this looked a lot cooler in my head

Stranger // Cody Christian series

Pairing: Cody Christian x reader

Warning!: none

Plot: It’s your first day on set of a new film. You’re the main character and your co-star is Cody Christian. You’re new to the city and he is gladly willing to show you around.

Word Count: 1 004

Age: +14

A/N: Hey! I thought that it’s been awhile since my last series ended so I’m going to do a new one. This is the 1 part of my 6 part series. Hope you’ll like it! xoxo

Part 2


Alarm clock does it’s job and I turn it off. I look at the time. 7:00AM. I roll out of bed and walk straight t my bathroom. I turn on the shower and get in. Hot water going down my spine. I relax and just think.

It’s my first day of work. I’ve always wanted to be an actor, but I never thought that my career would start with a bang. I mean, we all know who John Green is and to shoot a movie that he wrote a script to is amazing. Plus, I get to work with Cody.

I didn’t know him before, but I soon found out, who was playing Jack (my best friend, then my boyfriend) I googled him and I have to admit, he’s cute. I mean he is older than me,but only a couple of years so it doesn’t make that kind of a difference.

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“You’re Spider-Man.” (Peter x Reader)

Summary- You, Ned, and MJ tell Peter you know he’s Spider-Man, in his efforts to prove otherwise, Spider-Man visits you to tell you he isn’t Peter. You decide to have fun with this, and make Peter a little jealous of your feelings for Spider-Man.

A/N- I finally have my laptop working again so can actually write! This is a super light-hearted thing, I enjoyed writing it. Hope you like it! (Send me a request! Ask box is always open!)

Word count- 1680


You watch as Peter looks as if he’s really struggling to figure out how to get out of this study group with you, Ned and MJ. “Uh,” he starts, and you all turn to him, your eye brows risen, questioning him, “I got to go,” you all give a small nod and turn back to your work. He pushes his stuff from the table and into his bag in one smooth motion, he’s got good at that the past few months, practice does make perfect, he does this pretty much every day. “The internship, Mr Stark needs me.”

You nod, continuing with your chemistry questions, “Yep, okay Peter.”

“I’m sorry guys, the internship is just really important you know?” He pulls his bag to his shoulder as he stands up.

“You’re Spider-Man,” you say without looking up at him, you can hear Ned and MJ laugh slightly next to you and you smile. No time quite like the present to let him know you all know his secret. He stumbles back into his seat.

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anonymous asked:

Taemin looks soso small and skinny but his cheeks are still round as ever. he doesn't like that so even when he loses weight they won't go away. it must be so hard for him;; pbs twimg com/media/C4iwWFoUcAEIrPp jpg

Ah… he’s so beautiful. Tbh, these last days I’m thinking a lot about Taemin, about what he feels. I didn’t see any people shocked about what Taemin said about boygroups concerts but there’s so MUCH behind about what he said, but… 

(There it goes my opinion because you got me ready to write in my personal blog about this LOL) I guess we get worried because we can’t forget the fact that Taemin is a human being and that he also has his insecurities and he also finds flaws on himself even when he doesn’t have them - it’s something that we all do. So I feel these days Taemin is trying to search for a more manly image, because he’s tired of being defined as cute, because I also feel he gets the meaning of cute as something femenine. I read someone’s opinion around here and it made me think about how Taemin tries really hard to create a cool and adult image from himself not only to show himself as a great singer and performer, but also to protect himself. Like… after all this time he might feel insecure about his image, because he has been exposed lots of times as “beautiful as a girl” instead of just saying he’s beautiful as the way he is. He has an image in how to be cool on his head, and it looks like he’s too focused on his chin, like you can feel he feels that having a well defined chin makes him cooler, while having cheeks makes him look cute.

The reason I was thinking about posting my thoughts was because of this, because I wish someone could stop Taemin and tell him he doesn’t have to force himself to say or act in the ways he does just to create a forced image of himself. It’s true that there’s still people who believes Taemin is cute (in a childish way) or that he’s beautiful (in a femenine way), but the true is that Taemin is cute (sensitive, adorable, funny, shy) and beautiful (handsome, has very beautiful eyes, and a special and unique mouth, etc.). This is why it hurts me so much to see him feeling so insecure about this, because you can feel how he’s actually a very confident person, but he’s fighting against the stereotypes that still follow him. Taemin has such a special beauty and personality, but he’s too focused on being manly to the eyes of everybody, for what manliness means to the public, when there’s no need to do that. It’s really hard to understand because he has been since really young - as the rest of SHINee members - exposed to the media playing a paper that wasn’t his. And I don’t know, lately it’s like he’s going again to search to create a different image just to make people forget about that old image.

Same happened with Jonghyun: he was like the cool, badass and sexy voice of SHINee but he’s a lovely piece of sunshine with a big heart and a big open mind, and some people still don’t want to accept his real self because they go like “ah, I miss the muscles of Jonghyun” like they were something that actually belong to him as a person, you know? Also Onew is not the type of leader who will go to the others and say to them how to act, he’s just a sweet person who just loves his members a lot and just loves to play with them; Key is an incredible person which such a great mind and creativity, members just enjoy playing with him because he’s such a funny and random person, and Minho is not that flaming charisma but also a cutie pie full of love and passion for life.

