the first three is the family and the second the 'for me'

One, two, three

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader.

Summary/Prompt: The first time you meet him, he’s fun. The second time, he’s amazing. The third time you realize he’s the most dangerous man in the universe. A chronology of a story that was never meant to be but that happened anyway.

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it).

A/N: I want to thank my baby for giving me a prompt to work on. I took the liberty to tag some people (tags at the end). This is over 5.6k words so bear it with me, would you? Feedback is love, feedback is life.


Originally posted by loveironman

The first time you meet him, he’s fun. 1988.

First days of school were always terrible for you, not to mention that this one in particular seemed a lot harder than the usual first days. Further studies were always a dream you had, and everyone in your family hoped you’d get into a good school; even though your field of choice was not their favorite option, it was better than nothing. Engineering was your passion and even though you once loved dolls, make up and all those things parents feed they baby girls, they were not enough to take your heart away from your true passion, and the MIT was the place where your wildest dreams would come true. All of them.

You got inside the classroom, and you’d lie if you said you were surprised to see how many men were around you. And being the only woman in the room was even less surprising, but you were not standing small. You searched on the list hanging from the door to see if there was any other fellow female, but nope. You were the only one, and you were focused on being the best, not even Tony Stark could beat you. Wait—Tony Stark? Oh shit, this was gonna be fun.

You sat in the last row of the auditorium, near the stairs, and funny enough, you found a slouched body next to you. It never spoke a word and as you still had a few minutes before the professor arrived, you took out your notebook and started to sketch some doodles on the first page. Apparently, it caught the stranger’s attention, because he tried to start a small conversation.

“That’s cute, you should be in art class.”

“And apparently you need someone who cares about your opinion.” You shot back, not looking at him.

He giggled almost in amusement. “I’m Tony—Tony Stark. Nice to meet you”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you nodded calmly, “nice to meet you too.” You replied, trying to be cool about him.

He awkwardly thanked you for not freaking out, and you spoke for about most of the class; well, except when the professor called out on both of you. He was fun, charming and what was most important to you, he was very smart. But not the kind of book smart. He was someone with a great sense of humor and he was a great story teller. Even though you didn’t hear a thing about the class, you did learn a thing or two about the millionaire guy sitting next to you. He was not as spoiled as you thought he was, and you realized that you were prejudging him for his last name, a thing that probably he had been through a hundred times.

“You know…” you murmured, “I thought you were a brat, but you’re actually really nice.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” He chuckled and shook his head.

“Maybe because you look like an ass? Just… try to smile and you’ll see how people change towards you.”

“So… may I borrow your notes?” Tony asked innocently, looking at your filled page. Even though you had not paid much attention to the professor, you still picked up some great details.

“Fuck you.”

With time, and as you saw in each other great study partners, you became fonder of his presence. He was so incredibly rich that he had a place on his own and even a maid, whom was very nice and always tried to slip out her preference for you and what great good you had done to Tony. You only laughed at it because Tony wasn’t really bad, he just needed to come down from his cloud.

You stayed there long, sleepless nights that were filled by tired groans, feelings of defeat and non-stopping cups of coffee. Tony Stark, the richest kid of your class, had seen you in your worst moments and you couldn’t care less. Even her maid –he called her his nanny—Margarita, seemed to be very fond of you and always had something delicious when you were going home. Sometimes, when Tony headed to your place, he brought some kind of edible gift, courtesy of Margarita, of course.

As months started to go by, it wasn’t a rare thing when everyone said you looked great together, but your reaction was to wrinkle your nose in disgust. You never thought about Tony in that way, but you did think about how sex would be with him. He surely was one of those rick kids that fucked everything with a vagina, and for some reason, he was just naturally good at it. A few weeks went by before you could put the idea into words, and so you broke the news to him one day.

“Stark, do you consider me your friend?” You asked. It had been a long day of studying and you both had given up on reading anything else. You were at his place, lying on his bed next to him. Even though Margarita was still around, she was very discrete and never asked personal things unless she felt completely entitled to; she knew things, she was like a bruja, but you appreciated her a lot anyway. Tony hummed and nodded in response. “Have you ever thought about me as something else?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I mean, we spend a lot of time together but you’ve never given me that hint.”

“So you have?” You asked again.

“Yeah? I don’t know.” He shook his head in confusion. “You’re great, and I do consider you my friend… but you’re just too good to be with a guy like me. I’m a fucking mess.” He giggled.

“Agreed,” you chuckled, “but… what if I told you… that we could have sex just for fun?”

“Would our friendship be ruined?” He looked at you with a skeptical eyebrow raised. You shook your head. “Just sex?” You nodded. “What if one of us start to feel something?”

“We’ll be as honest as we have always been.” You assured him.

You didn’t do it immediately; in fact, you two were just too exhausted to even think about having sex, so you just hummed in agreement. But, after a night of studying and cuddling –and a bit of drinking—you two were at your place for a change, and things started to get all heated up real soon. In just a few minutes Tony was devouring you whole. Well, it was not that good; you had way higher expectations, but he was not so bad either.

“Good night, Tony.” You lazily said and wrapped yourself with the blankets.

“Good night, gorgeous.” He replied, nuzzling at your neck and giving you a quick kiss on your hot skin.

You fell asleep in his arms and had the best night of sleep in a very long time.

The next morning, he was not there anymore; he was nowhere to be found. The next few days he ignored you and pretended like nothing ever happened, not even your friendship. The last time you saw Tony Stark, was when he held a blonde in his arms at one of the faculty parties. You tried to play it cool, like you didn’t care, but you did care. You cared a lot. It took you a while to understand what he had done.

He used you.

Keep reading

Okay so I know that Voltron Season 2 just came out but what I really need for season 3 is Keith and Lance talking about Galra Keith.

Keith: Ya know Lance with how much you hate me I’m surprised that you didn’t freak out more when you found out I was part Galra.

Lance: First of all I don’t hate you and second I know how you feel

Keith: ???

