there have never been any words

Regarding This One Piece Of Criticism Against KFP3: A Defense

I’ve been meaning to make this post for ages and ages; I just want to make this one objection against a specific piece of criticism that I’ve seen. Namely, of the part in the third movie where Oogway tells Po that when he first landed in front of him, he “saw the future… and the past! I saw the panda that could unite them both.”

Some people seem to have interpreted this line differently from here, so I’d like to point out that Oogway’s wording here is vague. I don’t think he meant this literally at all; I do not think he had a literal vision of any sort. The wording in the Chinese version is equally vague, meaning that he was not necessarily talking about an actual vision that he had. I AGREE that had Oogway had an actual vision in that moment, it would have been a little bit off. So I am of the conviction that he never had an actual vision.

He saw Po’s POTENTIAL. He made a connection in his mind to the pandas he’d already had experience with in the past, backing up his choice of Po as the Dragon Warrior a little bit in a way that those around him (Shifu, the five, Po himself) were unaware of.

Basically, he saw Po - a panda - in front of him, and of course he was reminded of the experiences he’d had with pandas, of some of the things they were capable of. His “I saw the future” and “I saw the panda that could unite them both” - this is all about potential here in my eyes. He saw A future that Po could bring, not literally, but he realised that possibility.

I’ve seen the interpretation that Oogway had a literal vision (which I obviously disagree with) and it is argued that Oogway having a literal vision completely nullifies/changes a lot of the point of the first movie.

But since I don’t think there was any actual vision involved I am saying that NOTHING about the first movie is changed. The only thing that’s different is that we are now aware of the connection Oogway made in his mind between Po and the pandas that he’d met in his past. Oogway was still honestly just “going with the flow” by choosing Po. (that rhymes lol)

Po is still not really the predestined “Chosen One” - not strictly so.

Like how do I put this? “There are no accidents”, but at the same time everything just kind of works out in the end sort of thing? Oogway was just going with the flow. Nothing was set in stone but it did work out. I don’t know how to explain the fact that destiny is in full effect but not in the way that some people have been criticising,,.. I don’t know how to adequately convey that.

Yeah, movies 1 & 2 kinda emphasise that there’s nothing particularly special about Po, but to look what he is capable of - look what he can become.

I’ve seen it said that the message here is that anyone could have become the Dragon Warrior and that that’s the message, that that’s the subversion of “the Chosen One”, but I don’t really buy into that.

And since movie 3 seems to be saying “actually Po is special no one else is as special as Po and can do what he does, he’s the chosen one!” that is obviously a source of criticism.

But I don’t think any morals here have been undermined. We still know how Po started out, still know he had to work damn hard and honestly Po has grown to become Exceptional in his own right. The moral of Movie 3 is to be the best you you can be etc. Po being the Dragon Warrior wasn’t  particularly “Predestined” but There Are No Accidents and I honestly think he is the only one who can fully fulfil that specific role. This is not a downer message. Everyone has an incredible potential that they can fulfil, and for Po that is being the Dragon Warrior. Other people have other things that they can fulfil and become incredible. And we take courage from the fact that Po has come so far and to look where he is now, fulfilling his potential. So basically:

  • Just because Po has reached mind-numbingly awesome levels at being the Dragon Warrior doesn’t mean that others can’t reach awesome levels in roles that they are suited to and/or have carved out for themselves. Po’s accomplishments are not alienating to the audience for this reason because a focus of the third movie is bettering oneself, being the best YOU you can be. Not the best Po. Not the best Dragon Warrior. The best YOU. (And for Po, being the best him he could be is what he showed us. And that is unique to him. Everyone has stuff unique to them)
  • The third movie helps build on what the previous two movies have shown us in regards to having Po go from your average kinda guy with no Kung Fu skills to the Dragon Warrior. Not only does this help us appreciate how awesome PO is becauase WHOAA he’s come SO far and he can become this awesome considering how he started out?! But it teaches that OTHERS also have the POTENTIAL to make that same kind of incredible progress and up their levels of awesomeness beyond imaginable, even if they currently don’t seem particularly impressive. Therefore, I don’t find the showing off of Po being Super Awesomely Special to be alienating at all for this further reason. Because it is not an inherent, unique characteristic that only he possesses but something he grew into and something that others possess the potential of. We all have our inner Super Special Awesomeness Potential kinda thing. After all, he started off pretty average just like us.
Ghost

Fandom: John Wick
Request: “Hello lovely!! May I please have a John Wick request where they’re married and they get into an argument and the reader (who is a hacker) doesn’t want to talk to him for a few days and disappears? If you can, that would be great!! Thank you”
Word Count: 1352


You waited patiently for the test results to appear. You had been feeling sick for the past week so John decided to do a contract on his own. Usually, you both did it together, you called it double trouble. You always thought you’d be in that life forever. You had secretly wanted a family someday. To retire and live in a nice place with kids.

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anonymous asked:

I truely cannot believe this mass hysteria the press & sugars are putting out for a woman who has NEVER been seen in the same pic frame as any of PH cousins , PW & Kate , PC & C or most importantly HM . This is NOT what happens when a RF engagement is imminent , the RF are the ones that introduce future Famly to the world at their RF events , not the press making up BS. Adults out there just laugh , the Press are all the way to the bank. Use common sense, never in a million yrs will trash enter.

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

I have no words to add anon a because you just hit the nail on the head. ANONS PLEASE READ the above 👆👆👆, The Royals Introduce future potential candidates to the world and truly not by Spooning Bananas on IG. So the media are still running with this and banking whilst all STUPID teenage girls are believing it.

thanks anon and perfectly said.😊👍  

variety.com
‘Supergirl,’ ‘Arrow’ Producer Suspended Amid Sexual Harassment Allegations by Warner Bros.
Warner Bros. TV Group has launched an investigation into allegations of inappropriate behavior by Andrew Kreisberg, an executive producer on the CW shows “Arrow,” “Supergirl,” “The Flash” and “DC’s…
By Maureen Ryan

Warner Bros. TV Group has launched an investigation into allegations of inappropriate behavior by Andrew Kreisberg, an executive producer on the CW shows “Arrow,” “Supergirl,” “The Flash” and “DC’s Legends of Tomorrow,” Variety has learned. Kreisberg, who has been suspended by the studio, has engaged in a pattern of alleged sexual harassment and inappropriate physical contact over a period of years, according to 15 women and four men who have worked with him.

“We have recently been made aware of allegations of misconduct against Andrew Kreisberg,” said Warner Bros. TV Group in a statement to Variety. “We have suspended Mr. Kreisberg and are conducting an internal investigation. We take all allegations of misconduct extremely seriously, and are committed to creating a safe working environment for our employees and everyone involved in our productions.”

Kreisberg strongly denies the allegations in this story.

None of the 19 sources for this story wanted to be named for fear of retaliation. Many of the women are current or former employees in a range of positions on those shows, and they cited fear of retaliation from either Warner Bros., the studio that makes those dramas, or from the companies and individuals associated with those programs.

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i’m over him
it’s been months
as i spun my head around
trying to find any sign of him
in this crowded room
No Regrets - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Originally posted by little--batman

Summary: Soulmate!AU - When your soulmate gets hurt you receive a flower tattoo on your body on the same location they were wounded. Imagine (Y/N) having her whole left arm covered in flowers while Buckys whole hand was covered in them.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warning: There really isn’t any, unless you’re afraid of Bucky finding happiness. If you’re afraid of that I feel sorry for you.

A/N: First soulmate au?? Been wanting to do this one long before I started this blog??

