months. That’s how long almost half of the new hire last when they
become social workers. Some will tell you it’s the pay, others will tell
you it’s the stress, still others will complain about poor training or
case overload or the broken system. But that’s all bullshit. The reason
they quit is always the same; the kids.
A noise at the trapdoor above the basement makes Luna snap to attention. If it’s the Manor’s house elf, Shiny, he’ll have food (and Luna is so hungry. She’s almost as hungry as she is cold), but if it’s not… Luna shudders. She’s no stranger, after a term at Hogwarts under the Carrows, to the Crutiatus Curse, but that Bellatrix woman doesn’t care about spilling blood.
To be safe, Luna draws back under the blanket she’d found folded next to her upon waking once - she doesn’t know if it had been morning or not - beneath a sack of apples and pumpkin juice. As far as she can tell, the other inhabitants of the basement are asleep. Olivander spends much of his time asleep, and she can’t hear Griphook cursing in the dark. Dean she’s not sure about.
The door swings open, and the light makes Luna blink. At its top, though, isn’t Shiny….or Bellatrix. Instead, Draco Malfoy, dressed in robes that remind Luna of Ravenclaw (oh goodness, her common room) stands, peering down at them. It must be Easter break.
Your thoughts… are material. Warning, lmao - The plot is very-very raw and I will probably rewrite it or add something new ://
The trapped soul was born from the old horror story for kids. Children believed that if you look at your mirror in midnight without light, an evil spirit will appear, cut you and steal your soul from the wound on your chest, hiding and torturing it in the eternal darkness forever. They was so scared but stupid at the same time - they tried to summon the Trapped Soul so many times and once the legend actually worked. Someone answered the call. One kid died from the blood loss in front of this mirror, and it was dumped, left alone.
Reaper, a rich guy who loves to buy old stuff, bought this mirror. Shop assistant insisted to take an old hammer too, for free. She knew the legend and she was happy to sell this cursed mirror to someone, just to avoid troubles. Reaper had problems with paranoia, anxiety. He placed the mirror in the basement, his storage of old stuff and totaly forgot about it, about the hammer, too. But once? Late at night, Reaper heard noises from the basement. He went to look. It was midnight. He never found anything suspicious, he was about to go to sleep again, but suddenly something catched his attention. He turned around and saw how the cursed mirror was glowing red, and then the Trapped Soul appeared in front of him. Once it was summoned, it will never fade away.
- Reaper was the one who gave the Trapped Soul a name. Geno. - No one, except for Reaper can see him in the mirror, no matter if it’s night or day. Reaper is the only one person Geno wants to show himself to. - Geno, surely, can hear Reaper speak, but Reaper can’t hear him. Geno talks in gestures/ they use the ouija board. - They become good friends after a while, at first Reaper thought he’s going crazy from being alone all the time but then he made himself believe. Apparently, his family died. No one left, and he found his life meaning in buying stuff no one needs. He thinks he’s stuff no one needs; he want’s to be bought, too? - After 2 or 3 years, maybe, Reaper started developing feelings for a reflection. Once Geno said he wants to be saved, he wants to thank Reaper for stucking with him for so long, to see the world. This is where the actual story starts.
You can shatter the cursed mirror and kill the Trapped Soul with the Holy Hammer only.
The fight was over, the bitch was dead, all should’ve been well and good, right? Wrong. Her head had bounced off the cold concrete floor of the basement, a loud cracking noise sounding throughout the empty abandoned house.
“Sammy!” Dean yelled, his voice breaking, much like her skull.
“What? What happen- oh no.” Sam ran to meet Dean, crouching on the floor, hovering over her unconscious body.
“Sweetheart, please. I need you to wake up.” Dean begged as her eyes fluttered open. “That’s my girl.”
“I’m not your,” she sputtered, groaning and reaching up to hold her head. “Not your girl.” A defiant pout came over her features, making Dean smile through the tears pouring from his eyes.
“Not my girl.” He shook his head. “You’ve always been my girl. Now I need you to do something for me, okay?”