Lance: When I came out to my family as bi a couple years ago some of them had a hard time accepting it. I felt like I was alone. So I promised myself that if I was ever told something like that, that I wouldn’t freak out. No one deserves to be alone

Keith: Wow Lance that’s actually very… wait did you say you were bi?

Lance: Yeah, I mean look at me. It would be unfair to not let both genders experience this hotness

Satans Wife (a Credence Barebone imagine)

(First of all, I have to apologize for my shitty art, I only drew the outlines and was too lazy to do the shading, so I just scanned it and threw something together in photoshop.)

these are three requests in one story because i thought they’d fit together well. i’m also thinking about making this a series but idk, tell me if you want a part two. 

plot: you got kicked out by your family because they discovered that you are a witch and now you seek shelter in the New Second Philanthropic Society Church, how ironic.

warnings: blood and brutality (enjoy lmao) 

‘God, stop crying! Can’t you see? Everyone is looking at you. They know what a pathetic failure you are. Maybe they even know that you are a witch. A wife Satans’. Well, they probably know because you aren’t even good enough to hide it. Look at their eyes, they know! Why do you think the little girl gave you the flyer out of all people? Right stupid, because she knows.’

The voices in your head got worse, the more steps you took. You couldn’t bear this anymore. Fortunately, there was a coffee shop right next to you and you entered it quickly. The cashier greeted you politely but you didn’t have time for small talk. You were standing on the edge of starting to cry. Desperately to find the toilet sign, you scanned the room. After spotting it, you ran towards it and hid in a small bathroom stall. With a loud sob you chuted down the wall behind you. Pulling your knees to your body, you started to cry and soon your crying turned into inaudible sobs and you blankly started at the wall. You were desperate and hopeless, where should you sleep this night?

‘You don’t have anyone to go to. Your whole family won’t speak to you after your accident. That stupid, stupid mishap. Why didn’t you try harder to oppress your feelings? Why couldn’t you wait until you were back in you room? Exactly when grandpa was saying the grace, how freaking pathetic of you. They had to bring your grandma to the doctor, because she got so scared of you. Your own grandma!’

In order to stop your thoughts, you tried to distract yourself by giving the flyer in your pocket a closer look. You got the crumbled paper and started reading: ‘New Second Philanthropic Society’ there stood in bold letters. ‘Witches live among us and we should fear them. We are a society which will not stay silent. We will fight and stop Satans work.’
There was a drawing of two hands breaking a wand. Underneath there was a small box which said: ‘We give out food and shelter for all homeless under majority. Each day of the week. At seven pm.’
You were conflicted. Should you really put yourself in danger just for food and a place to sleep? Well, if you would sleep under a bridge today, you’d put yourself in danger too. You knew that New Yorks creatures of the night, how your dad likes to call the drunkards, weren’t the nicest people and you couldn’t imagine how the people of the witch-hating church would be able to know that you are one. And even if they would discover your secret, you could just run away and try to find shelter somewhere else.
You got out of the stall and checked yourself in the mirror. You looked horrible and half frozen to death. Well, at least they’ll know that you really need the place.
In fast pace you left the shop, trying to ignore the sweet smell of hot chocolate and cookies combined. The cold air hit you harshly and it hit you: How should you know where the church is? It could be in a totally different quarter of the city. Because you didn’t know what else to do you ran back to the girl handing out the flyers. When turning around the corner you were relieved to see that the little, blonde girl was still standing there. You made your way towards her, your hands shaking.
‘I- I’m sorry but does the church have a place for me to stay? I don’t really know where else to go’, you smiled awkwardly at her, your voice quiet.
The girl jumped and she looked at you with big eyes. ‘Follow me!’, was the only thing she responded.
Before you knew, you stood in front of a heavy wooden door. You small companion knocked on it with her tiny, pale fists.
A skinny boy, not much older than yourself, opened. You glanced at him, suddenly feeling bad that you didn’t fix yourself up in the bathroom earlier. The dark haired guy in front of you was gorgeous and you looked like a perfectly human embodiment of a scarecrow.
‘Mother, we- we have another guest’, the boy with eyes of the size of the moon turned around and shouted in a rattling voice.
‘Let them in!’, she answered.
You entered a huge dining hall. It wasn’t a dining hall as in a princess castle. It was everything you expected it to be. Everything was made of dark wood. The windows were dirty and some of them didn’t even exist anymore. Just a few planks replaced them.
A middle aged woman appeared. She observed you slowly from head to toe. Then she gave the boy a nod. ‘Bring her upstairs, she’s going to sleep in your room. You will take the bed that’s in the hallway. And don’t forget to bring her some soup’, she demanded coldly.
You let out a heavy sigh. She didn’t realize that you are a witch, so you passed the hardest examination.
The boy was oddly quiet when he brought you to your new room. He didn’t say anything and what was even more odd than his behaviour was that there wasn’t even a bed in the hallway. He opened a squeaky door for you and led you into a narrow room. It wasn’t much. A bed, a small table, a chair and a cupboard, all made from the same depressing wood. Like mentioned before it wasn’t much but you didn’t need much. It wasn’t freezing cold in here and that was all that mattered to you.
But the fact that there wasn’t one picture or any sign of anyone ever living in here, puzzled you. Only a big bible was laying on his desk.
‘You aren’t much of an interior designer, I see’, you joked with a small smile. However, the boy didn’t seem to be much of a comedian either and just frankly turned around to leave the room.
‘Wait, are you sure that you get to sleep in a bed tonight? Because I didn’t see any in the hallway and I really don’t want to take yours away from you’, you questioned.
‘I- I don’t need a bed, it’s fine’, the boy muttered staring at the ground.