Ah… I’m so sorry for this long post, lmao. But I wish I could hug him and have at least 10 minutes to talk to him to tell him that he’s just purely beautiful outside and inside. Many people might believe Taemin is rude or cold, but he has such a big heart full of sensitivity and sweetness, I feel he keeps looking for an image to protect himself. Like, “bah, I don’t want to go to boygroups concerts”; he’s himself a die hard stan of Bi Rain, but he’s not the type to expose his feelings that easily. Also, this obsession toward his face… At the end he’s a normal human being full of flaws, fears, dreams… but I wish so hard to tell him that everything is ok… that he doesn’t have to try to follow the rules of genders to look cool. He’s so cool the way he REALLY is.

anonymous asked:

hi love! are you still going to write the biker bucky fic? i saw a video you posted and tagged talking about it and i was !!! so i thought i'd ask. thank you xxx

Hi babe! I still very much am going to write the moosepocalypse fic, I have like 1.5K of it written and dabble on it now and then. :D It’s slow work because my attention span is almost as short as Bucky’s patience w/ Steve’s shit, and I have like three other fics in the works as well, but it will come! Someday! Meanwhile, have another snippet:


107 looks up. He looks even prettier up close, even (or especially, Steve’s mind supplies unhelpfully) with his cheeks flushed with the exercise and sweat beading on his forehead. He does look a little crazy, though.

“Huh,” 107 says, looks down Steve’s body, then up again. “I know we just met, but your dick looks like it’s getting strangled.”

Sam makes a warbling sound somewhere behind Steve. Steve looks down at his dick, suddenly very, very self-conscious, and yeah. 107 kinda has a point. Steve’s never gonna wear anything but black bike shorts again. The red spandex definitely isn’t working for anybody with a penis.

“Uh,” Steve says, smooth as always. “Can I take you to the first aid?”

“You look like the American flag,” 107 replies, looking a little concussed but regarding Steve’s suit critically. “We’re gonna clash, and my flag is cooler. But okay.”

Steve pulls 107’s legs gently from the wreckage of the bicycle, mindful of the sprained ankle, and then very carefully scoops the man up into a bridal carry; bisexual flag shirt and all. 107 promptly burrows closer and lays his sweaty head against Steve’s shoulder, and suddenly everything feels a lot more intimate than it was supposed to.

Steve desperately tries to think about the moose.

6

monday, june 26, 2017

today’s outfit: docs, gray cords, this shirt i have had for almost 7 years now, ever since i impulsively switched clothes with a traveling punk girl i met in a parking lot. she was passing through town with a guy i’d sort of partied with this one time about two months prior to that (i honestly hadn’t expected to ever see him again). i don’t remember why we switched clothes, but we did, and i quickly lost or gave away or wore through everything except for the shirt, which is amazing considering i wear it pretty often in cooler weather and it’s clearly not what you would call an expensive top-tier garment. looks good on me, though! thanks, parking lot punk girl 

oh, and also? NEW HAIRCUT!! first haircut since i got my head shaved in 2013, in fact! hell yes

today’s song: “okkervil river song” by okkervil river. ‘nother one that i associate really strongly with summer. especially some of those summers around the time i acquired this shirt.

and the water slipped on slowly past our bodies in the weeds
pulling plastic wrap and razors on its current through the reeds
then I woke up one cold morning, felt an absence at my back
and I searched and stared but only the river stared back

She Should Be
  • **221B Baker Street. Sherlock and Archie are sitting on the couch, with his laptop on the coffee table in front of them. Rosie is dozing in her Moses basket next to Sherlock.**
  • Archie: *browses through crime scene photos* Is Dr Hooper coming over?
  • Sherlock: *on his phone* Yes. *glances at Archie with a smile* Molly's promised to bring a heart after work. We're experimenting on it once your parents pick you up.
  • Archie: *nods* My mum watches this show called 'Murdoch Mysteries'. It's about Detective Murdoch, who's like you if you were a Canadian copper in the old-timey era.
  • Sherlock: What kind of 'old-timey' era? Regency? Victorian? Edwardian?
  • Archie: Victorian, I think.
  • Sherlock: *types on his phone* What about this Murdoch character?
  • Archie: He uses new, scientific methods to solve murders, just like on 'CSI'. But his methods are only called that cos they're in the Victorian era and his boss prefers old-school ways of solving murders.
  • Sherlock: *puts his phone down next to his laptop* What does that have to do with Molly coming over later?
  • Archie: Detective Murdoch has a girlfriend. She looks at the corpses at crime scenes and works on them at the morgue to find out what killed them and stuff. They get along great as friends. She supports him all the time, and he trusts her skills and knowledge. She helps him out a lot too. Dr Ogden's like Dr Hooper. That's why she's your girlfriend!
  • Sherlock: *stares at Archie* Molly isn't my girlfriend!
  • Archie: *turns to Sherlock* She's not?! *stares at the photo of a severed head* *frowns* Oh. *glances at Sherlock and shrugs* She should be.
  • Molly: *walks in carrying a small cooler* Hello, boys! *looks sheepish when Rosie starts to fuss* Whoops! *goes over to the basket to pick up the crying baby* Sorry, Rosie!
  • Sherlock: *stands up* *takes the cooler from Molly* She'll need feeding soon, so I'll go warm her bottle.
  • Sherlock & Molly: *work together to change Rosie's nappies, feed her, and put her back to sleep*
  • Archie: *opens folder of more gruesome photos* *mumbles to himself* Yep, she's his girlfriend.
  • **Later, after the Watsons and Archie's parents pick up the kids.**
  • Sherlock: *gathers Molly in his arms and kisses her*
  • Molly: *kisses him back after a moment* *gives him a shocked look when they come up for air* Wh-what was that for?!
  • Sherlock: *smirks* Archie helped me realise something.
  • Molly: Realise what?
  • Sherlock: That you should be my girlfriend. Or wife, if you pref––Mmmmmmmph!
  • Molly: *snogs the daylights out of him*
6

Aw man, this was a tricky one both to airbrush AND photograph.

@roterwolkenvogel got herself a Resinsoul Sui body with custom red transparent claws. The color was a lightish, gummy bear rosy red and I underestimated how tricky airbrushing that would be!

I first sprayed some Mr. Crystal Color Ruby Red on top of the parts for some red shimmer, afterwards I sprayed yellow onto the scales.
The claws look like they were completely covered, but I actually just added some red here and there for some depth.
But since the parts are transparent paint applied on one side is visible on the other side too, and if I airbrush both sides they add each other visually.
On top of the yellow scales I added some iridiscent gold.
The whole thing was first sealed flat, than glossy, to get back some of the transparent look. I added extra varnish and gloss on the nails.
They look a lot cooler in real, but my camera had a lot of trouble with all that red :’D
The hands are just a dark red to red gradient with some iridiscent gold on the tips.

