too much movement for color and yeah black and white it is

dangerous waters (m) | pkjm

fratboy!jimin smut
a sleazy fratboy thinks he could get any girl he wants, until he meets you
word count: 2774
genre: smut SMUT!! SMUT!! S MU T 
warning: sleazy jimin, dom!jimin, explicit language, oral

[a/n]: you’ve been warned!!! this is mature content read at own risk !! this is my FIRST smut EVER !! i apologize in advance if its super bad and super cringe like i have no idea wtf i was doing, i just wrote and props to ppl who write smut bc that shit is hard 

Originally posted by 9taefox


You had a huge biochemistry lab the next morning, a calculus test right after, and a literature lecture after bunch. Instead of studying for your classes and sleeping early, you were at some random fraternity party that your friend, Hoseok, dragged you to.

Parties weren’t ever really your scene. You were, a lack for a better term, a goody two shoes. You enjoyed staying in and reading. Cafes, libraries, and parks were your favorite places. You were an overall excellent student, almost top of the class with outstanding remarks. You studied whenever you had the chance to, it was the only way you were able to keep up with classes.

You weren’t completely cookie cutter though. Occasionally, you went to parties when workload was minimal and you didn’t despise frats/sororities. Some of your friends were in sororities and you usually went to their parties, not anyone you were unfamiliar with.

However, Hoseok begged you to join him at the campus’ most popular fraternity’s party. That specific frat had the cutest, hottest boys. They maintained the highest number of hook ups in one night and parties in one week. You avoided them at all cost because even though they were attractive, they were all assholes. 

Their parties were usually majority guys and a sprinkle of girls. You were extremely hesitant, but Hoseok wouldn’t stop messing up your lecture notes until you gave in.

“Geez, Hoseok. There are literally no girls here.” You whispered as you made your way to the kitchen. His laugh was barely audible over the heavy music they were playing. 

“They’re probably all upstairs..” He paused and pointed to the closed rooms. “In the rooms.” 

“That’s so gross.” You rolled your eyes and poured yourself a drink. Their fruit punch was spiked and you almost puked at the first sip. “This is gross.”

“Your tongue becomes numb after a few more sips.” Hoseok’s head darted towards the door. A small group of girls from the sorority down the street had entered. “Enjoy yourself, (Y/N).” He smirked before heading towards them.

“Hoseok—” It was too late. You lost your only friend to the crowd. Glancing around, you noticed that people were either drinking, smoking, or dancing. You weren’t really into any of that. You were regretting your decision of showing up.

Keep reading

Where The Wild Roses Grow

Summary: When Jughead becomes an active member of the Southside Serpents, him and Betty are starting to grow further and further apart, as the boiling volcano of Riverdale’s Civil War is threatening to erupt in full force. Can a heart to heart with Alice Cooper and an old Serpent jacket give Betty and Jughead the hope they both need?


(This is huge so grab snacks and drinks. The Bughead scene ruined me. I apologize for all of this. Warning: full angst and sin ahead! I’m not describing it as much anymore cause after the Jughead I saw in the finale that’s a given but still, after I post this, I’ll crawl under my covers in blushing embarassment.😂 Here you go, lovelies! I hope you enjoy this! ❤️)


“On the second day he came with a single red rose

He said, "Give me your loss and your sorrow?”

I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed

“If I show you the roses will you follow?”

The snow is slowly melting under the heaps of rain and so is her will to contribute to life these days. The icy scenery that adorns Riverdale gives out under the rays of sun that stubbornly peek through the pine trees and white oaks, ridding their leaves from the coldness of nature, only to become shiny droplets of clear water that hold the whole kaleidoscope of colors, just like tears and their colossal scale of emotions. He is the ice, she is the stubborn sun; that’s what he tells her through the sad darkness of each night that they lay together but further and further apart. He says it as a compliment, in the most sullen John Wheelwright fashion, but she accepts it gladly as her fingers form infinity signs over the crackling ice of his golden heart. Her hair is golden too under the dim moonlight, it’s a match made in heaven, and she vows that tomorrow she will try to burn hotter than the December sun over the patches of snow that are menacingly trying to turn him into a lifeless statue. And she does. But not today.

Keep reading

The Story Of A Girl Who Has A Crush On A Cute Cashier

“It’s okay, you can do this, talk to her. She’s just a girl. Just a gal. Like you. There’s nothing weird about this. She’s human, you’re human. Everything should be fine.” I whispered to myself until I noticed what I was doing and stopped. I approached the front desk and looked at the cute cashier.

I only gave her a glance but it was enough to see what I wanted to see. I saw her beautiful neon blue hair, her adorable freckles and her pink eyes. I saw the little chub to her cheeks and I saw the smirk on her face as she played a game on her phone while waiting for customers. I saw enough to know I was in love.

“Hello.” I said, and my voice cracked. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. I put down my things on the counter and remained quiet.

Keep reading

Grim Reaper Girlfriend

I did a trade with @asketchbookthing and one of her requests was a skeletal grim reaper type, so I decided to make a skeletal girlfriend. I had so much fun writing this one. 

   For the last few weeks, you’ve been coming to the park and sitting on the same bench, watching people and sometimes throwing bread for the birds. You’ve been doing this because it was what your grandfather always did. He would come, sit, watch, throw. This was his seat for the last few months of his life and you want to see that part for just a little bit before your life moves you along.

   Although, you aren’t alone on the bench. Not long after you started sitting there someone else started to come and sit beside you. They’re tall and shadowed, their body draped all in black and face hidden by a large hood. At first, you didn’t talk to them, it seemed a bit too macabre a situation. It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone and you could hear Rod Serling whispering a monologue in your ear.

Keep reading

d.w.

Title: d.w.

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5489

Warnings: Swearing, Nudity, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Blood

Summary: Under the hold of a ruthless djinn, Reader finds herself in her perfect world with a strangely perfect man she’d never seen before.

Next Part: Part Two

A/N: This is loosely based off 02x20 – What Is and What Should Never Be. Enjoy!

Originally posted by black-little-demons

Reader

It was quiet, so very quiet, and bright. It’s never been this bright in any of the dingy motels you and your sister found yourselves bunking in. But, then again, this wasn’t some crappy motel. No, based on the sheer white curtains that framed the clean windows, and the tidiness of the gleaming hardwood floors, you quickly concluded that this wasn’t anything you were familiar with.

A white fur rug peeked out in the corner of your vision before your eyes landed on the matching white night table near your head. Slowly, you propped yourself up on your elbow, but found it rather hard due to a tight hold around your waist. You looked down, confused, to find your bare torso being held by a large, strong hand.

You gulped, trying to remember who the hell this was. And though his name didn’t surface, you remembered hunting something – the djinn. You let out a shaky sigh, recalling its tattooed hands over your face.

Could this perhaps be your wishful reality?

Slowly, you lifted the blanket, thinking, please don’t be-

Yup – you were fully naked, wrapped in the strong hold of some strange man. You slowly twisted in his grip, careful not to wake the owner up as you stretched your neck to meet the reason behind your nudity.

Your eyes first caught the sharpness of his jaw and you already found yourself trying to recall the steamy night before. You followed the well-defined line, mentally admitting defeat against your memories. You gazed over his high cheekbones, stubbed chin, pouty lips, and perfectly sloped nose. You finally landed on his closed eyes, wondering what color they were. Blue? Brown? Grey? Whatever they were, you were sure they’d be just as beautiful as the rest of him.

He suddenly shifted from his side to his back, removing his warm hand from your body. The movement caused the comforter to slide down, exposing his defined chest. And though it was just as godly as the rest of him, the little inking on his left collarbone is what really captivated your attention. There, scribed in an elegant cursive, were your initials.

Your breath hitched as you quickly jumped out of bed and took several steps away from him. He stirred at the sudden movement, but didn’t think much of it.

As he sunk back into sleep, you stared at him, eyes wide, and you swallowed your fear. You glanced to the ajar door before your eyes caught your reflection. The black scribble on your collarbone was only so visible in the distance, so you rushed towards the hanging mirror.

d.w.

Your fingers brushed over it as confusion set in. What the fuck was this? Matching tattoos?

Breathing heavily, you quickly and quietly got dressed. You looked through the drawers, running into his clothes every now and then. Finally, you were fully dressed in jeans and a cropped black tank top under a tight and sheer white long sleeved shirt. You grabbed your phone, and long black combat boots before leaving the room.

Immediately, you dialed your sister’s number. “(Y/N)?” her tired voice rang.

“(Y/S/N)!” you exclaimed, before realizing the man was still sleeping and lowered your voice. “Hey, where are you?”

You heard her chuckle lightly. “We’re about to board our flight. Are you okay?” she replied, a slight hint of concern laced in her words.

You made your way down the stairs and sat at the steps once you reached the end. “Board your flight?” you repeated as you pulled on your boots. “Where’s the djinn?”

“Gin?” she asked, chuckling. “Are you drunk? It’s not even nine yet.”

You huffed as you tied your laces. “No, idiot. The djinn. The fucked-up creature we’re hunting. Look, I think it changed my reality somehow. Like, it made a wish come true or something.”

“Okay… where’s Dean?” she questioned.

You looked back up the stairs, finding them empty. “Dean?” you repeated. “That’s the name of the hot guy I woke up beside?”

She laughed. “I gotta go, just put the bottle down, okay? I’ll see you at Dad’s.”

You froze. “Dad’s? Wait, (Y/S/N/N).” But the line went dead.

Did you just hear her right or was the reception just bad? You didn’t have time to sit around and brew in your fast thoughts. You hurriedly shot up and began searching for your keys. You scoured the living room before making your way to the end table next to the door. A stack of envelops caught your eye.

Dean Winchester. The first one read.

You shuffled through them, finding your name or rather a variation of it. (Y/N) Winchester. Holy shit, that hot piece of ass was your husband. You looked back to the stairs, making sure he wasn’t up yet. Turning back to the letters, the next couple of lines captured your attention. It was addressed to your hometown.  

