we've been up for a long time

min yoongi probably.....
  • Taehyung: *throws up*
  • Yoongi: gross
  • Taehyung: *stares* OH GOD I'M PREGNANT
  • Yoongi: what tae no that's not how pregnancy works
  • Taehyung: BUT JUNGKOOK DIDN'T USE A CONDOM LAST TIME I'M PREGNANT I'M NOT READY TO BE A FATHER
  • Taehyung: *runs out of the room screaming*
  • Jungkook: *walks into the room*
  • *everyone stares at him*
  • Jungkook: am i that beautiful

catch me being the neediest person in the world and my boyfriend loving me and giving me all of the attention always wow i’m so in love and gay, like, i’m truly so in love with max and idk i can’t wait to have a really nice future with him he’s everything to me

bts as shit the admins have said (pt.3)
  • jimin: if we had to argue over v, we would've broken up a long time ago
  • namjoon: those massage oils would've been useful
  • seokjin: WE'VE MOVED ON FROM SHITTY GAS STATION SEX TOYS
  • yoongi: I love that pretty bitch
  • jeongguk: we're so ghetto it hurts
  • taehyung: why is there a tree named harold
  • hoseok: *nopes out of existence*
2

whatever happens out here one thing is certain: you will account for me

title: effervescence
summary: A glimpse into the early couple days. — SasuSaku, canon-complacent drabble.
dedication: to les, if she ever does see this. ;A;
notes: friendly reminder that I’m up for hire for a charitable reason, more info here. also, formating fics is a bitch, boo tumblr, boo.


The bathwater is lukewarm, a cool caress on her heated skin.

Summers in Konoha are always torrid, but somehow she remembered them to have been gentler in the past.

Or perhaps it isn’t the weather at all that is making her burn up like this.

“You’re doing it again,” Sasuke murmurs, lips pressed against the nape of her neck.

His breath tickles.

“Hm? Doing what?” Sakura asks, leaning back further into him.

His arms are snug around her, post-coital bliss having softened the hold that was almost bruising until mere minutes ago. There’s a patch of scar tissue on his left biceps that’s softer than the rest of his skin, and the touch of it leaves a bittersweet feeling.

Her heart had stopped for a second, back then, when she’d saw him and Naruto bleeding out, the red all the more deep in color under the setting sun’s light. That patch of skin from where Tsunade had sewn him on a brand new arm is both a vivid reminder that she almost lost him and the solid proof he’s very much real for whenever she thinks this is all almost too good to be real.

She hasn’t forgotten how authentic the Tsukuyomi had felt.

“That. Drifting off into your head,” he says, and it isn’t a reprimand. His thumbs are tracing circles across her ribs, the touch more gentle than the flap of a butterfly’s wings.

It’s counterproductive to pulling her out of the daze she is in, but Sakura is not about to tell him that.

“It’s just –” she starts, and pauses to gather her thoughts. “I’m happy. So happy. That you’re here,” she says, all in one breath, and halts. Then, quietly, she adds: “That you are mine.”

Sasuke smiles against her skin, peppering kisses into the crook of her throat and up the side of it, all the way to her jaw, right under her ear.

“I’m happy, too,” he whispers. “That I’m here. That you are mine.”

Outside their home, the sky bleeds gold and gray. There’s a promise of rain on the horizon, and the cracks in the dry ground widen, anticipating the flood.

gladiolvs and I have been planning this for a long time now, but with the recent announcement of the remake, we’ve decided to speed things up a bit.

From June 21st to the 27th, we’ll be celebrating our love for this evil ass corporation and its employees. You can contribute in any form, including gifsets, edits, fanart, etc etc.

Day 1: Favorite SOLDIER (includes cloud)
Day 2: Favorite Turk (includes vincent since he was a turk)
Day 3: Favorite executive/president (like rufus, reeve, heidegger, etc)
Day 4: Favorite Relationship
Day 5: Favorite Badass Moment
Day 6: Favorite Division (like SOLDIER, Turks, scientists, etc)
Day 7: Free day/why you love Shinra

Make sure to tag all your stuff with #shinraweek so everyone can see them! If you have any questions, feel free to ask either gladiolvs or me.