She gave him a small nod and clenched her eyes shut, waiting for his request.
“Stay awake. You gotta stay awake, sweetheart.” He pleaded.
“Dean, I’m so tired…” Her voice faded as she unclamped her eyes and let her facial muscles relax.
“I know, but me and Sammy gotta get you to a hospital. I need you to stay awake. Promise me you will.” Dean was crumbling, trying his best to stay strong for her and for his brother.
“Promise I’ll try, Winchester. But I’m not your girl.” The right corner of her mouth pulled up into the tiniest smile. “You haven’t asked me yet.” She looked up at him with a faint glimmer of hope behind her eyes.
Dean took the hint, gently pressing his lips against hers, his lower lip molding between the two of hers, barely moving, just feeling one another’s kiss for the first time. They stayed there, faces touching, conjoined at the mouth, until she pulled back to take in a breath. Her last breath before her head slumped against his chest and her body went limp in his arms.
(Boyf Riends 12) “I found you—snuggling with my jacket, peacefully asleep”
“Harder!” The voice of some chick getting it in moaned out. Thank god for low quality cable porn.
“Probably faking it.” Jeremy mumbled, sinking into the beanbag chair in his best friend’s basement. He scratched the top of his head, feeling…strange. Not his usually uncomfortable strange this was a …something wasn’t right strange. First off, he wasn’t really into the porn. Secondly, he was watching it with a less interested Michael. Both of them were just staring off at the tv.
“His dick is probably fake too.” Michael added reaching over to grab more chips out of the bag. “The pizza in this looks good though.” Yet another delivery boy plot, did porn always come with such cookie cutter story? Did people watch porn for the story?
Jeremy shot his small, lack-daisy friend a look of curiosity. “Why are you looking at the guy’s dick” He smirked a bit trying to be funny. He half expected a half assed answer from Michael. Instead, Mr. Mell fell silent for a long moment and reached for the remote.
He turned off the tv and chucked the remote control across the room. “Why are we watching porn together?”
“Well…did you have something else to watch?”
Michael’s lips turned into a small frown, he didn’t have anything else in mind other than getting high and hanging around with his best friend.
Nothing but Michael didn’t want Jeremy to go … not yet. There wasn’t a need to get high or pretend to be, he felt a natural calm and joy radiating off his best friend right next to him. There wasn’t a need to get high or pretend to be, he felt a natural calm and joy radiating off his best friend right next to him. Jeremy was like the sun, all the warmth and none of the burn. “We can play some Mario Kart” Michael smiled. “What do you say player 2?”
His tall friend eyed up the controller being offered to him. He reached out, his long fingers brushing up against Michael’s hand. “I’m always game to be your player 2.” Jeremy, when he didn’t try so hard, could manage to be so smooth. Those beady blue eyes under a light frame of pale lashes, Michael’s little heart hammered against his ribs. Michael practically flung himself at the beanbag chair beside Jeremy’s. “Michael I swear to god if you pick rain–”
“RAINBOW ROAD BABY!” Michael wailed giving Jeremy a wink.
“You’re the kind of guy that likes to see the world burn, aren’t cha?” Jeremy pressed the palm of his hand against his face, hiding the flushed smile he sported. Michael’s outbursts never ceased to make him smile. Even if they did come at the expense of sounding all too lame. It was good lame, the lame that complimented Jeremy’s lame. They were two lames that managed to be cool when they were only exposed to each other.
Michael picked his character and kicked up his feet, sinking further into the beanbag. “No way, I’m all about sunshines and rainbows!~” The game began and the room was filled with grunts, empty threats, toying taunts and laughter. So much laughter echoed off the walls of his basement. They had enough noise to drown out the biggest party and to Michael this was the raddest party around. He needed nothing more than good times and his best… His…
Michael made the mistake of taking his eyes off the third lap, he watched Jeremy. The say he swayed as if he was really riding the turns of the course. His eyes wide with competitive excitement. His arms so far out past his knees he looked like he was going to nose dive into the tv. What a dork. What a cute…dork, Michael’s face felt warm. Then— “AHH I FELL OFF” He screeched watching as his character barreled down the endless abyss and Jeremy’s character crossed the finish line.