Suddenly, the same soft hands, that were clutching you in bed, snaked around your waist and you felt your back against his hard chest. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. His scruffy cheeks tickled your skin, but it didn’t last long as he looked back up. You followed his gaze to find a mirror hanging up on the wall and your reflection staring back at you.

Green. His eyes were green, and it suddenly put jumping his bones into perspective. “You’re up early.” he smiled, tightening his grip on you.

You melted into him, loving the way his body felt against yours. “Yeah, I, uh, had a bad dream.” you replied, placing your hands over his.  

He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Well, then why don’t we go back upstairs and I’ll help you feel better.” he suggested with a little wink.

It seemed as though obtaining oxygen was abruptly hard as you found it increasingly tougher to breathe. You were about to nod until you felt a hard pressure against your hip. You glance down and found he was just as naked at the bottom as he was at the top.

Your head snapped up and you felt your cheeks flush. “Wow,” you breathed before you could stop yourself.

He chuckled, a little blush creeping onto his face. You couldn’t decide what was cuter, his laugh or his pink cheeks. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think it was the first time you’ve seen it.”

Your heart pounded against your chest as he pulled you closer to him. He leaned in, gently attaching his lips to yours. They were just as soft as they looked. “Um,” you breathed, pulling away. “Why don’t you go up and I’ll meet you there.”

He smirked, giving you one last peck. “Don’t be too long.” he almost begged, making your knee weak.

You gulped, nodding. “Mmhm.” you hummed, watching him walk away. Even his ass is hot.  You found yourself thinking.

When he finally disappeared back upstairs, you glanced back at the letters in your hand. It pained you so much to say this, but you had to get to the bottom of this. Placing the envelops back in their spots, you grabbed the keys to your car and your black leather jacket that laid next to it.

You opened the door, looking back to the stairs. “Once I found out if this is real, I’m so going to see you naked again.” you quietly promised him and yourself as you left the house and got into your car.

You drove down the familiar streets of your hometown. The melting snow framed the roads and covered most of the neighbourhood, including a light blue house. Your childhood home, the one that was unfortunately invaded by werewolves. You let out a shaky breath as you parked the car, and made your way to the door. Your hands shook as you found the courage to knock.

Heavy footsteps grew closer and closer until the door flew open. “(Y/N)?” your father asked, a smile surfacing his confused face.

Tears glassed over your eyes as you threw your arms around him. “Dad,” you respired, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Though bemused, your father wrapped his arms around you. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” he worriedly asked, pulling away from the hug and shutting the door.

“You’re real,” you whispered, ignoring his questions. Laughing, you dried your tears and looked around the house. “It’s all real.”

Your father placed a caring hand on your shoulder and escorted you to the living room. “Honey, are you feel okay?” he asked again, his bushy brows furrowed.

You smiled, looking around the room, your eyes landing on a bookshelf scattered with frames. “I’m great,” you smiled, taking in the family photos. You found on with your sister in a cap and gown. And another with the family on a trip somewhere sunny and sandy.

Your father stared at you. “Okay,” he said, not quite convinced. “Well, aren’t you a bit early?” he asked. “Your sister and Josh don’t get in until later.”

“Josh?” you asked, looking back at your father.

He slowly nodded. “Her boyfriend.” he clarified, an obvious tone in his voice.

You nodded. “Oh, right. Yeah, Josh. Great guy.”

He nodded along with you. “Dean just called. He was looking for you. Is everything alright between you two?” he crossed his arms over his chest, watching you carefully.

You blushed, recalling the exposed interaction. “Oh, yeah.” you chuckled, looking back at the pictures. Your heart soared at the new reality you were granted.

“Okay, well I got to go to work.” he said, his voice suddenly distant. You turned around to find him at the door, pulling on his shoes. “And I’m sure you have to do the same.”

You walked over to him, nodding. “Yeah, yeah. I better get going too. But, I wanna see mom before I go.”

He looked down at you, like you were crazy. “(Y/N),” he said slowly. “You know your mom is… dead, right?”

You froze, gulping down the urge to scream. “Oh,” you whispered. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just, um, you know miss her.”

You quickly crashed into his chest again, throwing your arms around him.

He returned the hug, about to let go, but you held on tighter. “I really missed you, Dad.” you muttered against his shoulder, trying to blink back tears.

He rubbed your back, then pulled away. “I’ll see you tonight, honey.” he assured, flashing you a sad smile.

You returned the grin, then exited the house and made your way to your car. You looked back at him as you unlocked the car. “Love you!” you called as he locked the door.

He waved back at you. “Love you too!” he replied.

You smiled widely and got into your car. Could this really be happening? You thought as you drove off. You had to make sure this was real and not some sort of joke. Maybe the djinn did grant your wish, though you never really said it out loud.

You knew where you had to go to make sure this was real, this was your new life. And since you knew this town like the back of your hand, you speedily drove to the nearest community college located a couple of hours away and found the cryptozoology professor.

“I don’t remember seeing you in any of my classes,” he said as you took a seat across his desk.

You gave him a convince smile. “I sit in the very back and try to keep to myself. I just really love hearing what you have to say.” you effortlessly lied, interlocking your hands together.

He returned your friendly smile, asking, “So, what can I do for you?”

You shifted in your sit. “Djinn, can they really grant wishes and stuff even if you don’t say them out loud?” you questioned.

The professor nodded. “That’s how the legend goes,” he confirmed, eyeing you carefully. “But, of course, its all just a myth.” he stated in a clear, stern voice.

You nodded. “Oh, yeah.” you agreed. “Yes, it’s just a myth. Thank you for your time.” And with that, you exited the room.

You smiled, realizing this was your life now. The hot husband, your dad well and alive. And though your mother was gone, you couldn’t be more content with what you were given.

You got to your car, about to get in, when you noticed a little girl in a clean night gown. Her blonde hair blew in the wind as others walked passed her. You furrowed your eyebrows, making your way towards her. An abrupt weight crashed against you, stumbling you back.

“Watch where you’re going,” some girl spat.

You ignored her, turning back to the little girl only to find her gone. Just when you thought your life was perfect, a sprite decided to haunt you.  Perhaps it was all in your head, and the hunter in you just couldn’t wrap around the fact that this was your life now. Either way, you were going to ignore it.

You drove back to your house as the moon began to take the sun’s place. You entered to find Dean standing in front of that mirror again. He was wearing a clean-cut suit and was messing around with the neck of his tie.

Damn, he looked even hotter with clothes on. You thought as you bit your lip at the sight.

His eyes landed on you once you shut the door. “Hey, where have you been? I called you like a million times.” he said, dropping the knot and walking towards you. He placed a quick kiss on your lips.

You put a hand on his shoulders, pulling him back in as you remembered your promise earlier that morning. You bit his lip, causing him to gasp, and slipped your tongue into his mouth. He pulled back after a minute, breathless and smirking. “What was that for?” he whispered, erupting your heart.

“For leaving without a proper goodbye this morning.” you replied, your hands trailing down his chest, pushing the suit jacket off his shoulders.

He laughed, taking a step back. “Babe, we can’t now. Your dad’s waiting for us and you’re not even dressed yet.” he protested, readjusting his jacket.

“Waiting for us? Where are we going?” you asked, as he went back to fiddling with his tie.

He shot you a confused look. “Your dad’s birthday.” he replied, then let out a frustrated huff.

You pulled your hands away from his tie, and redid it yourself. “Right. Yeah, I’ll go get ready right now.” you reassured, finishing up the knot and dashing upstairs.

He looked back into the mirror, astonished by your quick work. “Don’t take so long!” he called after you.

You rushed into the bedroom and found a short, black dress already laid on the bed. You walked towards it, feeling the velvety fabric. You smiled swiftly throwing it on and brushing through your hair with your fingers. You slipped into some matching heels and grabbed that same leather jacket.

Hurrying downstairs, you found him leaning against the door, staring at the ceiling. He’s so hot. You thought once again, biting your lip.

He’s beautiful green eyes shot to you as a cocky smirk itched on his face. “You’re looking hot too, baby.” he complimented, making his way over to you.

Shit, did I just say that out loud?

“If it wasn’t for the fact that your family is probably pissed at us for being so late, I’d take you right here, right now.” his voice went deep with lust as he snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you towards the door.

You leaned into him, slightly pressing your thighs together at his words. “Stop fucking teasing,” you whispered as he shut the door and led you to his sleek black car. “This car is beautiful.” you gasped while Dean opened the passenger door for you.

“Yeah.” he agreed proudly, shutting the door behind you.

You felt the leather seats, taking in the husky scent of cologne and whiskey. He got in and started the car, the engine giving out a throaty purr. You melted into the seats, thoughts of what you two could do on them made you cross your legs tightly.

Dean didn’t let it go unnoticed, flashing you one of his famous smirks as he drove down the street. “Want me that bad, huh?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You laughed at the adorable sight, understanding more and more why it was him. “I get it now. I get why you’re the one.”

He shot you a quick glance before turning back to the road. “Took you three years?” he joked, pulling into the parking lot.

You swatted his arm playfully. “Shut up,” you muttered, getting out of the car. “You know what I mean.”

He laughed, taking your hand and leading you to the door. “I love you.” he whispered in your ear as your father, sister and the man – you assumed was her boyfriend – came to view.

You looked up at him, shocked to hear those words. “Finally!” your sister huffed, standing up to greet you.

You turned back to her, a wide smile taking over your features. “(Y/S/N),” you laughed, pulling her into a tight hug. “You look great!” you said as she pulled back.

She looked down at her flowy pink dress. “Oh, thanks,” her smile wavered. “You too.”

The man beside her cleared his throat, looking at you. “Josh,” you smiled, turning to him and also pulling him into a tight hug.

He hesitantly hugged you back. “Good to see you too, (Y/N).” he said, pulling away.

You turned to your dad, giving yet another hug. “Dad!” you exclaimed, a little too loudly. A few people near you began staring.

Your dad pulled away after a few seconds. “It’s like you haven’t seen me in years, much less this morning.” he joked.

