirk contradicted his grey, naturally-arched and menacing eyebrows. His eyes held a mysterious hue behind the stormy color, yet it felt familiar.

“I’m the new caretaker,” he introduced himself in a Scottish accent, giving him a more friendly side to him. “John Smith.”

Scrunching my eyebrows, I bit my lower lip in thought: I used to know someone who used that alias many times. I glanced over at Ms. Oswald whose eyes were wide as saucers.

“Welcome to Coal Hill, Mr. Smith,” Mr. Pink welcomed him, shaking his hand firmly.

“Thanks,” he acknowledged. “Yes, the name’s John Smith. But, you know, here’s the thing: most people just call me..” He trailed off as he caught my gaze. “The Doctor.” He finished.

His eyes held mine for a few moments until he cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “So, if anybody needs me, just, you know, give me a shout. I’ll be in the storeroom just getting the lie of the land.”

The other teachers slowly filed out of the room, losing interest in his speech except for Miss Oswald, who was practically glaring at him. “Yes, nobody’s taking any notice at all,” he continued as I stepped out the door. “Absolutely good news because it means I must be coming across just as an absolutely boring human being like you.”

I turned around to see Ms. Oswald spinning around and mouthing something to him.

“Deep cover,” he said nonchalantly, holding the door. His eyes switched back to me with an awestruck stare. “D-deep cover,” he stammered before shutting the door completely and canceling our impromptu staring contest. Why did he look at me like that, and why did his eyes seem so familiar?

“Does he know you?” Ms. Oswald’s voice snapped me out of my trance.

“N-no.” I stuttered, looking at her suspicious expression. “You seem to, though.”

She shook her head. “Never met him in my life,” she answered quickly.

“Really? Because you sure were giving him what-for with those glares of yours,” I chuckled.

“Well, you seemed to catch his attention every time he looked at you, eh?” She smirked, walking by me. “I’ve got to get to class. Good day, Ms. (L/n).”

“And to you, Ms. Oswald,” I replied, rolling my eyes and making my way back to my classroom, the new caretaker on my mind for some odd reason.

As I walked down the corridor, I noticed the caretaker standing on a ladder trying to fix one of the lights. As I looked a bit closer, I noticed he placed something on the wire that connected it to the ceiling.

“What is that?” I inquired out loud, startling his, his wide eyes glancing around for an excuse.

“Uh, just a new security system, that’s all,” he answered, stepping down the ladder.

“Why would we need one?” I chuckled. “We received a new one at the beginning of the year.”

“Yes,” he hopped off of the last step, “but these will give you more surveillance advantages. You know, keep the kids from doing things like this.” He gestured to a message that read, “Ozzie loves the Squaddie” on the window.

“Courtney,” I grumbled. “I am so sorry, Mr. Smith.”

“Oh, no need to worry, (Y/n). Nothing a little washrag can’t solve.”

I blinked at him as he easily wiped the message away. “How do you know my name?” I pondered in a soft voice.

Mr. Smith froze, turning towards me with a solemn expression. “It’s me, (Y/n),” he said. “I’m back.”

“Back?” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I’ve never seen you before. You must be mistaken.”

He frowned. “Don’t you recognize me? Didn’t the alias John Smith ring a bell?”

“Alias?” This was all so confusing!

Sighing, he took my hand and mumbled, “Come with me.” Before I could protest, he dragged me out of the building, stopping by a draining grate and dropping one of the devices in it.

“Why would we need surveillance down there?” I snorted. Mr. Smith shrugged and stood from the ground, looking over at Ms. Oswald who was scolding kids for playing football on the chessboard.

“Moving on,” he muttered, grabbing my hand again and leading me to the storage room.

“Mr. Smith,” I groaned, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring me into this room, the kids and staff will talk-”

“And one for luck,” he interrupted as he put another device in the hanging basket next to the door. He turned to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Brace yourself, (Y/n) (L/n), for the shock of your life.”

The door swung open, and he led me inside, closing it behind us. “Why’d you bring me in here?” I interrogated. He simply raised his eyebrows and jogged around me.

“Mr. Smith, I mean it,” I slightly raised my tone, following him, “I have no time for…” I froze. My stomach flopped while my heart fell to my feet. The caretaker stood next to a tall, deep-blue Police Box.

