wheel bite

anonymous asked:

for the blurrb thing 'do you ever think about marrying me?' <3

Do you ever think about marrying me?

“Do you ever think about getting married?” Shawn asked you, turning down the music in his car.

His question surprised you quite a lot. You turned your head, gazing over at him. His shy eyes met yours shortly, before looking back on the road.

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Second Star to the Right

7 September 1940

Ash and smoke bleed into the clouds, and rain beats down on Regina Mills’ windshield. An obsidian plume mars the horizon behind her, casting an oppressive shadow upon the narrow, wet one-laned road as she speeds around a corner, her elbow banging into the driver’s side door as she sharply swerves around the curve.

“Regina, slow down!” Emma Swan shouts, bracing one hand on the dash and the other against a splintered passenger side window, glass fogging around her fingers and palm. “We’re not gonna make it if we crash before we get there!”

But Regina can’t slow down, can’t stop, can’t pause for a minute to think beyond Almost there almost there almost there! and the frantic ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump of her heart beating in her chest.

Sweat beads at her temples, tracks through ash, grime, and a smear of blood at her hairline. She’s shaking, muscles spasming painfully, harshly inhaling shuddering breath after breath. 

Calm down, Regina. Just breathe, she thinks, trying to convince herself that everything is going to be alright.

But there’s a drowning dread brewing in her belly, a gnawing terror clawing at her heart as her eyes dart up to the rear view mirror again and again – the sky alight in an unforgiving red behind them as rubber hitting the road puts more distance between them and the horrors of a bloodbath they weren’t prepared for at the Swan House.

God, all those people. The screaming. The flames.

Robin is missing.

Kathryn is dead.

And the world is on fire.

Emma yells again as Regina jerks the wheel to swerve and miss broken crates and an overturned delivery truck on the righthand side of the road. There’s debris littered everywhere – fallen trees, burning countryside, gaping wounds in the earth the size of craters, big billows of smoke reaching up into the air like skeletal tendrils.

She can barely hear Emma, barely lets her friend’s sharp curses divert her attention. She wonders if she’ll be too late, wonders if Henry and Roland are alright.

She needs to get back, needs to get home, needs to get to her boys.
She’s sure they’re alright, prays they are, hopes they are. For what more can she do with five more miles separating her boys from the safety of her arms and the frantic combing of her eyes over their limbs and faces to make sure they’re untouched by the inferno that came from the sky. She thinks of Henry’s apple cheeks and sweet smile. Thinks of Roland’s curly hair and delicious dimples. Dimples he got from his father. Oh God, Robin. She thinks of Robin, of all their letters and tear-stained parchment, and a million unanswered questions filling the pit of her belly with dread.

Her knuckles turn white as she tightens her grip on the steering wheel and bites down on her lower lip. She needs to get home. Now.

Slamming her foot on the accelerator, the tires grip to the road and yank them forward with a lurch. Rubber meeting ground in a godawful screech.

How did everything turn upside down so quickly? How did it all go to shit? That last question makes her think of Robin again. He’s rubbed off on her, and that makes her smile, makes her eyes water, and goddammit, she does not have time for this. This is why you don’t fall in love during wartime, Regina, she thinks. This is why you focus on duty, why you do your part and keep your heart out of play. But she didn’t keep her heart out of play; it cracked open, slowly at first, and then all at once, letting warmth and comfort and love flood in. Robin and Roland had done that, with their charm and their goofy grins, her love for them had snuck up on her, and she’d been flabbergasted at how much she and Henry had soon wanted the Locksley men in their lives. Their love had laid her heart bare in a way that it hadn’t been in years (not since Daniel, not since before she’d been brokered into a marriage to Leopold, and not since she’d first held her darling Henry to her chest. He’d been lost just like her, an orphan during wartime, and she may not have brought him into this world with blood and pain, but she’d loved him instantly with a force so fierce she hadn’t known where it had come from.

“Regina!” Emma exclaims and grips tightly to her arm to get her attention, pulling her out of the past and into the very chaotic present. “I don’t want to die in this stupid piece of metal! Not after what we just went through! Not after Kathryn…”

Regina whips her head around, glaring at Emma, fighting off tears threatening to fall.