You forced a little laugh, taking your seat between Dean and your sister. “Happy Birthday.”

He smiled, giving you a little nod. “Thank you, sweetie.” He turned back to your sister. “So, what’s this exciting news?”

You shot your head to her as she blushed and brought her left hand up. “We’re getting married.” she laughed, gazing loving at her fiancé.

Dean laughed, giving Josh a pat on the back while your father wiped a tear from his eye.

You, on the other hand, screamed and grabbed her arm closer to you. “Oh, my god!” you cried, examining the ring. “(Y/S/N/N), this is amazing.”

You looked up to find her staring at you like you’ve grown three heads. And that’s when you realized the entire restaurant silenced. You nervously chuckled. “My sister’s getting married,” you explained as the diners began nodded and clapping for her.

In the corner of your eye, you caught Dean biting his lip to hold back his laughter. You nudged his arm, muttering, “Shut up,” and turned back to your sister.

“I’m suddenly feeling very old.” your father joked and the entire table laughed.

Dinner went by quick, and you were slowly getting the hang of things. It was like you really did belong here.

Back at your father’s house, you, Dean, your sister, and Josh stood at the foyer as your father turned in upstairs.

“Well, it’s getting late.” your sister sighed, looking up to Josh. “We should get some sleep too.”

Your smile dropped. “Wait, the night’s still young. Let’s go celebrate.” you suggested.

She gave you a confused look. “Guys, do you mind giving me a moment alone with my sister?” she asked, keeping her eyes on you.

A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead before your husband and your soon to be brother-in-law left the room.

“(Y/N), are you feeling okay?” she asked.

You nodded. “I’m great, (Y/S/N/N).”

She scoffed. “Stop calling me that. Where did you even get that name?”

“I always call you that.” you drily chuckled.

She shook her head. “No, you don’t. Listen, we don’t talk to each other unless we have to.”

The light in your eyes slightly died and you took a step back. “We… we don’t? But, you’re my sister.”

“Yeah, that statement didn’t really apply all those years you ruined my relationships.” she humorlessly chuckled.

Your heart broke at her words. “(Y/S/N), I’m so sorry.” you breathed.

She shrugged. “No, I’m over it. This is just how things are. Look, you show go home and get some sleep. This has clearly been a really big day for you.”

You nodded, forcing a small smile. You watched as she turned around and made her way upstairs with Josh trailing behind her.

Tears picked your eyes at her words. Were you really that cruel to her? Ruining her life? Caring hands found yours and you looked up to find your handsome husband with a sad smile. “You okay?”

You let out a dry chuckle. “Everyone keeps asking me that.”

He nodded, pulling you to the door. “Come on, let’s go home.”

He led you to the car and opened the passenger door for you again. You were about to get in, when you noticed a figure under one of the streetlights. It was the little, blonde girl. However, this time, her nightgown was torn and bloody.

You pushed passed Dean, and made your way to her. “(Y/N)!” Dean called as a loud horn honked to your right.

The tires screeched and you snapped your head towards it. A car, a few itches away from you, stopped with an angry driver cursing at you. Dean pulled you back and out of the way as he apologized to the driver.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded as the car drove away.

You looked back at the light to find the girl gone. Sighing, you looked back to your worried husband. “Sorry, I thought I saw something.”

“We’re going home.” he breathed, holding you under his arm.  

He made sure you got in this time before starting the car and driving away. The moment you got home, you slumped down on the couch and tried to wrap your head around the fact that your sister, the one you thought would die for you, doesn’t speak to you anymore.

“Baby, you coming to bed?” Dean asked, taking a seat beside you.

You looked up at him to find him only in his boxers. You trailed your hand down his chest, cursing the unlucky moments that he just happens to be shirtless in. “I really fucking want to,” you groaned. “But, I just can’t, knowing my sister barely speaks to me.”

He knitted his brows together. “I didn’t think that really bothered too much. It’s kinda how it’s always been.” he shrugged.

You rubbed his bare shoulder, loving the feel of his skin. Your eyes landed on the little tattoo again. “I’m going to fix it.” you vowed.

He smiled. “I’m here if you need any help.”

You leaned in, not able to resist him any longer. He responded, trailing his hand up your thigh and under your dress. “Why don’t we take this upstairs?” he smirked, brushing his fingers over your lace panties.

You moaned against his jawline, nodded. “Yes,”

Your eye suddenly caught the headline in the newspaper on the coffee table. Fire burns down hotel. “I just need to grab something,” you whispered as he kissed and sucked on your neck. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”

He pulled away, eyes narrowed. “Are you actually coming up this time?”  

You nodded, flashing him a smile. “Yes.”

He nodded and hurried upstairs. “I’ll be waiting.” he called over his shoulder as you reached for the paper.

You skimmed through it. “All victims’ dead.” you whispered. “But, I saved them.”

You looked up, trying to make sense of the news, when she appeared again. She stood in front of you with two skeletons hanging by their hands behind her. You kneeled before her. “Hey, are you okay? Do you need help?” you whispered.

The image was suddenly gone and you looked around for any proof that it was there to begin with. Why was this sprite and your hunting life following you around? Maybe you needed to get rid of the djinn to full live in this new life.

You shot up and rushed to the door, grabbing your keys on the way out. Quickly, you got into your car and drove back to your father’s place. You tried to be very quiet as you creeped in and rummaged through your mother’s silverware.

Finally, you found it, but the sound of tiny footsteps made you stop in place. Slowly turning around, you found your sister inching towards you with a bat. Easily, you disarmed her and brought her to her back.

“(Y/N)?” she asked, pushing you off her.

You got up to your feet and helped her to hers. “You should be embarrassed by how easy that was.” you joked as she flicked on the light.

“What are you-” she cut herself off, noticing the box of cutlery beside you. “Are you stealing mom’s sliver?” she questioned.

You glanced down at the box. “Yeah, I, uh, owe someone money.” you lied, grabbed two knives.

She furrowed her brows, scanning you up and down, noticing you were still in your dress. “I can’t believe this. Did you even go home? Does Dean know?”

“Does it look like Dean knows?” you hissed back. “Look, I have to go. Just tell dad I love him.” And with that, you pushed passed her and got back into your car.

As you started the engine, the passenger door opened and your sister got in. “Get out,” you ordered, as she shut the door and pushed aside the duffle bag you found in the trunk.

“No, I’m coming with you.” she said, pulling on her seatbelt. She was still dressed in her sweatpants and t-shirt.

You stared at her and scoffed. “It’s dangerous.”

“Which is why I’m coming with you.” she replied. “Whatever stupid thing you’re doing, you’re not doing it alone.”

You sighed and waited for her to change her mind. However, she was still so stubborn and stayed glued to her seat. You rolled your eyes and started the engine, driving down the road and into the highway.

“How far is this place?” she asked.

“A few hours.”

She snapped her head towards you. “I have school.”

You glanced at her before turning back to the road. “Oh, yeah. Medicine, I bet.”

She nodded. “Yeah, you knew that.”

“You’re the one that forced yourself in here. Don’t blame me.” you shrugged.

She rolled her eyes, mumbling, “Whatever.”

Hours passed and you finally arrived at the same old warehouse that you hunted the djinn in. “Where the hell are we?” your sister asked.

“Lawrence, Kansas.” you answered, parking the car. You grabbed the duffle bag and the two knives before getting out of the car and making your way over to the entrance.

“What’s in the bag?” she questioned, quickly following behind you.

You pulled out a flashlight and clicked it on. “Lamb’s blood, and a few guns.” You decided it was far passed lying at this point if she’s going to come in with you and hunt this son of a bitch.

“Why the-”

You cut her off. You had no time for her questions. “I have to dip the silver in it to kill the djinn. It’s the monster we were hunting before it changed my reality. Now, stay quiet and keep behind me at all times.” you ordered as you led her through the same hallway you walked through the first time.

You reached an opened room, spotting the same two skeletons hanging by their hands. Your sister let out a disgusted sigh at the sight. “Shh.” you shushed her, noticing the little girl.

She, too, was tied up with a blood bag attached to her. You gulped, the sound of footsteps pulling you away from the girl. Quickly, you grabbed your sister and scurried behind some barrels.

The djinn made his way to the girl as she whimpered and begged for him to leave her alone. He stroked her cheek, whispering for her to go back to sleep. After she passed out, he pulled the tube connected to the blood bag and let the blood drip into his mouth. And once he had his taste, he returned the tube to its spot and left the room.

You emerged from your hiding place, making you way to the girl. You couldn’t remember much after the djinn attacked you. “What if I’m like her?” you wondered aloud.

Your sister tugged on your arm, pulling back to the exit. “Come on, let’s go.” she demanded.

You tore your arm away, the fog finally clearing up. “You’re not real.” you replied, holding the knife up.

“What?” she asked, outraged. She grabbed your shoulders and shook you. “You feel that? That’s real.”

You pulled away. “No!” you yelled. “I read somewhere that you can’t die in your dreams.” You said as you held up the knife and pointed it to your gut. “I’m like ninety percent sure this is a dream.”

“No.” she said, shaking her head. You ignored, bring the knife down to your stomach. “NO!” she yelled, making you freeze.

Your father suddenly began walking towards you dressed in the same clothes he was murdered in. You looked to your sister, the image of Dean creeping up behind her. To your left, Josh came to view as well. They surrounded you, watching you.

“You couldn’t leave it alone, could you, babe?” Dean asked, the disappoint rich in his voice.

“You were happy.” your father smiled.

Your tears began streaming down your face. “This isn’t happiness.” you whispered, chocking back sobs.

Dean made his way to you, pulling you into a sweet, desperate kiss. “Yes, it is. I’m here. I love you.” he begged.

You pulled back, taking a few steps away. You looked between all four of them, and gulped. “I’m sorry,” you said as you pieced the knife through your stomach, the blood bubbling up through your mouth.

“HEY!” a deep, familiar voice called, two hands holding your face.