“Oh, you know exactly what this is, don’t you?” he mused with a sly smirk, his eyes staring with a mischievous glint.

“Is that…the TARDIS?” I whispered the last word. With a solemn nod, my question was answered. “But where’s the Doctor? Is he in there?” I asked excitedly, wishing to see my old friend.

He gestured for me to follow him in, and I immediately obliged walking in to see a whole new set-up. “He redecorated,” I chuckled. “I don’t like it.” A silent atmosphere settled around the room as my eyes danced around her once again.

“Here,” Mr. Smith coughed, “I think there’s something for you.” He switched a screen on the console on, and a message began to play.

“Is this thing on?” A familiar voice asked. “Is that what the red light means?” The Doctor’s confused face appeared on the screen, the camera shaking as he toggled with it.

My heart fluttered. “Doctor!” I exclaimed, looking up excitedly at Mr. Smith. “It’s him! It’s really him!” He smiled down at me.

“All right,” he cleared his throat. “This is the 11th Doctor. The current date is, uh,” he glanced down at the console, “April 23, 2011.”

“The day he brought me home,” I whispered, looking down.

“You’ll recognize it as the day I took you back home. I’ll be perfectly honest, it was not an easy thing to do,” he sighed. “I left you with no explanation, and didn’t say whether or not I’d see you again, so I’ve decided to make this message.

"First of all, I am terribly sorry it had to be this way; I wish it could’ve been easier, but it wasn’t. Not at all. Secondly, I wanted to let you know that this is my last day to live.” My hands flew up to my mouth. “It may seem to be a shock, but everyone’s story must end sometime, right?”

Tears flooded my eyes. Why would this man want me to watch this? “But, I’d like for you to know something: I’ve found a way out of it.” I raised my eyebrows. “Aha! Gotcha, didn’t i?” He chuckled with his cheeky grin. “Oh, I am clever, aren’t I?”

A watery smile spread across my lips. “Finally, since I have found a way out, I want you to know that I am coming back for you.” Joy filled my heart full enough that I thought I might explode. “But, know this-”

The message was cut short. “What?!” I shouted. “What do I need to know?!” I lunged for the screen. “Doctor!”

“Know that I may not have the same appearance that I have now.” My mouth parted at the sound of Mr. Smith’s voice continuing the message. I slowly turned to him, tears stinging my eyes.

“And, no matter how long it takes, I will find you again. We can pick up our adventures from where we left off.” He took one step closer to me.

“It’s you,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “It’s really you.”

“Hello again, (Y/n) (L/n).” He grinned. My face nearly split in two as I smiled even wider, throwing my arms around his neck. He was taken back at the action, but quickly loosened up and wrapped his long, lanky arms around me.

“I’ve missed you, Doctor,” I sniffled into his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you, as well,” he crooned, running a hand up and down my back.

“Look at you,” I said, pulling back from him and placing my hand on his cheek, gently brushing my thumb over it. “You’ve aged. And the eyebrows… So angry,” I whispered.

“I’m adapting to them as well,” he explained, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “I’ve made mistakes in the past, and it’s about time that I fixed them.”

“Well, then,” I smirked, “there’s obviously a reason why you’re here, so what’s going on in this school?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes returned. “I was just going to tell you about that…”

0.0.Cassandra Pentaghast: She would be furious with herself, to let such a thing happen under her watch. And she would be afraid, of what could happen to them, what if they die? Then once again, twice this time, she would have failed someone she was supposed to protect. Supposed to look after so they could make the right choices. She would put all of her attention into finding the Inquisitor, the Seekers wouldn’t matter, the mage rebellion wouldn’t matter, because in that moment all she’d be able to focus on is finding the Inquisitor. And once she does? Well, whoever took the Inquisitor better be ready for the consequences, because they would not be coming out unscathed.

Cassandra Pentaghast (Romanced) : Upon hearing the news, she wouldn’t believe. The Inquisitor is far too strong to be kidnapped by simple and stupid rivals. Petty fools. But upon her realization, the anger would prick in. But it would be so much more intense, and echoes of Antony in her mind would turn her to raving. She would find him all by herself if she damn near had too. And once she does, all that would matter is that he was safe. Oh, and she’d kill the kidnappers, of course.