You asked him about his name. He told you it was Credence.
‘Okay Credence, I am not here to invade your home. I’m going to find another place to stay at tonight. Thank you for your hospitality’, you explained to him while putting your coat back on. You strutted towards the door and decided to give him a quick peck in order to show your appreciation. But something went horrible wrong. The kiss triggered something in you. It felt like the dark magic was feeding of the boys’ touch. Black reek started to surround the both of you and in this exact moment someone opened the door. It was Credences Mother. Her face went dark red and her eyes began to fill with hate.
‘I knew it! I knew it! Witches live among us!’ she stared to scream with rage. Shocked from the words of the woman and of what just happened you sank to the floor.
‘And you little bastard are her lover! I always thought you were worthless but you are even worse; having an affair with Satans wife!’, she went for the bible on the desk, took it and raised her hand. In this moment you didn’t wish for anything more than the ability to control your powers but you couldn’t, so the only solution was to get between the boy and his mother. You jumped in front of Credence, a dull pain flashing through your skull. As fast as you had jumped up, as fast you were back on the ground again. You were feeling the cold floor on your cheek and saw black liquid spreading out on it. You brought your hand to your hand only to find out that the liquid was flowing out of the wound. It definitely wasn’t blood. You know what blood looked like and it definitely shouldn’t be black and smell poisonous.
‘Look at what you’ve done to (y/n)!’, the otherwise quiet boy exclaimed. ‘You are a monster, a monster! You should be feared by everyone. Not witches and wizards. You, you, you! You are Satans wife!’ The boy was in a rage and pushed his mother out of the room. He quickly shut the door closed and pushed the desk in front of it.
Then he squatted down and stroked the hair which was sticking to your forehead out of your face.
‘I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!’, he muttered, repeating it a thousand times. He got a shirt from the cupboard and got rid of his belt. His shaking hands manufactured something similar to a pressure bandage. He got a paper bag from under his bed and put everything from his cupboard in there. He reached out for you and helped you get up. A sudden wave of dizziness hitting you. You still managed to keep your balance.
He pushed the desk back to his original place, pulled you out of his room, down the stairs and finally out of the building. His mother following the both of you. ‘Witch, witch, witch!’ she shouted hysterically. All the people were now staring at you but you didn’t bother, you just wanted to get away from the woman. Credences bag started the tear apart and all of his clothes threatened to fall out. So he turned around and aimed his bag at his mother causing her to fall to the ground. You two didn’t stop running until you spotted an old, abounded factory where you two found security. For a minute or two you stood there just staring at each other. One breathing louder than the other. You tried to organize your racing thoughts but you couldn’t. The feelings of shock and fear were stronger than you and they took over. You fell into the boys’ arms, clutching on his vest, sobbing. You felt your hot tears staining his shirt. The boy tensed under your touch but brought his hands to you shyly. He petted your head, not caring that his hands got full of that black goo. You stood there for more than half an hour, nobody saying a word. You slowly calmed down and only now realized that Credence knew your name even though you had never told him what it was, so you asked him where he has gotten it from!
‘You are going to think I’m a freak’, he whispered.
‘You? A freak? I’m sorry but I’m the person who has black poison running down her face, not you’ you exclaimed, laughing in disbelief.
‘I dreamt of you’, he answered so quietly that you almost couldn’t make it out.
‘Yes, I dreamt of you. Countless times. I also dreamt of this a- and everything that just happened. I know this sounds stupid. You don’t have to belie-‘
‘But I do. I do believe you. But please tell me you dreamt further than this because I have no idea what we should do now!’, you begged him, grabbing his face in desperation.
The boy shook his head, his eyes closed. He looked like he was in pain.
‘You didn’t dream further than this?
‘No, I did but I can’t I jus-‘
‘Credence!’, you shouted, immediately regretting raising your voice because the pale boy was flinching.
‘I’m sorry’, you voiced, ‘but please, for the love of god, please tell me what we did!’
The boy turned his face away from you. ‘We- we kissed and then there was a bright light and it- it felt so redeeming and-‘
You cut the boy off, pressing your lips to his. You didn’t care that he was a complete stranger. All that mattered was that it felt like the most important thing you ever did in your life.

Castiel didn’t meant to say it.
His angel blade gripped tightly between white knuckles as he gulped at the air. His lungs were heaving, his eyes stinging with each blink, and his heart was thudding so loud for a second he feared it might suddenly stop.
The reaper corpse at his feet was nothing but a testament to how bottled his feelings have been, how naive he once was in thinking that he could deny it.
He loved these three people. Loved them more than his so-called family up in heaven, more than the whole of humankind that he once swore he would cherish above all else. He loved them, gave everything for them, and yet… yet he still couldn’t believe he admitted it.
‘You mean too much to me..’
His mind came back to this moment, halted by the reality of this statement. He found Mary’s eyes first. Hers were that of shock, or care, of a mother’s understanding and warmth.
Sam’s eyes were almost heartbroken. They reached out to Cas, reached into the deepest parts of Cas’ falling grace as if to convey the brotherly love that wasn’t forced, wasn’t faked or staged. There was love in their eyes, both of them, that made it easier to finally look into Dean’s eyes.
The green, perpetually keeping Castiel grounded to this earth, were misted. They were barely recognizable as tears filled then flowed over the brim. The Righteous Man was crying and Cas couldn’t for the life of him not mirror the sentiment.
The four of them stood there, the reaper forgotten, as Cas’ words hung in the air like stale crisp sheets strung up to dry in the wind.
His heart was out there, his intentions in the clear so everyone finally acknowledged it.
“I will kill a hundred more to make sure the world never sees a day without a Winchester.” And that was his final statement before the angel blade slipped from his fingers.
The clank echoed for a few wayward seconds before the eldest brother moved. It was lightning fast, almost too quick for Sam and Mary to react to right away. Not a minute passed between Cas’ lips closing and Dean’s full weight being shoved against his chest.
Embraced in that hold, the one they’ve been dancing around since the barn all those years ago, Castiel breathed in the reassurance that he was wanted.
“We love you, too.” Dean’s rough voice whispered against the side of his neck. “And we will never stop needing you.”
That night, as Cas fell asleep in arms he never thought would hold unto him so steadily, he closed his eyes in the safety of the family that would always love him.