Your hands suddenly fell and you tumbled onto the figure in front of you. The owner caught you with ease as another figure to your left emerged. It was all so blurry and dark. You wanted to open your mouth and ask where you were, or who this was, but you found it extremely hard.

“(Y/N),” you heard your sister whisper, trying to meet your gaze. You looked to her as someone came up behind her.

“Is she okay?” he asked.

The person holding you readjusted your weight on him, and pick up with one hand under your knees and the other on your back. “She will be.” he reassured. “Did you kill it?”

“Yeah, it’s dead.” your sister replied, as the guy behind her untie the little girl.

Your vision blurred as you fell in and out of consciousness until it all went black.

Your eyes opened to the feeling of a cool, damp cloth over your forehead. You slowly sat up, slightly wincing in pain. You looked down to your throbbing arm to find it sewn with stitches. Your eyes took in the unfamiliar room painted with dull colors.

“You okay?” the deep voice asked from your right.

You snapped your head to find him sitting on a chair near your bed. The same sharp jawline, stubbed chin, pouty lips and high cheekbones engulfed his features. And those gorgeous green eyes, so fucking captivating, stared back at you.

“You.” you whispered, staring at his covered collarbone. You looked down to yours, tugging on your shirt to see your skin.

It was bare.

“You remembered?” he asked, those prefect eyebrows coming together.

You swallowed, wondering if he knew who he was in your altered reality. “Huh?”

“You remembered that I woke you up from whatever the djinn had you under?” he explained, trying to read your features.

A relieved sigh escaped your lips as you nodded. “Oh, yeah. Yup, I remember that.”

He let out a short breath, nodding along with you. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go wake up your sister. She’s gonna wanna talk to you.”

He got up to make his way to the door, but you stopped him, grabbing his wrist. “Wait,” you called, urgently. He turned to you, that same look of concern on his face. “What’s your name?”

“Dean Winchester.”

My Muse.

Spencer Reid x Reader

In which your paintings have finally been featured in an art gallery. Your team comes to support you and when they do, Spencer is speechless at the fact that all of your work was clearly inspired by him.

anon requested. idk how accurate this is as far as art galleries go so that’s why i didn’t talk about the setup much but i hope you enjoy this! xoxo

Originally posted by dr-spencer-reid-though

You’d been interested in art since you were quite young. Upon seeing all of the beautiful work in museums, when you weren’t working on a case with your team you were painting. 

You’d paint whatever was on your mind and so all of your work was immensely varied. There were paintings with splashes of color that were quite abstract and messy. There were masterpieces consisting entirely of dull colors such as gray, black, and white, paired with harsh lines that were a contrast the the swirls of your art on happier days.

However although a lot of your collection was unable to be clearly interpreted into one specific thing, other pieces were obviously something that you might as well have written exactly what it was underneath it. Your coworker and friend Dr. Spencer Reid, who you had intense feelings for, was often your muse. He had unknowingly inspired you, his curly hair along with his soft brown eyes and sense of style had always ignited something within you that you couldn’t quite explain with words. Your art spoke for you.

Keep reading

Boldly Go to Sea

shameless contrived pre-zimbits ficlet, testing out a different POV - thanks as always to @wrathofthestag for beta and hand-holding! Read on AO3

Title from Adieu Sweet Lovely Nancy - Mick McAuley

Late Sept 2014

Bitty skipped up the Haus steps, phone clutched in one hand and still glowing with the words: Bittle can you come give me hand?

“Sure thing punkin. Whatcha need?”

Bitty bounced through the door and both his body and brain stalled at exactly the same time. Jack was hustling around his room in a mild panic, wearing nothing but his birthday suit. Bitty mechanically pushed the door closed behind him and just stared.

“I… shit… I’m meeting with a scout from Anaheim in twenty minutes and I can’t find my fucking belt, ah!” he exclaimed, tugging the offending article from underneath the duvet.

Bitty still hadn’t moved. He was desperately trying to stop his eyes tracking the swing and sway of… oh dear. Oh me oh my.

Keep reading

Flood my (Christmas) Mornings

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Sweet Souls (Jamie tells Bree a story to get her to sleep) 

Here’s a link to another Christmas-themed scene written for Christmas 2016, along with a Brian and Ellen ficlet from @gotham-ruaidh!


December 25, 1950

‘Children laughing, people passing’

Laughing. That’s what one expects to hear from children on Christmas morning. 

Not a BLOODCURDLING SCREAM.  

Jamie and I went from dead-sleep to complete and utter panic in a single heartbeat, and staggered blindly to her room to find it empty. After a frantic ten seconds, we found her in the doorway to the living room, shrieking in delight at the Christmas tree by the fire.

I groaned in relief and clutched my belly, panting, but Jamie was faster to action. “Brianna Ellen Fraser!” His whole body electric with adrenaline, he snatched her up off the ground and made her look him in the eye.“You’re NOT to prowl around the house wi’out your mother or me, d’ye hear me? Ye stay in your room until we fetch ye.” He gave her a harmless but firm shake for emphasis. “D’ye hear?”

“But—but—Daddy, LOOK!” She contorted in his arms to loll her head back at the tinsel-clad tree. “CHRINSMINS!!!”

Jamie exhaled hugely and closed his eyes for a moment, as if forcing the fear and anger to exit his body. I rubbed his arm encouragingly and he made a small sound of acknowledgment before kissing Bree’s cheek. “Aye, Christmas, it is.” He set her back down on the floor and put his arm around my waist, the both of us looking down ruefully at our grey-hair-inducing progeny. “Ye like the tree, cub?”

“AYE!” Bree squealed emphatically, bouncing twice on the spot for joy before running over to examine it more closely.

Jamie and I had brought in the tree last night after she had gone to bed, making a happy, pajama-clad, fireside evening of getting the thing decorated as the snow gathered outside. We’d happily gorged ourselves on Mrs. Byrd’s iced gingerbread and guzzled apple cider as we festooned the branches with baubles and tinsel. Jamie, though he’d never before the 20th century heard of such a daft thing as bringing a live tree indoors and gaudying it up, seemed absolutely delighted by the overall effect—though in all honesty, it may have been the dollops of whisky he added to his cider. He kept on stepping back and proclaiming passionately, “’s’BEAUTiful!” 

A good portion of the tinsel ended up in our hair and clothing, for decorating inevitably turned into throwing and fits of helpless giggles; and, of course, icing was attack-smeared over faces as we laughed ourselves hoarse; and *naturally,* one thing led to another, AND we ended up on the ground, naked, covered in sticky sugar, and making sweet, sweet Christmas Eve love on the rug (an activity that doesn’t often make the carols and poems, that)(but pretty bloody festive, in my book). 

Jamie’s squeezing my arse into oblivion (as though also remembering our celebrations last night) was more than a little distracting as we fondly watched Bree, swaying as she stared in rapture up at the tree. “S’all—” she made a vague, sweeping gesture with both arms, and hopped up and down, “—all—HAPPY!”

I gave Jamie a squeeze back, laughing. “The tree makes you feel happy, lovey?”

Bree glared at me, ever the toddler-pedant. “It IS happy, Mama, see? See it?”

“You’re so right, baby. It’s a very happy tree.”

A quarter of an hour later, with mugs of tea and plates of toast with cinnamon butter, Bing Cosby crooned out Christmas tunes from the record player while the rest of us sat on the floor by the fire to open gifts.

Bree went first, of course, and her gasp of delight was nearly as alarming as the one that had awoken us in terror. “Issa TRAINNN!!” she squealed, pulling the wrapping paper loose with startling voracity. 

All in all, I would wager Jamie had just as much fun setting the wooden train set up as Bree, and she was having a jolly good time. Seeing the pair of them laying on their stomachs, choo-choo-ing along and causing disastrous (and apparently hilarious) collisions was a special kind of joy.

I wrapped my hands around my mug and leaned back against the face of the sofa, feeling—something in my belly. Not movement—it was far too early for quickening, but that bit of foreign pressure…yes, that was there.

 I can’t wait to meet you, little one, I said silently to my child. Hurry up and join us, alright? And I could have sworn the pressure responded. 

“Happy Christmas, Sassenach.” Jamie was handing me a lumpy parcel wrapped in brown paper.  

“Oh, darling!” I cried in delight a moment later, wrapping what turned out to be a sumptuous plum-colored wool scarf around my neck, “this is gorgeous! Wherever did you get it?”

“Made it.”

“…You MADE it??”

“Oh, aye,” he shrugged, oh-so-casually.  

I just bloody stared at him. “You….KNIT???”

“Aye…is it bad?” He was startled by the intensity of my shock and he looked both bewildered and slightly nervous. 

“NO—not at ALL, but—” I ran my fingers over the fine, neat rows of stitches. “I just—don’t think I’ve ever known a man that knits!”

“No? All highland boys do. Something to keep the hands useful while tending sheep or the like. Or, when there’s down moments at the barn not occupied by the lassies,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He grinned shyly. “Ye really like it?”

“I LOVE it,” I said, with complete sincerity. “Just you wait, all the girls at the hospital will be after you to make THEM one!” 

“Well, I’ll do what I can,” he said amiably, and I could tell he was gratified. 

“Lord, I feel foolish over your present now.” It was definitely NOT homemade.

He grinned. “I’m sure I’ll love it, mo nighean donn.” 

He did love it, in fact. The look of glee in his eye as he thumbed through the full-color special edition of Motor Trend (along with an indefinite subscription) made it clear just how much of a monster we’d created in letting Jamie get his hands on a car— Sorry, get his hands on BONNIE (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ). See? A monster.  He was vociferating passionately about one of the articles on new headlight trends for 1951, when both of our Parent Radar Senses pricked up. “Bree, what are ye doing, there, lass?” 

Bree was walking purposefully toward the foyer, and said only, “Somethin’” 

Jamie snorted with a laugh. “Ye dinna say!” 

“Loveyyyyy…. Tell Mum and Da what you’re doing, over there.” 

She didn’t answer, intent on reaching under the buffet cabinet by the door to grab for something, something that turned out to be a mailing envelope.  