Solas: He’d be levelheaded, helping with whatever he could. There’s only so much an elven apostate could do. He was no negotiator, or warrior, so running in and saving the day would be quite impossible with out showing his true colors, a taste of the power he held back. If and when the rescuing happen, he would volunteer and stand by if anyone needed healing.

Solas (Romanced): He would be much more ruthless and a lot more hands on. One could explain the way he was handling it as ‘steely’, no emotion to gauge how he was feeling and no hint of how far he was willing to go. Instead of volunteering, he would insist that he come along for the rescue. And when she needed him, he would be there, arms open and soft loving words under his lips.

Varric: Really, you’d think that after Tallis and Hawke and that whole entire mess that he’d be used to going on rescue missions, but nope, still not used to it and certainly not prepared for the onslaught of all of the Inquisitors inner circle freaking the hell out. Really, Blondie had took Hawkes kidnapping better than them and the man lived for worrying about the small things. He’d handle it with tact, like always, ready to shoot a bolt or tell a joke when they find the Inquisitor.

Vivienne: It wasn’t a good afternoon with out some sort of scandal. The Inquisitors kidnapping gave her the best opportunity to show the Inquisition how to handle things that happen in Orlais everyday. Kidnappings, rumors, threats, murder, assassinations, they were all the same thing once you get down to it. Each happened for a reason, and once you know that reason you can pull a few strings and watch ones opponent scramble for the falling threads. Upon finding the Inquisitor, she’d look the slightest bit displeased that they had let themselves get so easily captured, but other than that she’d call it a day. Everyone’s worrying was going to give her wrinkles.

Iron Bull: His first thought? ‘If they wanted them dead, they wouldn’t have kidnapped them. They would have killed em.’ And that was the first thought he would share. It was obvious, that for whatever reason, they wanted the Inquisitor alive. For Ransom? A gift to Corypheus? For shits and giggles? Who knew. But alive was good, he could work with alive. He’d show a surprising amount of reasoning through out the ordeal, shocking anyone who dubbed him the ‘violence crazed qunari’. Of course, once he found the Inquisitor and assured they were okay, he would then go right to the violence. He would smash their skulls in reeeeeal good.

Iron Bull (Romanced): Now that the Inquisitor means something to him? Something important, something permanent, something that could hurt him in the long run? He would throw reason out the window. No planning, no strategy, he’d run right in, his blade out and he’d be ready to break whoever took his Kadan in half. And once he did, he wouldn’t put them down until they got into Skyhold, into their room. Alone.

Sera: She’d be infuriated, why are they standing their arguing about what to do when they should just be…doing it! Saving the Inquisitor instead of standing there, twiddling their thumbs and biting their nails! So much things they could be doing but their not and it’s infuriating. Eventually, she’d say screw it and announce anyone who ACTUALLY wants the Inquisitor to get saved, come with her. That guilt trip oughta get people moving. Once they got there she would be the first one shooting an arrow in someones eye.

Sera (Romanced): It would feel like her world was falling apart, and she would act like it too. She wouldn’t even go through the trouble of asking anyone to help her, she’d just run to wherever they thought the Inquisitor might be. She’d come back, bloody and bruised with the Inquisitors hand in hers, and she’d be smiling, blood dripping down her nose. As they say, love makes you stupid.

Blackwall: He’d be quiet, uncomfortable with it all. It reminded him too much of how he conducted his own business. He’d try to give insight about who had kidnapped the Inquisitor, while trying to keep how he has this knowledge vague. When it came time to rescue the Inquisitor though, he would no longer be quiet, readily fighting the menaces that had taken the herald. And he’d try not to see himself in them.

Blackwall (Romanced): They had made a mistake when they took the woman he loved. One of the good and pure things he could claim as his own. He would plan the attack, be in charge of it, and he would let no one else interfere. But in his mind, it was him against them. And he would stop at nothing to get her back.

Cole: One moment he’s there, and the next, he’s gone. But it wouldn’t stay that way. because the very next day, the Inquisitor would be back safe and sound.

Dorian Pavus: Worry, of course he’d be worried. The Inquisitor meant so much to the world and too loose such a person would be a tragedy. He would dedicate himself to finding the inquisitor, contacting who he could and doing what he can, but in the end he’d let Leliana handle if. She was the spymaster after all. All they could do was pray and hope.