Robin is missing.

Kathryn is dead.

The world is one fire.

And she has to get home to the boys.

It’s a mantra she keeps repeating in her head. Something to ground her. Truths she can’t ignore.

It keeps her going, keeps her from breaking down.

Regina’s eyes are back on the road in front of her, but she doesn’t miss the reassurance in Emma’s voice when she speaks next.

“I know, and you know, they’re safe–” the boys, she’s talking about the boys “–Maggie and Marcus wouldn’t let anything happen to Roland. And they love you and Henry, as if you were their own blood. They’ll protect them.” Emma lets go of Regina’s hand as they turn onto the long driveway up to the Locksley farm. Emma blows out a breath, and then gasps, turning around swiftly in her seat and craning her neck to peer out the cab of the truck and up into the clouds.

Regina follows her gaze out her driver’s side mirror.

Planes. An entire fleet, flying overhead toward the city center.

Oh God. Changing autumn leaves pass by in a blur as Regina barrels up the driveway, pebbles spinning out from beneath the truck’s tires as they grapple against gravel for traction.

Her fingers grip more tightly to the steering wheel and she presses down on the pedal again, hard. Takes the next turn at an alarming speed, and on any other day, she’d be more cautious. She’s never driven like this before, hasn’t really driven in years, would never drive like this in general, but there’s still a faint metallic taste in her mouth. There’s still the subtle, unwelcomed burn of ash in her lungs. And Kathryn’s broken body is still clearly painted in her mind.

The lower pasture up ahead blurs, goes watery, and then tears spill beyond her lashes like a flood breaking through a dam. “Almost there,” Regina urgently speaks, voice caught in her throat.

“Come on, come on.” She can see Emma staring at her through the corner of her eye.

They pass over hills and into the valley paralleling the lake, getting closer and closer to the homestead as her heart violently beats faster and faster in her chest. Ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump. The sound of it bleeding into her eardrums, drowning out all other sounds, snuffing out the voice in her head telling her she’s not going to make it, shouting that things will never be the same again as more planes fly overhead.

This is it, she thinks. This is how the world ends.

The truck skids to a halt on the graveled drive in front of Maggie and Marcus Locksley’s country home. And then Regina’s pushing open the door, slamming it shut behind her–the key still in the ignition. She doesn’t take the time to wait for Emma before hiking up her skirt and bounding up the front steps of the house, practically throwing open the front screen door; it violently swings on its hinges, bangs against the wall with a godawful snap. But she doesn’t care that that’s probably left a doorknob dent in the drywall. Who the fuck cares about something like that when London has just been bombed and the city is burning?

She’s out of breath when she shouts, “Henry!” careening down the entryway hallway. “Henry! Roland! Maggie! Marcus!”

She sees Maggie first. “Christ, Regina! You’re covered in blood!” 

And she is, but she doesn’t have time to explain, hears the echo of Kathryn’s scream in her head as the ceiling had collapsed on them, remembers the heat of the inferno singing the hair on her arms, and her colleague’s blood on her hands and apron as she and Emma had tried to carry Kathryn out of the rubble of the Swan House. But she doesn’t say any of that, instead blinks back tears burning at the corners of her eyes and says, “It’s not mine!” and begs, “Where are the boys?”

Maggie pulls her into a quick squeeze and runs her palms down Regina’s arms, checking her over for injuries. A mother through and through. “Marcus has the boys. They’re grabbing the dog and then we’re going to the cellar. Bags are already together.”

Regina nods frantically, and then Emma’s behind her, the screen door slamming into its frame again. “We have to go!” she shouts. “Where are the kids?”

“They’re coming,” Maggie replies, handing Regina and Emma potato sacks filled to the brim with clothing, canteens filled with fresh well water, produce, and basic medical supplies. Regina’s eyes widen as she stares at the contents. There are black market items in these bags. Things they’ve been out of for months, things she thought Maggie had gotten rid of, some things that she in fact helped the older woman get rid of. And yet here they are.

“Maggie…” she says, “where did you…”

“Does it matter?”