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When Bucky grew up he didn’t have flowers on him like the other kids. Nobody ever knew that, of course, he was good looking enough to get whoever he wanted at his hip. That’s one main reason why he got along with Steve, Steve never got any either. They both believed maybe they weren’t destined to have a soulmate, of course there was the option that their soulmates maybe never have been hurt but it was a long shot.

After being woken up from his cryogenic stasis and retrieving most of his memories back he realized his whole right hand was covered in flowers. He never believed he had a soulmate but it registered in his head that his soulmate was from a different time period than what he was from. He soon also figured out that Steve also had the same issue; He had a soulmate but was destined to meet them after he woke up from his frozen state.

As for (Y/N)? She had millions of flowers. Some were randomly placed on her body, Bucky had them as well. But the ones that stood out the most were the full sleeve she had on her left arm. She often hid it but lately she began to flaunt it off. Her soulmate had to have had something messed with their whole left arm, it wouldn’t have been that hard to point out in public too. She always looked out for the left arms of strangers in public, but she never had good luck.

Not only that but (Y/N) constantly looked at the hands of people as well. She knew they would have flowers there. She wasn’t as normal and ordinary as others, she had powers that nobody else had. She hid them, she knew what happened to people after they showed others the gifts they possessed. She was practically a human torch, she could heat up anything she wanted. When she was younger she was practicing and accidentally burned her hands, it was so bad that she couldn’t use them for weeks and had to make up an excuse that she did it while cooking something. Of course everyone believed her because nobody thought of the alternative that she had super powers. She hated the way her hands looked, scars covered them from her wrist to the top of her fingers, she would never go anywhere without hiding them with gloves.

She was cleaning up the counters of her job in the middle of the day when an oddly large group walked in. She sighed to herself knowing she would have to take care of them because the only other person on duty was already at another table. (Y/N) was wearing a classic blue and white waitress outfit and her jacket, it was a chilly day so nobody obliged to her clothing choices. She often wore a jacket anyways, only due to the tattoos crawling up her left arm.

(Y/N) walked up to the table that the group had chose to sit at before preparing herself to take their orders. She flipped open her small notebook before taking the pen out of her pocket, plastering a fake smile on her face.

“Hello, I’m (Y/N). I’ll be your waitress today, if you need anything please run it by me! I can order your drinks if you would like and while I go make them I’ll give you time to choose what you’d like to order.” She gave a toothy smile before looking at everyone, waiting for someone to point out what they’d like to drink.

“I’ll just have a water, please.” The blonde male spoke up first and gave you a smile.

“Me too, I’d like a water.” His darker friend next to him ordered the same thing and thanked her shortly after.

“I’ll have a strawberry milkshake and my pal here would like a coffee, please.” A redhead clapped her hands before patting her older friend on the back, receiving a glare that soon turned into a joking smile.

“And you two?” (Y/N) looked at the two males who haven’t given a drink yet. One was looking at the menu while the other was staring off into his lap.

“I suppose you don’t have alcohol here, do you?” A bearded (and clearly) wealthy man gave her a look before setting the drink menu down.

“No sir. The only drinks we have are on that menu.”

“Then I’ll just have a shake as well. Make it a mint.”

She wrote down the drink before focusing her gaze on the quiet man. His head was down and his conscience clearly wasn’t with the rest of them. His long brown hair overlapped most of his face and a hat was covering his eyes. He wore a baggy black sweatshirt and gloves. If anything, he didn’t want to be there and it was very noticeable.

“He’ll have a water too, thanks.” The same blonde from earlier spoke up on the quiet mans behalf. She nodded with a smile before returning to behind the counter to make the drinks. She was almost done until a bit of the mint milkshake spilt onto the sleeve of her jacket. She cursed quietly to the point where only she could hear herself and removed her jacket, setting it in the back room before looking at her tattooed arm in disgust. She always wanted to flaunt her arm around but never while on the job. She mostly got bad looks from it and it often decreased her chances on a tip. If it meant less money, then she wasn’t a big fan.

She finished the drinks before placing them onto a tray and carrying them to the table with one hand. She set half of it down on the table and half balanced with her knee before she started to hand them out towards everyone. When she was finished she set the tray under her arm and pulled out her notebook once again to write down the orders of the group. She smiled to the few who thanked her for the drinks.

“Have enough time to figure out what you want to eat?” She put on the same fake smile as before. They ordered their food one after one and yet again the quiet man was the one that was last to order. She looked up at him only to realize his eyes were strongly fixated onto her arm. Her confidence completely dropped knowing the meaning behind his stare, every time a customer laid eyes onto her arm she felt insecure, she felt as if she should apologize like it was her fault, and so she did.

“I am so very sorry, sir. I’ll go put on my jacket.” She was about to quickly go throw on her stained jacket before he spoke up in a deep, raspy voice. It was the first words he had spoken since he entered the building.

Why do you wear gloves?” She stopped in her tracks and stared at his with wide eyes. By this point the rest of the group had realized why he was so interested in her arm and hands. They all shared the same look, they all wondered if this was Buckys soulmate.

“To hide what’s underneath.” Her eyebrows were furrowed at the mysterious man. She had to admit, she had no idea what his deal was. First he stares at her arm and then asks what she is hiding underneath the leather on her hands. Of course, she was oblivious to what was happening but perhaps it’s because she didn’t know what was under his left arms sleeve.

Buckys right arm pulled down the zipper of his jacket before tearing it off. At the same time he ripped off the gloves from his hands and stared at the flowers inked perfectly around his palms. (Y/N)’s eyes widen as she looked at the cybernetic limb connected to his body. His whole left arm was missing, and her whole left arm was covered. Bucky raised his human hand and showed her the printings on it, his eyebrow raised as he focused his gaze on her covered hands.

Overcoming her ego, she set the tray and notebook down on a nearby table before unbuckling the bucks on her gloves and sliding them off. Her hands were burnt beyond any recognition, if it weren’t for the obvious figure by her fingers and palms, you wouldn’t be able to tell it was actual human flesh. Bucky soon stood up and walked towards (Y/N).

“Come with me.” He whispered into her ear with a stern voice. She quickly caught on before grabbing her notebook and handing it to her co-worker. Her co-worker nodded in agreement, by the look on (Y/N)’s face she knew she needed a moment. She quickly thanked her before running out the front doors to meet up with the stranger who just so happened to possibly be her soulmate. When she walked out he had his hat in one hand balanced on his hip and his other was running through his hair. They stood there silently for a minute before he looked her in the eye and spoke up.

“I have a line of flowers on my lower back.” His hand went to the neck of his shirt before lifting up a bit to show the tattoo on his back. (Y/N)’s hand came to cover her mouth. It was the same scar she received when she was little, it reach from the lower part of her back to the middle. If she wasn’t wearing a dress she would have showed him then and there to prove to him.

You’re my soulmate.” She spoke through her hand. He hands dropped to his sides as he stared at face. He stared at every detail noticeable by the human eye before looking at her burnt hands covering her lips. He saw the way her nose perked out, the way her (Y/E/C) eyes stared at his. Her eyes were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, he could stare at them for hours. He stared at her luscious (Y/H/C) hair and the way it was perfectly laying above her shoulders.

“God, you’re beautiful.” His hand hesitantly came up and caressed hers, overlapping her cheek. Within a second her hands snaked around the boys neck and pulled his body into a tight hug. His body tensed up from the contact but soon after he relaxed and put his around her waist. She set her head in the crook of his neck and smelt his amazing aroma. After a moment of standing there (Y/N) opened her eyes and saw his friends staring out the side window at them. She let out a small giggle before pointing into their direction.