Dorian Pavus (Romanced): He had seen things like this happen in Tevinter. They almost always ended up in death. So it would be no surprise when the Inquisition, all of them, could find Dorian Pavus loosing his mind. His mouth ran a mile a minute, worry and misery apparent on his features. When the Inquisitor finally came back, he would not be wiling to leave his side at all, fretting over him like a mother hen, whispering about how he was so scared and if he ever did it again he’d throttle him. 


Leliana: If she were left in charge, the Inquisitor would be back within hours. No need to fret here.

Josephine Montilyet: Much like Leliana, she’d keep her wits about her. Kidnapping meant they wanted the Inquisitor alive. And if the Inquisitor was alive, that meant negotiations could be arranged. So? She made sure to be ready for those negotiations. (Romanced) Though, most would notice the nervous way she flitted about.

Cullen Rutherford: This was not his specialty. He’d leave it to the people who knew more about the nature of kidnapping. (Romanced) Though most would note the miserable way he mulled about, pestering Leliana for news.


He goes from Angelic Princess to Sass Demon in 3 panels flat…

A present for my Absolute Best Ever Friend™, @laumatsu !(*˙︶˙*)☆*° Ily Lau!! Happy Birthday!!!!!! <<33

Bonus Devil wallpaper:

Keep reading

Jihoon- Red Lips

Who’s ready to get fucking wrecked with 3149 words of pure Jihoon porn? Someone prompted me to write a fic based off my red lipstick and what it might do to him and how lovely he’d look with it all over his cock so-


Warning: Contains blowjob

(Written by your’s truly)

You watch, again, as Jihoon attempts to nonchalantly stare at your mouth. Your lips were a luscious dark red- your absolute favorite lipstick painted on them. It wasn’t the first time you’d worn the lipstick and it certainly wasn’t the first time your lover Jihoon had noticed. Every time you wore the lipstick you watched him as he nearly drooled over your full, red lips.

You usually ignored it but this time around it was getting hard to resist teasing him.

Keep reading

I’ve been asked a couple times how I do my scar for Cullen, and this is the method I always use. You can make any size, color, or intensity of scar with this method too so it’s really, really versatile and works for any character, any fandom, and any scar.


  • Rigid Collodion - this is an fx makeup that you can find online or in specialty makeup stores. It’s usually pretty cheap, running about $5-10 for a small bottle 
  • Lip pencil - in neutral pink
  • Brushes - I like thin, disposable lip brushes 
  • Powder shadows or alcohol paints - any kind will do, you mostly want them in browns, reds, and creams 
  • Setting powder 
  • FX makeup remover - like Telesis or Bond Off. This one is super important. Get real, proper remover. 
  • 99% Alcohol (optional, if you’re using alcohol paints)
  • Cotton Balls

Keep reading

Always Beautiful

A/N: This is a Spencer x Reader request where Spencer watches the reader’s makeup routine. @coveofmemories


Pretty much every day of the week started with you getting up slightly earlier than Spencer so you could apply your makeup for the day; it was fairly simple, just concealer under the eyes and on any blemishes you had, a light shade of lipstick, usually pink or nude in color, and a bit of corresponding eye shadow, but one day of the week, usually a weekend, you’d get more in depth. On Sunday mornings, you’d get up earlier than Spencer so he wouldn’t see the face mask you used - it was pretty intense and kind of gross-looking. You wanted to keep some kind of mystery in your relationship, so you thought it best to keep him from seeing that.

As your alarm rang under your pillow, you got up, turning it off before walking into the bathroom and showering. After you got out, you wrapped a towel around yourself and started applying the volcanic face mask you’d become addicted to. You swore by the Boscia aluminizing black mask from Sephora - with one application, your pores were minimized, oil was practically non-existent and your face had a brighter glow.

It was thick and made your face feel ten times its weight, but it worked amazingly well as long as you kept it on for 30 minutes or until it was completely dry - usually between 20 and 25 minutes for you. 

You couldn’t do anything until the mask dried, so you pulled out the book you were reading and set a timer. It was nearly fifteen minutes later that you heard footsteps from down the hall. “Morning babe,” Spencer said, turning into the bathroom to see you covered in a mask. “Is that what you do every Sunday morning?”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, feeling the mask tighten as it worked its wonders. You attempted to turn away, not wanting him to see you like that.

“Are you embarrassed?” he asked surprised. 

