the way he got dragged off his feet

The Mysterious Case of Missing Moose Items

Warnings: None. Just fluffiness
Characters: Sam & Dean Winchester, Sister Winchester Reader
Summary: You keep taking Sam’s stuff
Reader’s Age: Any
Word Count: 588(like I said it’s a drabble)

Y/N: Your Name

A/N: Wrote half of this awhile ago when I still had my laptop and I finished it a few days ago and boom here it is! Also figured y'all needed something nice and fluffy after the last imagine… Heh… Enjoy!


“Dean, have you seen my laptop?” Sam asked his brother, looking frantically around the library.

“No. Did you lose it?”

Sam gave Dean the classic Winchester bitch-face. “If I hadn’t lost it, I wouldn’t be asking you,” Sam snarked.

“Well looks like you also just lost my help,” Dean picked up his book and walked off.


Sam’s alarm clock blared in his room and startled him awake. He rolled over with a groan and shut it off. Sighing, he got up and dragged his feet, heavy with sleep, over to his dresser. Sam opened a drawer, realizing he only had two flannels left. With a confused look, Sam took one of the two flannels left and came to the conclusion that simply no one’s done the laundry in awhile.

Sam had a shower, got dressed and made his way to the library.

“Is Y/N up yet?” Sam asked once he saw Dean scrolling on his laptop, feet up on the table and leaning back in a chair.

“Not that I know of,” Dean answered, noticing Sam’s flannel. “Didn’t you wear that a few days ago?”

“I thought so too…” Sam looked down at his clothes, “All my shirts and flannels are disappearing. Has anyone done the laundry?”

“Yeah. Y/N did it yesterday,” Dean told Sam, fianlly getting into this odd mystery.

“Maybe she hasn’t brought my clothes to my room yet.” Sam said just above a whisper, but with the quiet that the Bunker always had, Dean heard.


“Dean!” Sam yelled from down the hall, peeking his head out of his bedroom door.

“What?!” Dean yelled back, not bothering to get up from his comfy spot in a chair.

“Did you take one of my books?” Sam yelled back, walking around the corner into the kitchen.

Dean called back, “Dude, I haven’t taken any of your stuff.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed together, wondering why his stuff keeps magically disappearing.

Sam’s thoughts were interrupted as he saw you waltz into the kitchen. His eyes instantly went to the flannel you were wearing, not just any flannel, his flannel.

Sam cleared his throat. “Y/N?” You turned around, giving him a silent cue to continue. “Is that my flannel?” He pointed to the giant red plaid flannel you were wearing. You looked down at it and fiddled with the soft, long sleeves.

“Uhmmm… no?” you answered, avoiding Sam’s eyes in hopes he won’t make you give them back.

“Are you the one stealing my stuff?” Sam couldn’t help the grin that wormed it’s way in.

“Okay,” you huffed in defeat. “I usually just take like one or two of your flannels, but then I kept losing them so I kept taking more…”

Sam gave you a straight and unreadable face, making you crack like an egg. “They’re comfy!” you defended, waving your hands around and the long sleeves flew around, nearly hitting a pan.

“I want my flannels back, and all the other stuff you took from me,” Sam chuckled, “but… you can keep one.

“Fine…” You pouted, shuffling back to your room to find all the hidden flannels you stole. Dean started laughing as he watched the mystery unfold.

“I don’t get why she goes after my things,” Sam chuckled.

“As long as she doesn’t take my stuff…” Dean snarked, earning an eye roll from Sam. “Y'know… Some of my blankets have been going missing- Y/N!!” Dean yelled, racing out of the kitchen after you as he heard Sam burst out laughing.

I hope y'all like this one! I’m open for tips on improving!

Tagging: @magicalsis11, @joanne-egberp, @16wiishes, @ledledledledled, @fanboyswhereare-you, @athenepallas, @sammyfrigginwinchester, @spnkisum, @xsecretrejectx, @pretty-odd-jenn, @jamies-supernatural-world, @oneshotsdeanshort, @jiggysupernatural, @jensen-jarpad, @capruinedmylife, @bea789, @beholders-chroniclers, @starswirlblitz, @of-virtuoso

(Just cause I love the title so much I gotta give cred to @20secspnfam4 who came up with it XD)
Don’t Dream, It’s Over

“Do it again.” Jay says rigidly before rubbing his temples.

Loco nods and repeats the verse he had been spitting for the past seven takes. The beat gets cut again and the rapper looks out the booth window biting his lip in anticipation.

“Still a bit off. One more time.” Jay says again sighing.

The engineer was about to press play for the beat to start when Chacha stopped his hand and pressed the intercom instead.

“Take five, ‘Co.” he tells his younger friend.

Hyukwoo sighs in relief and exits the booth. Chase whispers something to him to which he nods and exits the studio.

Keep reading

Those who are Broken | Chapter Eight

Everyone has a soulmate. Except the Broken.

↬ Word count: 3195

I spent most of the weekend writing for ten minutes before going back to bed with a heating pad and accepting death. Ya girl got this shit in check

Chapter list

Originally posted by gothdollysedits

You eventually found your way back to your apartment. After leaving Taehyung, you were so pissed at how stupid he was, that you went for a walk around the academy. There was no point in lying when you know you were lost hours ago and had no idea where to go to find something that looked familiar. You also hated yourself for being that mad that you ended up lost. You haven’t been that mad since you were first kicked out of the orphanage—briefly kicked out if you were going to be technical.

After punching in the code, you entered your apartment just as Jimin came in through your window. As he looked up, the two of you met gazes in complete, awkward silence.

You forgot to lock your fucking window.

You looked away, not wanting to feel your heart race and those damn butterflies flutter in your stomach. Looking down towards his chest region, something red caught your attention. Looking down towards his hand, you noticed blood trickling. You were at his side within seconds, taking his bloody hand in yours.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? We should clean it up,” you said in a rush, the tips of your fingers trying to lightly wipe away the blood so that you could see how deep the wound on his knuckles were. You felt him flinch. You apologized, looking up at him. He was staring down at you in slight surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when nothing came out. You took a step back, letting go of his hand. “We should clean that up. I have a first aid kit in the bathroom,” you informed, turning around and walking towards your bathroom without even giving a glance in his direction.

What is wrong with you? What the hell happened back there?

When did you become concerned for Jimin? That’s the question that should be asked.

But you knew. You knew exactly why you were like this. And you were beginning to hate yourself for it.

“Keep your hand under the water,” you told him, going for the first aid kit in the mirror cabinet. You heard him turn on the sink water. Turning back towards him, you placed the kit on the counter, opening the lid and began to pull out the necessities. Grabbing the towel from the corner of the counter, you carefully took his hand from under the water and began to lightly pat his cut dry. Tossing the towel to the ground, you began to work on cleaning and bandaging his hand.

You were quiet as you tried your best not to hurt him, but you knew the ointment would sting. You apologized to him several times when he lightly flinched, but he remained quiet. When you finished taking care of his hand, you looked up at the small cut on his lip. You cupped his cheeks, careful not to touch him with your finger covered in ointment, and brought him to eye level. With your finger, you lightly dabbed the ointment on his cut before placing a Band-Aid over it.

You finally went from his lips to meet his eyes. It was then that you realized how close the two of you were. You wanted to jump back, but played it off by turning your attention to the first aid kit. You began to pack up. “You didn’t come here to have your cuts cleaned,” you began, placing the items back in the box, “so why are you here?”

“Is he okay?” he asked, somewhat avoiding your question.

“Who? Taehyung?” you asked, and when he didn’t reply, it confirmed your answer. “He’s being an idiot—just like you.” You closed the lid to the first aid kit and placed it back to its original place. “Whatever the hell the two of you are fighting over, get over it and apologize.” Turning to face him, you were met with a blank stare. Growing frustrated by his lack of expression, you rolled up your sleeves and ran a hand through your hair. “I don’t know how Taehyung is because I yelled at him, too.” You walked past him. “So, if you want to know how he’s doing, go ask Jungkook, or ask him yourself.”

You sometimes wondered if he was as stubborn as Taehyung. He never apologizes first, and he would never admit to being in the wrong. Either he was right, or you’d probably never hear from him again. With you, however, Taehyung never disappeared off the face of the earth when the two of you fought. He would disappear for a couple of hours and come back to “apologize.” The funny thing is, Taehyung never actually apologizes. He either bought you something cute to say how sorry he was, or “I’m sorry, I was wrong” sex. Usually the latter.