No, she supposes it doesn’t, and they’ll be happy for Maggie’s hoarding of illegal items when they’re down in the bunker.

“Okay, we have to go, seriously,” Emma says again. “There’s gonna be a second wave any minute! This isn’t a drill!”

“Where are the boys?” Regina shouts again, nerves unraveling at the seams.

“We’re here!” Marcus Locksley calls. Roland is propped up above his hip, arms tightly wrapped around his grandpa’s neck, and then Henry is shouting, running past the two of them and colliding against Regina’s body.

"Mom!” He cries as she drops to her knees and clutches him to her, her fingers threading into his hair as she breathes his name in a sigh of relief. Her baby is safe; he’s safe. He’s in her arms, and she’s breathing him in, and kissing his cheeks, and drying tears from his eyes, and he’s safe.

It takes them all of five minutes after that to make it across the field to the bunker, and as they lock the shelter door behind them and start running down the stairs, the next wave begins.

Dust unsettles, the walls vibrate, Roland buries his face into his grandpa’s chest and whimpers.

“Mom, I’m scared,” Henry cries into Regina’s shoulder as they huddle together in the far corner of the cellar.

She hugs him a little tighter, presses her lips to the crown of his head and whispers, “I know, honey. Me too.”

“Regina?” Marcus sets Roland down and the five year old runs over to her.

“Yes, sweetheart?” she says, folding him into her side and giving him and Henry a squeeze. She ushers them to the cot near the shelf with all the canned peaches and beans, and urges them to sit down.

Roland wipes his runny nose on his sleeve and sniffles. “Is my papa gonna be okay?”

“Oh sweetheart, it’ll be okay,” she says, brushing his curls out of his face and situating herself onto the cot so both of the boys can curl into her sides. She combs her fingers through their hair, and whispers reassuringly, “He’s safe; your papa’s safe.” And then she says, “We’re safe. You’re safe, he’s safe, we’re safe.”

She repeats those words over and over.
And then it begins again.


The walls shake.


Dust unsettles.


Roland covers his ears, and Henry buries his face in his mother’s side.

“We’re going to be alright,” Regina whispers, pressing a kiss to Henry’s brow and combing her fingers through Roland’s curls again.

She wraps her arms more tightly around them both and prays to God she’s right.

Dead Beat

Word Count: 1588

Genre: Soulmate!AU (Reader X Jimin)

|| You have felt his strong emotions, you have shared the same heartbeat, you have shared the same breath. Everything he feels, you feel. Everything you feel, he feels. By sharing the same heartbeat, you could feel each other’s excitement and happiness. But it could also mean that if his stops, so does yours.

A/N: i pulled this out of my ass tbqh Please enjoy this fic~

Originally posted by jeonmp3

12:38AM. You woke up again, drenched in sweat. Your shirt’s neckline was heavy and wet along with the back. Sighing, you figured your soulmate was having another nightmare. Feeling utterly helpless, you felt a wash of fear drown you. This was the third time this week, and your heart couldn’t take another shock. You felt so bad, so horrible that your soulmate was going through this and you couldn’t do anything. You didn’t even know who in the Hell your soulmate was. You ran your fingers through your hair, the roots stuck to each other from sweat. Falling back onto your bed, you felt your heartbeat start to slow down; maybe he was calming down. You closed your eyes, hoping to give him the wash of calm you felt. Your breathing started to pace itself, and you could feel him calm down.

While you were fast asleep, there laid Jimin, restless and afraid. He didn’t live in the best part of town, but what put him to sleep every night was your paced heartbeat and your feeling of calmness. After seeing one of his close friends nearly die in a drive-by shooting, Jimin couldn’t fall asleep soundly anymore. His chest had a heavy weight, feeling guilty over making you lose sleep as well. Every time his breath quickened, every time he felt uneasy, you would feel it too. Unfortunately for him, Jimin couldn’t sleep somewhere safer. Despite his horrible situation, he remained hopeful, praying that one day you’ll find him and that you’ll take away the pain he was feeling. He ran his fingers through his faded orange hair and turned to his side, eyeing the clock and letting sleep take him away.