“Why, you clever girl, spotting that!” I peered in vain to ascertain if it was a piece of incoming mail or outgoing. Regardless, it must have gotten pushed off the back of the cabinet by accident, and sat unseen for God knew how long. Hopefully it wasn’t an overdue bill or something urgent. 

“Aye, good work, cub. Can ye bring it here?” 

Pleased with her successful rescue mission, Bree skipped back to us and gave the letter to Jamie. He glanced at it for a minute, then grinned. “That’s a Christmas present for your Mama, a leannan.” 

“Oh? Another one?”

“No’ one that was planned, but I think it’ll be a welcome one, all the same.” 

“Heer’go, Mama,” Bree said, flinging it unceremoniously into my lap. Harvard University, the return address said. 

“Could be very much NOT a present, you know,” I said, seizing up and feeling like I wanted to vomit from anxiety. “In admissions, small envelopes are usually bad news, not good.” 

Jamie’s expression wavered a bit at that, but he gave a game sort of shrug. “Open it?” 

I slit open the envelope with a fingernail. God, these old fuddy-duddy bastards surely rejected me for being a married woman. Thank God, I hadn’t known I was pregnant at the time, for that surely would have been an automatic, No thank you. This rejection would be—

Accepted


It must have shown on my face, for Jamie was beaming from ear to ear as he crawled over to kiss me. “Well done, Sassenach!!” 

“It does say accepted, right?” I handed him the letter. “My brain isn’t making it up?” 

“Aye, there it is, right in black and white. ‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been ACCEPTED.’ Bree, lass, your mother’s going to be a doctor! That’s exciting, aye?” 

“Yeah!!!” Bree said, though she was mostly focused on her trains. 

“More like I’m going to be a part-time organic chemistry and biology student,” I said, but practically bubbling over with relief. I’d been expecting that goddamn letter WEEKS ago! “Just the two prerequisites, but…” BUT STILL! 

“I’m so proud of ye, lass,” he said, beaming. “Happy, happy Christmas, mo ghraidh.”  

a little manorian au




“Damn it,” Manon yelled.

She was already running late for Asterin’s bachelorette party and now this road construction. Stopped behind a minivan, she lowered her window and leaned out. She swore again when she saw the long line of cars in front of her.

After a quick text to her cousin saying she’d be late, Manon settled back in her seat. Movement caught her eye and she glanced in her rear view mirror.

Holy. Shit.

Manon whipped around to watch a sapphire blue Mercedes GT S come to a stop behind her.

As her eyes ran across the incredible lines of the grill, up along the hood… she froze. Then spun back in her seat.

The man behind the wheel had been watching her with one hell of a smirk on his face.

Keeping her head facing straight forward, Manon looked in the mirror. Even from this distance she could tell that his eyes matched his car color. And with that black hair… unbuttoned shirt, tie undone…

Maybe getting stuck in construction isn’t such a bad thing after all, she thought, unable to look away. Or keep a smile from her face.

His head was down, probably on his phone while they were stopped.

Manon finally forced her gaze away to find brake lights ahead of her. Cars were starting to move.

“Damn it!”

Her phone buzzed and she grabbed it, expecting a reply from Asterin. But instead there was an airdrop request.

Dorian Havilliard would like to share a note

That name sounded vaguely familiar. But she couldn’t remember where she’d heard it. Frowning, she hit accept.

To the woman staring at me from the old car. Hope this is you.

A phone number followed.

Her first thought was Old car?! What the hell?

Her second thought was Oh my god.

Manon wasn’t quite breathing as she slowly looked up into the mirror. Instead of the smirk, she was met by a genuine, albeit nervous, smile.

Holy shit.




Dorian did not normally do things like this. As soon as he sent the note he regretted it.

What woman would not think a guy who did this was a creep?

He sighed with relief as the cars ahead of them began to move. Once they were back to two lanes he could pass her and never think about what an idiot he had been.

Who the hell was he kidding. He wasn’t going to forget her anytime soon. Or how much he’d screwed this up.

“Damn it.”

When he’d pulled up behind her red Isuzu Trooper, he’d been admiring its good condition, despite its age. But then he caught a glimpse of her and the car was forgotten.

Long white hair pulled back in a loose braid. Bright golden eyes outlined in black coal. Full lips that matched the deep red of her car.

He could see her still watching him in her rear view mirror. And - good news! - she didn’t look totally freaked out. But then her attention moved back to the task at hand and she was slowly inching away from him.

Dorian put his car into gear, let out the clutch… and stalled it. The sudden lurch forward had her turning around to watch him. 

What the hell, he thought. This can’t get much worse. Instead of sinking down in his seat or covering his face from embarrassment, Dorian simply smiled and shrugged. He knew he was blushing badly. But her laugh was worth it, even if he couldn’t hear it. Just the way she was looking at him had his heart pounding.

A minute or two later and they reached the end of the construction zone. She held up her phone, gave a noncommittal shrug, and then she was on her way. She turned off onto a side street before he could pass her. And just like that, she was gone.




Still hung over from last night’s party, Manon did not feel like schmoozing with family and guests at the rehearsal dinner. But as the maid of honor, she didn’t have a choice. As she watched Asterin move around the room laughing and smiling, Manon wondered how she managed it. She’d had more to drink than anyone last night and yet here she was.

Waving to her cousin, she kept to the wall as she made her way to the main table. All the other Blackbeak cousins were there, with their boyfriends and girlfriends and spouses. Manon closed her eyes and sighed knowing she’d have to endure the third degree from their grandmother.

Manon, you’re the only one without a significant other. Why is that? You’re not getting any younger. You need to settle down and start a family.

Her blood boiled at the thought of having to sit there and listen to that all night. Despite having just arrived, she headed for the restaurant’s back exit for some fresh air.

Leaning against the side of the building, she thought back to the incident the day before. Well, it wasn’t an incident. Nothing bad had happened. And though she’d been a little wary of the brash way that guy had given her his number, his demeanor didn’t strike her as dangerous.

She hadn’t told anyone else about what had happened. Either they’d think he was a creep and make her feel bad for wanting to reply, or they’d push and push until she did it. Both scenarios left her the subject of family gossip, something that happened too much anyway.

And she did want to reply. His reaction to fucking up his shifting had sealed the deal. But she hadn’t had time to think of the perfect text.

Now’s a good time, she thought, looking absently out across the parking lot. Nice excuse to avoid...

Her mind stopped as her eyes landed on a bright blue Mercedes in the back corner of the lot.

Holy shit.

“Hey. Red Trooper right?”

Manon turned to see him coming out the door she’d used. He looked as good as she remembered. And his voice… It was freezing out here but she felt a sudden heat wash over her.

When his smile faltered, she realized she hadn’t said anything. With a grin she replied, “Yeah. Blue Mercedes.” His face lit up and he nodded. “If you’re interested, I might know someone who could give you lessons on driving stick.”




When he’d seen her walk into the restaurant everything had stopped around him. He heard no sound, saw no other people. Only her. In a tight black dress that hugged every curve. Her hair falling loose down her back.

Fingers were snapping in his face. “Excuse me. Dorian?”

His eyes focused back on Fenrys. “What? I missed what you said.”

The groom laughed as he looked back and forth between Dorian and the woman. “She’s the maid of honor. Paired up with Connall for the ceremony. I can introduce you if…”

Dorian wasn’t listening as he followed her movements through the crowded room. She waved to the bride then disappeared out a back door.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll catch up later.” He patted Fenrys on the shoulder and walked away.

It took what felt like forever to get through all the bride’s cousins to reach the door. The second-guessing didn’t hit until he was outside. But seeing her up close, being able to speak to her… his self-doubt disappeared.

“Hey. Red Trooper right?”

Her reaction, a wide-eyed stare, was not quite what he’d expected. His worry came roaring back and he was about to apologize and go back inside when she smiled.

“Yeah. Blue Mercedes.” She cocked an eyebrow. “If you’re interested, I might know someone who could give you lessons on driving stick.”

Dorian’s face turned hot and red but he laughed. “Yes, well. I happened to be very distracted at the time. But I’d be happy to get extra lessons if you’re offering.”

Her answering smirk sent his blood racing. “I was thinking of hooking you up with my mechanic. But I could probably show you a thing or two.”

He let out a low laugh. Their eyes were locked together, like nothing else existed.

“I’m Dorian by the way.” He held out his hand. “I’m one of the groomsmen.”

Her eyebrows raised and she shook her head with a laugh. “Ah, I thought your name sounded familiar. I’m Manon. Cousin of the bride.”

She took his hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you.”

“I suppose we should get back inside,” she said, then didn’t move an inch.

“Yeah. You probably have to give a speech or something,” he said, still holding her hand.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh shit, don’t remind me. It’s tomorrow actually. But speeches are not my strong suit.”

As they turned to go back inside, Dorian said, “How does this sound. As soon as dinner is over, we get out of here. You can show me the proper way to drive my car, and I’ll help you with the speech. Deal?”

Manon smiled and said, “Deal.”



(UPDATED with part 2)

@propshophannah​ and @itach-i​ ask and you shall receive (just this once)

Dive Part 2

Photo creds to @levitann  on tumblr

Dive

Jungkook x reader

Warnings: Smut, strong language,

Subject: Smut, Angst

{ Previous } { Next }

Words: 2092

Anonymous said to :

I would like to make a request and I wish you can make it a series. BTS- Jungkook. Smut- it doesn’t matter, anything does it. Angst- 3 (he uses you but you catch feelings and because of it you don’t seem to notice he’s using you, until one day.) sorry if that doesn’t makes sense. AU- 2,5 and you can make something on your own too. I JUST REALLY LOVE ANGST, SO PLEASE MAKE PURE ANGST OUT OF IT, I AM FEELING SAD THESE DAYS, I LIKE TO CRY! 😊😊😙😙😍

Keep reading

neseatsrobots  asked:

(1/2) In my story I have an MC (Iranian) and her best friend (white) who are hacktivists. After seeing more and more stories of police brutality in the news, the MC wants to do something about it, and they begin to take measures against police officers committing crimes without consequence.