You made your way towards the front door, telling him, “Taehyung should either be somewhere wandering around, or at his place. You can go look for him there.” Grabbing the handle, you were about to turn it when Jimin grabbed your hand. A small yelp escaped past your lips as he spun you around to face him. You stared up at him, his eyes on you before traveling down to his hand holding yours. You followed his gaze until your eyes landed on his name inked on your inner wrist. You immediately covered it with your hand.

“My name is on your wrist,” he said in a low voice. Using his other hand, he lightly grabbed a hold of your hand covering your wrist. You weakly gave in, letting him move your hand back to your side. “Why?”

You let out a soft scoff. “You make it sound like I know. I’m guessing because of all the encounters we had, and all the persistence coming from you,” you told him, looking off to the side. “I’m more broken than before.” He brushed his fingers along your wrist—as if he was trying to wipe it away. “I’ve already tried—” A sudden knock interrupted you causing you to jump a bit. You turned your head towards the door behind you, but Jimin carefully cupped your cheek, turning your attention back towards him. He shook his head.

The knock came again. “Cupcake, open up. I need to talk to Jimin,” Taehyung said from the other side of the door.

Jimin? How does Taehyung know Jimin is at your place?

“How did you know I was here?” Jimin asked, eyes still on you.

The butterflies in your stomach were multiplying.

“You came in through her window like a fucking creep. If you’re going to be sneaking into people’s apartments, at least do it when no one is looking,” Taehyung replied, voice low and exhausted. “Can you open the door?”

Jimin took several steps back, allowing you to open the door for the brunette waiting outside. You turned around, unlocking the door, and opened it. Taehyung leaned a hand against the doorframe, several cuts on his cheek and corner of his lip. His clothes were dirty, and his hair disheveled.

“Taehyung, what the hell happened to you?” you asked, opening the door more for him to enter.

Pushing himself off the doorframe, his familiar box-like grin appeared on his face. “I ran into Seohyun and her boy toy—”

Before he could finish his statement, a figure appeared out of nowhere, tackling Taehyung to the ground. Jimin was out in the hall in an instant, staring down the hall where you could hear grunts and fists meeting body parts. Jimin opened his mouth to say something, but another figure appeared from behind him, attacking him and both falling to the ground.

“Jimin!” As you took one step towards the hallway to stop the fight that was happening, you felt something hard hit your cheek.

Your cheek stung as you turned your head to see a familiar face smirking at you. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” Seohyun said, bringing her hand back and throwing a punch in your direction. You threw yourself backwards, barely missing her fist. You stumbled a bit, but quickly regained your balance as you watched Seohyun enter your apartment and run straight for you. When you moved to the side, watching her stumble past you, she yelled, “Why the hell are you ruining my life!” She turned back around to throw another punch in your direction, but she missed again. “First you leave a cut on my face—ruining my party.” She threw another punch, missing you again. “Now you’re trying to steal Jimin away from me!”

Steal him away? You don’t even talk to Jimin, and she’s accusing you of stealing him from her? She can have Jimin all she wants—

Seohyun took advantage of the confused look on your face, and brought her fist to your cheek. You stumbled back. “Come on, you stupid bitch. I thought you were the tough one?” she mocked, making her way towards you.

As quickly as you could, you lunged for her, throwing both of you to the ground. You got on top of her, but Seohyun was faster, hitting you across the face. She hit you again, but you caught her hand before she could throw her third punch. You threw in two good hits before you were lifted off her and tossed to the side. You glared up at as an unfamiliar man lift Seohyun to her feet, sleep evident on his face, but he was beyond pissed. Seohyun was yelling, holding her bleeding nose, as she was dragged out of your apartment. You quickly followed, watching as Seohyun continued to scream and curse.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” the man dragging her yelled, lifting her off the ground as she continued to struggle. It was then you realized it was the same voice who hit your neighbor for having loud sex in the middle of the night. “Get the rest of these fuckers out of here,” he said, never looking back as he continued down the hall with a screaming Seohyun.

You turned towards the group of guys. Jimin and Taehyung, along with two other guys were being escorted out the building. “Wait,” you called running up to the group. You pushed past the guys until you reached Taehyung and Jimin. Grabbing their hands, you told them, “They’re with me.” Staring up at one of the guys, who didn’t look like he got the shit beat out of him, you watched him stare at you for a second before nodding, pushing the other two down the hall. When the three of you were alone in the hallway, you let out a sigh. “Tae, what the hell was that?” You turned to look up at the brunette next to you.

He looked down at you, a big smile plastered on his face. “Sorry about that, Cupcake. I didn’t think they’d actually follow me, or bring a friend for that matter.”

You shook your head, letting out a sigh. “Let’s get inside and clean your cuts.” You turned towards Jimin, staring down at his bandaged hand in yours. Blood seeped through the bandage. “We’ll have to rebandage this.” You dragged the two into your apartment, letting their hands go once they were inside.

You walked back into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit from the cabinet. Walking out of the bathroom, you made your way towards the couch where Taehyung and Jimin sat. Taehyung had his eyes close as he rested his head on the backrest. Jimin sat on the couch in silence, staring down at his hands. You placed yourself between them, getting on your knees as you began to work on Taehyung. He let out a hum as you rubbed the ointment on his cuts.

“Tae…” Jimin trailed off.

“Just,” Taehyung began, bringing his hand closer to your bare leg, rubbing circles on your skin with his thumb, “find someone better than her.”

“Sorry, Tae,” Jimin quietly said, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Me too. Are we cool?” Taehyung asked, his circles slowing down.

“Of course.”

Taehyung let out a small smile. “That’s good…” Taehyung’s breathing slowed.

You finished what you could as you go off the couch. “Can you help me?” you asked, gesturing towards the sleeping brunette. Jimin grabbed Taehyung’s legs as you held his head. Together, the two of you shifted him into a lying position on the couch. You went to the small dresser up against the wall and grabbed a small, white blanket. You draped it over Taehyung’s sleeping form before grabbing the first aid kit and made your way towards the table. You sat down, placing the kit on the table and grabbed the chair, pulling it in front of you. You looked towards Jimin, patting the chair expectantly. “You’re next.”

You watched as Jimin made his way over to you, sitting himself on the chair in front of you. You got to work on his old cuts, and now new ones. It was silent between the two of you as you tried to focus on cleaning his cuts, but you could feel his eyes on you.

If the two of you continued to sit in this silence, you’d probably explode. From whatever was causing you to squirm under his gaze.

“I’m sorry she did whatever she did,” you told him, wrapping his hand in a new bandage.

“She cheated.”

“Ah.” You gave a curt nod. You could tell him how much of a bitch she is, and how he deserves better. Well, everyone deserves better if they were to date her. Seohyun was trash, but you figured Jimin already knew that. Plus, she is his soulmate, so you can’t talk bad about her. You finally finished cleaning his cuts. “Thankfully both you and Taehyung know how to fight, so your cuts aren’t anything serious.” You began to pack, but stopped when Jimin’s hand took a hold of yours. You turned towards him, hoping the blush appearing on your cheeks weren’t that visible. “What?”

“You have cuts, too,” he said, grabbing the kit from your hands and began to pull out the ointment and Band-Aid. You watched as he lightly dabbed his finger in the ointment before carefully smearing it on the cut on your cheek. You lightly winced. It was cold and stung a bit. “Why did you date Taehyung?”

Sooner or later, you knew this question would come. You were honestly hoping it would be later, but fate just said fuck you and presented the question you didn’t want to answer. But with Jimin cleaning your cut carefully, and your heart racing, you found yourself answering him, “I didn’t believe the rumors of Broken not being able to feel love.” You kept your attention on the Band-Aid on his cheek. “I met Taehyung by accident when we were both trying to steal the same thing. He was more of a “first come, first serve” kind of person and sort of stole what I was aiming for.” You chuckled. “Bastard gave it to me for our anniversary.”

“So, you dated him out of curiosity,” Jimin said, placing a Band-Aid on your left cheek.

“I wanted to believe that we could feel, but after two years of dating, I guess the rumors were true.” You closed your eyes as he got to work on the cut on your cheekbone.

“Do you believe any rumors Broken spread?” Jimin asked, rubbing a small circle on your cheekbone.

“You mean the doppelganger one? That’s the most recent rumor. That’s a lie. It’s just giving us hope for something that can never happen.” There was a rumor going around saying that if a Broken’s doppelganger did something worse than what a Broken had did, then that doppelganger is basically sentenced to death. The Broken dies, but is reincarnated as their doppelganger. Memories and all are there. A rumor that is giving them nothing but false hope.