“HAAAA, Kiss my ass Michael~” Jeremy laughed so hard his nose wrinkled and a snort slipped out. He brought a hand to his mouth and tried to smother the unattractive nose out. Meanwhile Michael melted into his cushion. He pulled the collar of his red jacket, trying to hid his clearly smitten expression.
“Rematch and we’ll see about that ass kissin’” He bit his tongue a little, his voice just a touch to high and excited. Hours of laughter drifted into soft conversations between matches. Finally, Michael heard a delicate yawn come out of his long legged friend.
Jeremy leaned back against the beanbag, his body sinking into the cushion. Michael took that moment while Jeremy’s eyes were closed to look him over. His face looking more at ease than any time he had been high off Marley. “Mike…mind if I crash here?”
Michael felt a jolt of energy surge through him. It had been a good minute since Jeremy stayed over. “Course’ not!” The excitement was getting too real, he slid off his jacket and hopped to his feet. “I’ll get the spare pillows from upstairs” he started bounding up the stairs.
Jeremy chuckled and sleepily muttered just as Michael passed, “how are you always so happy, Mike?”
There was no answer. Michael scaled the stairs and went right to the linen closet. He pulled only the softest pillows and blanket for Jeremy. He felt his heart squeeze and everything in him coiled up like a tightly wound spring. He pressed the pillow against his face and sighed, what was he doing? These feelings, his crazy feelings for his best friend. “Stupid, stupid.” He shook his head, he couldn’t do this to himself. To Jeremy, it wasn’t fair. Why ruin this good thing they had? He wouldn’t, if keeping Jeremy meant hiding all these feelings for the rest of his life…then he would.
Once he calmed down he started back down the stairs. “Yo, I got you some quality linens, you can still smell the fabric softener in these puppies.” He chuckled and got no response. “Jer?” He peeked around and walked over to the beanbag and blushed. There was his best friend, his gangly long limbed bestie coiled awkwardly into a ball. Like he didn’t know how tall he really was, he tried to tuck those legs under Michael’s jacket he was using as a blanket. “A-ah…” He muttered watching as Jeremy pulled the jacket closer to his chest and held it close. “…you’re making it hard not to fall in love with you…especially when you’re snuggling my jacket, peacefully asleep like that…” He frowned a bit, his fingers itching to touch the small tuff of hair against his pale forehead.
Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader Request: Could you maybe do something with “losing your virginity too Peter maximoff (from x-men)” I don’t care if it’s a Drabble or an imagine. Thank you<3 Word Count: 2213 Words Warning: Fluff, smut, Peter being cute, swearing A/N: I made Peter a virgin because feeeeelss. Also please, please, please give feedback, this is my first time writing smut and I am more then a little nervous. (Loosely based of Overnight Sensation by BORNS) Tagging: @notsoprettykitty, @quiskcilver, @sparklyspikes, @the-holy-honey-buddha-chip-bag (let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged)
((gif not mine, credit to owner))
are like fleeting glances to Peter. Everything happens so quickly that he can’t
even register what’s going on sometimes. But right now everything is quiet,
slow and calm. You’re sitting on Peter’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck as
his hands tightly hold onto your hips as if you would fly away. His grasp, and
your lips moving against each other’s is what’s anchoring you to here; here in
Peter’s basement, white noise from the world around, but you two are off in
your own little world.
mom had taken the girls out a while ago, something about a school meeting. You
both weren’t sure, but didn’t really care because as soon as Peter’s mom closed
the door he was tugging at your wrist to come cuddle with him. Which turned
into more. You both have some idea of
where this may go, your relationship for the last few months has been going
anywhere, but down. Yet, there is some hesitation, you can taste it on Peter’s
lips when you slide your hand between your bodies. You think you feel Peter
suck in a sharp breathe, but ignore it as your lips are warm against another’s.
Then he lets out a shuddering breath inching away slightly. That you noticed.