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mind games

a/n: tHIS LITERALLY TOOK ME FOREVER IM SO SORRY (this also sort of veered off the prompt but ive rewritten this too many times)

request a prompt here

AU PROMPT #11: “We’re both psychology majors, and it’s great and all that we know everything about the topic, but it would be awesome if you could stop diagnosing me with being a dick - it’s unnecessary and definitely not a legitimate condition.”

 jimin x reader

Originally posted by holdmettightbts

      TO SAY PARK JIMIN WAS YOUR GREATEST RIVAL WOULD BE AN UNDERSTATEMENT. Every time his name was spoken, it would ignite some kind of fire in your heart and you blood would boil. Not only was he infuriatingly giving you a run for your money as the top student in the psychology department, he was also gorgeous. And boy, did he know it. 

Midterms were coming up and you were basically two pages away from reaching insanity. You were running on two hours of sleep and a shit ton of coffee, nose buried in your psych textbook. You could hear Jimin’s (glorious) laughter through your earbuds and you felt your eye twitch. 

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The Signs Aesthetics  (@virghoez)

Aries: red converse, bruised knuckles, boyfriend jeans, going on a swing set, campfires, sunburns 

 Taurus: huge sweaters, messy buns, lazy mornings, small plants, bruised knees 

 Gemini: soda cans, Adidas tennis shoes, overalls, oil pastels, soft smiles, distressed jeans 

 Cancer: libraries, soft blankets, wavy hair, Polaroid cameras, beanies, ice cream

Leo: festivals, crop tops, going to the beach at night, fireworks and sparklers, big smiles, yellow converse

Virgo: new sketchbooks, short hair, roses, cold hands, green tea, rainy afternoons

Libra: vintage furniture, blowing bubbles, iced coffee, pink pastel, flowers beginning to bloom, choker necklaces

Scorpio: thunderstorms, black vans (tennis shoes), birthday balloons, dark red lipstick, braids

Sagittarius: fairy lights, hiking, combat boots, flower crowns, climbing high fences, braces

Capricorn: handwritten letters, hot coffee, dark makeup, sunsets, scented candles, black Nikes

Aquarius: going to a swimming pool late at night, jean jackets, milkshakes, dandelion fields, Ferris wheels, bright lipsticks

Pisces: kittens, biting your lip, looking at the night sky, paintings, expensive chocolates, baseball caps

(Created by: @virghoez )

closed with eclairegrey

It had been a long enough drive out to Arizona to drop some of her sister’s things off; from clothes to trinkets left in Claire’s house, there was quite a few objects to look through. Their grandparents house that Tasha lived at was growing less homely and more cramped with cramps, knick knacks, and other various objects always laying about. To help try and empty the house a bit, the mintette climbed up into the attic to clear room for the things they wanted to save.

“Gosh…” She coughed and tugged her scarf up over her button nose, hoping to avoid a triggering asthma attack from the dust off of old chests and dressers. Nothing too impressive she hadn’t seen before, aside from…a random backpack tucked behind a large chair? “What’s this doing back here? Tash, is this yours?”

The backpack had clearly seen better days, with patches and heavy re - stitch work scattered over its cloth skin. It almost looked like one of that fake vintage hipster fashion, with its gross olive green complexion and rusty-lookin’ orange patches.

It was a creepy little fucker, very Tim Burton-esque, for it looked as though one of Snow White’s little rabbits had a run in with the undertaker. Yeah, that’s right, it was a deformed little rabbit backpack, where one would unzip it’s stomach to store their own contents. It was empty, mostly.. empty. And it had been that way for years and years and years. So much so that the rabbit had lost track of how many days it had spent in confinement.

Er right, the rabbit had a memory, and feelings, and apparently a rather shrill cry that it let out once the green - haired chick had picked him up. He screeched until she dropped him on the floor, where he landed with an “Oof.”

“You!” He yelled, swinging a paw at her, “What are you?!” He hadn’t felt such strong energy levels since..since.. well he had a face and a name, but not a year; it had been too long since then.

On a typical day he laid down and accepted his eternal fate, but this, this was interesting. He didn’t encounter a human like this every day. While they normally were beneath conversation to him, this was something he just had to explore.