Same thing with some other dimension giving people one hundred days to find their soulmate before they die. Everyone has a soulmate. Again, lies.

“You’re finished,” he said, placing all the items back in the box before sliding it over to you.

“Thank you,” you said, picking up the box. You got to your feet, but immediately sat back down. “Why are you suddenly different?” you couldn’t help but ask, catching him off guard by your question. “You’ve hated me since we first met.”

Jimin leaned back in his chair, a sigh escaping past his lips. “I never hated you.”

“That’s a lie.”

“I was protecting Taehyung.” Jimin’s eyes wandered to the couch where the brunette was fast asleep. “He’s my best friend.”

You stared at Jimin. You could see it in his eyes how much Taehyung meant to him. Taehyung never mentioned any of the guys to you, but just the look on Jimin’s face said everything. They’ve been through a lot of hard times, great moments, and so much more. Jimin would do anything for Taehyung, and so would you.

“I guess you can say he’s my best friend, too,” you told him, watching his gaze land back on you. “More like he’s all I have. He’s keeping me sane in this fucked up world.” You shrugged, getting up from your seat. “I’d recommend you climb through the window to go back to your place. Those guys might be outside the complex waiting for you.” You pushed your chair back to its original place. “I’m sorry your soulmate is a bitch.” You froze, mentally hitting yourself for being so blunt. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“She’s not my soulmate,” he said, getting up from his seat and pushing the chair in. You frowned, looking up at him. Seeing your confusion as to why he would date someone like her, he continued, “She was, but not anymore.”

“She was…”

“I woke up this morning with a new name on my wrist.”

Jimin was the last rare case in the group. It wasn’t Namjoon or the other two. It was Jimin.

“Ah. So, how does that work?” you asked.

“It’s usually based off of my feelings for someone,” he said in a nonchalant manner.

“You had feelings for—” you stopped yourself, holding up your hands. “I’m sorry. You must have liked her for a reason.”

You were just fucking things up badly. Maybe keeping your mouth shut is the best option.

“Are you sure my name is on your wrist?” Jimin asked, eyes on his name inked into your wrist.

“I’ve spent hours trying to wipe it off thinking it was a pen or marker, but apparently, it’s real,” you told him staring down at your wrist. “But don’t worry, your soulmate doesn’t need to know about this.” Incoherent words left Jimin’s mouth, causing you to look up at him in confusion. “What?”

Letting out a sigh, he pushed his sleeve up, revealing his inked wrist. “Your name was found on my wrist this morning.”

Looking down at his hand, you found your name inked across his wrist in perfect cursive.

Sledgehammer

Chapter Seven

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Word Count: 2709
Warnings: Angst, swearing

Song: Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie


Feeling better after your short talk with Clint, you headed toward your office and smiled when you ran into Garry in the corridor. “Hey. Where you been?”

“Around,” he shrugged, giving you a smile.

“Well, would around be up for an afternoon of target practice?”

“Hell yah!” he cheered, offering you a high five.

As you laughed and made to slap his palm, the two of you rounded the corner only to come upon Steve and a beautiful blonde woman. You came to a complete, dead stop. “Oh,” popped out on an exhalation of breath, causing Steve’s head to whip toward you.

A flush of red built in his cheeks, and his smile appeared… guilty. “(Y/N), doll face, come meet Agent Sharon Carter,” he called out, motioning you closer as he eyed Garry.

Keep reading

happy d-day it’s a national holiday so i stayed up all night to write y’all a fic and had to go to a 12.5 hour work shift on no sleep so fucking. appreciate this

2000+ words, studoc because this is my house. d-day gives me lots of emotions


When Stuart walks into the living room at 4am for a glass of water, the last thing he is expecting to see is Murdoc digging through a chewed-up cardboard box of old cassettes as if his life depends on it.

“What’re you doing,” he asks bluntly, and it’s a testament to how many things he’s had to put up with over the years that this is phrased like a statement rather than an actual question, and that there’s no real surprise behind his words anymore. Stu’s been through the wringer, okay. You don’t get spirited off to a parallel space dimension and force-fed an entire fridge by an anthropomorphic slice of pizza without losing a bit of astonishment for everyday things like this.

Murdoc looks up, startled, for a second, then plunges his arms back into the box and starts rummaging around loudly again. “Found some old VHS tapes in the back of the garage,” he says, then stops for a second and yanks one out with much more vigor than is strictly needed and a loud clatter. He barks out a victorious laugh and shoves the box off to the side, kicking the tapes he’s already scattered across the floor out of his way and kneeling down in front of the television set. “C’mere, come look at this.”

“‘S 4am, Muds,” Stuart protests, but he shuffles over and plops himself down on the battered couch anyway. “What is it?”

Murdoc has somehow managed to coax the TV set into accepting the VHS tape and is fiddling with the knobs at the bottom of the screen. “Y’know how we got Noodle that video recorder that first Christmas we had her?”

Stu hums in agreement and wraps a throw blanket around himself. He can’t remember much about something back that far, but there’s a faint memory of Noodle tearing open a box and shrieking with delight as she ran around shoving a chunky, early-2000s camcorder in everyone’s faces. “Those her tapes?”

“No, they’re my amateur pornos.” The screen flickers to life and Murdoc settles back on his haunches before looking at him and grinning, illuminated by weak blue light. “Only joshing, I keep those on DVD.”

“Y’know, it says a lot about you that I can’t tell if you’re really joking or not about that.”

“Fuck off, not like I’d let you see ‘em anyway,” Murdoc says, then adds with a leer, “Least, not when you’ve got the real thing right here.” He makes his way back to the couch and settles into the other side, shoving his cold feet under Stuart’s legs and dragging more than half of the blanket over himself.

Stu makes a noise of protest. “Oi, that’s my blanket, get your own.”

“What’s yours is mine, love,” Murdoc says, and Stuart promptly shoves his heel into his crotch. “Argh, for the love of—”

They kick each other for a few seconds before Murdoc relinquishes part of the blanket back, pressing himself closer to Stu so that they can both fit underneath. “Look, you’re missing the whole fucking thing, pay attention.”

“You started it,” Stu mumbles, but leans back, satisfied. On screen, a practice session, probably from the band’s first few months, has already started. The scene isn’t centered in the slightest; half of it is obscured by an amplifier sitting in the way, and every few seconds the camera jolts as a tiny Noodle picks it up and moves it to a new position. She’s obviously sitting on the floor, trying to set it up so that the camera records them as they practice. Finally she manages to set it at an angle where it’s tilted up at the band, and runs out from behind to take her place next to a much younger Stuart, who has his hand down his trousers and is scratching himself, oblivious to the presence of the camera right at his feet.

“Nice,” Murdoc cackles from beside him, and scoots away as Stu aims another kick at him under the blanket. “Absolutely lovely. No, really, look at you, Dents. Satan, what a catch. Twenty years later, and nothing much has changed, eh?”

On the television, Murdoc steps forward into the shot, shoots a furtive glance at Noodle and Stuart, faced away from him, and sticks his hand down his jeans to scratch himself as well.

“Oh, nice,” Stuart parrots back at his own Murdoc, who is looking much more sour now. “Twenty years later and not much has changed, ‘s that what you said, yeah?”

“Will you just — shut up. Not like anybody noticed.”

“Muds, get your hands out your damn pants,” Russel says from somewhere off to the side of the camera. “You touch our instruments with those, nasty-ass—”

Stuart’s snickering and Murdoc’s groan almost drowns out the faltering voice of the Stuart onscreen. The sound is a little bit tinny, but pretty decent for a tape that’s just spent two decades in a moldering cardboard box. “Hey, uh, what song’re we doin’ again, because, uh, I know we just said, but I wanna make sure I’m singing the right one—”

“It’s Re-Hash, idiot, just like it’s been for the past four times.” Although Murdoc’s voice is the same as ever, Stuart notes, the years have had an unmistakable effect on his looks. The bassist plucking at his strings on the television has a much rounder face and tanner skin than the one sitting next to him now, and the red contact that used to be omnipresent in his left eye has long since been discarded. The bags under his eyes are much less pronounced, as well, making him look soft, round and baby-faced in comparison to his current, more angular appearance, although Stuart doesn’t think he’s any less handsome.

Murdoc notices him sizing him up out of the corner of his eye (how he does it, Stuart doesn’t know, since he has no pupils to show where his gaze is lying.) “What?”