When Bucky turned around he let out a big scoff before giving them the finger, his lips turned into a smile once he heard the beautiful, moment-stopping laugh escaping her lips. He grabbed her hand before giving it a kiss and staring at the scars left on her.

“You shouldn’t hide your hands, you know.”

“And you shouldn’t hide your arm.”

Bucky had stayed with (Y/N), sitting at the bar stool where she normally would be behind the stand. His friends soon left after eating and patted him on his back, knowing he was going to stay for a while. They talked all night like normal people having a normal conversation. He learned about her past and she learned about his.

“So why exactly did you feel the need to put your jacket on earlier when I was looking at your arm? And why do you wear the gloves? I mean I understand the looks you would get from people, I get them too when people see my arm but… I’m just asking why you care of what others think.”

She set the last dirty dish into the washer before turning it on and facing him. “It doesn’t give you the best reputation.” She removed the rubber gloves from her hands and placed them into the trash before lifting her hands and studying every crease and imperfection.

“I hate being known as the girl with the burnt hands. I hate receiving stares and sympathy looks. I hate walking down the street and hearing someone whisper ‘that really must have hurt’. People who want their food suspect that a well professional, that isn’t covered in ink and scars will serve them, hiding them not only satisfies their needs but it gets me more money. It’s just how business works.”

His hands reach for hers and brought them up to his lips. He kissed the top of her hand over and over and looked into her eyes.

“Don’t ever feel like you need to hide anything from me. You’re my soulmate and I wouldn’t want you any other way. Besides, your arm is my fault anyways. If I hadn’t lost my arm then-” (Y/N) smiled at him before cutting him off.

“Don’t. I wouldn’t want you any other way.” His teeth shined through and she mimicked his smile. They had been there hour after hour talking about anything and everything. It was the first time Bucky had truly opened up to someone and he didn’t regret it at all. He loved the way she would smile and laugh at any joke he said, whether it was funny or not. He loved the way she would give him a concerned and loving look after he shared a hurtful memory from his past. He loved the way she would listen to every word he would say, thoughtfully while simultaneously thinking of the perfect thing to say back. He wasn’t even suppose to originally come to this restaurant at first but Steve insisted, and he didn’t regret giving into his best friends wishes. He didn’t regret anything he did in his life because it all led up to this moment, the moment where he met the love of his life.

He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He didn’t regret a thing.

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Tags:
@gallifreyansass @bellastellaluna @walkingtravesty97 @crazy4thewinbros @iamwarrenspeace @ginger-wayward-assbutt

Bruise [ IX ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst [M]

Length: 6k

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: He wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, but that couldn’t stop your heart from believing otherwise.

Bruise Masterlist

Originally posted by loverkoreanasian

Red was the color that painted your skin through the sleepless night alone. Your eyes grew red from the endless stream of frustrated tears that dripped down your temples. Your cheeks changed hue from rawness, the sleeves of your sweater scratching away at them until they near bled. Your phone battery drained to zero, red painting the icon when you stared at it, debating calling him so his voice could fade your consciousness. Your lips drew too much blood to the surface when you bit down on them to stop another sigh from slipping out, desperate for it to all stop. Desperate for everything to be a dream you could wake up from rather than something you had to deal with when the sun rose back up into the sky.

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Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

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Forgetting You Spell

Originally posted by the-eternal-moonshine

A spell to aid your process in separating yourself from someone you no longer wish to think of.

You will need:

  • 1 Egg
  • Pen and paper
  • Outside area you will not return to

First of all, ensure to remove all physical and digital traces of the person. Delete the photographs, the messages, the emails. Let things be as wrapped up as you can get them with the individual. Give yourself no way to reach out to them again. This is final and you have to make a commitment to that.

Write a letter. Write the letter about how you are moving on. Write that the individual will fade into obscurity. Write that there will come a day where you can not remember their voice, their face, their name. Write the reasons why. Write about all the ways you will be able to improve yourself without them.

Pick up the egg. Cleanse yourself with it. Move it over your heart to take away the pain the individual caused you. Move it over your hands to remove every time they held them. Press it to your lips to remove the words you said and the kisses they left. Hold it on your forehead to remove the voice of them in the back of your mind.

Carefully wrap the paper around the egg and scrunch the paper up at the end so you can safely carry it. Go to a place you know you will never return to. Place the wrapped up egg on the floor. Hold in your mind for one last time any lingering thoughts of the person, release any tears you have been holding back, scream if you need to. Rise all of that negative energy up.

When you are ready, lift your foot high and stamp on the egg as hard as you can. Don’t look at it while you do this. Turn away. Walk away. 

Never look back. 

I just wanted to belong

A/N: Happy Angst Appreciation Day round three, it’s a day late, but life happens. Reader is Dean’s 17 year old daughter who has a twin brother named Robby.

Dean x Daughter!Reader    Sam x Sister!Reader

Originally posted by sammy-samulet

You stood at the counter of the diner trying to decide if you should go back to the booth where your father, uncle, and twin brother sat, or if you’d have a better time alone at the counter. You’d gone up to ask for more napkins to clean up a spill that Robby, your twin had made. However glancing back you saw that they had waved down the waitress who your dad and brother were both flirting with.

With the roll of your eyes you took a seat at the counter; knowing you’d actually enjoy your meal if you weren’t near your father or brother.

You loved them both dearly and at one point your entire family was so close knit that your absence would have been noticed right away. However as you grew older the bond you shared with your twin and father began to disappear and once you started going on hunts with your dad and uncle, it all but vanished.

At first you told yourself that you were overreacting; that your father was just constantly worried about you, but as time went on you saw how close Robby and your dad still were, yet you remained on the outside.

It was something that your dad and brother both seemed oblivious to. Whenever you’d try to involve yourself in what they were doing they would send you away with some excuse as to why you couldn’t participate with them and soon you just stopped asking.

This never seemed to effect them, but it sure effected you.

Your father and Robby might not have seen what they were doing, but your Uncle Sam sure did. At first he tried to stick up for you, pointing out to Dean all the times it seemed that Robby and him would purposefully leave you out. Dean would deny it and after countless arguments with no change Sam stopped trying. Instead he became the figure in your life you so desperately wanted.

Still, there were times that Sam got sucked into whatever fun Robby and your dad were having; leaving you to be the outsider in your family again.

It was a role you learned to accept and gave up hope that it’d change.

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The stupidest little things make Cas ridiculously happy.

The first time they see a hot air balloon, floating over a small town for no apparent reason. The first time they strip down to their underwear in the middle of summer and jump into a lake. The first time Cas plays a video game. No matter how mundane or normal it seems to Dean, Cas smiles like it’s the most amazing, impossibly wonderful thing that’s ever happened.

Dean finds himself pointing out the little things, finding small ways for them to enjoy life and enjoy each other, just so he can see that smile.

And though he loves it, he can’t help but ask Cas about it one day. They’re driving, and Cas is staring at a faint rainbow in the sky like it’s the first one to ever happen.

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

“Sure, Cas. But, uh. Why are you so into all this stuff?”

“All what stuff, Dean?”

Dean can feel those blue eyes on him without even looking, probably scrunched up, with his head tilted in that way that Dean has grown to love. “All this normal, human stuff. You’ve been around long enough to have seen and done all this before.”

“Yes, but I haven’t seen or done any of it with you before.”

Dean understands instantly. Cas’ words open up something in him, and when he looks from the road up to the rainbow, it’s a little brighter, a little more colorful than it seemed two minutes ago.