Good Enough

Hellooooo. It’s been quite a while since I’ve written much of anything, so here’s my sorry excuse for a blurb. I figured it could be a little something fun, considering we’re still two days away from Friday. I liked the concept of it, so hopefully you enjoy. Thanks to everyone who’s followed me and liked/reblogged my other posts; it means the world!

Summary: It’s a stressful day for you. You’re meeting your boyfriend, Luke’s, family today for the first time after three months of dating.

Words: 800+

Warnings: None

“Is the skirt too tacky? The skirt’s definitely too tacky. But the dress is way too tight. Jeans are unpresentable…” you continue to mutter to yourself as you dig through your closet, the space around you looking more like a war zone than a bedroom.

“I think you’ll look gorgeous in anything, if it’s any consolation.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

“I’m serious,” says your boyfriend as he gingerly picks up one of your bras from the floor, tossing it onto the bed like it had burnt him. “Besides, it’s my family. They won’t care about how you’re dressed.”

“Okay, maybe not, but I will care,” you argue.

“Wear that dress with the polka-dots on it. You love that one.”

“I’ve had that one for like a million years,” you reply frustratedly.

The clock’s ticking, and you’re stressing. You’ve been dating Luke for nearly three months now, and you still have yet to meet his family. Needless to say, you’re pretty stressed. Your boyfriend is flipping gorgeous, not to mention talented, and you're… well, you’re you. In your eyes, first impressions are everything. Especially when you’re meeting the family of Luke Hemmings, your long-time-crush-turned-boyfriend.

“Y/N, I promise you that my family will love you no matter what. The fact that you’ve managed to put up with me for three months is impressive enough as it is,” Luke continues, quirking an eyebrow.

You sigh in exasperation and sit at the foot of the bed. “I just want to them to think I’m good enough for you,” you say dejectedly, running a hand over your tired eyes.

In all honesty, this has been one of your fears since the beginning. One of your flaws was always caring a bit too much about people liking you. And now that you’re finally dating the guy you’ve practically been in love with for two years, in addition to the fact that you’re meeting his entire family for the first time, your stress levels are amped up by a solid 100.

“That’s not even a question,” Luke retorts, moving to sit beside you. He bumps your shoulder with his own, turning his face so that his forehead is pressed into your temple. “If anything, you’re too good for me.

Your heart flutters at the compliment, but you suppress the blush you can feel rising to your cheeks. “Now you’re just being corny,” you tell your boyfriend with a smile as you stand up from the bed. As a result of leaning into you too heavily, Luke nearly faceplants into the comforter, caught off-balance. You giggle, and it causes him to grin.

“You signed up for the corniness when you agreed to date me,” he reminds you as he stands up as well, stretching his back.

You only shrug in response. “Whatever you say, Luke. Now help me pick out an outfit that your parents won’t hate me for.”

//\

Later that night, you find yourself in the Hemmings’ living room, talking and laughing with Luke’s family as if you’ve known them for years. You’re relaxed on the couch, curled into your boyfriend’s side as his arm rests on the back of the sofa behind you, and you suddenly think of how foolish you were to stress so much over your outfit.

Luke was right; in all honesty, you were foolish for even caring about what they’d think of you at all. The Hemmings family is full of kindness and acceptance, and you can see why Luke turned out to be such a good guy. You feel like you’ve met your second family, and you never want it to end. Not to mention the fact that his mother totally likes you more than she likes him, despite your boyfriend’s constant denial.

(His mother would never say it out loud, but she has a feeling that Luke and Y/N are going to last a very, very long time. At least, that’s what she’s hoping for.)

masterlist!

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so, hansung...

that last episode made me so incredibly hyped that i zoned out in three of my four classes yesterday just thinking about his character. boy am i glad i called dibs on that boy let me tell you. i should mention that everything that im about to say is under the assumption (once again) that hansung really is sixteen.

the main priority of this post isn’t just talking about his personality. i wanted to talk about hansung’s relationship with dansae, as it supports my previous post (which you can read here). to paraphrase, i basically stated that hansung, while loving them, feels his family is a burden to him for various reasons. that much was explicitly stated in episode 12.

Keep reading

The Hybrid- Part 2

Hi, hello, bonjour :)

Part 2 (A little shorter than I wanted it to be. It takes place in 3x10, I’m going to do episode by episode so it’s not too long and I can post more often. I’m in college so it’s hard to find the time to write. I hope you guys like it and please, don’t hesitate to tell me what you think ;))

Please, note that I am French, so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Enjoy :)

Part 1

Originally posted by wattpad

Takes place in 3x10

Klaus was enraged for three reasons. First, he didn’t expect being betrayed by Stefan Salvatore. Second, he never thought he’d see the day when his family would be taken from him. And finally, he didn’t understand why he cared about Ariel at all. He was worried Stefan would hurt her and if he did, it would be his fault. He was the one who had taken his humanity from him. He turned him into the ripper once again and so if he hurt Ariel, it would be entirely his fault.

Keep reading

12 days of ICU Christmas

On the first day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: A resident in a frenzy

On the second day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy

On the third day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Three Zassi tubes
Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy

On the fourth day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Four calling families
Three Zassi tubes
Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy

On the fifth day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Five levo driiiiips
Four calling families
Three Zassi tubes
Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy

On the sixth day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Six tachy patients
Five levo driiiiips
Four calling families
Three Zassi tubes
Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy

On the seventh day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Seven BPs crumping
Six tachy patients
Five levo driiiiips
Four calling families
Three Zassi tubes
Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy

On the eighth day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Eight nurses running
Seven BPs crumping
Six tachy patients
Five levo driiiips
Four calling families
Three Zassi tubes
Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy

On the ninth day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Nine vents a beepin’
Eight nurses running
Seven BPs crumping
Six tachy patients
Five levo driiiips
Four calling families
Three Zassi tubes
Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy

On the tenth day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Ten chest tubes drainin’
Nine vents a beepin’
Eight nurses running
Seven BPs crumping
Six tachy patients
Five levo driiiips
Four calling families
Three Zassi tubes
Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Eleven students gawking
Ten chest tubes drainin’
Nine vents a beepin’
Eight nurses running
Seven BPs crumping
Six tachy patients
Five levo driiiips
Four calling families
Three Zassi tubes
Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
My ICU gave to me: Twelve docs explaining
Eleven students gawking
Ten chest tubes drainin’
Nine vents a beepin’
Eight nurses running
Seven BPs crumping
Six tachy patients
Five levo driiiips
Four calling families
Three Zassi tubes
Two new admits
And a resident in a frenzy


Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night [shift]!