“Nothing. Y’look different, that’s all.”

“Twenty years can do that to a person. You’re no spring chicken yourself, mate.”

“No, I know, but I didn’t mean it like bad-different. Just, different-different. You look less like a baby, ‘s what I’m saying. More like a — a velociraptor, or somethin’.“

“A velociraptor.”

“Pointy, y’know.” Stuart motions helplessly. “And green.”

Murdoc’s voice is dry. “Pointy and green. What a compliment, 2D, thank you. Really, I appreciate it.”

“Look, I dunno, it’s 4am, Muds, ‘m tired.” Stuart sighs and wraps himself tighter, leaning his head against Murdoc’s shoulder. “Can’t we watch this tomorrow?”

“Hush up,” he says with no real vitriol, and threads his fingers through Stuart’s hair. “I just wanna see this part.”

The light pours off the screen in shades of cyan, casting long shadows across the living room that jump erratically with the occasional roll of static. Stuart likes to watch it, likes the blue darkness that pools in the corners of the room, settles in the folds of his blanket, collects under the fringe near Murdoc’s eyes. He thinks it’s like being swept under a wing, or sleeping in a blanket fort right up against a window, cool and safe, free but protected. Maybe it’s a little bit like what moonlight must feel like, or maybe moonshadows. Something intangible. Something that blankets your heart.

“D’you ever think about what it would have been like if it didn’t happen?”

Murdoc’s voice is low and musing, less of a question than a thought opened to the air. He’s still looking at the screen, and if Stuart hadn’t been paying attention, he might have thought he didn’t say anything at all.

“If I didn’t happen, I mean. To you.”

It’s a question that Stuart’s asked himself periodically over the past twenty years. Sometimes more often, sometimes few and far between. There have been many times that he has looked in the mirror and not recognized himself — he remembers that sometimes, when they were recording the self-titled, or even Demon Days, he would wake up and stumble into the bathroom and start screaming because he had forgotten what had happened to him and he didn’t recognize the black eyed, toothless face that stared back. There have been many times that he has looked at pictures of himself from the past and not recognized himself either — they had all gone to Crawley to visit his mother and the headless Cyborg for his last birthday, and when his mother had brought out the old photo albums Stuart had not for the life of him been able to pick himself out of a group of his school friends. At times he has thought about this question and squashed down the thoughts that roiled up deep inside of him because all the what-ifs and could-haves made him want to vomit. At times he has looked around him, looked at Murdoc, and thought that he would not have wanted it any way else.

Of course he thinks about what it would have been like. Of course. He’s only human, after all.

Onscreen, Noodle interrupts a muffled argument that had broken out between them all with rapid Japanese and launches into the beginning, jangling riffs of Re-Hash. Murdoc’s eyes have still not left the screen, but the question still drifts in the air.

“I think,” says Stuart, “that if you hadn’t happened to me, then everything would be different. But not bad-different. Just. Different-different, right? And maybe — maybe there’s other worlds out there where you didn’t happen t’me, and maybe there’s some where you happened too much. Maybe there’s infinite worlds out there, and everything and everyone that’s happened to me, or you, or anyone, did or didn’t happen, in all the different combinations possible.”

He’s singing now, on the television, and it’s strange to hear his voice coming from the Stuart that he is and the Stuart that he was simultaneously. Re-Hash rolls over them, humming in the background like static:

It’s a sweet sensation over the dub

Oh, what a situation that don’t wanna stop

It’s the drugstore soul boy over the dub

With the sweetest inspiration, we don’t wanna stop

“The point is,” he continues, and the light is stretched across Murdoc’s face now as he looks down at him, piercing and straight on, curving electric down his cheek, stark against his dark eyes, “that I do think about it. It’s something that happened, and not something anyone can ignore. And sometimes I’m happy about it, ‘n sometimes I’m sad, and mostly I don’t know. But I can’t change it, and you can’t change it, ‘cause this is our reality, right? All we can do is make peace with it, really. ‘S different-different, and for me, at least, I think that’s okay.”

It is very quiet, the barest hint of music floating out towards them from the video. Then Murdoc nods, and gently presses his lips to Stuart’s temple.

“Guess you’ve changed over the past twenty years too, Stu.” The pad of Murdoc’s thumb brushes Stuart’s cheek, and Stuart lets his head fall to press against Murdoc’s chest, feeling his heart beat as the TV plays, and thinks that, just maybe, Murdoc had to happen to him, like someone out there’s writing their lives out like a story, like no matter what, it couldn’t ever have been any other way. Maybe that makes them soulmates, he supposes. Just a little bit.

He can hear his own voice singing in tandem with Noodle’s, and Russel’s, and Murdoc’s on the television. He’s always liked Re-Hash, because it was the first song they ever wrote and performed together as a band, and because it’s the only song where they all sing together as one, his own voice pressing them forward, Russel steady underneath, Murdoc rumbling low at the bottom, and Noodle skating over the top. Stuart leans back into the couch, facing the television again, watching himself crowded around a battered microphone with Noodle and Murdoc, Russel at his drumset in the back. He reaches up to the hand cupping his cheek, twining his fingers into it, and he squeezes gently, and softly, tentatively, Murdoc squeezes back.

The darkness crouches in the corners like a lingering embrace, the light spilling bright across the two of them together in comforting blues, and in that moment, everything that has ever happened is meant to be.

Cuddles

Cuddles
Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: Peter in so much pain

You heard the door unlock to your apartment. You looked at the door confused, of course it would be Peter but he usually came through the window.

You heard a groan from the other side of the door,“ Peter?"you called.

"Mmmm,” he groaned again. He seemed like he was in so much pain.

You ran to the door and opened it.

“Peter!”

He lost his balance and fell on top of you.

“Oh my gosh, baby, what happened?”

He just kept responding in groans of pain.

You gently roll him to the side so you can get up and close the door, carefully moving his legs out of the way.

You pull him up and he lays on you, all jelly like. He couldn’t move and his arms were just dangling as you dragged him to your room.

You got his suit off and he laid on your bed naked. Except for boxers of course.

You examined his bruised up body. It looked like a galaxy, that’s how bruised up he was.

“Oh my gosh,” you said,“ Pete what happened?”

He just hummed a response.

You looked at his face and saw how dry and busted his lips were. It must’ve been so painful to talk.

You left to go to the kitchen and got some frozen peas.

When you got back, you pulled Peter all the way up on the bed so his feet weren’t dangling on the edge.

You laid the frozen peas all over his chest.

You also brought back frozen ice cubes wrapped in towels, to place on his lips.

You sat right above him, placing his head to lay on your lap.

You carefully press the towel on his lips and he winced.

“Sorry.”

You ran your finger through his hair, knowing it’ll help him sleep.

In about an hour or so, Peter was able to move more, still in a bit of pain but not as bad as he was when he got home.

“Do you want some tea, honey?” You asked.

He shook his head no,“ can we just cuddle for the night, baby. I really need it.”

“Of course,” you said, leaning down to give his temple a kiss.

You got up and got a new blanket.

You laid it on top of him and tucked it under his chin. You crawled in next to him. He instantly hugged your waist, and laid his head right on top of your breast. You wrap your legs gently around his waist and hugged his head.

You nuzzled his hair with your nose and gave him a kiss.

“Thank you love, for taking care of me.”

“No problem baby, are you ready to tell me what happened now?”

You waited for his respond and you looked down seeing him fast asleep.

His breathing and light snores filled up the silent air, helping you fall fast asleep as well.

A/N: Feed back would be great! I hope you like this super quick fic that I wrote :) I’ve been obsessed about Peter for a couple of days and I can’t stop writing about him so here’s another one :D
Ps. Cuddles help solve everything

anonymous asked:

Idek if you're taking requests but if you are can you write a Harry imagine where you guys get invited to a Christmas Eve party and Harry seems like he doesn't want to go but you don't know why and at the party he's being really clingy and quiet and eventually he asks you guys if you can leave and he looks almost like he's in pain and once you guys get home he breaks down and starts getting really sick and is upset because he's really sick to his stomach on Christmas. Thanks love!


Thank you for the request sweetie. I’m sorry for the extreme delay! I hope this mends it! Love ya


#11: I’ll Take Care Of You

The soft padding of his feet came to be heard in the kitchen as Y/N sauntered in there, clearing up some tit-bits of their lunch. The house was awfully quiet considering the fact that they had been asleep for a while before, and now as Y/N was awake, Harry was still getting over his jetlag. 