The body is for Vogel’s Cumberbatch head, who is super tiny but also really cool. Added a pic of him at the bottom because I actually wanted to show the hands in action…oh well.
Head wasn’t painted by me!

Resinsoul Sui parts, owned by Roterwolkenvogel
Customization, photos and editing by me

6

@zzythiir  Submission: 

Can I get a rating on this team? Mega Mawile is my lead-off sweeper backed up by Kommo-o and Minior. Porygon2 and Roserade add some bulk to the team before rounding it out with Mismagius.

My Recommendations:

It looks like a lot of fun! Gengar could probably do Mismagius’s job better, but Mismagius is way cooler so it’s whatever you would prefer. I would replace Porygon2 with a Celesteela or Tapu Fini but Porygon would still work. I would also try to replace Iron Head on Mawile with Thunder Punch or Fire Fang. That’s going to involve breeding though and that’s a lot of work. Like I said the team looks like a lot of fun!

anonymous asked:

Scenario where Jungkook save you from getting rape.

Real Life Hero

“Sweetheart, will you run down to the drugstore and pick your brother up some medicine,” your mother asked, worry etched across her worn face, as she placed a loving hand over your younger brothers forehead, brushing the dark locks of hair up to gauge the temperature.

Sighing, you nodded as you grabbed the money from the counter and stuffed it in one jean pocket, zipping your jacket up over your t-shirt, “Sure, children’s Tylenol and cough syrup?”

Nodding, she smiled warily at you, “Be careful, it is awfully late, but…,” wordlessly she glanced at your brother with concern as he coughed hard into one small fist.

“It’s fine mom, I will be right back,” looking over your shoulder as you opened the front door and stepped over the threshold, added, “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Stepping out into the cold, brisk air you made your way quickly down the block to the small corner store, waving and greeting the man at the counter politely as you entered. You bee-lined it for the medicinal aisle for children’s cold and flu, picking up boxes and reading their labels. Suddenly, a man in a black hoodie and dark jeans came down the aisle, and there was something about him that sent an involuntary and unpleasant shiver down your spine.

His face was mostly covered by the hood of his sweatshirt, leaving you to only see a large scar down one side of his face, and dark ominous eyes set deeply in his skull, only adding to the already large shadows formed under his eyes. Large, masculine hands grabbed for a bottle of cough syrup, and as he read the labels, you took the opportunity to sneak off to the next aisle down to grab some juice. As you made your way to the handle of one of the glass refrigerator doors, someone else’s hand was already there underneath your palm, making you jump back.

“Sorry!” you exclaimed, pulling your hand back to your body, spinning and facing the person behind you embarrassedly.

Gasping you noticed a black hoodie, and immediately felt your heart palpitate in your chest at the thought that it might be the man from the last aisle. However, you noticed this one was wearing a pair of black gym shorts and a pair of white basketball socks with the words: “fuck you pay me”, on them. Sighing in relief, you peered into the hood of his jacket, trying to make out his face to gauge his age noticing immediately that his features appeared to be young, and unscarred.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he chuckled, a light tinge of blush coloring his cheeks; the hand you had previously grasped now scratching the back of his head inside the hood nervously.

Blushing your own shade of pink, you shook your head hastily, “It’s alright, I should have been the one paying more attention,” looking into those kind dark eyes you felt a tug at your heart strings, the uncomfortable feeling from before in the medicinal aisle gone, “I’m _______, by the way, just a typical daydreaming teenage girl with her head in the clouds, apparently.”

He smiled at that, a cute eruption of giggling escaping those full lips, holding out his hand to you, “Jungkook, your typical one track minded teenage boy.”

You snorted, “I think maybe that is more of general male trait, as opposed to an age specific one—wait….you’re…Jungkook….of….BTS?”

 Realization hit you all at once, and you felt like slapping yourself for not noticing before, but once you did you had to keep yourself from screaming and fangirling in such a way that would have scared and alerted half the neighborhood.

Nodding his head, he pressed a finger to his lips and signaled you to keep it down and flashed a smile at you, “So, what are you doing here so late? Don’t you have class or something in the morning?”

Snapping back to your senses and speaking quieter than before, pushing that fan girl within you to the side, “Yes, I do, but I had to come and pick up some medicine for my little brother,” you held up the boxes of medicine to emphasize, “He’s got the flu, and my mom was too worried to leave him alone with me, so here I am.”

Jungkook smiled warmly and shook his head looking at you with a slight eye roll at memories of his own mother, “Moms, they worry so much,” then, “You’re a really good daughter for understanding and going though.”

You shrugged, “It’s nothing; I have to help my mom with a lot around the house and with my younger brother. I am used to it.”

He smiled largely, and opened the glass door of the cooler you had both forgotten about, “Here, take him some juice. I’m sure he could use the vitamin c,” he handed you a bottle of orange juice, his long fingers brushing over yours.

A shiver ran down your spine for the second time that evening, only this time it was pleasant and left you feeling warm all over.

“Thank you,” feeling another blush creep up onto your cheeks, you added quickly, “I should probably get going, don’t want to keep my mom waiting”

A flash of disappointment flooded his dark eyes—or maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you—but was quickly overridden, as he nodded, sending dark strands of hair over his forehead, “Right, you should get back before she worries too much.”

No one moved though. Your feet seemed to rebel against your head, keeping you locked in place, standing there in front of the “golden maknae”. You didn’t want the moment to be over, you just wanted to keep drinking in the image of his smile and the sound of his voice.

But, your tongue was traitorous, “Yeah, I need to get this to my brother so he can get some actual rest, good bye,” turning on your heel, you took one last glance over your shoulder at the idol, “It was nice to meet you.”