(2/2) As a character who is not black and does not experience police brutality first hand, is it considered “not her fight” and something she should stay out of? As a white person, is it wrong for me to be writing this? This is an issue I feel passionate about, but I don’t want to steal someone else’s voice. 

Police Brutality & Ally Activist Characters

American Police Brutality directly affects a lot of people and helping with the cause is what being an ally is about; Black people should not have to do all the labor and marching alone. So no, I don’t think it’s a problem to have Iranian and white activists investing in the cause. 

I’m not sure what means they go about it (besides hacking systems maybe?) so can’t give advice there, but also note that police brutality, while very much an issue of anti-blackness and racism, also happens to non-Black People of Color and white people (but just notice the common difference between what white people experience vs. Black people and NB-PoC. Smaller amounts of brutality, quick discipline to the offending officers, and white victims usually survive the incidents (And let’s not forget all the footage of police cowering and resisting all use of violence against white people who are pointing guns and/or swinging at them! Yet a Black person lifts their hands to sneeze and it’s shoot first, ask questions later) 

There’s other marginalizations to consider too, such as Trans People of Color being huge targets of violence. Then there’s disability, which Shira and Lesya will talk more about (ever hear about people calling the police to help their mentally ill family members only for the one in need to be murdered by them?). And women, particularly Black women! #SayHerName came about to support the countless Black women who die from police violence but are not given widespread outrage and attention like Black men whatsoever. 

Now, it’s not like you need to cover every issue out there and it’s fine to hone in on just one or a few, but mind the intersections of police brutality to avoid erasure and inaccuracies and be very, very well-researched so you know what you’re writing about.

As for not speaking over people; know that you can’t know all or exactly how it feels from that character’s perspective, but through listening to the stories of people who’ve had these experiences or were affected, and live in regular fear of police brutality and discrimination, you can get a strong impression. Research from the sources helps with authenticity. And as always, try to pass these works through the hands of appropriate beta-readers.

~Mod Colette

I don’t know if it’s relevant but I’ve heard that the one group of white people who are under greater threat from the police than other white people is disabled people. If the white character had one of the disabilities that police treat badly, that might make it more personal for them. 

–Shira

50% of police killings have been disabled people.

Not even just mental health calls. But like. Actually actively thinking that disabled people existing— not making eye contact, fidgeting, loud voices, soft voices— is “resisting arrest” and it escalates in a similar fashion to “living while Black.” Living while disabled is a thing, too. Especially for autistic folk, who, when overloaded, tend to have a fairly extreme fight or flight. 

I recall one Black autistic kid was charged with a felony for kicking a trashcan while he was upset, which is a 100% normal response for anyone but especially for autistic folk who stim via large movements (I’m a puncher, myself, and have released energy by shoving/slapping walls)

So yeah, it’s something hardly anybody talks about but is a huge problem. The intersectional of Black/disabled is super dangerous, but that’s cause both of them have weight. So even white+ disabled is dangerous. And I would love to see ableism explored more in fiction, since we’re so often forgotten.

~Mod Lesya

Whump Week

I’m combing the first 4 days because I’m super behind sorryyyy.

This takes place after Season 3 but before Season 4 so there’s spoilers…

Trigger Warning: Gore, unhealthy lack of confidence

Ships: klance

Word Count: 4189

This is a prequel to these: part two part three

———-

The day had started out alright, and then it turned into a flaming snowball flying down the mountain. Pidge stared at the unyielding purple metal in front of her, then to Lance at her left. She was completely and utterly at a loss.

“Lance?” She croaked pathetically, she cleared her throat and tried again, “Lance?”

“Yeah, Pidge?” His voice was hoarse from shouting, it came out as little more than a painful whisper.

“This is all my fault, if only I had listened to you guys.”

Keep reading

Day off

Day off | Joe Sugg | smut

Word count: 2053

A/N: First smut in English, please take it easy on me!

You can find more Buttercream Squad texts on here | Requests are open!

You started moving in the bed before open your eyes when you woke up, trying to find Joe in there so you could start heating your morning. After feeling only the sheets, you saw the bed was empty. You groaned and heard the shower in the bathroom aside your room, Joe was awake already.

You got up, wondering if you could join Joe in his shower, feeling more horny than you probably should this early in the morning, however this wasn’t a problem, was it? Who cared about that kind of issue? This was something that could easily be sorted out.

“Good morning.” Joe said when you entered the bathroom.

You gave a little ladino smile: “Good morning.”

Y/N in a good mood before eating breakfast and having her shit done? No, that wasn’t her.

“What?” Joe asked cautiously.

“Nothing.” you answered brushing your teeth and, after throwing the toothpaste on the sink, you revealed: “Maybe I could get in there with you.”

Joe looked a little anxious. Not the good anxious, the oh-no anxious.

“Y/N, no.” he determined and you faced him through the mirror.

“Why not?” you inquired while crossing your arms and turning to Joe, seeing his naked body through the box steam.

“I have a meeting.” he said and his voice cracked.

“It’s Saturday, Joe.” you refuted, walking to the shower and opening the box even if you had your clothes on.

“Y/N.” he warned, seeing your movements and not knowing if he could be able to escape them. “It’s an important meeting.”

“Oh, what a shame, isn’t it?” you commented, getting closer to Joe.

He took a step back and his back was against the wall, you took a step further and the warm water falling from the shower wet you, making the white t-shirt of Joe that you used as pajamas every time you were at his place turn transparent, so he could see that you weren’t wearing a bra that morning.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Y/N.” he sighed and held your shoulders tightly, making your smile grow. “I can’t, babe. I swear.” You got confuse and he laid you aside, so he could pass and get off the box.

“Fuck you, Joe!” you exclaimed, alone in the shower.

“We can continue it tonight!” he promised, walking to the other bathroom so he could finish his shower in peace. Now, thanks to you, it would be a cold one.

-

You were laying in the bed and watching Joe searching the closet for his accessories. You chose to put only a black lingerie and got in every room Joe went, still this wasn’t making any difference in your boyfriend’s life.

You rolled your eyes after listening Joe tell you for the fifth time the fact he couldn’t reschedule this meeting. You didn’t care about the damn meeting! You just wanted your boyfriend! You grumbled to yourself and then had an idea. Joe wasn’t helping you with your little situation? Fine, but you wouldn’t help him at all with his too.

“Joe?” you called, interrupting him.

“Hum?”

“We have Oli’s party tonight, you remember it?” you asked, biting your lip.

“Yeah, I told him we will be there at 9.”

“What you think I should wear?”

Joe immediately looked at you. You never asked his opinion about your clothes. Never. You always liked to choose what would you wear in a point that even if you resolved to put an outfit days before the event and didn’t like the set the day of the happening, you would change it to something completely different. Also, he got a bit jealous of you being all over The Weeknd once, after you went to his concert and bought a t-shirt of it. Joe told you he didn’t like the t-shirt and you knew it was about him getting jealous, but not liking something you were wearing? Uh-oh, no! You used that t-shirt 5 days in a roll, making an extra effort to wash it and wear it every day.

“Why…?” he already distrusted you. Well, he should.

You ran your right hand through your hair.

“I don’t know…” you slid your hand to your bra strap, twisting it in your fingers. “I’m feeling a little bit bold today…” you sighed as you placed your left forefinger in your mouth. “Don’t you think that my boobs look nice today?” your both hands went towards your breasts and hold them. “I don’t know, they seem bigger.” you commented and pressed them.

You could hear Joe’s breath despite of him being far from you and, when you blinked, making your “innocent” face to him, he couldn’t breathe at all. You laughed and raised an eyebrow, pressing your breasts in a particular way now, setting a rhythm for it that soon would make you moan.

“Y/N…” Joe whispered, not being able to raise his voice more than that.

Seeing him so close to the edge of losing his self control made you get even hotter, therefore you slipped your right hand through your abs, marking the Paradise’s way with the tips of your fingers, and Joe saw when the fingers disappeared in your black panty.

Joe was struggling already after your little scene in the bathroom and seeing you being so damn sexy was too much to him. He could feel his pants getting tighter and his body heating. Unintentionally, his eyes met yours and you could saw the light blue turn into a dark one, the lust color. Fuck it. Joe slowly walked until the end of the bed.

“You just like to make my life harder, don’t you?” he asked and you looked at him, turning your body.

“Oh, no, Joseph Sugg.” you said with only what was left of your voice, your body tingling for Joe’s touch. “I just want your life to be better.”

And your eyes closed as they were at the beginning of that morning, but now you weren’t sleepy, you were fully awake and, in your mind, all you could see was the scene of Joe touching you the way you wanted him to and you could almost feel it as you pressed your core.

“Y/N.” he called and you opened your eyes. “Leave me a little.”

You smiled and took your hand off your thong, Joe bowed and hold the piece of lace, taking it off. He stood up and looked at you, being sure your eyes were on his before taking his t-shirt off too, so he bowed again and hold your feet, slipping them through the white sheets and making your legs flex together. Then he separated them, opening your legs and bending to give a kiss in between them, your body twisted of excitement.

In the moment Joe’s tongue licked all your core, you pressed your boobs so hard you were sure this would leave a mark after, but you didn’t care. You let a loud moan slip through your lips and started moving your hips, so Joe’s tongue could be more inside you.

“Hold up, dear.” he said, raising his arms and, instead holding your legs, he was holding your hips now. “Are you trying to rush the things?”

And there he was again, with his tongue making you see nothing that made sense, there were only color blurs all over your mind. You couldn’t handle it anymore, so you hold his hair with your left hand to guide him.

“Joe.” you whined.

He raised his head, despite the fact you didn’t want him to, and gave you a smile. He started crawl to the bed until being in the same height as you.

“Don’t like teasing now, huh Y/N?” You nodded your head, no! Teasing was the worst thing ever. “I do like teasing now, though.”

“Joe.” you whined again, his body was all over you. His jeans were rough against your skin and didn’t help you with your situation, making you want to rub yourself in those. You couldn’t move, Joe was holding his weight just enough to not suffocate you.