He should probably say something, but he’s never been very good at that.

So he just reaches out and holds Cas’ hand.

And that feels like the most amazing thing of all.

Women outside of the African diaspora, please stop saying "rock your natural hair."

From straightening to color processing, we put our hair through a lot to achieve the looks we want. Rarely do we consider working with what we already have. Think about it: when was the last time you wore your hair as is? This season, we’re challenging you to embrace your hair and rock a style that works with your natural texture, not against it.

Not convinced? Just take a look at the three POPSUGAR staffers ahead who have each come to love their unique hair texture over the years and revealed their tips for showing it off. Whatever your hair type, their relatable stories and gorgeous no-fuss styles will inspire you to rethink it the next time you find yourself reaching for a hot tool.

(cont. POPSUGAR)

This article isn’t all that important, but look at the women chosen to “rock their natural hair.”

Who thinks of these women when you hear the phrase natural hair? I just want to make a plea:  Women outside of the African diaspora, please stop saying “rock your natural hair.”  You can call it virgin.  You can call it unprocessed.  You can call it anything other than natural hair because that’s a movement for Black women.  

I’m not saying this as part of an overreach of cultural appropriation accusations at all, because this has nothing to do with that.  This isn’t the n-word conversation where the answer to “can I say it too?” is always an emphatic NO! from the majority of people. And I have no problem with women of all backgrounds embracing the hair as it sprouts from their heads without the addition of heat or chemicals.  I support any trend where women aren’t doing damage to part of themselves to fit a beauty standard.

But.  The women in these photos have never not been allowed to wear their hair without chemicals or damaging processes.  There has never been a point in history these women couldn’t just wash and go, even if that meant a wash and go with a hair band.  The hair types on these women are always acceptable in any business or social situation.  They’ve never been denied a job because of their hair.  They’ve never been told they’re aggressive or too political because of their hair.  Their hair has never been illegal.  (You can have a different conversation about countries where women have to cover their hair, but that applies to all women, not just women of a certain race, and it applies to all hair, not just hair that’s kinky, so the legality isn’t based on hair at all.)

Black women rocking their natural hair has nothing to do with white women learning to manage their frizz.  Those are two separate conversations.  One is about actually fitting into society and the other is about managing a beauty standard that always caters to women who look like you anyway.  The natural hair movement is about re-teaching Black women how to care for their hair after all of that knowledge was lost to our people when we were dragged to this continent and forced to use sheep shears and banned from traditional African hairstyles.  Natural hair blogs and messageboards and haircare lines aren’t just educational resources, but emotional ones as well, where Black women can discuss their struggles embracing their natural kinks and coils in a society where the beauty standard for hair is the women in these pictures instead.  When non-Black women take up the charge of “rocking their natural hair” it dilutes the conversation and it makes it harder to connect.  There are way more non-Black women than Black women in this country and they will drown out the voices who needed the support the most if allowed to.

So as a courtesy, find some other banner.  The natural hair movement wasn’t started for y'all or by y'all and it’s not as integral to y'all’s culture or survival.  So just use a different term.  Once again, y’all saw something cute and catchy that Black people were doing, wanted to capitalize on it, and whitewashed the meaning out of it.  Skipping your weekly blowout in the summer has nothing to do with taking the risk of being fired if you waltz into work without a mid-length sew-in and your coils on display instead.  Find another way to share white girl hair tips.  Please.

Edit: I really don’t get what’s so hard to understand about this.

To Jungkook you’re just a girlfriend. - pt.3 End

[pt.1] [p.2] [pt.3 End]

Originally posted by jkguks

It’s taking me a long time to get over him two months and three days to be exact, and right now I’m still hung up over the fact that our relationship ended so badly. After we had argued that night, I actually wanted to apologise for being so jealous when we were both in the right states of minds and when we were both calm from the fire I’d started. But when Taehyung came over and told me all the things he’d witnessed, I felt so stupid. Stupid for trusting him, for wanting to apologise for not accepting a mere friendship of his with another girl. Stupid because I still love him, I know he didn’t kiss her and that to some degree isn’t ‘cheating’ per se, but if I hadn’t sent him that message, if I hadn’t been the one to distract him, would he have stopped by himself? The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that the answer was always going to be a no. Jungkook was never the type to check his phone straight away when it buzzed, so he must’ve glanced and saw my name and when he saw my name he remembered that he does still have a girlfriend, one he was about to cheat on. He wanted to kiss her and he wasn’t going to stop, and he must have wanted to; so to me that is still cheating. So I don’t get why I still love him. I honestly couldn’t thank Tae enough for telling me the truth, he’s a good friend to both Jungkook and I. Even if it seems as though he betrayed him, it’s what a good friend should do and will do.

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We’re Just Friends

Originally posted by adrypopescu

Thanks so much to darellybieber for requesting this. I loved writing it! Remember to send me requests, comments, concerns, or even a little bit about you. I’d love to get to know all of you! Thanks for the love and support as always! xx - L

Harry invites Y/N to come on vacation with him and his family, and true feelings are revealed.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,784

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Lava

Based off this video because I cannot stop laughing


It had started out as a simple enough dare, Dean and Cas would each get a total of 3 tries per person to try and “kill” the other by telling the other that “the floor is lava.” They would then have five seconds before they had to find a way to get off the ground and scream that the floor was lava to any unsuspecting passerby if there were anyway. There was no prize, not really. Dean just really wanted to beat Cas at something, and Cas didn’t mind if he got bragging rights.

Cas had been first, during a walk in the park between their two college classes on campus. “The floor is lava,” he’d casually said. Dean had not understood until he did, and at which point he only had 3 seconds left and nothing that he could use to get off the ground. Nothing, except, for a trashcan just up the trail. He’d made it with one second to spare.

“The floor is lava!” Dean screamed triumphantly, balancing precariously on the poor trashcan below him. He had managed to get into a crouch before the inevitable happened––when Dean went to get down back onto the ground and rejoin Cas he slipped and wound up wedging his butt straight into the trashcan. Castiel wouldn’t let him forget it for a week.

The next turn had been Dean’s, choosing to wait until Cas and he were on a grocery run to enact his plan.

“Hey, Cas,” he called the other’s attention while they were in the toilet paper aisle. 

“Hm?”

“The floor is lava.” 

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sometimes i think about how jake is a pretty competitive, driven character (the bet with amy, the halloween bets with holt, the eps from earlier seasons where he’s always trying to do his best + win + prove his worth), but even from the start he never truly let that get in the way of his support and care for the squad and esp for amy. 

as early on as season 1/operation broken feather he wrote that recommendation letter for her because at the end of the day, he had her back, he respected her as a partner and a friend, and he wanted her to succeed. and that same support continued all the way to season 4, his line “i’ve always known you were gonna be my boss” was like. so representative of their dynamic and his love/respect for her, and how nothing else really tops that. 

he let go of the bet of who’s going to move into the other’s place because he cared about her more than winning it. when amy won halloween III even when he almost got in over his head, he was apologetic to her, then proud and happy to crown her the queen of the 99. 

esp. important i think seeing as he’s the main male lead of a comedy show in a central pairing/relationship, and he has never once felt truly threatened by her accomplishments, and never once genuinely put his own competitiveness or pride before her wellbeing. their relationship has never fallen to the “man unhealthily jealous/threatened by his girlfriend/wife’s accomplishments” or other countless similar tropes. he loves her and at the end of the day that’s what matters to him the most. and he knows she’ll make a great sergeant and we all know he’s going to be with her every step of that path. 

anonymous asked:

Okay...weird shit happejed to you throuout yojr life, but has anything happened on Halloween specifically (other than you selling your soul to a demon)

Alright, it’s time for the requested and promised Ouija Board Story™

Listen, before I start this I wanna put a REALLY STRONG trigger warning on it- I really, truly recommend you not read this if you’ve been affected by suicide or get very easily freaked out by thoughts of death and the afterlife. I am not fucking kidding around here, okay? Someone in my family killed themselves over the summer and I’ve been trying so hard to not think about this whole event, because it’s terrifying to imagine anyone I know in this situation. Really think about it before you keep reading, okay? While this is an interesting and cool story I’m posting for Halloween, I don’t wanna get anyone too freaked out. If you think this is gonna mess with you or sit with you, just keep scrolling. 