You made your way down the rest of the aisle, and then as you turned to proceed toward the counter, you felt someone fall into step with you, “I could walk you,” it was Jungkook, looking sheepish, adding out of politeness, “If you’d like.”

A broad smile spread across your face, “I’d like that.”

Placing your things on the counter, you pulled out your mom’s money and placed it there, but pale hands beat you to the punch and paid for the items before you had the chance. Looking up at him, you shook your head trying to press your mother’s money into his palm, but he simply stuffed it back into your own.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all. Keep your money,” he flashed those pearly whites your way in the form of a boyish grin, and grabbed the grocery bag off the counter as the two of you thanked the cashier and made your way into the cool air of the night.

Keeping in stride with his long legs proved to be quite difficult, leaving you short of breath as you walked down the street together. Glancing over at you, he noticed that you were panting, and slowed his steps down to an easier pace for you.

“Thank you,” you blurted as you stole another glance his way, hoping that he wouldn’t notice.

Cocking his head to the side so that he resembled an adorable puppy, he asked, “For what?”

You held up the grocery bag and then gestured to the two of you,” For the medicine and juice, and for walking me. It was really sweet, but it wasn’t necessary.”

Jungkook simply smiled, and shrugged his shoulders, “It was nothing.”

But, it was everything to you. Who would have guessed that you would have met Jungkook of BTS at midnight buying your brother some medicine? And that, to top it all off, he would be walking you home like this? Lady luck seemed to be smiling down upon you, until you suddenly realized you had forgotten to buy the cough syrup, and had only gotten the Tylenol.

Smacking your forehead, you stopped your trek home and grabbed Jungkook’s sleeve to stop him. His dark stare found yours, a raised eyebrow prompting you to speak.

“I forgot the cough syrup…the creepy guy scared me out of the aisle and—.”

“Creepy guy?”

You waved that part off, no longer concerned about ‘scar face’, “Just some scary looking man with a scarred face, but the point is that I have to go back. Crap, I’m such a ditz,” you sighed, noticing that you were over halfway home, “And we were so close to my house.”

Jungkook chuckled, handing you the plastic bag, “Here, take this and go home and I’ll go back and grab the cough syrup and meet you there, ok?”

You shook your head vehemently, “No, you have already shown me more kindness than I deserve form you this evening.”

A cold wind picked up suddenly, and blew a chill right through your jacket straight to your very core, leaving you shivering and clattering your teeth. Looking concerned, he shook his head back at you, grasping your hands in his and rubbing them together to create warmth, “No, there is no such thing as too much kindness, especially when you’re doing something for someone you like.”

You felt warm—really warm—like you were ablaze with a fire that an entire ocean could not devoid. Perhaps, it was his hands covering yours, and holding on a bit longer than necessary; or maybe, it was the sentiment that he so sweetly spoke, but the most likely cause was the truth you saw in the eyes that bore into yours when he spoke them. All you could do was stare, and then make the smallest movement with your head that you were ok with his plan. Grinning down at you, he took his hands from yours and asked, “So, what’s your address? Or should I just guess?”

Smacking yourself internally for not offering it before, you laughed lightly, “It’s 1813 East Woodland. We live in the apartments on the corner, 3rd floor, flat number 5.”

“Alright, I know which one’s you’re talking about,” he nods, “I’ll be just a few minutes. Now, go home and get warm before you freeze to death.”

Smiling warmly, you began walking down the street glancing back every few steps to watch his retreating form. Sighing contentedly as you turn towards your street, walking past a dank alleyway, suddenly a pair of icy hands hit you on the head, knocking you into a stupor that left you helpless. Covering your mouth, your screams are muffled as you are drug unwillingly into the alleyway.  

Slamming you into the hardness of one of the building walls, foreign lips were attacking yours, trying to coax your own into a kiss. Strong, calloused fingers were binding your wrists painfully, scraping them harshly against the brick of the wall behind you in the abandoned alleyway. The form of a much larger figure than your own was caging you easily to the spot where you stood; the grocery bag spilled and forgotten at your feet.

It was pitch black outside, nearly midnight, perhaps even later, and the passerby of people were far and few between and thought you to be lovers—how very wrong they were. You struggled against the onslaught of unwanted kisses and touches. Trying your hardest to kick, bite and scream, but your attacker was brutal and had no qualms with hitting you and biting back; if anything, it seemed that he enjoyed your fight.

 Still, you continued to try to break free, and then you saw it the raised skin of a scar on the man’s eye. Gasping, you remembered the man from the drugstore before your encounter with Jungkook—wait, Jungkook was making his way back to you! That was your escape, you needed to somehow make enough noise to alert him.

You felt a cold hand ghost its way underneath you jacket and shirt, leaving you panicked as you squirmed and tried your luck with biting him again. Still, your assailant pursued unphased and your screams died inside his own mouth that continued to attack yours with aggressive kisses.

It crossed your mind that Jungkook wouldn’t find you in time, or at all, and you felt your heart speed to a new pace, fear bubbling inside you. No…this can’t happen. I have to break free… Then you felt your shirt and jacket being ripped from you and dropped at your feet, the cool air licking your skin unpleasantly, leaving you vulnerable there in the darkness of the night. A stream of tears stained your cheeks as you tried your best to cover yourself, but strong arms kept them back. From there your dignity was stripped the rest of the way with your bra and pants lying in the pool of clothing at your feet.

Please, save me…anyone….

You realized you were powerless in this situation, and that the thought of someone saving you was the only fleeting chance you had—and even that was slim. Your muffled screams were not loud enough to alert those already in bed or prowling the streets. Your body was beginning to collapse against the heaviness of this revelation of your fate, when suddenly your attacker was being ripped from you and shoved to the ground, a voice familiar to you growling, “_______, run! NOW!”