Until his groan came loud into the kitchen and Y/N turned around in her place to see him walking in groggily, fingers rubbing his eyes and his lips pouted, pink and plump. 

“Hiya baby.” Y/N smiled as Harry now approached her with open arms. 

In reply to her he groaned some more and went in for a tight hug from her, snuggling his nose in the crook of her neck and winding his one leg around her hip in an attempt to find the desired warmth. Chuckling, Y/N wound her arms around his waist and pressed her lips to his hair sweetly. 

“Why’d ya get out ‘o bed, huh?” His deeply husks, words muffled into her skin and tone extremely languid. 

“Harry..”

“C’mon, I wanna get back, c’mon.” He didn’t even let her leave her position, and snug his arms under her bum, pulling her off of her feet and carrying all the way upstairs to their bedroom. 

Y/N shuffled the blankets away at their feet as Harry sat her on the bed. She raised her arms to him, inviting him closer to her, and Harry gratified, pushed himself down at her till they both lay on the bed, him atop her. 

His lips found her neck, peppering kisses lazily, while her hand found his hair, scratching at the scalp and tugging on his roots that gave him a lighter feeling. 

“What happened? Don’t feel good?” Y/N asks in a hush voice, tracing her lips on his outer face as he gradually paused his lips at her skin and just breathed her in in long breaths. 

“It’s too cold. Just wanna stay here, with you.” He lifts his head to her, bringing his lips down and meeting hers in a slow, soft kiss. 

Tugging at his shoulders, Y/N succeeded in bringing him under her and priced his tired face and slump mood with soft, longing kisses. Harry held her hair, tugging up in a ponytail as she slowly trailed down his face, on his neck and then on his bare chest, and the anticipation of all of this made his breathing raspier. 

She had reached the hemline of his boxer briefs and Harry couldn’t wait to give out to her when suddenly, the phone on the bedside table rang.

Y/N lifted herself off of the bed, annoyed at the abruptness of this petty gadget and sat on the edge of the bed as she received the call. 

Harry sat up behind her, running a hand through his hair as he eyed her back suggestively. His hips bucked up, slowly sliding him across the mattress to her until his groan touched her behind. His arms closed around her waist, slipping his hands under her top until they met in a knot at her navel. He kissed her shoulder, back and side of her neck before resting his head on her skin, rocking back and forth with her, completely ignorant of her chit chat.  

“I can’t believe it just left my mind. God, we have time right? I mean it’s definitely not startin’ before 9 even though it says 7?” The thought of the pre-Christmas party at her friend’s home had completely left her mind; but she couldn’t really blame herself when Harry had arrived back home. 

“Okay, I’ll make it. Just let’s arrive there together so I don’t be the only one late. Kay, see ya.” She put her phone back to its place, and slowed arched her neck to see Harry’s face at her side, chin propped up on her shoulder. Resisting somehow, she grants him a peck on his lips and even after he urges for more with lip biting, she refrains and gets off of the bed. 

“We gotta get ready. There’s a party at Makayla’s place.” Y/N announces, looking at Harry now slouching back on the bed with the support on his arms. 

“And we’re not going..?” He hints slowly, giving her a curious look. 

Y/N sighs through her mouth. “We have to. It was planned like long back, Harry. I have to be there.”

“But now I’m home so we’re staying back here, baby, c’mere.” He lifts his arms to hold her but she flinches back. 

“That’s what it is. You weren’t supposed to be back till next week and I got committed to certain outings and plans which I doubt I can cancel now.” Y/N whines, biting her lip in slight tanginess of her words. 

Harry’s eyes grew wide. “So it’s coming down on me then, is it really now?” He grew serious, eyes sombre. 

“You can stay home if you want, I’ll be back soon.” Shrugging her shoulders, Y/N turned to walk to the wardrobe when he held her wrist to tug her back. 

“I’ll come with ya.” 


***


The house is packed and merry with familiar faces, all laughing and chatting about in casualty. Y/N smiled at her friend walking to her, enclosing her in a tight hug with her one hand that was free of Harry’s hold. Pulling away from Y/N, Makayla turned to Harry who gave her a mere smile, and quick hug, almost equivalent to a shrug. All this while, not leaving Y/N’s hand for a moment. 

“Come on, get your drinks, guys, we’ll start with some games after that.” Saying so, Makayla walked off in the party. 

Y/N looked up from her hand intertwined with his to his serious, jaw tightened face. She cupped the side of his face with her other hand and brought him down, kissing his cheeks twice. 

“I’m sorry about before, baby. Please let’s go through this thing together and all smiley?” She waited for him to respond while pressing her nose on his cheek repeatedly. 

“Hmm.” He responded, looking down at her with a slight neutral expression. 

“Now gimme a kiss and smile, sweetheart.” They kiss slowly - something a little more than a peck - and Harry pulls back, tucking his hands in the pocket of his jeans while leaving Y/N from the warmth. She frowned, nevertheless held his bicep and together, walked in the crowd. 

A while later, Y/N found herself on her third glass of wine, a little light headed as she sat on the arm rest of the couch, laughing about imbecile topics. Harry joined the group at the couch, sliding down Y/N from the armrest to his lap abruptly, almost toppling the wine glass on her lap. 

“Woah, easy there, honey.” She chuckled, looking back at Harry with glassy eyes. 

“You too there, love.” He gestured to her glass, keeping a straight face. Y/N chuckled some more and aimed for a kiss on his lips but he turned and she found his scruff under her lips. She turned back to the group, not minding his actions at the moment. 

One of the guys in the group, later, picked out his guitar and sang songs, changing the lyrics someway and making them sound chessy and sweet to the crowd. He serenaded every woman during this, looking in their eyes and smiling a handsome one. 

he approaches Y/N, shifting a chord here and there on the guitar, beginning to play soft, amorous tune with lyrics that he dragged to a slurry tone. Y/N smiled, not really minding the deal with the man - he’s just being sweet. The guy slowly drew close to her face, urging her to sing along and Y/N chuckled, looking away shyly. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” Harry’s voice came through and the music stopped, all eyes turning to the stoic man behind Y/N. 

“Yes?” The man questioned. 

Harry got up, making Y/N stay together with him. His hand came down against the man’s chest, flat, and it just seemed he was an inch away from shoving the man on to the group sat behind him. 

“That was good, but thank you, enough of it, we’re leaving.” With this, he grabs Y/N’s hand and drags her out of the building, the wine glass in her hand falling to the ground and breaking on the way. 


***

Y/N shuffles at the door, taking off her heels, Harry hot at her feet. She scurries away from the door in haste but Harry’s voice makes her stop. 

“Y/N, baby, I’m n-”

“What was that?” She demanded, turning around. 

Harry’s face grew struck with shock. “We were coming back, anyways, might as well did an hour or so before - what’s wrong with that?” 

“You really are stubborn, aren’t you? When you had thought that you’re gonna be absolutely rude to my friends, act like absolutely out of this world person and be absolutely sulking away my mood along with yours, I guess you played really well then.” She flared her nose at him. 

Harry’s shoulders dropped.” Baby, I wasn’t feeling well at all.” 

“I told you to stay at home, didn’t I?” Y/N accused. “I think you purposely act around like this arrogant and stoic in front of my friends just to maintain this air and talk about Harry Styles, don’t you? Goodness, you’re so implausible at times.” She hurried away to their bedroom. Harry trailed behind her, quick in his steps and got inside the bedroom before she could have closed the door at his face. 

Not sparing any look to him, Y/N quietly walked to the dresser to put away her earrings. It was until she heard sniffles that she turned around. 

With his face in his hands and his figure turned small at the edge of the bed, Harry openly let his sobs be heard. 

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, biting her lip, and walked to him. Standing before him, she spoke,” Why are you crying?” 

With his face burried in his hands still, Harry answered. “I’m not feeling good, Y/N. After being home sick for so long, all I wanted was to spend time with you when I’d come back and you drag me to this party where there’s guys tryna flirt with ya. It makes me so sick, but is that what you’ve been doing while I was away?” 

Y/N dropped to her knees before him, clutching his wrists to bring his hands away from his face. 

“No, I would never do that, I swear, baby. And I didn’t drag you to the party, you could’ve stayed home if you wanted.” She spoke in a less monotonous and more understanding, soft voice. 

Harry looked up at her with his bloodshot eyes. “But I wanna be with you, why don’t you understand?” He burries his face back in his hands ,and Y/N’s fighting to have him look at her. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, Harry. Please look at me, I love you, I’m so so sorry, baby.” She hugs him over him trying to hide his face, and she’s squishing his body in her grip before he finally wraps his arms around her. 