Baby, We’ve Got A Problem: Chapter 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 1335

Summary:  The reader faces some trouble when Baby isn’t just a car anymore. Human!Impala

Gif:

A/N: Read Chapter 1 Here! Read Chapter 2 Here!

Also, sorry about the abrupt ending. I originally had this, and what will be chapter 4 as one chapter, but it was SUPER long, so I broke it up. 

—–

“Damn it, Y/N.” Dean throws his phone down on the table in frustration.

It had been three hours since you left, without a single phone call or a text. Dean had called you six times now, and you didn’t answer once.

“Still nothing?” Sam looks up at his brother from across the table.

Dean sighs, rubbing a hand down his face.

The two of you had plenty of fights before. That’s what happens when two hotheaded and stubborn hunters try to make a life together. But no matter how much you yelled and screamed, if you left, you’d be back in an hour. The two of you would realize how stupid you’d been, and you’d make up the best way you knew how; Breathy “sorries” in-between rough touches and sloppy kisses. Hell, sometimes Dean would just pick fights just for the awesome makeup sex that always followed.

But this was different. When the two of you fought, you were always pissed, frustrated or just flat out annoyed. Tonight, tonight was different. As you screamed at him, your eyes glistened. Your teeth grit so tight, he thought your jaw was going to pop out. This time, you were hurt. And you didn’t get hurt. You were tough. Not shedding a tear whenever Dean had to stitch you up after a fight. Opting for whiskey and sex over talking about your feelings. A lifetime as a hunter had made you tough, inside and out, and watching you stand under the florescent lights, your body shaking and looking totally unsure of yourself, Dean didn’t know what to do. He had never seen this side of you and wasn’t sure how he was suppose to make it better.

He had a feeling there wouldn’t be any makeups tonight.

“I’ve called her six times, Sammy. Six! And nothing. She’s never been gone this long.” He bangs his fist on the table, bouncing it as he tries to think.

“Any idea where she might be?”

Dean purses his lips.

You could be anywhere. You were a loose cannon, one that always kept him on his toes. Every day was different with you. You were like a whirlwind wherever you want.  Dean knew you inside and out, from every scar, to every thought that crossed your mind, but even then he still didn’t know where you would go. You could be at the lake, where you love to go and write in your journal or read, or you could be at your favorite diner, where the waitress Sally reminds you of your mom, or the library, just sitting in the quietness, needing a break from it all. You didn’t have one spot, you had spots all over town, and you could be at any one of them.

“No fucking clue.” Dean grips his phone tight, tempted to call you again, but knowing there won’t be an answer.

“And the worst part is, I’m not even sure what she’s upset about! I mean, obviously it has to do with Baby, but I just have no clue why it’s bothering her so much.” He shakes his head, his jaw clenched as your words run through his head.

“Do you know what she even said?” Dean points to his brother. Sam shakes his head and shrugs. “She said, and I quote, ‘you and Sam are playing grab ass with the car.’” Sam snorts a laugh through his nose. “What the hell does that even mean?” Dean throws his hands up.

Sam looks away, towards the hallway where Baby is, either in the kitchen or in her room.

She had tried to help Dean with whatever was going on with you two, but a gruff, “Baby, not now,” had her ducking her head and getting out of the way, not wanting to push his anger further.

“I mean, maybe she’s got a point.” Dean’s eyes go wide as Sam shrugs. “I mean, yeah, we’ve been researching, but Y/N’s really the only one who’s been trying to find something. We’ve been totally okay with Baby turning.”

“Cause it’s Baby. We know her. She knows us. She’s the only home we’ve ever had until we found the bunker. She’s just as much family as you and me!” Dean yells, feeling like he shouldn’t have to defend Baby to Sam.

“Yeah, Dean, I get that, I do, and it’s a sweet sentiment when Baby was just a car, but now she’s not. And maybe Y/N’s right, maybe we shouldn’t be as okay with it as we are. We’ve been so caught up in hearing her stories and teaching her things, we’ve overlooked the fact that just a week ago, Baby was steel parts and rubber, and now she’s a real, live woman.”

Sam lets his words hang in the air, sinking into Dean’s mind.