Mr. & Mrs. Rabbit

So Barry’s three nights in a row inspired me to write a little something. Barry and Iris’ neighbors are not exactly pleased to be living next to a madly in love young couple. 

I

Three Nights in a Row

“Oooohhhhh! Oooohhhh!”

The moan was long and low and falling in perfect time with the rhythmic thudding from the apartment next door. Irritated, or perhaps, jealous and maybe just a bit turned on Shanika turned up the sound on her music.

She preferred to study in her room but for the last three night in a row her new neighbors had disrupted her.

First who even had that much sex anyway? Second who got started that early, it was only 8 o'clock. Third how could they keep going on so long? Didn’t these people have jobs, family, other shit to do.  

They’d moved in a few weeks. It wasn’t the first time things had gotten a bit loud. And you had to be good-natured about that, right? After all people got to have sex. And who could really get mad and people enjoying some loud enthusiastic sex? Hearing it time-to-time was tolerable, but this was the third night in a row.

The first time she’d gone to study on the living room, but didn’t get much work done there. Not with her roommates traipsing about, especially Derek. Boy was too fine by far. Yesterday night she’d gone to a 24 diner. Tonight she’d hoped she could stay home.

The music ended and the woman’s pleasure came through clearly in desperate heady sobs and matched by “Oh god, oh god, oh god!” In the guy’s tenor.

“Thank fucking God.” Shanika muttered to herself. They had to be finishing. The ‘Rabbits’ couldn’t have a sex-a-thon three nights in a row.

The moaning and groaning and god praising reached its peak, the thumping stopped. Relaxed, Shanika pulled pulled out her earbuds. She hated using them. Maybe she could finally get some work done.

She managed to read for about three minutes, before the thumping and bed shaking and the god-damned moaning started again.

“Mother fucka’!”

Irritated she stormed into the living room where Derek and his buddy Mike sat watching a football.

“What?” Derek paused beer halfway to his lips.

“The Rabbits are at it again.”

Derek laughed and she rolled her eyes.

“Rabbits?” Mike asked.

Shanika ignored him.

“It’s not funny. I just heard them finish and they’re at it again and she is so loud. Come hear this shit.”

Derek exchanged glances with his friend and shrugged.

She followed Derek and his buddy to her room. Ms. Rabbit was moaning good and loud.

The two men started to snicker.

“They just finished?” Derek asked keeping his voice low.

She nodded.“Both of them.”

“Homie don’t have no refractory period?”

She shrugged.

“I wonder what they look like? Bet they’re ugly,” Mike said.

“Nah man I seen that girl, she is fine, if I had that at home…” Derek let out a breath.

Shanika frowned feeling a twinge of jealousy. It was bad enough that Ms. Rabbit was obviously getting her brains fucked out every night, did she seriously have to have Derek drooling over her too?

“I wonder if its the same guy every night?”

The three of them laughed.

“Good try man,” Derek said. “But she’s totally out of your league.”

Ms. Rabbit announced another orgasm in a long and glorious moan that served to make Shanika still more jealous and now definitely horny. The thumping and creaking went on.

Derek gave her a pitying look and smiled that dimpled smile of his, flashing white teeth in his dark face.

“Go study in my room. I know how important it is to you.”

She sighed in relief. “Thanks Derek.”

Shanika gathered her laptop along with a few other things.

“And if the Rabbits are still at it you can sleep in my room, strictly platonic of course.”

She forced a pained smile.

“Of course.”

parent | home

shallura week | day oneday threeday fourday six • parent/home | AO3
a/n: AU! unabashed no plot, all power couple fluff/ultra marrieds. this can also be read as a sequel to this!
rating: low T
warning: the level of adorable is illegal and gross, let me tell you

Their room was still relatively dark, just the comforting gray haze of dawn making everything seem closer - time slower. No determined rays of dawn wedged in the spaces between the blinds to illuminate the curtains to take him away from the edges between sleeping and awake. There wasn’t the piercing blare of an alarm, only the quiet, hazy lull where he could decide whether or not he’s ready to bring himself out of dreams and shuffle through the comforting motions of stretching and starting the first round of coffee, or -

If he wanted to stay blissfully wrapped in the duvet with her legs hooked over his.

Shiro adjusted his pillow and repositioned his body where he’s fit next to her lithe and strong frame like a puzzle piece, her hair tickling his nose when he curled toward her. Carefully, his hand moves over to ghost her side, brushing the soft skin of her belly where her t-shirt had ridden up. She hummed when his calloused fingers flexed assuredly on her waist, reaching to pull his arm the rest of the way closer to tangle her fingers with his.

“That tickles.”

He could hear the sleepy smile in her voice. Shiro pressed the curl of his own smile to her shoulder in false apology and squeezed her hand. “That wasn’t my intention.”

She snorted, more a huff of air than anything, and craned her head back to look at him her, her eyebrow raising comically high on her forehead. “Oh, you had intentions.”