“Please smile, it’s almost Christmas, baby. I’m so glad you’re home!” She squeals into his shoulder, kissing his ear and neck and everywhere that she can. 

“Please come and hold me, I’m feeling so cold.” Harry murmurs against her hair. 

“I’ll take care of you baby, I’ll love you so much. C’mon.” Y/N urges pushing him back on the bed. She wipes his cheeks as she kisses him under his eyes and moves her hands down to help him change up. 

“I love you, Y/N and I’ve missed you and I love you so much.” Harry smiles at her. 

She leans to his face, pecking a kiss on his lips and smiles back. “I’ve missed you too,bug. Love you so much.” 

And their lips meet again. 


MASTERLIST

anonymous asked:

Headcannon Request: Sam being all cuddly when the reader gets bad period cramps. Even protective on a vamp hunt 'cause we all know those freaks be nasty enough to try!

“Damn it, oh my God, ow.” You groaned, arms wrapped around your stomach and you curled into a ball. Sam cracked the bedroom door and watched as you rolled around the bed. He hated seeing you in pain, but there was really nothing he could do about this.

“Everythig okay?” He whispered, poking his head in slowly.

“No everything is not okay. My uterus wants a baby, and I didn’t give it one, and now I - I’m dying!” You whined.

“You’re not dying, baby. Come here.” He sat behind you, positioning himself so he could pull you into his lap and still keep you in the same tight ball you’d put yourself in.

“Don’t touch me, no, no, no. I’m gross and bloated and it hurts.” You knew you were being dramatic, but this happening every month shit was for the birds. Sam waited until you calmed down to start rocking back and forth gently. His lips pressed against the side of your head as he began humming, your eyes drifting shut slowly. 

“Got a case!” Dean busted through the door, jolting both you and Sam from your comfortable positions, both of you huffing and dragging yourselves from the bed.


“A vampire case, Dean? Seriously?” You gave him a side-eye as the vampires came barreling toward you, your long knife slicing clean through their necks.

“Sorry! How was I supposed to know you were bleeding out?” He shrugged after decapitating a vamp of his own. 

“Bleeding out, for fuck’s sake…” You heaved and pushed yourself off the wall, heading for the door, weaving your way past the mangled corpses at your feet. 

Back at the motel, you grabbed one of your old socks and the bag of uncooked rice you made Dean buy on one of his gas station runs. Filling the sock, you tied it and popped it in the small microwave. Once it beeped, you grabbed it and collapsed on the bed, slapping it onto your stomach.

“Oh, thank Chuck for home remedies.” You laid a hand over your shirt and pressed the warmth into your skin. Sam emerged from the bathroom and heard your low hums of relief. Climbing into bed with you, he rolled you onto your side and splayed his hand out across your lower belly. His lips danced along your shoulder, then your neck as he whispered against the shell of your ear.

“Just sleep. I’ve got this. I’ve got you.”



Keep reading

no pets allowed, but i won’t tell

My remix for @thinkoutsidethelovesquare! This is a remix of the fic No Pets Allowed by @kiwikwami.

Summary: Against the rules of his apartment complex, Nino brings a kitten home. When his neighbor Adrien finds out, he strikes a deal to make sure he won’t get turned in. An Adrinino remix.

AO3


Nino knew that he was breaking the rules as he brought a tiny bundle of fur into his apartment building. There were weekly newsletters and posters hung just about everywhere denouncing the ownership of animals that weren’t fish, so it was kind of impossible to not understand that getting kicked out was a horribly real possibility.

Nevertheless, he calmed and quieted the kitten hidden in his jacket as he took the steps instead of elevator, and the back door instead of the front. It was a lot more effort than normally going to his room, but looking down at the cat’s sweet expression, he knew it was worth it. With a smile, he made it to his floor and, after a minute of searching for his keys, unlocked his room and stepped inside, letting the door swing shut by itself.

“Alright, little buddy,” Nino said, “I’m gonna give you a bath ‘cause you’re crazy dirty. After that, I’ll go buy some cat food. Sound like a deal?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You know what I think about often? A JayTim harem au. Can you imagine Tim covered in gold and jewels, in crisp blue silks? Lithe muscle made for performing. And Jason, adorned more simply in charcoals and deep reds, less ornamented but still just as catching. Jason the bad boy who's always testing the rules ;D

UMM YESSS?? but like you have no idea, I LOOOOVE these types of things, like what if Tim was like a new addition and what if Jason had a problem with like, fraternizing with visitors/clientele and he gets CAUGHT and has to go hiding from the guards or whatnot…


“I didn’t think anyone ever came in here,” Jason says, waving a hand near his face the create a breeze. “It’s so fucking hot.”

“So leave,” Tim tells him, not lifting his gaze from the book in his hand. The place is a greenhouse, after all.

Jason squints, mouth devolving to an irritated pout. He stalks towards Tim, who’s seated at the pool’s end, wearing jewels that match the water’s languid color. Jason leans over, close enough to read the text, and snorts.

“Fairytales?”

He’s in Tim’s space, and Tim simply rolls his eyes and shifts the book leftward, where Jason’s slanted jaw doesn’t block his view.

Jason remembers why he and Tim never talk; no matter how pretty the kid is, he’s obviously got a stick up his ass, and isn’t concerned about having friends.

“The master give you that or something?” Jason tries a different angle, because he’s seen ones like Tim come and go, fledgling servants desperate for praise and competitive, like they think they’ll get masters to love them or some other horseshit.

Tim surprises him by saying, “No.”

Jason snorts. “He’s gonna be pissed you took it then,” he says, because the library is off limits and that’s the only place anyone can find reading material.

At that, Tim’s eyes lift and there’s a sharpness there that seems, all at once, daunting.

“As pissed as he’ll be at you for fraternizing?”

Jason wants to laugh, because hell - who would have thought that the little find off Drakeshore had such a mouth on him, but he’s got a reputation to keep and he can’t let these prettier captives think they know their way around him.

Reaching forward, he pokes Tim two-fingered against the chest, just enough to make Tim lose his balance and go flailing backwards. He snags the book before Tim splashes back into the crisp waters, and rights himself to smirk, as if he’s proven a point.

When Tim emerges and pushes up to his feet, Jason laughs. Something in his throat catches when Tim drags hair back from his face, making the pale pallor of his skin more evident, his eyes more piercing.

He looks familiar, and Jason’s struck with an undeniable fear he can’t place.

“I hate you,” Tim says, and Jason can’t help but feel the words are loaded.

…have they met before?

“Yeah, well,” Jason takes a few steps backwards and sets the book on a glass table, almost nostalgic for the way real bound-leather feels against his calloused fingers. “I’ll remember that when you come asking for help.”

Tim looks livid. “I’d never come to you for help.”

It’s hard not to feel bad for Tim; he’s so much like the others, under an odd notion that they carry any type of control. It’s only a matter of time before Tim breaks, Jason thinks, and realizes he’s owned.

Jason offers a knowing, two fingered salute, knowing that will only piss Tim off more.

You’ll come, it seems to say, and when Tim whirls his head to huff, Jason can’t help but see something like fire in Tim’s eyes.

It’s alluring, and he hopes it will last.

Come on out Kiddo

@supernaturallife123 requested: Can you do an image were demon dean all most killed his little sister and she is scared of him please.

A/N: I’m terrible at getting requests out in a timely manner. I also turned it into a one-shot because I couldn’t do it justice in an imagine. My bad. Hope you like it love & that it was worth the wait. This takes place in the episode that Dean is cured as a demon. Reader’s age isn’t too specific, however the reader is younger then Sam.

Warnings: Angst, Season 10 spoilers

Dean x Sister!Reader    Sam x Sister!Reader

Originally posted by the-captain-destiel

“Come out Sammy!” You heard Dean shout from your hiding place in a closet next to the kitchen. “Come on Sam, I just wanna talk. We were having such a nice chat earlier!” Dean’s voice was quickly approaching your hiding place and you had no where to go.

Originally Sam didn’t want you anywhere near the bunker while he cured Dean; not until Cas got there were you supposed to arrive. However once you got a text from Cas saying he was thirty minutes out that you threw caution into the wind and walked into the bunker from it’s garage you were waiting in. It wasn’t until you heard Dean’s voice shouting for Sam that you realized something was wrong. You quickly dashed into the closest place you could find and wanted to smack yourself upside the head when you realized you were in a closet.