The girl stared at him, eyes wide and hands frozen into the position of where she let him go. No, no, there was no time for this nonsense.

“Cat got your tongue eh?” He asked, sitting up fully. “Normal human after all perhaps? What are you doing here?”

It wasn’t much to admire, that was for sure. On one hand, it met a hipster aesthetic side of her that she loved. This backpack would be cute in her studio, but wouldn’t actually have much use other than for decoration. But it would seem that all it did here as well. That is,

Until it talked.

Dropping the backpack as quickly as she picked it up, the freckled girl backpedaled away before tripping over herself and falling to the dusty floor in a loud heap. It was…being sarcastic with her? Did she inhale too much cleaner?

“I…t-this is my grandparents…uh…home..” Claire rubbed the back of her head in confusion, staring at the object with intense honey eyes. “What..are you doing here?”
The rabbit slowly shook its head and stood up- yes- Stood. Up. And then proceeded to dust itself off with a frown, quickly seeing it was counter productive.

“I’ve been here since a little brown mouse picked me up at a shop awhile pack. Can’t say how long it was, I don’t have much of a sense of time these days,” he shrugged his little shoulders and sat back down and the pile of boxes he’d be dropped on.

“Small lil’ mousey girl ya know, thin and whatnot, ya know her? She put me here in this box Im standing on right after buying me and forgot about me. I’ve been listening to rattling cars, jazz music and old people coughing ever since.”

It, he, he jostled his head back and forth a little, shaking the dust from his ears before he continued speaking. “Ya know I asked you first to be fair, why are YOU here invading my box, my sanctuary?”
How was this thing alive and moving? Or, well… Moving, at least. It looked like he was in pretty rough shape. So Tasha bought this thing?

“My sister? Short red hair? Why did she just leave you cramped up here if you can talk and move and everything?” She was dumbfounded, but incredibly curious. Crawling closer, Claire lifted one of his tiny arms before grinning.

“I was just going through their things, trying to clean out some room and everything… But..Well, I mean I didn’t expect to find a tiny talking backpack up here!” A honey sweet laugh echoed through the attic while she combed through green locks.
“I don’t talk to just ANYONE you know,” he said smugly, as if it should be obvious. He pulled his arm away from her grasp. “You can probably tell from looking at me what I tend to go through when I communicate with humans.”

He moved away from his cardboard perch and closer to her form, half circling her with tiny steps.

“I thought you were a witch for a moment, but I see now that’s not the case based on your reaction. You just have the potential of one is all.”

He shook his head in disappointment and tsked, “My mistake really, you can just go on your merry way and-”

“Claire? Where you calling for me?” A voice asked from below the attic. The rabbit immediately retracted its steps from her and fell onto the floor, playing dead in a sort of way.

She knew she probably shouldn’t admit to it out loud, but the tiny bunny creature was adorable. If it were up to her, she’d just scoop him up and play with his cutr little ears. But it seemed he wasn’t so kind and cuddly.

“A witch? Oh, because of my funky hair, right?” Claire smiled and twirled a curl around her finger before smiling briefly. What was this thing talking about? Maybe it was just messing around with her. The potential to be a witch? What did that mean?

When she heard Tasha coming up the attic ladder however, the mintette spun around and shielded the form with her body. If he didn’t speak to Tasha for a reason, then she probably shouldn’t know about what just happened…“Oh! Hey, yeah I just, I wanted to know if you took out those boxes to my car yet. I’m almost done rearranging up here so we can clean up a bit.”
“Oh,” she paused, “Yeah.. I’m good to go whenever you are. Everything is all packed back up outside.”

The bunny continued to lay motionless on the floor, well practiced in hiding his unusual “qualities” from human beings. He wasn’t mindless though, and as he continued to ease drop on their conversation, his own thoughts starting to circulate.

“She’s unaware of her potential.. I wonder if I could find that useful,” he thought to himself, “Maybe she’ll take me with her, or else I can somehow stow away-”

He was interrupted as Claire nudged his body with the back of her heel back towards the mountain of boxes. The mousey one retreated back downstairs, and he eagerly waited for a response.