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some fluffy feuilly headcanons that are really important to me because of reasons:

  • His entire wardrobe basically 99% fall clothes. so many sweaters. so many scarves.
  • Feuilly’s hands. that’s it that the headcanon.
  • He always smells a bit like fresh air and firewood.
  • Feuilly and Enjolras’s relationship has three layers: the first is that they have absolutely nothing in common at first glace and really respect each other’s differences; the second is that they are actually very alike, in passions and interests and personality and even in identity; the third is a mix of the first two in that that their experiences are actually quite different and shape how they relate (so, differently) to the same thing.
  • Feuilly adopted the entire world as his family, but the first time Valjean calls him ‘son’ or any of his friends refer to him as their brother, it sorts of take him by surprise and it makes him want to cry - because he had never even considered that it meant they adopted him too.
How old is Anders? I’ll make a semi-educated guess.

I hate math but I’m silly and it drives me nuts not having a better idea of how old Anders is. A lot of this is based on my guessing, so please do not imagine that I believe my results to be canon or accurate. 

SO! In World of Thedas Vol 2, it says “he turned twelve” when he set the family barn on fire and his father got scared and called the templars and Anders was taken away.

So we start at 12 years of age. Then it says he “made his first attempt to escape less than 6 months after arriving.” (~12.5 years) And that “after his first try, Anders made no recorded attempts to escape for more than a year. (~13.5 years) But the second time Anders slipped away from the Circle, it took the templars three weeks to find him, the next time, it took over a month.” (~14 years)

Then, “in the years when Anders and Karl were together, Anders made no attempts to escape the Circle.” And after Karl was sent to another Circle shortly following their Harrowings, “Anders endured several more years…before making his final escape.” That doesn’t mean some of his failed escape attempts didn’t occur during that time, just that it took that long to make his final escape. 

So, assuming the Harrowing doesn’t happen until you’re an adult (and assuming that Thedas/Ferelden considers an adult to be 18). That would give him the ages of ~14-18 to have been with Karl. 

But then we have the vaguely worded  “Anders endured several more years…before making his final escape.” So I’ll make a guess of another 4 years. This is where my math gets really hypothetical. So now we are up to 22 years old. 

It says his second-to-last attempt earned him a year in solitary, and “shortly after emerging from solitary confinement, Anders escaped again.” Which would be his final escape, when the templars catch him, and then he is recruited to the Grey Wardens by the Warden-Commander/Hero of Ferelden, which happens in 9:31 Dragon. Hooray, a specific year to work back from! 

So, based on my incredibly faulty math, Anders would likely be at least 22 years old by the events of Awakening. Putting his birth year at 9:09 Dragon. Probably. Maybe. 

And based on that wild stab in the dark for his age, he’d be about 32 years old in 9:41 Dragon when the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition start.

Anders having a birth year of 9:09 doesn’t sound too off the mark. Alistair is born 9:10 and Cullen is born 9:11, so he’d be around their age, which doesn’t seem outside the realm of possibility. 

Food for thought. This was fun to try to figure out, anyway. :)

EDIT: With some more insight/information, I have updated my estimate of Anders’ age to 42 in DAI!

10

578 Elk Glen Road

Here is another one of my first builds in the sims 4, way before I knew how to decorate correctly, however I thought I would upload it furnished for funs. Obviously you can redecorate the place because its not really well done, haha. Anyways its a two bedroom one bathroom home, perfect for a small family. A family of three with a daughter currently lives in it, in my save so the second bedroom is rather girly. Its the purple house so there is a lot of purple in it. I hope you enjoy the download, and like always tag me if you use my home so I can see your cute sims using it! (As always the CC list is included in the download, I have every TS4 ep and sp, however I think this was just after the Get To Work ep so you might only need those eps and sps up to there, however if you dont have them, the game will replace it with base-game items!!!) [edit: as you can see there is a spooky day item in this pack so you might want that as well for the pumpkin carving table]

Shoutout to all the creators of cc for the sims 4 , you rock! :D

Download

Change of Identity

Warnings: some language

Word Count: 2006

Request: “Oh my gosh! You NEED to do a second part to ‘You’re a Winchester’! It was so amazing!”

A/N: Here is Part Two to the 'You’re a Winchester’ series! Thanks for all the love on Part One. Please let me know what you think of this one, and if I should keep going with the series! (See Part One for the summary)

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |

It had been one month since you saw your mother for the first time. One month since you saw her lying dead in own blood. One month since you read those three words written into her flesh.

One month since you had started living the life of a hunter.

After discovering your dead mother, you knew that you had no other life to go back to, or at least any life that meant something. You felt that by following in your father’s footsteps, (even if you had never met the man), your life wouldn’t be so meaningless. You could help others. Save others.

Becoming a hunter of a world full of evil that you knew next-to-nothing about, would require some research. You spent days upon days sitting in the library, flitting your eyes from lore books to books on mythology to historical records.

By the end of the week, you had only gotten a few hours of sleep and your brain felt like it was going to explode at any moment.

After the initial adrenalin that fueled your days of intensive studying of the supernatural, you hotwired a low-key car, and fled the state, leaving all memories of your mother and the orphanage behind you in Illinois.

With a stolen credit card as your currency, you booked out a motel room in which you intended to stay in for a while, as you trained up and continued to research about the odd evil beings of the world.

During that month, you created some twisted form of a life for yourself. You bought yourself new clothes, would exercise every day for a few hours, train with various kinds of weapons, and would spend the fall of night expanding your knowledge and exploring articles online to see if there was ever any weird happenings going on in your area.

But most of all, you created an identity for yourself. You decided that Y/N Fulligan was going to run you into trouble down the line, as it was the name you had used all your life for all sorts of files across the board. It was too risky. So instead, you decided to take up your father’s name, as it would carry a further hunting aspect into your new life. And you also thought that Y/N Winchester had a nice ring to it.

So it had been one month since your entire life changed.

You felt like you had read all that you could, and had become a much healthier and fitter person who was actually in a shape to fight off monsters. But you felt like there was almost some unfinished business that you needed to attend to.

And that was to find your father, John Winchester.


One week. Turned into one month. Which turned into three months.

And still, you were barely any closer to finding your father.