He laughed. Son of a bitch! You were just being a good girlfriend! You were almost about to tell him what he was when his lips pressed yours and you could feel your own taste on the tip of his tongue, vanishing all your thoughts with heat.

His kiss went down, exploring your neck before Joe took your bra off (finally!). He sucked your nipple while playing the other and you weren’t able to think in one full sentence. You intertwined your legs with his body and when he was near to your belly button, you decided you had enough. Holding his hair tight, you made Joe come up again to kiss him, so you twisted your bodies and now you were on the top.

With a little smile that said “my turn, sweetie”, you got up, hurrying up to take his pants off. How these were there for so long? Gods!

“That feels better, don’t you think?” you asked and Joe nodded his head, yes! Well, it wouldn’t be like this forever.

You decided to leave his boxers there for a little longer, so you could sit in his member and be a little naughty. You started riding and saw Joe let the head hang, without strength to keep going. How nice was the feel of making someone feel that way? Your hips acquire rhythm by themselves and the friction between your clitoris and the soft fabric of his underwear was welcome. Joe hold your waist as his moans grew louder. You were biting your lips and Joe Sugg could swear his life that this was the hottest scene he ever watched.

You gave him a nice smile and started playing with elastic of his boxers, your nail wandering his V area just to give him goosebumps.

“Y/N.” he warned in a long moan.

You laid down and gave Joe a kiss before getting up again and starting to took off his boxers. You put your right hand in his length and started making your way up and down slowly, feeling it pulsate according to what you wanted.

You heard Joe moan loudly, the same kind of moan you knew it was time to stop the little games, he soon would lose his patience, so you started being faster on your movements.

“Oh, fuck it.” Joe complained, sitting so he could hold your shoulders and throw you in bed.

A laugh escaped through your lips, you loved when you teased him so much he started getting pissed off. That day in particular, you were kind of inspired to do that.

“You think is funny, babe?” he asked, holding your hips so he could prepare himself. Your large smile answered his question. “Fine.”

And Joe didn’t want to play anymore, therefore he pushed himself into you without any delicacy and you grunted. This was what you were looking for.

So it was just like that Ed Sheeran’s song, you two pushed and pulled just like magnets do, although magnets couldn’t be as loud as you and Joe. You also couldn’t breath straight, not either Joe, as you got faster and stronger. Your bodies were sweating and the shiver announced the end was near.

Without failing, you felt your orgasm making it’s way to you. As soon as you got there, Joe did too, you both pressing your bodies more and more against each other, holding tighter until it ends.

Joe let a last breath escaped, then he got out of you and fell down in the bed. As you were catching your breath again, you couldn’t avoid to tease him.

“I guess we will need another shower after this.”

“Yes, I guess we will.” he answered.

You looked at him and gave a “I won” smile, just for fun.

“Fuck off, Y/N.” he complained.

You laughed and gave him a hug.

“Now you are already late, can you just miss your meeting so we can cuddle this whole weekend?”

Joe looked at you and then sighed, he gave up and placed his arms around you.

“You always get what you want, don’t you?”

“That is the plan, sweetie.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I will just call my agent and say I’m sick.”

Stars, In Their Multitude (Kageyama x Reader) (Prom!AU)

Universe: Prom

Character: Kageyama Tobio

A belated birthday tribute to my favorite blueberry, and my Christmas gift to every single one of you. Merry Christmas, and I wish you all happy holidays!


Originally posted by kryoutas



“Kageyama, are you sure? There’s still plenty of time before it ends—“

“Sorry, Suga-san,” Kageyama apologized. “I can’t—I don’t—“

“Okay, I get it,” Sugawara said gently, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. He patted Kageyama’s shoulder. “Take care getting home.”

Kageyama nodded, and threw his suit jacket over his shoulder. He walked out of the gym, slightly shivering in the cold as he marched the empty school grounds.

He tried not to get miffed by the fact that he’d been dragged along by the team to the prom despite not securing a date, even though it wasn’t required. He remembered his embarrassment due to the fact that everyone—even salty Tsukishima—had gotten a date, but none of them held that fact against him. Kageyama was simply never good with people, much less women.

Nevertheless, he had gone with them to buy suits, helped make the necessary arrangements, and even went to Tanaka’s house before the event to dress up. But by halfway through the night, he’d already grown tired of the whole thing and decided to leave.

Karasuno at night was something he’d always experienced, having left the school quite late after practices. But this night seemed different—a lot quieter, and a lot more tranquil, in contrast to the sounds from the gym. He decided to take this opportunity to try and calm himself down, by taking the longest route around the school to the exit.

The moon was shining brightly in the sky, accompanied by thousands of stars. Kageyama stopped and stared, exhaling slowly and watching his breath escape his lips in the form of a white wisp.

A sudden movement caught the corner of his eye, and he tore his eyes away from the heavens. Hunched over on a park bench was a girl, and by the looks of it, she was in Kageyama’s year. Her arms were wrapped around herself in an attempt to warm herself up. As he approached, he heard soft sniffling from her, along with irregular breathing and small whimpers.

Immediately, he froze. How am I supposed to approach her without her crying even more at the sight of me? he thought, panicking at the thought of her bursting into tears as he tried to comfort her. Damn, I need to get Suga-san, or Daichi-san, or Asahi-san…no, Asahi-san would cry, too…what do I do?

Kageyama took a lot longer than expected in the same, awkward, reaching-for-her position as he debated on the best course to take so as not to startle her. He decided on clearing his throat first to announce his presence.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said, in the gentlest tone that he could muster. “Are you alright?”

The girl jumped, and immediately sprang to her feet. “Oh! I…yes, I’m alright.” She immediately began smoothing out her hair and brushing away the dirt from her dress.

From what he could see, he guessed that her hair was once pulled up in a simple bun. But now, it was completely messed up, with stray strands framing her face, possibly from when she constantly ran her hands through them in agitation. Her dress, though, was still immaculate and intact: a grey strapless bodice studded with silver crystals, and a skirt that started out black and melted into strands of ice down to her feet. She was the very embodiment of the night sky, a seemingly perfect replica of the current sky Kageyama had been looking at earlier.

The girl rubbed at her eyes gently, and seemed to squint at Kageyama. “I’m sorry, it’s too dark for me to recognize you.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Kageyama Tobio.”

“Ah, you’re the genius setter of the volleyball team! I’m L/N Y/N, class 1-5.”

She had him at “genius setter”, and lost him in the succeeding words. Kageyama’s throat had constricted at the compliment, and he had become embarrassingly silent, as he did when he was flustered. He thanked his lucky stars that it was dark, as he didn’t know how to live it down when Y/N caught a glimpse of his burning cheeks.

So, he was right. She was in his year, and in the advanced classes with Yachi.

“You know Yachi-san, then?” he managed to ask.

“Yeah, she’s my classmate,” Y/N replied. “She’s one of the volleyball team’s managers, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

The two stood there for a while, both unwilling and unsure whether to break the silence or not. Kageyama trained his eyes on the ground and began absentmindedly kicking at some pebbles, while Y/N tucked her hands behind her back.

“So, um…” Kageyama cleared his throat. “Why were you crying?”

When Y/N didn’t answer, he hastily began to explain. “N-not that—I mean, if that wasn’t a rude question—“

“No, no, it’s okay,” Y/N sighed, sitting back down on the bench. “No use lying to you if you’d already seen me.”

She patted the seat next to her, gesturing for Kageyama to sit. He obliged, maintaining a respectful distance from her.

Y/N sighed again, and Kageyama took that opportunity to glance at her in the pale moonlight. She wore make-up, like the rest of the girls did, but something else caught his attention.

Her eyes.

He couldn’t quite put a finger on what color they were. Perhaps it was the light, or the fact that they were a little glassy due to the fact that she’d been crying earlier, but they constantly flickered between colors. One minute they were blue; then green, then brown. Or he was concentrating a little too hard, and he was making a fool of himself right then and there.

“My date,” Y/N finally said, straightening her back. “Decided it would be fun to mess around and left with another girl unannounced. Thought it would be a good laugh to kiss her in front of me.

“He was drunk before we came here. I could smell the alcohol on his breath when he picked me up at my house. Thank goodness he managed to keep it together in front of my parents, but when we got here…”

She laughed humorlessly. “It wasn’t even 8 yet, and he was dead drunk. Somehow sneaked in a flask. That’s when he went and…” Y/N trailed off, either unwilling or too uncomfortable to speak of the matter.

Kageyama frowned, trying to take hold of the situation. “So, your date…went with some other girl?”

“Yeah.”

“And your date…was only your date?”

Y/N smiled dryly. “We started going out in July. I thought I was everything to him, until tonight.”

“Oh.” All the emotions Kageyama had been feeling towards the topic had been summed up in a single syllable.

“It’s just…” Y/N put her face in her hands, exhaling sharply. “I don’t get it. I’ve done everything that I can to make him happy. I did whatever he asked, I agreed to all his decisions, I apologized whenever I was at fault…even when it wasn’t.”

A long sniffle announced that she was ready to cry again.

“It was a reckless decision to date him, I know. People have been telling me that for so long—that I was too young, too inexperienced. But I was a fool. I took pride in the thought that I could take on anything. And I tried to stop him when he started drinking, but…”

Y/N stopped talking, trembling with the effort it took to even pull herself upright. Kageyama was noticeably shocked, confused by the fact that Y/N was able to say so much to someone she had just met thirty seconds ago. But the words were pouring out of her like water in a damaged dam—slowly building up.

“L/N-san,” Kageyama asked. “Is your boyfriend…a senior?”

Y/N mutely nodded, sighing heavily.

So that explains it, Kageyama thought. She said that it “had been a reckless decision”, and that she was “too young”. Maybe Daichi-san or any of the other third-years know…

“Sorry,” Y/N said, wiping her tears away hastily. “I’m being rude, aren’t I? Dumping all of my worries on someone I’ve just met.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Kageyama said quickly. “It’s just…”

He paused, searching for the right words to describe what he wanted to say.