This happened in 2015. My friend Zoe (@commando-rogers) decided to have some friends over for Halloween, because like, who doesn’t want plans on Halloween, right? Also there was Alexa (@starshiprangpr), Patricia (@trishaslats), Liz, and Ian (I don’t know if they have accounts if they do I’ll add them later). I’ve known these guys for years, so it was sure to be a fun night. 

Now, like. I’m bored with life. I’m freshly 20 years old. It’s Halloween. I’m dressed like Mabel Pines. I’m ready to fucking party. And we did have, you know, regular, normal fun at first- ate junk food, joked around, stuff like that. Average hangout. But then, a few hours into the night…Zoe pulls out a fucking Ouija Board. 

I’m immediately on the other side of the room, tbh. I’m very interested in paranormal stuff, and I was raised Catholic, and I’m also not a dumbass, so I know not to fuck around with Ouija Boards. You just don’t use them, ever! It’s never a good idea! Even if nothing talks to you through it, you’re still opening yourself up for something to happen. But I also knew this was five against one, so I didn’t stand much of a chance complaining. I conceded to watching whatever happens from a safe distance on the couch and not actually touching the board. Lord knows, I insisted, with my luck? Touching the board will get my ass possessed. 

The girls seemed to somewhat agree with me on that- Ian was the only person who agreed to use the board with Zoe. Ian’s a very smart, logical guy, you know, like the token genius asshole friend that you love to death even if he gets a little condescending occasionally? Love the guy. But he was pretty sure it was all bs and nothing would happen, versus Zoe’s deep belief in the paranormal, so they made a bit of a weird pair working the board. I remember texting my friend Raychel about what was about to happen, and getting the response “YOU MOTHER FUCKING WHITE PEOPLE FIT ALL THE HORROR MOVIE ARCHTYPES GET YOUR BULLSHIT TOGETHER AND DONT DO THIS”. And I agreed with her, honestly, but I did actually have a strong curiosity to see if anything would happen. Zoe had told me all about her trying to use the board by herself before (bad!!! idea!!!)- she said she never got any words out of the board, but her camera or phone or whatever she was trying to film the session with would always malfunction or die unexpectedly. No one expected what happened though. 

Now, before I really start, I wanna say- could this have all been an elaborate hoax by Ian or Zoe? Sure. Absolutely. Believe that if you want- but Zoe was so freaked out and even got all shook when we were going over details the other day, and Ian seemed really rocked, and honestly I can’t think of anything they’d get out of keeping up a ruse on it for two years now, especially when people they’re good friends with were literally crying during this mess, so…I really don’t think this was fake. Like, I want to believe it was fake. As I mentioned in the trigger warning, this has really stuck with me and been bugging me as of late, so if one of them suddenly fessed up that it was a prank? I would fucking jump for joy! But it doesn’t look like that’s the case (otherwise, they’re just, you know, dicks by this point). So, anyway, whether you believe it or not, just know that I am absolutely not lying about anything that happened in this story. I’m recounting everything truthfully. 

Okay, so…Ouija Boards have rules, you know? You have to be polite, say hello and goodbye even if nothing speaks to you, you have to keep at least two fingers on the planchette and ‘charge’ the piece, I’m not going over all the guidelines right now. And also, when a living person is manipulating the planchette…Like, you can tell. You can feel it. Zoe and Ian charged the piece, we all said hello, and we waited in silence. 

Zoe asked ‘Is there anybody here?’

Nothing happened for a long moment, but then…the planchette slowly started sliding towards ‘YES’. 

Ian was trying to look like his eyes weren’t wide, and going ‘Zoe! Zoe are you moving it!’ but Zoe was already having a mild freak out, her voice higher then normal and repeating ‘Holy shit holy shit holy shit!’ (like I said…she’s a deep believer in the paranormal). 

When it finally landed on yes, she took a deep breath and tried to seem a bit, I guess, politer. “Um, okay, hi, I’m Zoe? This is Ian and our other friends. What’s your name?”

…K…E…V…I…N.

Patricia made some joke about the name but got shushed. 

“Are you…usually in my house?”

‘NO’.

“Are you…here for someone?”

‘YES’.

We’ve only been at this for a few minutes and there was already that feeling in the air- you know, the one that gets over described every time anyone recounts a paranormal experience? Just a heavy feeling in the air, a twisted feeling in your gut, the feeling that someone is right behind you. Tension was building even though nothing had really happened to warrant it yet. 

“Who are you here for, Kevin?”

The planchette starts to slide towards the ‘I’. Cue to five girls yelling “IAN” in high pitched, worried (and some teasing) voices as the boy in question’s eyes are flying out of his head. 

It spells out the rest of his name. Zoe asks, “Is there anything you want to say to Ian?”

…H…E…L…L…O.

Me, an asshole who needed to cut some tension before she got sick: “Hello from the other side~~~~~~”.

Pillows were thrown at me.

The board respelled ‘Hello’. 

I will literally never forget the awkward forced smile on Ian’s face, or the raised eyebrows, or the way his confused voice cracked when he said, “…Hi, Kevin?” 

…H…I.

“How do you know Ian?”

…F…R…I…E…N…D…S.

Ian looked at is, giving an insistent whisper of “I don’t know any dead Kevins!”

That had us all stumped for a few moments, before “Do you think maybe like, past lives?”

Zoe asked Kevin if that was right. The planchette flew to the ‘YES’. 

“So Ian was your friend in his past life then? Who was he?”

…E…V…A…N.

“Evan! So how did Evan die?”

…C…A…R.

“Oh. Were you, like…with him?”

‘NO’.

“How did you die then?”

Nothing happened for a few minutes, the piece didn’t move an inch. They recharged it and Zoe tried again. “Was that a rude question? Do you not want to talk about that?”

‘YES’.

“I’m so sorry, we’re not trying to be rude.”

…F…I…N…E.

We started brainstorming for better questions (Zoe or Ian had to be the ones to formally ask, though). 

“Where were you from?”

…O…H…I…O.

“And what year did Ian die?”

(I’m going to admit here that I can’t remember the exact year, it was definitely around the 1920′s or 30′s, though. We all thought it was a bit odd that the death year wasn’t exactly close to Ian’s birth year)

“What year did you die?”

He spelled out the same year. 

“Oh? Um…how long after Evan did you die?”

A long pause, and then: …W…E…E…K. 

“But you didn’t reincarnate like Ian?”

‘NO’. 

“Why not?”

The board fell silent again. They recharged. “Sorry. Um…Why did you decide to find Ian in his current life?”

…B…E…S…T…F…R…I…E…N…D. 

Before we could all start flat out cooing at that, it kept going, spelling out ‘…S…A…F…E.’

“Oh, so you’re his guardian angel?”

…C…L…O…S…E. 

“Close?”