You spent months travelling around various towns of different states, when you decided that staying in Iowa was getting you nowhere. So you packed your few belongings into your hotwired car, and drove off to various states.

At first you were totally lost, as you had no clue on how to track down John Winchester, as the only information you had to go on was his name and that he was a hunter.

After a little thinking and planning, you decided the best way to go was to keep an eye on the newspapers, articles and police radio for any mysterious cases that could be right up your new line of work.

By working on these cases, you were bound to find other hunters possibly working the same case as you, therefore you could ask about John Winchester and his whereabouts. In addition to hopefully gaining some knowledge of your father, you would be able to make a start into committing yourself to the job of a hunter, as you would be able to assist any other hunters with solving the case and killing the evil behind it.

So that’s what you did. For three months.

You travelled around searching for cases, and most of the time would meet up with other hunters. You asked about what they knew about John Winchester, but unfortunately most hadn’t heard from him in years. But nevertheless, you never gave up.

In the meantime, you acted like a true hunter: researching for cases, imposing as an FBI agent, and killing whatever evil son of a bitch was causing mischief. You felt a new kind of adrenalin you had never felt in your life. It was exhilarating, exciting, frightening and tiring all at once. But you loved it.


It was just a regular day for you. You had come across a case in Ottawa, Kansas, where three victims in the past few days had been murdered, with their heart missing. You knew it had to be a werewolf, but you needed to research into the case deeper before going after the mutt.

You discovered a dusty motel room to accommodate you for a few days while you worked this case out. Bringing in your duffel bag to the room, you threw it on the ground as you slumped onto the bed. You felt drained and somewhat exhausted from the constant demand that the hunting lifestyle involved.

However, against your body’s desires, you snatched the keys from your pocket and headed to your car, in search of a local bar.

Entering the bar was not a new experience for you, as it was a place where you could come and take your mind off hunting and the ever-continuous search for your father. Although, it was also a place where other hunters would do the same, allowing you to gather any scraps of information you could on John Winchester.

Slowly you wandered over to the bar, asking the older-looking barman for a beer. He looked at you up and down before loudly sighing and reaching for a flask.

You’d think that being 18 and all, that bars wouldn’t be allowed to serve you any form of alcohol, but you found that most bars don’t really seem to mind as long as they were getting business. On the odd occasion that they question your age, you’d flash them a fake ID you had made up, before giving a smirk as you accepted your drink.

The barman set down your beer, as you placed a note on the counter, and walked off to an empty table.

You quietly gulped down your beer, as you observed the characters of the bar. You were on the lookout for a potential werewolf, or someone who looked like they could be a hunter. You examined the entirety of the bar with no luck. Until you saw two men enter the bar, and set themselves down at a booth, which sat close by to the table at which you were situated.

The taller of the two pulled out a laptop, and immediately began to type, while the other man pulled out what looked like a file, filled with newspaper clippings and photographs.

Upon further subtle observation, you concluded that these two men were hunters, judging by the type of research they seemed to be doing, they were in a bar, and their chiseled, built physiques suggested that their job or lifestyle was physically demanding.

With a final skull of your beer, you stood up from your chair and wandered over to the pair of men.

You were standing by their table, but the deep gazes their faces showcased let you know that they hadn’t even registered that there was someone beside them. Awkwardly, you gave a small cough before asking, “So what’s that you are working on there?”

Both men looked up at you, looking slightly taken aback, before looking at each other and sharing some form of unspoken communication.

The man with the shorter, lighter-coloured hair, gave you a forced smile before responding, “It’s nothing super important.” He looked at you up and down with judgmental eyes as he continued with a sarcastic tone, “So why don’t you run along to your sorority and study up for your high school finals.”

Your face dropped at the comment. Here you were thinking they could help, but it just seemed that they were some grade A douche-bags, that could tell you were young and therefore didn’t think you needed to know about ‘grown-up’ things. However, you did see the other man give a hard bitch-face to him, which made your mouth curl up a little.

You were about to leave them, thinking that they weren’t hunters as you had previously thought, until a photograph of one of the victims caught your eye. You then had a quick glance at what the long, brown-haired man was searching on his laptop. Werewolves.

“You are hunters, aren’t you?!” you exclaimed to them.

Again, they looked taken aback, with their faces showing hints of confusion and maybe even some fascination.

The smart-arse from before, scrunched his eyebrows as he responded, “Yeah we are. What? Are you?”

“More or less,” you smirked. Both men gave a small laugh, as they motioned for you to pull up a chair and sit with them.

The man with shaggy hair spoke as you began to take a seat, “My name’s Sam. And this over here is my charming brother Dean.” Dean gave a smug smile, as you laughed softly.

You extended your hand to Sam, “Y/N.” He accepted the gesture with a smile, before you retracted your arm and did the same to Dean.

You continued to smile, until you remembered why you came over in the first place. And it wasn’t regarding the werewolf. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Um, so the reason I came over here is because I was wondering if you could help me out. I’ve been looking for a man all over the place, and I was wondering if you might know him or where he is at the moment, because he’s a hunter, so I figured you might know something.”

Sam continued to type at his laptop as you spoke, but you could tell he was listening intently. It was Dean that responded. “Ah, yeah, I guess so. We’ll do the best we can. What’s his name, sweetheart?”

Your attention focused on Dean as you stated, “John Winchester.”

Dean’s eyes widened at the mention of his name, and you noticed the absence of the sound of Sam typing away on his laptop. When you looked at Sam, his expression replicated his brother’s.

Confused by their reaction, you asked hesitantly, “Why do you know who he is?”

Sam clenched his jaw before answering with a flat tone, “Yeah, actually. He’s our father.”

You just sat there, mouth slightly ajar. Their father. Your heart began racing, as you spoke aloud to yourself, “Sam and Dean Winchester.”

You could see that both brothers were confused by your reaction and, what would be, an obvious statement.

It was too crazy to be real. But then you thought that Winchester could just be a popular last name, as John is a popular first name. You mentally calmed yourself down as you thought of a way to know for sure.