He admits, after the initial freak out of it all, he almost instantly took to the idea of Baby being alive. But Baby meant the world to him, more than she did to Sam. He was the one who spent hours a week on her making sure she was tuned up and running well. He was the one who carefully cleaned her so she never had a single mark scarring her. He had built her from the inside out on more than one occasion.  

She was his car, his home, the only other thing Dean actually cared about in this screwed up world besides Sammy, Y/N, and Cas.

“So we’re not as freaked out as we should be.” Dean shrugs. “But why the hell would that piss Y/N off so much that she’d still be gone? It’s past midnight, Sam. This isn’t like her.”

Sam purses his lips. He has a thought, but he’s not sure if he should say it or not.

“What?” Dean demands, recognizing the look on his brother’s face.

Sam takes a deep breath, looking around the library like the answer he’s looking for his written on one of the bookshelves.

“Maybe,” he started, his lips coming together. “Maybe she uncomfortable with her.”

Dean’s eyebrows scrunch together.

Uncomfortable?” Dean asks incredulity. “Why the hell would Y/N be uncomfortable with Baby.”

“Dean, just think about it for a minute. Think about how much you love Baby, as a car. How much time and effort you put in to taking care of her. How you talk about her like she’s a real person. And now she is a real person.”

Dean laughs, sharp and sarcastic.

“Are you trying to tell me that you think Y/N is jealous? Jealous of Baby?” Dean points over his shoulders. “Y/N doesn’t get jealous, Sammy.” Dean crosses his arm.

“Yeah, Dean, she doesn’t get jealous of random girls who hit on you at bars, or the winks that witnesses give you when we’re working cases. But you don’t know them. You have no history with them. They mean nothing to do. But Baby means the world to you. And Y/N knows that.”

Dean points as his brother, ready to give him an earful, when his phone vibrates in his hand, your name flashing across the screen.

“Y/N?” Dean sighs in relief.

“Uh, no.” Dean’s face scrunches up and he straightens up in his chair at the unfamiliar voice. Sam does the same, noticing something isn’t right. “It’s Paul, from J.J’s Tavern.”

Dean relaxes a little, recognizing the name of their local bartender, but confusion stays etched on his face as he wonders why Paul’s calling from your phone.

“I’m calling cause Y/N needs a ride, and she refusing a taxi and trying to convince me to let her walk.”

“Jesus christ.” Dean mutters, his head falling into his free hand. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Dean’s out of his chair before he even hangs up.

“You found her?” Sam calls after him.

“I’ll be back soon.” Dean yells over his shoulder, grabbing some keys to a spare car and racing down the road.

—-

Continue Reading Here!

We’ve Met Before: Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen: The Prince of Starkhaven

I want to thank @reaping-cain​, @cometeclipsewriting​, and @fleurdemonalis-a​ for giving me feedback at various points during the editing process. I was really nervous about this chapter since I haven’t written Sebastian all that much. 

Previous Chapter

Though she could have slept for another week at least, it seemed, waking up in Cullen’s arms had been perhaps the best morning she’d ever had. Even thinking of it now made a peculiar warmth spread through her body, a contentment she’d hadn’t felt since–well, for a very long time indeed. She felt safe with his arm slung around her waist, the other pillowing her head. She had been able to feel the rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart against her back. It was comforting, and intimate in a way she’d not encountered before. It brought back the fleeting memories of their first night together, and the few spare moments she’d allowed herself to lie awake in his bed, listening to his deep breathing before she had fled. In those moments, she had pretended that she didn’t have to leave, that everything was fine and this was just another morning waking up with her lover.

Elena stared at her reflection in the mirror, slowly blending her foundation and cover up over the worst of Livius’ parting gift. The purple-green color spread up side of her forehead and down her cheek, with an angry red scab at the center. It was a miracle she didn’t have a black eye, all things considered. After a moment of consideration, she decided things were as good as they were going to get–she wouldn’t be able to hide the cut anyway. Fussing with her hair, she tried to cover what her makeup couldn’t. Growing up in her father’s household had unfortunately given her the right skills to mask almost any injury from a less discerning gaze.

Hearing the rap of knuckles on wood, she turned to find Cullen standing in the doorway.

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