You had closed off any chance at escaping. For now you just had to hope that Dean didn’t realize you were in the bunker and that he wouldn’t decide to check the closet you were standing in.

However you are a Winchester, and Winchester’s don’t have luck.

Keep reading

“Dance with me!” - Robbie the Zombie

Request: I don’t remember what it exactly said or who it was from (I answered it privately so I can’t view it anymore) but if you are the person who requested it, leave a comment so I can know!

Reminder:  Y/N = Your name

                    F/S = Favorite song

Originally posted by boopymooplier

 Jack groaned as he slammed his face against his keyboard. You looked at him, taking an earbud out of your ear.

“Your gonna break your computer doing that, Jack,” You told him, spinning your chair over to his desk.

He sighed, “Yeah, I know.” Lifting his head up, he looked at you, sighing. “How the fuck did I ever do this without Robin? I’m dead serious, Y/N.” He added as you chuckled a bit.

“Yes, sorry. I know your serious, Jack,” You said, bumping his chair over and putting your hand on the mouse.

Keep reading

R&J // Jughead Jones

Hi! I love your stories! Could we get one where Jughead’s s/o got cast in a play with a kissing scene? (I’m new to the fandom so I’m not sure how he would react, but I do like angst ending with fluff.) Thank you!

Hey, welcome to the fandom! We honestly need to get a name or something because it’s full of amazing people. Anyway, this is gonna be adorable (hopefully) two in one day I’m on a roll!

***

I checked the school board, a smile growing on my face as I jumped for joy. I had been cadged as the main role in our schools play. I had been waiting for three years to snag a lead role and I finally did it. I turned my head to see Ronnie looking at the list of names with me.

‘Congrats, Y/N, you finally did it!’ She cheered, side hugging me. 'But, how are you going to tell Jug that you have to kiss your co-lead?’

'I haven’t thought that through yet, I’m just too excited to finally have a chance to show everyone what I can do.’ I smiled. 'But, I need to go snd face the music and slowly ease him into it. Wish me luck.’ I waved to Ronnie, catching sight of Jughead standing at his locker.

'Juggie!’ I screamed, running towards him. He lifted his head from his locker as I jumped in his arms, hugging him tightly around the neck.

'Whoa, slow down,’ he chuckled, pulling away to look down at me, 'what’s got you in a good mood?’

'Guess?’ I said, grabbing his hands.

'Um…you finally got your daily dose of white chocolate?’ He joked. I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm.

'Yes…but, no, that’s not it. Guess who got the lead in the schools play?’ I giggled. Jughead’s smile grew, hugging me again.

'I’m so proud of you! Wait - what’s the play again?’ He asked, grabbing his books out of his locker. I bit my lip awkwardly, looking down at my feet.

'It’s uh - R&J…’ I dragged out, waiting to see his reaction. He jerked his head in my direction quickly, his eyes wide.

'Wait - you mean Romeo and Juliet? You know you’re going to have to-’

'Yes I know that.’ I sighed, cutting him off. 'But, maybe I might find a way around it?’ I suggested. The frown on his face never changed, making me sign in annoyance. 'Oh cmon, I’ve been waiting for this since…forever, to finally have a chance at a lead role.’

He slammed his locker shut, frowning at me. 'You don’t get it, Y/N. The thought of someone else kissing you makes me angry. It’s a Shakespeare play about two star crossed lovers, LOVERS, Y/N.’

I stepped closer to him, raising my eyebrow at him. 'You mean - you’re jealous?’ I smirked, trying not to laugh at his facial expression.

He licked his lips, closing his eyes and trying not to smile and remain serious towards me. 'Y/N, this is a serious conversation.’

'Oh, yes,’ I nodded sarcastically, wrapping my arms around his waist, 'and you’re definitely a serious guy.’ Jughead sighed, shaking his head whilst letting out a chuckle.

'You making me laugh isn’t helping, it’s ruining my rep of being the silent, judging outcast with no emotion.’ He said, cupping my cheek.

'I’m okay with that.’ I whispered, leaning in and connecting his lips with mine. I pulled away slowly, opening my eyes to his gorgeous orbs. 'Don’t worry, stage kisses are a thing.’ I smiled cheekily, grabbing his hand and leading him down the hallway.

'It better be a stage kiss.’ He muttered, pecking my cheek.

CHDH 11

“Capturing Her Damaged Heart”

Rated M. See chapter 1 for list of warnings. I do not own Fairy Tail, Hiro Mashima does.

Summary: A deadly disease plagues the world. People are dying, the dead are rising. The infection spreads too fast to stop. Everyone tries their best to survive in this post-apocalyptic world, but things get messy for Natsu when he finds a blonde woman on one of his missions. Natsu takes it upon himself to help her, protect her, and accidentally fall in love with her? Zombie Apocalypse AU. Hurt/comfort, angst, romance.

Read Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Read on FF.net or AO3.

Warning: Chapter contains violence and disturbing imagery. 


Chapter Eleven: Clearer

(October 6th, 2017, Friday Morning)

“Everyone remember the drill?” Laxus, one of the head guards, asked as he looked from person to person.

He watched as the clearers nodded, each one of them looking more determined than the last. ‘Good,’ he thought, knowing they would need to be on the top of their game. They had one of the most important jobs at Fairy Tail. Without their help, the runners would struggle to raid the nearby houses and buildings for supplies.

Every day they worked, they had to do their best to kill the undead. They had to stay sharp if they wanted to make it back alive.

“Everyone do your stretches. I’ll get set up. Five minutes.” With that, Laxus left the clearers alone to prepare their bodies. They would be put to the test once again today, but it was worth it. Section three was within their reach, finally.

Laxus was sure that by the end of the month, they would get to the heart of the section, where many stores were located. There they could find more food, water, and other supplies they needed.

They just had to get through the masses of zombies in between.

“Do you hear anything?” Laxus asked when Erik stepped beside him.

“No,” he mumbled, his one good eye narrowing as he looked around the neighborhood.

Laxus’ jaw tightened as he nodded. “Me neither. I don’t like it.”

The neighborhood they stood in was eerily quiet. It didn’t make sense seeing as they hadn’t cleared it yet.

“Well,” Erik snickered, his lips pulling into a smirk, “why don’t we make some noise?”

Keep reading

Gardens (Photographer!Yoongi)

Plot: Spending a special day with photographer!Yoongi (part of the One Day series)

Word Count: 1272

A/N: so this series is basically about when BTS get really really busy and don’t have much free time and what would happen once they got a day off, where they would go, what they would do, stuff like that, the link for this is photographer!Yoongi (here)

The scent of flowers surrounded you, the click of a camera was the only sound. Your legs were beginning to grow tired from walking so much but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind when you saw the look of peace on Yoongi’s face. The thought of leaving hadn’t crossed your mind, nor his, despite having arrived three hours ago. There was something comforting about being there, maybe it was gentle breeze ruffling through your hair, maybe it was the wide smile on Yoongi’s face now that he was back in his element, maybe it was the silence, no cars, no people, none of the city noise you had grown used to.

Keep reading

So here it is the long awaited, probably not, follow up to my fetus ziam drabble. I’ve already started part 3 because I hate myself and think people actually like my stuff.


“Out of my way lads, I’ve got my own room this time,” Niall announced once everyone was off the buses in Vancouver. He turned and looked directly at Harry and Louis. “Luckily it’s away from some people.”

“You’re the perv that was listening in,” Louis replied defensively. “Not mine and Harold’s fault.”

“How about we get a move on and get to the lift instead of arguing?” Paul suggested, raising his eyebrows at the boys. “Meet me by the lifts while I get the keys.”

The five boys dragged their feet behind Paul, all exhausted. The three hour bus ride ended up taking close to four and a half due to getting tied up at the border. A stop for gas once they entered Canada ended up being a production that got a few people to laugh, even if it was out of sheer exhaustion and not something actually funny. Bags were thrown over shoulders and luggage was being dragged behind them. They only upside to everything was that they had the day off, the only thing on their schedule was a radio interview in the midafternoon. Eight more shows, two more weeks and they could see their month long break in front of them. It was just something they needed to keep reminding themselves.

“You sleep on the bus?” Zayn asked Liam as they were huddled in the corner, away from everyone.

“A little,” Liam answered with a shrug. “I was too knackered to sleep, if that makes sense.”