“Wait, what is the date of your parent’s wedding anniversary?” you asked questioningly, as you looked at both brothers.

You asked them that question because you knew your father’s wedding anniversary with his deceased wife was May 17th, as it was the same day that he and your mother had the one-night fling where you were conceived.

Dean looked at you confusion still in his expression, but nevertheless answered, “May 17th.”

You instantly shot up from your seat, and began to pace beside the table, taking it all in. It was just too much to take in.

Sam and Dean exchanged worried glances, before Dean gave a nervous laugh, and asked, “Wait. Why are you asking us this? What’s it to you?”

You immediately stopped pacing, and looked straight into Dean’s eyes, as you replied, “Because I’m your sister.”

My mom died

3 weeks ago I lost my best friend from life, my mom. I’ve yet to cry. I’m perpetually sad. I saw the doctor the other day because the week she died (after almost 3 weeks in hospital and 2 major abdominal surgeries and me staying with her) I found a pea size lump in my lower left breast. I’m going to have a second mammogram soon (my yearly was ok Oct) and she and I are both hoping it’s just stress or too much caffeine. Anyway as I reflect on the past three weeks and as I look at one of my diagnosis codes was grief, I realized as I was taking care of my mom and dealing with a job/family issues, the one thing I let go was me. Today I started my journey of self care. I attended church for the first time since she got really sick, I exercised with my husband by walking with our boxer for 2 miles and I’ve done a lot of reflecting on where I want my life to go in the next 25 years and arrive at the age my mom and her mother were when they passed away. I may live 25 more years but I decided I need to take on this and have the life I deserve and need to stay sane. No special reason for posting, just something I needed to get off my chest being semi-anonymous on Tumblr. If you read this, no comment needed just thanks 🙏🏻 for reading.

Chicago PD fic: More Than Meets the Eye

Title: More Than Meets the Eye

Summary: A series of post-ep missing scenes between Halstead and Lindsay.  Begins with 3X11 “Knocked the Family Right Out” and will continue through season four. Spoilers up to the current episode 4X16 “Emotional Proximity” (will continue to change as episodes air)

A/N: This is my first foray into writing Linstead.  I’ve been writing Olicity for a couple of years and before that I tackled House, CSI and NCIS.  But I’ve recently started watching Chicago PD and I have to admit, I was immediately hooked and have now binged the first three seasons and am completely caught up… and more than a little in love with Linstead.  Let me know what you think please!

Read on AO3 or ff.net.

Knocked the Family Right Out

The panic strikes hot and fast the minute that he sees the name on the lease.  Tawny Darren.  Their second victim is somehow involved in all of this.  And Erin is with her right now.  Alone.

The second the words are out of his mouth, they’re rolling out.  He’s barely keeping it together.  He knows he needs to.  For the sake of the team.  For Erin. He’s no good to her if he can’t keep his head on straight.  She’s smart. Strong, resourceful, resilient. He knows she doesn’t need to be rescued, not often, but the thought of her walking into a trap - one set by a man who raped a fourteen year old girl – sends his protective instincts into overdrive. She’s a good cop, his partner, but she’s also the woman that he loves.

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3

Happy AlWin day everyone~!!

Omg, I’m sorry it took me a while to post this, I only just got home ^^’

Anyways, here is my contribution for AlWin day and as you guys can see I went for a “family/domestic” theme ;)

On the first doodle we have Al and Winry, with her pregnant of her their first child, maybe, and being two adorable lil’ things <3

On the second doodle we have the two again, this time with their oldest child, Trisha and their middle child, Urey, who looks like Ed.

How ironic XDDD

And lastly we have a doodle of the three children together: Trisha (the kind and yet protective  sister), Urey (the quiet child) and Nina (the cutie).

Well, I hope you guys enjoy~!!!

Give me Adam coming back from college and Ronan and Opal going to get him at the airport. Give me the two of them so excited that they run to hug Adam so quickly that he hasn’t even seen them. Give me Opal reaching him first and clinging to his leg and all the people around looking at them like “awww” and Ronan gets time to regain his cool for like 5 seconds before Adam smiles at him and says “hi” and Ronan just grabs him and kisses him but Opal doesn’t let go of his leg.

Give me the three of them getting back to the Barns and Opal doesn’t let go of Adam’s hand and Chainsaw flies to him as soon as she hears him. Give me this family cuddling in the couch so happy to be together again at home.

Give me Opal sneaking into Adam and Ronan’s room at night and Ronan trying to get her out but in the end she gets to sleep in between and it doesn’t matter because Adam looks so happy and they are all so happy.

Give me everything with these three.

Fic: The Scanner

This is the next installment in my Anakin survives ROTJ AU, originally meant to be a oneshot for anghraine and now apparently a monster AU ‘verse. It follows The Guiding Winds and Nature Nurture Heaven and Home.

I’m blaming this mostly on grand-duc, who has encouraged me with talk of Uncle Iroh!Anakin. I’m still gonna write that fic, but first I have to get Anakin to that point.

Also, for everyone who was wondering what mysterious device Anakin was working on in Nature Nurture Heaven and Home, here’s your answer.

The Scanner

Luke didn’t think his father had actually slept for the last three days at least, though it was sometimes hard to tell with him. He had an uncanny knack for sleeping with his eyes open.

They’d been on Tatooine for nearly five weeks now, but they were still living in the shuttle. Kitster Banai (his uncle, Luke thought, and it was no less astonishing now than it had been when they’d met four weeks ago) had of course offered his family’s hospitality, but Anakin could only sleep inside his hyperbaric medical chamber, and they certainly didn’t have the resources to construct one in Kitster’s home.

So they’d stayed on the ship. Anakin shrugged it off. “I’ve spent most of my life on ships,” he said, and the rest remained unspoken. But Luke thought he understood it all the same. I’m not sure I’d know how to live in a home, his father didn’t say.

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