You grabbed up your clothes and ran down the alleyway without hesitation, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Pulling your clothes on quickly, you try to compose yourself so that you aren’t naked as you run down the street. Dialing 911, you make a report through tears as you make it safely to your building, running straight to your apartment.

“What took you so long, you had me—,” your mom stopped short at the sight of your disheveled form, running into her arms, you sobbed and apologized for the lack of medicine for your brother.

Her hands smoothed your hair, as she murmured over and over again that everything would be alright, but as you explained what happened anger burst from within her. Tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing in with your own, and that’s when a knock at the door startled the two of you.

“It’s ok, it’s probably the cops,” still, she walked very hesitantly to the door and when she asked who it was, a boys voice sailed through, ringing in your ears.

“It’s Jungkook,” you said, placing a hand on your mom’s trembling shoulder, “It’s ok, he’s a friend.”

Opening the door, you saw him standing there his hood down revealing his face completely and the blood, scratches, and purple bruise forming over his left eye. Your tears welled in your eyes at the sight of him holding a ripped grocery bag, tears shining there in his eyes too reflecting your own. Without a word, he simply stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you safely to his chest.

“I’m so sorry, _____. I wish I had gotten there sooner. This is all my fault, I never should have left your side.”

Shaking your head, you nuzzled into his chest, breathing slower, “It’s not your fault, don’t blame yourself.”

Stepping into the apartment, you led Jungkook in behind you introducing him to your mom and handing her the bag of medicine. Smiling through her tears, she thanked him and as another knock resounded, she opened it and spoke with the police telling them about the incident, speaking in hushed voices at the kitchen table so as not to wake your brother, who was lying on the couch.

Jungkook guided you to your room, sitting with you on your bed, stroking your hair softly as your adrenaline dissipated and sleep beckoned you towards unconsciousness. Trying to keep your eyes opened and focused, for fear of seeing the man with scar on his face in your nightmares, you struggled against yourself.

Jungkook looked down at you, holding your hand in one of his, “It’s ok to sleep, I’ll be right here until your mom kicks me out.”

You let a smile ghost your lips, and squeezed his hand gently, “You don’t have to stay, it’s ok. I’ll be ok now. Really, go ahead and go. Thank you, Jungkook.”

Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on your palm, “No, I am not leaving you again. You’re stuck with me now. Get used to it.”

Smiling that smile that had won your heart from the very beginning, you felt your eyes drift close as Jungkook laid beside you, wrapping a protective arm around you. Superheroes might not exist outside of comic books, but you had found a real life hero: your hero.

 __________________________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed it, and that I did an alright job!

~Admin R

OK so this is v shitty but this is Enigma’s suit (somewhat, it looked a lot cooler in my head) when she joins the X-men, since, in the end, they all had their own thing going on in regards to suits.


oh wow i love the blue on this

Training Wheels

Characters: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 2,410

Genre: Fluff

Note: I might have spent more time on this than I should have, but here’s my first Taehyung scenario! About time too, since he’s my bias and all. Hope you enjoy!


It was a nice sunny day in Seoul and the temperature had warmed up considerably. It was nearing midday when you were sitting alone at home, staring half-heartedly at the way the sunlight trickled into your room through the exposed window. The weather seemed too perfect for you to be spending the day indoors, which is exactly why Taehyung showed up at your doorstep half an hour prior, without any warning whatsoever, to take you out on a spontaneous date. He was wearing his cherished canary yellow cap you had gotten him for his birthday and his signature boxy smile that made you forget about all your other plans for the rest of the day. Needless to say, you quickly grabbed your belongings and were out the door in the blink of an eye.

That’s how you found yourself in front of the scenic background of the Han River. From the moment you left your apartment up until you had gotten off at the bus stop near Hangang Park, Taehyung had your hand tightly interlaced with his, swinging your arms childishly from time to time as you two walked. Even now, as you strolled along the paved pathway beside the edge of the river, he never let go of your hand.

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Twisted fairy tales: Aurora, dawn of a new age

Aurora signed up for the Sleep Personality Improvement and Developing Longevity Existence (SPINDLE) cryogenics program when she was 16 in 2018. Sleeping for years had seemed perfect back then; her parents were dead, the world was falling to shit, and the smoggy atmosphere made it difficult to breathe without costly oxygen masks. Plus she’d be given a set of active mind programs that meant learning cool shit without actually needing to do anything. It had seemed too good to be true when the technicians promised she’d only be woken when the world had repaired itself.

A hundred years later, Aurora saw for herself that the world had done exactly that. Instead of waking to buildings and freeways (and at least one flying car; seriously it was 2018 and there wasn’t a single flying car?!), Aurora woke to forests and streams, no flying cars in sight. It wasn’t all bad, though. While she’d slept, SPINDLE had kept her body free from disease and, as promised, her mind active. She missed the bubonic plague of 2025 (the result of anti-vaxxers who’d preferred that their child died rather than care for a child with mental disabilities; if they were going down, so was the rest of the world), and narrowly avoided a nuclear war thanks to the eradication of politicians in 2020.

As for the programs SPINDLE had added in her brain, well, Aurora didn’t really know what to do with all of the new information. She’d initially chosen only a few programs that seemed interesting, but since she’d slept for so long, the technicians had decided to just keep adding new programs when her brain waves stopped fluctuating for more than a few days. Now her mind was overflowing with information and she could barely keep up, her mind desperately trying to process the information while she was awake. She had to work through a series of exercises to improve her muscle tone - cryogenics could only do so much, after all - and while Aurora instinctively knew all of the moves, her body didn’t. Her trainer within the SPINDLE organisation was a man named Charming who was anything but charming. Aurora found that training with Charming was a bitch, mostly because she always seemed to end up flat on her back. Besides, Charming only ever called her sleeping beauty, which wasn’t as cutesy as it sounded when coming out of his sarcastic mouth.

You know how to do this, it’s all there in your pretty little head, sleeping beauty. Now stop thinking and do it already!