“It’s just…” he began. “I don’t think what he did was acceptable. Boyfriend, date, or senior. You didn’t deserve to go through that.”

Kageyama hesitated, counting the breaths exchanged between the two of them, anxiously awaiting her response. To his horror, she stayed silent.

“I—well, I meant that—you know, he shouldn’t have—“ He was tripping over his tongue unravelling halfway across the ground at that moment, desperately trying to salvage the conversation. “You, I, he, uh—“

His ramblings were cut short when she suddenly laughed; a small giggle that made his breath hitched. He realized that it was the first time all night that he had heard her laugh.

“You’re not very good at expressing yourself, huh, Kageyama-san?” Y/N said, smiling.

Kageyama trained his eyes onto his shoes. Y/N had to smile at his awkwardness, as well as his attempt to comfort her. He tried, and the effort was what made it heartwarming.

“I’ll try my best,” she finally said, causing him to look at her. “I’ll try my best to understand that I deserve better.”

Kageyama watched her carefully, and saw her attempt to put herself back together. Here, he saw a girl trying so hard to work past her misery and put the past behind her. He knew then and there that from now on, she would refuse to be hurt by someone without her consent. And although he wasn’t sure what she was planning to do in order to fix herself, he had an urge to see it for himself.

They hadn’t noticed that they were still quite near the gym, and that the music from the prom was still ongoing. The voice of the DJ caught their attention, breaking them out of the atmosphere that had settled between them.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, to end this night, we’re going to play the last dance!”

A slow song began to play, one that Kageyama had never heard before. Nevertheless, he understood the lyrics: love, second chances, and overall sappy concepts.

“Ah, I’d forgotten about the last dance,” Y/N said, laughing half-heartedly. “I was supposed to save it for him. God, and here I was thinking I’d have the perfect prom…”

Kageyama turned his head to look at her, and was surprised to see her fidgeting with her dress and stealing glances at the gym. She was hesitating—and Kageyama knew exactly what she was pondering on.

Quickly, he threw his suit jacket to the side and stood up, moving in front of her. Y/N looked up, blinking in confusion.

“Kageya—“

“The night’s not over yet,” he said, a little too loudly. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I mean…prom’s not over yet. Truth be told, I was supposed to leave earlier, but…”

He extended his hand, offering it to her. “I wouldn’t want you going back to that guy, L/N-san.”

Y/N blinked owlishly, trying to make sense of the situation. If she wasn’t mistaken, Kageyama Tobio—someone she had literally just met—was offering her a dance. His slightly flushed cheeks were prominent, but he was training his eyes on her; almost as if she was a target he had pinpointed at the exact moment.

She smiled, placing her hand in his, letting him pull her up. He was very formal with her, placing her in the position that they had previously learned in a few classes: clasped hands, a hand on her waist, her hand on his shoulder. They swayed to the beat of the music, slow and steady.

Kageyama was sure that his heart was going to jump out of his throat. He was just praying to every deity that he knew of that he wouldn’t accidentally step on Y/N’s feet, as he had did with so many of his female classmates. Thankfully, Y/N seemed to know what she was doing.

She surprised him even more when she pulled away, only to place her arms around his shoulders and rest her head on his shoulder. Kageyama, unsure what to do, settled for placing his hands on her waist as they continued to dance.

“Thank you, Kageyama,” she whispered. “What you did for me just now…I just want you to know that I really appreciate it.”

“But what did I do?” he asked. “I was just…there.”

“Exactly.”

The sentiment behind that single word brought a small smile to Kageyama’s face, and he pulled her a little closer as the song played on.

Above them, the moon seemed to shine a little brighter, and the stars twinkled with the sudden increase in their numbers.

don’t play with me, baby

Philip puts a hand to his forehead. It does feel a little hot, not like scorching hot, but definitely enough to make him aware of it. He blows out a breath and looks back down to his renaissance book. He’s really thirsty and his mouth is dry, but he doesn’t want to get up right now.

Lukas nudges him with his elbow. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Philip says, trying to focus on the art in his book.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Lukas says, rubbing Philip’s shoulder. “You know it all really well now. And we even did that extra credit assignment.”

Keep reading

cathy-press  asked:

Hi! Could I have Cat Lover Dean and Tattooed/Pierced Castiel please?

ORDER UP!

Dean’s next door neighbor is going to fucking kill him. He thinks. They don’t tend to mix much, even though their apartment doors are side-by-side in the quaint, renovated Victorian house. 

Dean’s been looking for his cat, Lucifer, since the night before. The bastard had door dashed when Dean returned from work, and never showed up despite him shaking bags of treats and making dumbass kissy noises all over the neighborhood.

Lucifer’s back, and he’s having a staring contest with Castiel Milton. God’s gift to Dean’s monochrome life. Castiel is just… everything Dean covets, really. Dark hair tinged with electric blue, thick black glasses, nose ring, fully pierced left ear, and an explosion of color up his entire right arm. Dean’s never seen the tattoo completely, but it looks like angels bathed in cool tones fighting demons in warm tones in splashes of watercolor.

He’s also smoking a Marlboro Light, the white filter of the cigarette casually hanging out of his mouth; stuck to his pale lips in a way that makes Dean want to kiss the life out of him.

He cringes when Castiel, face pinched in his usual grumpy-murderous look, reaches towards the cat. Please don’t hurt my cat, he prays.

To his utter shock, Castiel strokes the top of the Scottish fold’s head so incredibly gently with his knuckles, then he follows the movement forward, stubs out the cigarette in the ashtray on the porch railing, and kisses the cat right between his eyes.

Dean’s whole body stutters as he approaches the porch stairs. He doesn’t think Castiel has seen him yet. But he has.

Without removing his pale blue gaze from the cat, Castiel says in a gravel-rough voice Dean’s sure he’s never heard before because he doesn’t remember feeling these butterflies before, “why would you name a cat Lucifer?”

“Because cats are devils,” Dean answers easily, really about to swallow his tongue. “Awesome little devils.”

Castiel’s gaze shifts up and it freezes Dean in place, even though his body is on fire. “Dean Winchester, apartment two. I’m Cas Milton, apartment one.”

“Yeah… I know. Don’t think we’ve ever spoken before. Sorry about that.” Not for the lack of trying, his brain stage whispers. Castiel just seems so… above. Scary, too. He’s intense. And Dean gets the impression that Castiel has found something lacking in Dean by the way his gaze sharpens. 

He can barely look at Castiel. It’s like staring into the sun. He’d always thought it was a stupid cliche, until it wasn’t anymore.

Therefore he’s struck dumb when Castiel says haltingly, “thank you.”

Dean looks up and is rooted by something his brain won’t process. Castiel is staring at Dean with a red face and wide, earnest blue eyes. “For?” Dean prompts hoarsely. What is HAPPENING?!

“Back… when…” he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. Is he… embarrassed? No way. No fucking way. “When I first moved in,” he rushes on. “You brought me the…” he cups his hands. “The cupcakes. From the local bakery. Left them hanging on the door with the lovely welcome note. They were good. I never thanked you. I didn’t know how.”

Slowly, Dean steps up onto the porch, resting his hip against the railing. “How do you not know how to say thanks? Not that I’m accusing you, or nothing. I’m just surprised.”

Castiel shifts on his foot, arresting eyes falling to his combat boots. “I’m not a people person. I don’t easily relate to others. And you were…” he balls his fists and smacks them against his thighs. “You were irritatingly hot.”

Dean laughs, startled and happy. At least he knows Castiel doesn’t hate him. “I’m not anymore?” The wink is too irresistible to hold back.

If possible, Castiel’s face gets redder. His shoulders hunch. “That’s not what I meant,” he mumbles. “You still are.”

In his distraction, Dean’s almost lost track of Lucifer, who’s starting to get bored. He grabs the cat and drapes him over his shoulder before he can make a second mad escape. “I gotta get this bastard inside, but, like, hey, do you wanna come in? Hang out?”

Castiel blinks up at him looking pleased. “Yes, Dean, I would. I think we would get along if we… hung out. Thank you.”

Grinning, Dean nods over his shoulder. “Come on in.” He thrills at the sound of Castiel’s heavy boots clomping behind him. And if he gives Lucifer an extra chin scratch and treats for bringing about this incredible turn of events, no one needs to be the wiser.

One of These Nights (4/?); jongyu; pg

Jinki knows that he’s gay. What he doesn’t know is how to handle a crush on someone as entwined in the music industry as he is.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

and here’s part 4! ^^ i’ll try and get this whole fic up on ao3 sometime soon as well. this part goes through hello era, up to swc 1, and ends with jongyu having to say some goodbyes for a while since shinee is beginning their japanese debut (2011).

also, fun note maybe: i imagine that in this au, jong got the inspiration for one of his early songs from the last scene – i kinda wonder if it’s obvious which one, but hopefully y’all can enjoy it! there might be a bigger gap between this part and the next than there was between 3 and 4, because i haven’t started editing the next bit yet. ^^; but i’ll try to keep it MUCH shorter than the gap between 2 and 3 was, lmao.

Keep reading

Sweet Omega (Sith!Obi-Wan/Darth Valor x Reader)

Prompt:  “ Hi! I saw that thing about the a/b/o universe and you don’t have to write it but I though like what if the reader and sith!Obi wan met and he realized you were his mate during a battle between them. Idk it’s silly but, I really do love your work! ~C”

A/N: Darth Valor is a character from my fic Struggling Against Me, which you can find on Ao3. I recommend reading that before this if you’re not familiar with Darth Valor. If you have, though, enjoy this A/B/O spinoff!

Originally posted by soartfullydone

The sounds and scent of battle were thick around you as you swung your lightsaber, taking out droids left and right and deflecting their blaster shots as you led your troops onwards. It was only a matter of time until Separatists started to retreat; their droids were no match for your highly trained clones, and you could practically taste the victory as you pushed the front line closer and closer to their base.

“General (Y/L/N)!”

Keep reading