No response. “Okay…How did you know Ian was Evan?”

…H…I…S…E…Y…E…S. 

(cue everyone going ‘awwwww’) “You have the same eyes when you reincarnate?”

‘YES’. 

“So…what were you doing before Ian was born?”

It fell silent again. 

“Kevin? We’re sorry?”

…F…I…N…E. 

“What did you mean by ‘close’ to a guardian angel? Are you not an angel?”

‘NO’.

“So…what are you, then?”

…S…T…O…P.

“Okay, sorry. Um…Is anyone else here with you?”

…Y…E…S.

“Who’s here with you?”

…D…E…A…T…H.

DEATH.

WHEN I TELL YOU WE SCREAMED. No one was Goddamn prepared for an answer like that! We’re just a bunch of asshole teens! None of us actually wanna die! What the fuck!!!! 

While we were all busy freaking out and trying to rationalize, Zoe managed to choke out a “Is…Death here for someone in this room?!”

‘NO’. 

“Is Death going to effect someone in this room?”

‘NO’. 

That got us to all calm down slightly, but….We were literally just told DEATH IS AMONG US. We were still freaking out, and were trying to figure out what Kevin meant by that. After a while though, something clicked. 

“Kevin? Does Death just have to be with you in order for you to talk to us?”

‘YES’.

THIS.

THIS LITERAL GODDAMN GHOST GOT PISSED OFF AT US.

AND SAW THE OPPORTUNITY TO FUCKING TROLL A BUNCH OF SHITTY TEENS. 

AND HE GODDAMN TOOK IT.

I HAVE NEVER RESPECTED A MAN MORE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. I STILL CANNOT GET OVER THIS. Eternal hats off to you, Kevin, oh my God.

We all slowly recovered from that scare, a little more wary about pissing Kevin off but also…more curious, because there was a lot to ask and a lot he seemed to want to hide. 

“Um…so is Heaven and all that real?”

A very, very long pause. Zoe and Ian almost went to recharge and try a new question, but then it slowly slide over to ‘YES’. 

The pause seemed to make it clear it wasn’t something he really wanted to go into. But, “So…what’s Heaven like?”

A long pause. …D…R…E…A…M.

“…And…is hell real?”

The planchette immediately flew around the board, spelling: …N…I…G…H…T…M…A…R…E.

None of us really knew what to say about that. 

We asked a few more questions, but Kevin still didn’t want to talk about himself that much. He liked talking about Evan, though (After this night, we had a running joke for a little bit about ‘cant believe we’re shipping Ian with a ghost’. There were some ‘implications’ I remember we all picked up on) But he still avoided questions pertaining to him. Zoe had a very worried look on her face around this point. She had been very curious about Kevin’s unwillingness to talk about certain topics, and things were slowly piecing together in her mind. She tried once more to get answers. “Kevin, I’m really sorry for asking, but I just- Um, I’m sorry, but did you kill yourself?”

There was a bright flash in the room. 

That made everyone jump and look around- we had caught it in the window, but we couldn’t see anyone outside or around the house. Zoe’s parents and brother were upstairs. We couldn’t find anything that would have caused it. It was just a flash, but we were completely alone and with the timing of the question…Well, everyone was unsettled about it. 

We eventually settled back down and recharged the board. “Kevin?…Did you?”

Slowly, it slid towards the ‘YES’. 

“…Because Evan died?”

‘YES’.

“And…that meant you couldn’t be reborn?”

‘YES’. 

“So…what happened?”

It stayed still. 

I had a very sick, sinking feeling in my stomach at this- I’d gone to Catholic school for 9 years, and I knew suicide is classified as a sin. In the more modern times the Church stopped being awful about it, always prayed for suicide victims and didn’t deny them burials anymore and always told the families the same spiel about being in God’s hands, but…It was still considered a mortal sin none the less. I told the group as much. 

Zoe said in a small voice “Were you…in hell?”

A long pause. ‘YES’. 

Fuck.

“Um…for how long?”

…F…O…R…E…V…E…R.

“That’s why you’re not a guardian angel then? Because you were in hell?”

…D…E…M…O…N.

“How did you…get out to find Ian?”

…L…I…L…I…T…H.

We’d all been on edge with the turn of the conversation, but that. Fuck. I nearly lost it at that. Zoe and the other’s asked who Lilith was, because she’s not common curriculum, but, well, short story answer- She was created before Eve, but she didn’t want to submit to Adam, so she was tortured to give birth to a dead child every day, but other accounts and stories of her do go on to say she became a lead torturer/essentially queen of hell. Fucking. 

Lilith let you out of hell?”

…Y…E…S.

“Why? Like what for?”

…I…D…O…N…O…T…K…N…O…W.

“You don’t….You have no idea why they let you out?”

‘NO’. 

“So you found Ian and became his…Guardian demon? Is that a thing?”

…Y…E…S.

“Does everyone have one?”

…Y…E…S. 

“Do I have an angel or a demon?”

…D…E…M…O…N.

Zoe, even though she’d been talking to a seemingly reasonable demon all night, looked a little worried about that. Back then we had a running joke in our friend group that Zoe was Satan, and well “Um, do I have a demon because of all the jokes I make?”

…Y…E…S.

“Um??? I’m sorry? Fuck.” 

We were all a little #shook but trying not to laugh at the look on her face at that. She went on to check with Kevin that having a demon instead of an angel didn’t actually mean anything bad, she wasn’t in like, undead trouble or anything, the only difference is the demons are usually working off a debt or something versus the angels not…But when Zoe and I were going over this the other day, she did suddenly realize that she hasn’t made a single Satan joke since this night and she’d ‘feel weird if one was made now’. Make of that what you will. 

He said me and the other girls all had Angels (Shoutout to you, Sarah! I’m still kicking at 22!).

Patricia, however, wanted some proof that ‘Helena’ existed and was there for her. Which is reasonable. She asked if her angel wanted to tell her anything. There was a brief pause before the planchette spelled out: …E…R…I…K…I…S…G…O…O…D. 

We were y e l l i n g. Listen, I know that’s clearly not going to be convincing evidence to a bunch of random people reading this, but basically Erik had been dating her best friend at the time and she was just…Very worried about the relationship. Very worried. For many reasons.‘Erik is good’ is exactly the thing she needed to hear from a guardian angel. (And, spoiler alert from two years in the future: he IS good!) But like. She teared up hearing that. It was nice. 

We tried to stray into lighter topics than the whole hell thing, because, again, fuck- I remember thinking to myself at some point ‘this poor guy is after-living the plot to a really great book’- but none of us wanted to upset him again and none of us wanted to get anymore upset ourselves. Liz had already had a panic attack by this point (the hell talk obviously got to her), and she was actively trying not to sob as she asked if she could speak to any passed on family members. We were told pretty much everyone gets reborn and there was no one else around except for Kevin and the other guardians (and good ole’ Death, of course). 

Ian’s got a big birthmark on his face, right? It’s adorable and we often made a lot of jokes about it (fondly), so at some point, while trying to stay on lighter topics, someone asked ‘Did Ian have that birthmark in his past life?‘

…S…C…A…R.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard about that theory that birthmarks have to do with how you died in a past life, but….shook. We all started trying to figure out if we had any meaningful birthmarks. Zoe got further freaked out because she has one on her wrist and one on her temple. What the fuck did she theoretically get up to in a past life?