She usually went to bed sore and aching, and wishing she’d spent another hundred years sleeping just to avoid Charming.

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The Best Night

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Words: 2,589

A/N: Part five to the Raindrops series! This one doesn’t really have a plot as much as the next part will – it’s sort of a buildup. And once again, without Fem, I would never have been able to write this! She deals with my lack of grammar skills and procrastination like a pro. Oh, and don’t forget to let me know if you’d like a part six!

~~~

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE - PART FOUR

Even breaths sent chills down your neck. Dean’s nose was pressed against your ear, his lips grazed your jaw.

Your body felt heavy, as if you woke up with a foot of snow holding your back flush against Dean’s chest. Some part of you had been craving comfort like this for ages, another told you to stand up and avoid an awkward confrontation.

A door slammed somewhere in the distance. You remained still in Dean’s embrace just as he woke up.

He sighed heavily and opened his eyes. You shut your own, quickly. His hand slid down your arm and you felt him move underneath you. Carefully, he placed your head onto a pillow and lifted the blanket up and over your shoulders.

It was then you decided to pretend to wake up.

“Mm.” You hummed, slowly beginning to stretch.

“Hey.” You whispered, eyes staring up at Dean’s back.

He turned around with one hand in his hair, “Hey.”

His voice was thick with sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He said, clearing his throat.

“You didn’t. I think I heard something.” You sat up, clutching the blanket around your waist.

“It’s probably Sammy.” Dean began walking out from the room. “I’ll go check on him.”

You stood up and wrapped the blanket around yourself until it resembled the robes of an ancient sorcerer. Without Dean to guide you, you wandered around the halls in search of your room.

“I’m not that bad at directions.” You whispered to yourself. You turned another corner, only to find metal numbers that read 72.

“Almost.” You whispered and kept walking.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice made you jump.

You spun around. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?” He asked before looking you up and down. “And why do you look like a burrito?”

“I’m trying to find my room.” You continued walking, “And a burrito? Really?”

You heard him laugh softly to himself. “What’s wrong with a burrito?”

“I thought I look a lot cooler. Like a sorcerer or something.”

He shook his head with a smile.

“You’re going the wrong way. Come on.” He motioned for you to follow him.

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself and tried keeping up with his strides. After what seemed like an eternity, you reached your room.

“Thanks.” You opened the door and stepped inside.

_ _ _ _ _

“Where’s Y/N?” Sam asked the back of his brothers head. Dean was pouring oil into a pan.

“In her room.” Dean grabbed a ladle and began pouring pancake batter to form small circles.

Sam turned a page in the newspaper, “Are those chocolate chips?”

“Huh?”

“In the batter.”

“Yeah. So?” Dean raised a brow at his little brother.

“Nothing.”

Dean flipped a pancake onto a plate.

“Did you end up calling Garth?”

“No, actually. It was a pretty clean case.” Sam took a sip of his orange juice. “Did you end up asking Y/N out?”

Dean’s spatula froze mid air.

“What did you just say?”

“I gave you the perfect chance!” Sam exclaimed, a smile fighting its way onto his face.

“Chance?” Dean looked at his brother, careful not to be too loud.

“Whatever.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Just eat your damn pancakes.” Dean said gruffly as he slid his brother a plateful.

“Did I hear someone say pancakes?” You practically skipped down the steps. You took the seat next to Sam.

“Hey.” He greeted, then dragged the bottle of orange juice across the countertop. “Want some?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You watched him pour it, “Are those chocolate chip?” You eyed his plate curiously.

“Yeah, Dean made them just for y-”

“Here!” Dean exclaimed, throwing a hard glare in his brother’s direction.

Pancakes were stacked high with practically a mountain of whipped cream on top. While you busied yourself with the cream and berries, Dean walked around the kitchen and kicked his brother’s stool. Sam gripped the edge of the counter.

“Real mature, Dean.” Sam said.

“What?” You looked up, mouth full of food. Both Sam and Dean rolled their eyes, seemingly at each other.

“You guys have got to stop doing that.” You stabbed a chocolate chip with your fork.

“Doing what?” They said in unison.

You stood up to grab a napkin, “That.”

While wiping the corners of your mouth you continued, “You guys always talk to each other without even talking!” You exclaimed.

Dean looked at Sam.

“See!” You pointed out.

Both men furrowed their brows at you.

You shook your head and continued eating.

“Anyways,” Sam spun back around on his stool, “I think I found a case.”

Mid-chew, you turned to him while squinting your eyes. “We just finished one.”

“She’s right, Sammy.” Dean pressed a palm against the counter, leaning his weight onto one arm. “And you just took one yesterday.”

You nodded and scooped up some whipped cream.

“I think it’s a shifter, Dean.” Sam pressed.

“Hey, look-” You shoved a forkful of whipped cream into your mouth, “I can call a hunter friend of mine. He’ll gladly take the case.”

“Who is he?” Dean asked.

“A friend of mine, don’t worry. I trust the guy.” You wiped the corner of your mouth.

“We’ll handle it.” Dean said.

“Huh?” Sam turned to his brother. “Y/N just offered us a break.”

“Come on, Sammy. She doesn’t need to call in any favors with her friend. We’ll handle it.” Dean assured Sam.

Sam shrugged and looked at you.

“I’m in.” You said.

Dean walked around the side of the table and shoved a finger in your pile of whipped cream before licking it clean and walking up the stairs.

“Now it’s ruined.” You sighed.

Sam just laughed and folded the newspaper back up neatly.

_ _ _ _ _

“Haven’t seen a shifter in years.” Dean said from the driver’s seat. “Remember the one with the baby?”

“Baby?” You asked.

Sam nodded, “We took care of a shifter baby.”