You admitted it. “A little. I know I shouldn’t be.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” he laughed. “I think you look beautiful no matter what you wear…or don’t,” he smirked. “Can I watch the morning routine?” He came into the bathroom to sit down on the bathtub wall.

“I guess,” you said, pulling out the makeup you were going to use for the FBI formal tonight, “if you want to.”

“I’d like to see how you go from being already beautiful to differently beautiful,” he said smiling.

You blushed, pulling out a red lipstick and eyeshadow for your patented smoky eye. “You don’t think I look better with makeup?”

“Not at all,” he said, not missing a beat, “Just different, but just as beautiful.”

You felt at the mask to feel that it was dry, so you started to peel it off gently from the top of your head down to your chin.

“That’s the you I think is beautiful,” he said softly, your face completely bare of any makeup. “You don’t need anything else.” 

“Well,” you started, giving him a quick kiss, “Now you can see what goes into making me look like I do for a big party.” First, you picked up the concealer, dabbing it onto a small zit you had at the bottom of your chin. Thankfully, no other zits were to be found, so you wiped the concealer under your eyes. “This is to get rid of the bags under my eyes,” you laughed, using your finger to blend the light mixture into your skin. “I have permanent bags.”

“They’re a sign that you work your ass off,” he said, leaning over to look into the mirror with you, “so I find those beautiful too.” Then he sat down, but not before kissing the top of your head.

Gently, you smiled at him, wondering what you’d done to have the best boyfriend in the world. With the foundation done, you picked up the “Ruby Woo” color of MAC Shadescents that you’d found recently; it was the perfect shade of red for you. It was very matte, so it went well with the shinier eyeshadow you planned on doing. As Spencer looked on, genuinely curious as to how you did your makeup, you traced the outside of your lips with the tip of the lipstick, ensuring that none of it made its way onto the rest of your face. Then, with the outline done, you applied the rest, leaving you with a perfectly kissable set of lips. You puckered at Spencer, stealing a kiss before moving on to the blush. 

“Very minimal on the blush for me,” you said, turning towards Spencer with the brush in hand. You wiped the nude colored hue on your cheeks with one motion, using a dry piece of makeup wipe to blend it in. “Otherwise I feel like a clown.”

“You’d be a very sexy clown,” he laughed, picking up the eyeshadow on the counter next and handing it to you. “This next?”

You shook your head, ready to apply the hardest part of your makeup - the smokey eye; it was so hard to get correctly. “Technically, but first I need primer.”

“Primer?” he asked confused. “For your eyes?”

“Yup,” you replied, chuckling at his shocked face. “It helps the eyeshadow set and stay better.” After applying a light coating of primer, you took the palette of eyeshadow, dipping the brush into the silver color and working it into the corners of your eyes. A slightly darker, less shiny shade of silver went in the middle and then an even darker shade of gray. In between each application, you used a fluffy blending brush to get things as smooth as possible.

“It takes this much work for something like this?” Spencer asked, looking at the clock in awe. You’d been sitting there for nearly 20 minutes after having taken the face mask off. “Being a woman sucks.”

You snorted, nearly messing up your eye makeup. “Yes it does. A lot is expected of us. But I only do this for special occasions, some women feel like they have to do it all the time.” Next up was a bit of an orange-brown color in the crease of your eyes that helped to transition the color. 

“Will the orange be visible?” he asked. “I feel like orange doesn’t go with your outfit.”

“It doesn’t and it won’t be visible really, it just helps to transition the last shade.”

Getting towards the end of your eyeshadow, you blended in a near black color at the outer corner of your eye. With quick motions, you added a cream color below the eyebrow, a dark green underneath the eye on your eyelid and the dark nearly black color over it. You were going dramatic for tonight’s party. It went well with your plunging red halter dress. “Then I use this black eyeliner to make wings,” you said. That was the easiest part for you, you had steady hands - the rest was just tedious. “And finally,” you said, taking a deep breath, “some pencil on the water line to make my eyes pop.”

Once you’d finished everything, you turned towards Spencer, face finished and ready for the party in a few hours. “Complete it with a plunging red dress and you get to walk into this party with me,” you laughed.

Standing up from the bathtub, he grabbed your hand, asking if you wanted him to make you something to eat. “Absolutely, I’m starving,” you said, grabbing your stomach. The makeup had taken a bit longer than you thought. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful, as always,” replied.