That was the last really substantial thing he gave us, all the other questions tapered off so we could try to pretend we hadn’t learned we were talking to a demon who went to hell for no seemingly good reason and also no one would be able to talk to dead loved ones. After we finally came to a loss for questions, and people started having to leave- we just did the proper ‘goodbye’ and everything, followed all the rules, put the board away and split up. Liz was still drying her eyes when she left. Ian was mumbling to himself and swearing up and down he didn’t fake all that.  Zoe was frantically researching the information we received and kept repeating that that was the craziest fucking thing that ever happened to her (and she actually did find some thread about guardian demons). We talked about it for a bit before I went home. 

And, it’s like…Again, this could be nothing. But it doesn’t feel like nothing. It feels like a shifted view because…Even if it’s not real, it’s still an outlook on the afterlife that I had never considered before, and it’s…horrifying? This whole night I’ve just never been able to shake, I can’t get it out of my head, because if it is true? Fuck. If it’s true, fuck. The whole drive home I couldn’t help but think ‘ignorance is bliss’. 

It just left me with so many questions, questions I literally don’t think you can get the answers to until it’s too late, and…I don’t know what to do about that. 

It Wasn’t Real (part five)

Summary: You’re part of the infamous Loser’s Club, and often asked, what are you afraid of? You reply, nothing, but what your friends don’t know is that your biggest fear is them.

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - eleven - finale

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently.

Pairing: Loser’s Club x Reader, slight Henry x Reader (you’ll see) Stan x Reader and slight Bill x Reader 

Warnings: force, bullying, depressing and sad tones, this is an AU.

Tag’s List: @chalatea - @darlingimafangirl - @chalatea - @myfriendmagislit -@frozenhealswrites - @fl0werb0nes18 - @emotionallyenterprised - @alec-lighwccd - @bellasett - @starshininginthedark - @tastefulcaring - @impulsivesuperrobin - @newtandthediamonds - @huge-waste-of-time - @jess-sxcks - @theoraekensnotsosecretlover - @moonageharry - @nieligator - @sufferingstilinski - @the-fantastic-fandom-dork - @horsiesandstuff - @arianamichelle04 - @alloffmyships - @darlingimawriter - @gcnnyweasleys - @redvelvet-cupcake - @almusanzug - @d0nt-g0-imagines - @brighter-thanthe-sky - @murphamy-minefeild - @celestesfairy - @fly-like-a-grayson - @emrysaaryn - @holy-minseok - @antiherojason - @multifandom-states - @mysticsthinking - @ladyfairenvale - @crazyinlovewithbatman - @shaniacboogara - @welcometoourcomputershow - @17marvelousfreak - @funtik2011 - @anon-leaning-against-a-trashbin - @terrashrone - @im-fandom-trash - @peachy-vixen - @negansgrimes - @my-fandomful-life
I will no longer be adding anyone!
bolded is who I couldn’t tag.


Originally posted by imultifandomstuff

“You’re- You’re not making any sense.”

You rolled your eyes; taking a step closer to Stan; “i’m making perfect sense.” You replied, shaking your head. You weren’t going to get anything figured out in the middle of the lunch room, you needed to go somewhere else. “What class do you have next?” 

Stan furrowed his brows, obviously confused by your sudden and random question. But nonetheless, he answered; “social. Why?” You don’t know what possessed you, or why you were being so forward. Any other time you’d been near Stan (or any of your ex-friends) you never knew what to say. They rarely acknowledged your presence, and if by chance they did, you found yourself at a loss for words

“Perfect.” Yet, this time it seemed different. Maybe it was the fact that Stan had searched you out, someone who hadn’t even made eye contact with you in three years. And in his own Stanley way, seemed concerned for you; it reminded you of what life use to be like. 

Reaching forward, you grabbed ahold of Stan’s wrist and began tugging him in the direction of the exit. You heard him sputter in confusion but didn’t fight the hand that pulled him. “Where are we going?” He asked, looking around him as you gained a few looks by your abrupt movement. You were lucky Henry decided not to come to school today. “Y/N, class starts in like five minutes!”

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Dreaming of you

Originally posted by darkness-on-me

Loki x reader

Prompt: Soulmate a where you see you each other every night in your dreams

 

Loki smiled and pulled the covers up, settling into his bed. It had been a long hard day and he couldn’t wait to sleep —and it wasn’t just for the bit of escape, peace and rest it afforded him.

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The Virgin and The Sex God Chapter Two- Dean x Reader

The Virgin and The Sex God: Chapter Two
Summary: Dean finds out you’re a virgin and begins to try to charm his way into your pants. Little does he know he’s about to fall in love.
Word Count: 2,100
Warnings: Sexual Content.  Language.



Originally posted by trisgrimes


SERIES MASTERLIST

I’m so addicted to all the things you do
When you’re rollin’ round with me in between the sheets
Oh the sounds you make, with every breath you take
It’s unlike anything, when you’re lovin’ me…
From Addicted by Saving Abel

You groaned as you dragged yourself into your motel room.  The night had been long and hellish.  Not like you had thought it would be.  You thought that you and Dean would sit around trading stories about hunts and chugging beer.  Never ever, would you have thought that he would try to get into your pants.  He hadn’t shown any interest in you at all over the last three years. You blushed as you remembered the last words that he had asked you on the way.

“Do you like me enough?”

You had made a high pitched noise in your throat as your only response.  Dean had outright laughed at you that time.  Like a full on belly laugh. He had to to stop the car in order to get it out.  That was when you had concluded that he was indeed teasing you.

You grunted as your hands went up to rub your temples.  You were starting to get a headache just thinking of that man.  What in the world had gotten into him?  You couldn’t say it was the booze.  He hadn’t really had much to drink by Dean standards.  Maybe you could chalk it up to him trying to get revenge on you for scaring off his piece of tail for the night.  Then there was the other conclusion that you could draw.  Dean was actually attracted to you.

A flash of very unfamiliar emotions flashed through you.  Suddenly it hit you- just how much you liked  Dean.  As in, you wanted to keep him around as your friend.  If anything happened between the two of you then shit would just get weird and complicated.  You didn’t do complicated.  Complicated would only make life harder than it already was.

You glanced at the red numbers on the digital clock side table.  It read eleven and you groaned.  It was still really early- you could never fall asleep before two.  You contemplated watching T.V., but you knew that their would be nothing that would keep your attention.  Too many questions were playing over and over again in your head.

The shuffling sound from next door caught your attention and that was when you remembered something important. Dean was your neighbor.   Not only was he  your neighbor but he had a door that was connected to your room.  You hadn’t thought anything of it when you checked in, but now you wanted your money back.  Plus, you were pretty sure the lock for the door was on his side.  

You let out a very dramatic screech as the thoughts of him just beyond the door made your skin heat up.  You wouldn’t go there.  You couldn’t go there.  This wasn’t going to happen.  You weren’t going to lose your virginity to the sex god and heart breaker called Dean Winchester.  You knew it was just sex, but it was more.  Losing someone else wasn’t something you could handle.

You had lost your dad to hunting and your mother to how you choose to live your life.  She had given you the opportunity to get out, but you had chosen to go back.   Shaking the memories away, you decided to strip out of your grimy clothes.  A hot shower was the best bet at this point.  That always helped you wind down for the night.  Once you were down to just your birthday suit, you padded your way over to the restroom. 

Stepping into the tub, you allowed the hot water to take away the stress of the evening.  Reaching out, you grabbed your shampoo and poured into your palm worked up a good lather.  Once you felt that it was a good enough scrub, you tilted your head back so you didn’t get shampoo in your eyes from the running water.  As your eyes drifted to the ceiling, you let out a scream that would make a banshee jealous.  