You nearly laughed. “A shifter baby?”

“It changed every five seconds!” Dean said.

You poked around a bag of gummy bears, smiling. Outside the car the sun was just beginning to set. Streaks of orange and yellow painted the sky. You shoved your hand into your pocket and pulled out your phone. After unlocking it, you squeezed the bag of gummy bears between your thighs and held the phone horizontally, aiming its camera towards the front window. The shutter sounded.

“Get my good side.” Dean joked.

“I didn’t know you had one.” You watched Dean roll his eyes through the rear-view mirror.

Sam smirked before saying, “Anyways, we should be there in a couple minutes.” He pointed left and Dean took the turn.

You gathered your hair up into a ponytail, allowing some strands to fall loose.

“Where are we supposed to find the shifter?” You asked, popping a yellow bear into your mouth.

“According to one of the witnesses,” Sam passed back a newspaper clipping with a photo of a middle aged woman. She was frowning. “Her husband took the car to the forest and never came back.”

“So, maybe the dude’s on a vacation.” Dean said.

“That’s what I thought also, but then she said that her husband’s car was still gone when she saw him in their bedroom.” Sam said.

“Wait, but then how did she survive? Wouldn’t the shifter kill her?” You asked. Dean agreed by turning to Sam and raising his brows.

“Apparently, she realized he was acting strange and when he tried to grab her, she hit him with a lamp and ran out the back door.” Sam said. “When police found her, she was hysterical. She told them a man with silver eyes was chasing her.”

Dean’s mouth formed an ‘O’.

“Definitely our kind of thing.” He added, steering the car into a motel parking lot.

You lifted up your duffel from the floor of the backseat. A candy wrapper clung to it.

“Sweet tooth?” You asked Dean, holding the wrapper in one hand. He took it from you and crumpled it up, tossing it into the rusted trashcan outside the entrance.

Sam already went inside and you watched him go back and forth with the manager.

“Sir, there are three of us. Do you see how that’s an issue?” Sam stared at the man. Dean walked up behind his brother. He eyed the manager curiously.

“I understand that, but we only have one room available!” He exclaimed.

“Okay, look-” Dean began. You placed a hand on his arm.

“Louis?” You looked at the manager’s name tag. He nodded and gave you a smile. “Louis, we need two rooms.”

“Ma’am, as I just said-”

“I see three keys on the board behind you.” You pointed and he turned to look.

“Those two,” he motioned to the top rack of keys, “are reserved for our regulars.”

“If one of your regulars shows up, I’ll clear the room. Promise.” You said. The brothers looked at you.

Reluctantly, Louis unhooked a key and pressed it into your palm. Dean slid a wad of cash towards the man who immediately counted it.

“All you gotta do is be nice.” You said, walking in between Sam and Dean.

“I was being nice.” Sam said while eyeing the numbers on the doors.

“Whatever you say.” You found room 24 and shoved the key into the lock.

“Twenty minutes?” Dean said while stepping into his room.

“Sounds good.” You answered.

When the lock finally gave in, you took a look around the room. “Not bad.” You whispered. For the first time in nearly a year, there were no stains on the carpet. The kitchen was clean, and there was a television across from the bed which you dropped your duffel bag onto.

You entered the bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. The bruises on your wrists were nearly completely gone. While on the toilet, you looked over your ankle. You hadn’t peeled off the bandages that Dean wrapped last night.

_ _ _ _ _

“You still got some of that sandwich?” Dean poked around Sam’s bag.

“Dude.” Sam smacked his brother’s hand away, “I already ate half of it.”

“So?” Dean scrunched up his face. Sam rolled his eyes and pulled out a paper bag, shoving it at Dean’s chest.

Dean sat down at the small table. The chair legs were uneven, and he rocked from side to side as he ate.

“Sammy.” Dean looked up towards his brother.

“Yeah?” Sam said without turning around. He continued to search for something on his phone.

“Do you think,” He placed the sandwich down, “that Y/N would stay in the bunker?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I asked. Would she?”

Sam put down the phone and crossed his arms, a wide smile plastered on his face.

“I knew you liked her!”

“Do not.” Dean stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

“Do too.” The brothers bickered as if they were teenagers again. “I saw her all wrapped up in your blanket this morning.”

“I didn’t screw her, Sam.” Dean walked over to the trash can, tossing his napkin into it. “We just…slept together.”

The younger Winchester sat on the bed, “So, nothing happened at all?”

“No. I just held her.” Dean said.

Sam stared at him.

“And it was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

Sam nodded, and without another word he walked into the bathroom.

_ _ _ _ _

The drive down to the forest was shorter than you had expected. Within less than thirty minutes, you stood in front of the tallest trees you had ever seen. Darkness settled between each branch. You weren’t able to see more than a couple yards ahead of yourself. You felt something cool touch the back of your hand.

“You’re going to need this.” Dean handed you a silver blade.

“I got bullets.”

“This is backup.” He said and began to trudge into the forest.

With each footstep, leaves crunched beneath your boots. Sam turned his flashlight on and shone it in front of you. He motioned to continue going straight.

Somewhere to your left, a branch snapped.

“Did you hear that?” You whispered to Dean.

He placed an arm in front of your chest and you stopped. Sam aimed his flashlight in that direction.

“I’ll go check it out.” He said and Dean nodded.

“What if he left?” You asked a couple minutes later.

“Who?”

“The shifter, dummy.”

“He didn’t. They always come back to where they live.” Dean said and stopped walking. “Did you hear that?” He asked.

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’.

“Listen.” He whispered so low you hardly heard. Then again, you heard the same movement you had earlier. Instinctively you gripped his arm.