“Perfect,” he assured him, especially after he saw the worry lines appear above Liam’s brows. All he wanted to do really was move his thumb across the creases, feel his skin on his skin, maybe even kiss the worry feeling that was probably in the pit of his stomach. Fuck. Stupid Louis and his stupid checklist. “I was knackered too but you know how Lou is, always bouncing off the wall.”

“You’ll sleep well tonight,” Liam promised, his worry lines now flattened and a wide smile on his face. “Get to sleep on a bed this time instead of a crammed bus.”

“We cuddling?” Zayn asked with a smirk. Despite his new found realization Zayn didn’t want to make things awkward between them, they needed to stick to their routine, and cuddling was part of that routine. “I need my teddy bear to help me sleep.”

“Of course, Zed, always,” he told him, hiking his bag further up his shoulder.

Liam’s cheeks were faintly turning pink, a bashful smile on his face, this was when he was most beautiful. Zayn got to see Liam in varying degrees, Liam the popstar, Liam the businessman, and just good ole plan Liam James Payne from Wolverhampton. Liam the popstar was someone to be dazzled by, the way he commands a stage, the presence he has in front of thousands of fans was outstanding, surely something to be admired. Liam the businessman was a take no prisoner type of man, very attentive and aware of his surroundings. He made sure everyone was taken care of, he was the voice of reason within the band.  

Liam James Payne from Wolverhampton was who Zayn fell in love with though. That was the authentic Liam, the one many people rarely got to see. He had to be the other two Liam’s a large majority of the day. The regular Liam, the boy behind the man, the one who giggles at everything he finds funny, the one who blushes whenever he get complimented. He was so selfless and caring and understanding, always patient. Honestly, what took Zayn so long to realize he was in love with Liam? Anyone who ever met the true, authentic Liam would fall in love with him instantly. Karen and Geoff raised a good man.

“Come collect your keys and get on the lift, gents,” Paul called to them, knocking Zayn out of his daydream.

Liam gave Zayn a little shove towards the lift while he volunteered to get their keys. While the keys were being distributed the noise level started to rise a little. People were way past exhaustion but a minimal change in the atmosphere always riled people up, especially Louis. Harry, like always, was trying to quiet him, drag him onto the lift and away from the death glares of a few of the crew members. Caroline just rolled her eyes as she collected her key from Paul, patting an exhausted looking Zayn as she past, kissing his forehead and wishing him a goodnight. Liam returned, placing his free arm around Zayn’s shoulders, almost lifting him up as helping him onto the lift and eventually their shared room. They were both exhausted, the faces looking worn out from the long day and even longer tour schedule. A quick goodnight was said to those who remained on the lift as they exited on their floor.

“I’m gonna change in the loo,” Liam announced once they got into their room and dropped their things on the soon to be vacant bed. “So you can do what you gotta do out here.”

“Thanks,” Zayn replied softly, followed by a yawn he didn’t even try to cover up.

Liam grabbed his bag that contained a change of clothes and his toiletries, it was a luxury when they stayed at a hotel. Trying to shower, shave, or even change on a constantly moving bus was a hassle. Something all five of them learned to conquer rather quickly. He hummed around his toothbrush as he brushed his teeth, some song that was playing at the arena earlier that day from whatever playlist they used to hype the crowd before the show. It felt good to be in a hotel, even better that he got to share that room with Zayn, his best mate. He loved all four boys equally but things just felt different with Zayn. They bonded over more than just being in the same group. Movies, music, comics, everything about them was alike. It was great to have someone who was so compatible with. He had the best mates in the world, a dream job, and a dream girlfriend, someone who understood his lifestyle so perfectly and never once complained.  Liam was just so excited that in a few days’ time Danielle was set to arrive in Las Vegas and spend a few days with him before flying back home. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

“You decent?” Liam asked, opening the bathroom door ajar.

Zayn snorted at the questions. “What a loaded question Payno, but yea, I am.”

Liam laughed at Zayn’s reply and opened the door. Zayn was already sitting on the bed, laptop resting on his legs. “What are we watching tonight?”

“Thor,” he informed him, shuffling up on the bed to rest against the headboard, patting the spot next to him to indicate he wanted Liam to sit down. This could all be looked at as pseudo romantic but Zayn knew he needed to keep this as friendly as possible. Which was probably going to be hard, in more way than one.

“The new one?” Liam asked in excitement as he reached the bed and sat next to Zayn. He lifted the laptop and placed it on the spot where their legs met. A perfect place for both of them to see it properly. “You know being famous does have it perks sometimes.”

Zayn nodded swallowing the lump forming in his throat. He’d touched Liam numerous times within the last few years, hand holding, gently placing a hand on the small of each other backs, even while wrestling backstage at arenas. Even tonight they touched, always did during I Want, it was a routine of theirs. Now it felt different, their outer thighs pressed up against each other, skin on skin. He could feel the hair on Liam’s legs rubbing up against his. Zayn really did hate Louis, making him realize he was in love with Liam. Now everything happening around them made Zayn hyperaware, noticed every little detail now. Some mate Louis was. Thanks bro.

“You okay?” Liam’s gentle voice brought Zayn back to reality. He was rubbing at Zayn’s knee, trying to coax him out of whatever trance he was stuck in. “You spaced out on me for a minute.”

“I-I’m okay,” he assured him, his eyes glued to where Liam’s hand was. “Let-let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”

“I heard it was better than the first once,” Liam told him as he pressed a few buttons on the laptop to start up the movie. “Let me know if you want anything to eat or drink and I’ll pause the movie, okay?”

Zayn just nodded in response as the movie began, the Marvel credits flashing on the screen. He was so excited to watch the movie but couldn’t get his mind to focus. Everything around him was too much. He slowly regretted sharing a room with Liam. He didn’t want things to be awkward between them, to draw any attention to the situation, but it was going to be difficult. Now that he had a name to the gnawing feeling he’d been feeling for so long, it was hard to shove it away. This wasn’t Liam’s fault at all, never would be. Just sitting close to Liam in a bed where they’d eventually lay down and cuddle, a staple of theirs when they share a room. It was going to be an obstacle, he was definitely going to think about all the romantic undertones of cuddling with his best mate who he happened to be in love with.

Never mind the fact that Liam was dating Danielle. Zayn liked Danielle, mostly. She was never around so it was an out of sight out of mind type of relationship. He would never get the way of Liam’s relationship, would never jeopardize it at all. He loved Liam and a part of loving him was respecting those he chose to have in his life, and Danielle was in his life. Zayn tried to focus back on the movie but just watched Liam as he watched the movie. Seeing how animated his face got at certain scenes that were probably highly entertaining and pivotal. He loved seeing Liam’s face light up every time Loki was mentioned or on the screen. He loved the character so much he ended up naming his dog after him. It was the little things that just made him so endearing.

“You stopped watching,” Liam observed, pausing the movie, looking at Zayn. “You want to stop? We can stop if you want to sleep or whatever.”

Zayn faked a yawn and nodded his head. “I’m knackered, maybe we can pick this up tomorrow seeing we have downtime, yeah?”

“Of course,” he agreed, turning off the movie and shutting off the computer, reaching over and placing it on the nightstand. He turned back around and saw that Zayn was already under the covers, getting himself as comfortable as possible. Liam turned off the light and turned in himself, shuffling down the bed to get properly under the covers. “Nothing beats a night in a swanky hotel with me best mate.”

“Yeah,” he tentatively agreed, slowly nodding his head, turning his back to Liam. He sucked in his breath as Liam’s arm snaked around his waist, his insides immediately felt like lava. It was strictly platonic but everything had changed, had shifted, now his body was betraying him.

“Goodnight Zed,” Liam whispered in his ear, scooting closer to tangle their legs together.  

“Night Liam,” he replied, his mouth dry and he closed his eyes and wished himself to fall asleep and fall asleep fast.

A Small Flame || Jungkook || Pt. 6

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt. 4 // Pt. 5 // Pt. 6 //

Word Count: 6660

Genre: dystopian/utopian!au, angst, drama

Summary: In this colorless world, her vision was painted with streaks of the rainbow whenever she saw him and that was enough to start a rebellion.


Fingers cracked in the darkness of the room that was illuminated only by three screens. A figure sat in front of the three screens, his round glasses reflecting the light and his hair kept out of his face by a backwards snapback. He sat hunched, his legs crossed on the rolling chair and his longer fingers flying over the keyboards, his eyes drifting from one profile to the next, whisking past them and shoving aside people that were of no use to him. He let out a sigh as he approached a firewall. He yawned, cracked his neck, and proceeded to break the wall down with several simple taps and he was in the database further.

Keep reading