A big, hairy, and black nightmare was crawling above your head.  You absolutely hated spiders and this son of bitch had to be the one that crawled straight out of hell.  Losing your footing, you slipped backwards and fell against the cold title.

Gripping the the slick wall in desperation, you stood frozen.   You screamed again as the spider began to crawl towards you.  The bathroom door bursting open caught your attention.  This time you let out a scream for another reason.  Dean stood in the doorway looking flabbergasted.   

His gaze wasn’t on your face.  Realization hit and your arms went up to cover your breast and you  crossed your thighs.  You could only pray that he didn’t get a good show.  Your brain went haywire for a moment when you watched as his eyes roamed over your body.

 The way his jaw clenched made you feel that pesky tingle between your thigh again.  The original reason for your screaming suddenly made itself present.  The eight legged beast was now right beside your head.  Your hands shot up and you pointed wildly at the your living nightmare.  

“Kill it!  KILL IT!!” You cried as you animatedly pointed to the spider.  

Dean’s eyes were now officially glued to your bouncing chest.  His mind had gone completely to the gutter. The images that were running through his head were enough to make his cock twitch to life.  He couldn’t help but imagine you bouncing on top of him.

 Your lips parted as you alternated between little moans and high pitched wails of his name as he started to pound into you.  His hips snapping upwards as he hit you in the sweet spot.  Your slickness flooding to cover his cock as you came hard.  He reached up to grab your hips to hold you in place while he stretched and filled you to your limit.

Back in reality, you had stopped bouncing and calling for him to kill the spider.  Instead you were now screaming at full volume as you perched precariously on the tub edge.  You had decided that the look on Dean’s face wasn’t worth leaving the tub  and the damn spider had now climbed to the bottom.  You were trapped between your two biggest fear-spiders and intimacy.  You were hoping that the shower spray would scare away the damn spider, but the fucker kept crawling.

It finally reached the other side of the tub and began to crawl upwards.  As you watched on in horror, you decided that Dean was the less scary option and scrambled backwards.  A squeak of helplessness escaped your lips when your foot slipped and you fell backwards.  You quickly closed your eyes as you awaited the impact.  The impact that you got wasn’t what you were expecting.  Your back fell into a soft warm embrace as two strong arms gripped you.  Your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself looking into a sea of green.

Dean smiled down at you and shook his head.  You really were too cute for your own good. Scooping your legs from their place on the tub, he picked you up bridal style in order to carry you to the bed.  You were yelling for him to put you down as your legs kicked.  What in the world was even happening?

Dean gently laid you across the bed and stared down at you.  He couldn’t help but drink you in as you lied there.  Your breath was coming in short spurts and he could see the flush washing over you body.  He bit down hard on his lip as a moan threatened to escaped his lips.  You were looking at him like a deer caught in headlights.

Even though you knew you were completely exposed to him- you couldn’t bring yourself to cover yourself.  Instead, your eyes glued to Dean’s jeans.  The outline of his harden cock was pressing against the zipper.  Your eyes widen when it twitched violently under your stare.  Embarrassment ran through you as squealed.  Turning over, you grabbed a pillow to cover your head.  You didn’t even think to about the gift you had just given Dean.  

Dean eyes darken when you gave him a good view of your pretty little pussy.  He groaned loudly when noticed the sheen that leaked out from your inner lips.  Not being able to take it anymore, he was moving towards you.  He bent over you as his hand ghosted over the shape of your hips.

“Fuck Y/N.  You’re fucking perfect.” He groaned as his hands slipped over the mound of your behind.  You instantly shuttered under the touch, but pressed yourself closer to the bed.  You weren’t ready for this.  You would never be ready for this.  

“Dean stop.”  You mumbled into the mattress, but the squealing was soon replacing words.  One of Dean’s long fingers had reached out and gently pressed to your clit.  The pleasure that ran through you from that simple touch made you quake.  You really were a virgin to everything sexual.  You had never even touched yourself.  

Dean’s finger began to trace circles on your hardening bud and you hissed through your teeth.  Was this what you had been missing?  Well slap your ass and call you Sally.

You groaned as the pressure from his finger increased and a wave of fresh pleasure flooded you. Biting your lip, you let out a little moan of his name and Dean nearly lost it.  He just wanted to toss his clothes to the side and pound into you.  For your sake and somewhat for his amusement, he was going to drag this out.  Teasing  you was the most fun he in a long while.  So pushing back his thoughts and readjusting him, he pulled away from you and gave your ass a smack.  You rolled over to glare at him and he smirked down at you.  

“What the hell, Dean?!” You roared as you rubbed your sore butt cheek.   Dean simply gave you a lopsided smile before turning to go back to his room. 

“When you touch yourself make sure you think of me.”  He said with a devilish wink.  A sounding laughing echoing through your room as you let out a scream of pure hatred into your pillow.  




The loud blaring of the alarm on your phone woke you up with a start.  Groaning, you reached over and slapped it.  The sound was grating on your nerves.  Once you had your number one enemy was under control, your thoughts drifted back to yours dreams.  Dirty dreams about one Mr. Dean Winchester.  

You groaned when you realized that Dean was starting to get under your skin.  You had been with him for the last two days because some local hunters had asked for help on another case close to the same area.  Since that nigh at the bar,you hadn’t been able to sleep without dreaming about him.  Not one dream was alike other than they all involved some sort of sexual contact.  

Groaning as you reached up to groggily wipe your hair out of your face.  Your stomach protested at being empty and you decided to see if Dean was awake.  You climbed out of bed and scurried over to the adjoining door and gave it a knock.

“Dean?  Are you up?”  You called out as knocked.  The sound of footsteps from the other side of the door gave you the answered.  

The door opened slowly and your heart jumped in your throat.  Dean stood in all his glory in front of you.  He was clad only in his boxer briefs and his messy hair.  He gave you a groggy smile before yawning. 

“Mornin.”  He said sleepily.  His hand reaching up to rub the sleep from his eyes.

You tried to swallowed but your mouth was completely dry.  Dean gave you another lopsided smile and you blushed.  When the hell did he get so cute?  You bit your lip before asking him if he wanted to get breakfast.  You cursed yourself when your voice broken a little as he  nodded.  He looked almost angelic half-asleep.

He mumbled something about a shower and turned around.  He left the door open and allowed for you to get the whole view.  His well defined back muscles made you almost shiver as they flex from movement.  Finally, as your eyes roamed his body, you came across a gift from God, Dean Winchester’s ass.  

The groan that escaped your lips was beyond your control, but the low chuckle out of his made you stop short.  You watched as he turned back towards you and gave you a wink. Slowly his fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers before he slide them down his muscular thighs.  Your eyes widen in shock as you turned away from him.  A dark chuckle came from behind you before his footsteps indicated that he was walking away.  You glowered as a thought struck you.

The little shit was teasing you again!  A smirk grew on your face as a singular thought ran through your mind.  This meant war.


AN:  So I really need to get some sleep.  LOL  So please forgive the grammar in this one.  I will go over it better tomorrow. I hope you’re enjoying this series as much as I am!  Please note that I am taking the next few days off from writing.  I will be back Monday.

You can read all my work at my MASTERLIST.

Much Love,
Kristina

Tags are under the cut.  Tumblr is being a bitch and turned half of them into a giant link back to one tumblr.  Like I am gonna lose it one of these days and blow up my tumblr.  Hopefully I fixed the tags for those that it did that with! Sorry about that! If you want to be added to the list please send me an ask.  Sometimes tumblr is a cunt and eats my notes.  I might not see your comment.  :)

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