“Stay here.” He said and you slowly released your grip. “Don’t move.” Dean’s eyes locked with yours. You cocked your gun.

Dean hadn’t walked ten steps ahead before a shadow pounced on him.

“Dean!” You shouted and ran over. You heard him grunt as he punched at the shapeshifter.

You had never seen one so powerful. Each punch sent Dean sliding into the grass.

You pulled the trigger two times, only aiming at its legs.

“Dean, move!” You shouted, but Dean continued throwing punches. When you shot for the third time, the bullet hit bone.

The shifter ran in the other direction, limping.

“Nice moves, Rocky.” You looked at Dean whose chest was heaving. He smiled, his teeth visible in the dark.

“We should find Sam.” Dean said and you agreed. “The shifter might already look like me.”

“Two Deans?” You smiled, “Too much sass.”

“I’m not sassy.”

You continued walking alongside him. The forest seemed to get larger and larger, encapsulating you.

“Did we leave a trail?” You asked suddenly.

“We’ll figure it out.” He said.

“Good plan.” You said sarcastically.

“Oh, I’m the one with sass?” Dean joked.

You stopped short.

“What?” Dean turned around.

“Sh.” You heard a rustling behind you. Dean immediately raised his gun.

“There!” You saw movement. The shifter stepped out from behind a tree.

“Oh my god.” You said once you saw it.

“It’s not the first time.” Dean said, looking at himself.

You stepped closer to shifter Dean. It ran up to you in a blur and grabbed your neck.

You raised your knee and hit it in the stomach. It loosened its grip.

“Y/N!” Dean shouted. The shifter ran around you and stood by Dean.

You tried to tell them apart by the guns. Dean’s was silver, you knew that; but it was too dark to see.

“Y/N.” One of them said.

“Dean.” You whispered, eyes flicking between the two.

“It’s me.” The one on the left said.

“Prove it.” You nearly begged.

“You like chocolate chip waffles!”

You exhaled relief.

“Your socks have cats on them.” The other one said and immediately you froze.

“Y/N, test me.” The one on the right said. “Come here and test me.”

You walked over and pulled the blade out from your jacket. Immediately, the other Dean grabbed your arm and spun you around, holding a gun against your temple.

“Move and I’ll shoot her.” Dean’s voice said. Hot tears built up in your eyes.

“Let her go.” Dean was lowering his weapon.

“Can’t do that.” He said and immediately you were being dragged, inhumanly fast.

“Let her go!” Dean’s voice bounced off the trees and towards you. Dean’s knees turned to jello. He pressed his palm against a tree trunk to keep himself up.

“Fuck.” He whispered before shouting. “Fuck!”

(want a part 6?)

Being best friends with Michael would include:

- waiting for him at the arrival terminal when he comes up behind you and covers your eyes with his sweater paws, whispering ‘boobs’ into your ear
- him posting a picture of the two of you flipping each other off on Instagram captioned ‘she thinks I’m a dick’
- ‘shit, you’re getting dye everywhere’
- ‘well I’m sorry that we’re in a fucking moving bus, Michael, not to mention this bathroom is tiny!’
- impromptu rap battles
- smacking his shoulder when he brags to the boys that he’ll be getting some, when he obviously won’t be
- watching him hum softly as he plays the guitar when he thinks everyone else is asleep
- ‘fuck you, Mario kart is the best!’
- 'don’t make me kick you out of my tour bus’
- soft smiles
- hiding Luke’s phone and blaming it on you when Luke angrily looks for it
- 'no Michael I don’t want to see who can eat the most pizza’
- yelling excitedly in interviews when they ask about you visiting him
- 'Michael, stop touching my boobs’
- 'it was an ACCIDENT…. Haha no it wasn’t’
- pushing you out of the bunk when you were sleeping as a prank
- 'I could’ve fucking gotten hurt, you dickhead, I could have died!’
- 'stop exaggerating, y/n’
- swearing at Calum for suggesting to do it when you refuse to speak to him
- announcing to the crowd that you’re in the crowd and making a huge speech for you and begging for your forgiveness before dedicating 'Wrapped Around Your Finger’ to you
- a sweaty hug after the show
- 'you’re such a cock’
- 'speaking of my cock’ earning a smack to the back of the head
- looking at pictures of kittens online
- stealing his jumpers
- 'I’m cooler than Luke, right?’
- blaring to his music so loud that you can’t hear yourselves singing along
- him making fun of your laugh when he makes a joke
- 'no don’t stop laughing… I love your laugh’
- planning out what his next hair colors should be
- swearing a lot
- falling asleep in his lap when as he plays video games
- talking about social issues
- 'I can’t believe you had to deal with assholes like that. Guys are fucking disgusting!’
- 'if I got a cat, could I name it Balls?’
- sleepy Michael slowly blinking when you climb out of your shared bunk
- 'where are you going?’
- him making up things to do instead of packing your bags
- 'can we do anything other than you packing?’
- 'quite whining, Michael’
- him softly squeezing your hand as you walk through the fans and paparazzi at the airport
- trying to joke about not missing you but you can see in his eyes that he means the opposite
- 'dammit, y/n, I’m gonna miss you so much’ pulling you into a wholehearted, bone crushing hug
- 'fucking paparazzi, can’t they leave us alone?’
- yelling your name excitedly to get your attention as you walk away from security before waving and grinning like a little kid
- seeing that he changed his name in your phone to 'Mi-cool’ when he texts you goodbye
- 'Michael it’s been 5 minutes… Yes I miss you too… Yeah I’ll call when I land… Yes I think you’re punk rock… Ok I miss you too.. Bye Mi–Ok Michael.. Goodbye Michael… YES I FUCKING MISS YOU TOO, MICHAEL! GOODBYE!’
- posting a derpy picture of Michael on Twitter, telling him to wash his clothes without you reminding him
- Calum texting you to tell you that Michael really misses you
- Skype calls with cuddly Michael huddled in his bunk, with a stubbly beard and a blanket over his shoulders
- 'I don’t care if you’re horny I’m not taking my shirt off!’
- rolling your eyes when he gives you a tired smile
- 'I miss you a lot, Mikey’
- 'I miss you too even though you only love me for my mad gaming skills’ a scoff coming from one of the boys in the background
- 'don’t make me hang up on you, Michael Clifford’

[calum] [luke] [ashton]