“Awesome. I’ll see you in a minute, squirt.” Claire leaned over and ruffled up Tasha’s short hair before turning around to finish arranging things for the most room in the storage area. This…thing was a backpack after all. It wouldn’t be so weird if she just slung it over her shoulder to bring him home right? After all, he had talked! Something that amazing couldn’t be left up here to rot away forever!

The woman didn’t waste time scooping him up and adjusting the straps on her freckled shoulders before glancing over to whisper. “I’m sure you know, but I wouldn’t go talking down there. I’m gonna get you out of this dusty attic at least.” Claire stated before clearing her throat and lifting one of the chests that had to be sold.

It didn’t take long to pack up her silver car. Everything fit fairly well in the trunk, with the exception of a few items in the back and front seats. Saying her goodbyes to her family, Claire grinned and hugged her sister before setting the bunny on her passenger side. Should..he be buckled? Nah, he is a backpack after all. This is fine.
The bunny remained a statue until the green haired girl pulled onto the main highway, ignoring her small glances towards him for a solid half hour.

“So.. I thought about just being silent and making you think you were crazy for awhile, but I’m too concerned for my own whereabouts to do that,” he said matter-of- factly.

He slowly turned his head to her. “Basically I just wanna know where we’re going and what your plans are for me in case I need to start thinking fast.” I mean, this definitely wouldn’t be the first time and a backpack couldn’t be too careful.

The entire time of the car ride consisted of her watching the backpack and the road frantically. If he was trying to trick her or mess with her, it was working. But as soon as he spoke up again, the mintette let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Oh thank goodness! I mean, I know you were talking, but I was worried I broke you or something! Are you ok? You don’t want to go back, do you?” It dawned on her that she never even asked the backpack if he wanted freedom; especially by the way he was talking now. But she couldn’t help but give a small laugh once again.

“Who just..takes backpacks? I mean, you’re a cute little bunny sack. Noones going to hurt you. I mean, my puppy might sniff you and check you out, but I was just going to go to my apartment until I figured out what to do.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem, ” he said with a wave of his- er, paw. “Until you pass me on to someone else, you are now my owner. That’s all. I don’t suppose you’re familiar with the typical bonding contract speech, especially if you’re just a normal human?”

Claire just blinked a few times. “Of course I’m just a normal human, is it seriously because of my hair that you think I’m a witch? No, I don’t..I’m not familiar with your binding thing or whatever…” She drummed her fingers along the wheel, biting at her bottom lip. Was this for real?

The knapsack barked a laugh at her. “Ahah, no, your hair is nothing out of the ordinary for me I assure you. If you don’t know what I experienced then there is no reason to explain it to you..” He stretched out his little limbs.

“However, I will explain my contract to you, as I am required to through it.” He stood up and began examining her vehicle, unaccustomed to this newer model. “As long as you keep me, I am yours to do as you please with. I can complete any task or attempt to complete any task for you.” The rabbit fiddled with the air conditioning, ooing with interest.

“You can also release and stuff me back into this form whenever you choose - what you didn’t think I was actually a ruck sack did you?” He asked, catching her bewildered expression. “I have a form that will look like yours in this world so- er I suppose that doesn’t make sense to you either does it.. been a while since I’ve done this.”

Although they made it back to Claire’s house safely, she couldn’t help but tap the breaks a tad too hard when he mentioned having a form like hers. Did he mean he could look human? Oh shit. The backpack bumped the dash a little too hard, and once in park Claire scooped him up apologizing rapidly.

“So…okay, uh..Im..I’m trying my best here. So…you’re just-just trapped? As a backpack?” She asked, slinging him over her shoulder again as she started to empty her car and carry things inside. A bouncing black little lab stumbled about and barked up at the two of them upon arrival.

The backpack remained quiet until it was certain that there was no one else around. “I will tell you what I mean in a safer location, though I’m sure you are a person who talks to themselves, too much of that will be a cause for concern.”

He remained limp on her person until she had carried the last of her stuff into the apartment. Immediately he jumped to the floor and began wandering around his new surroundings, certain of his safety.

“I’ve been stuck like this for roughly 460 human years,” he called out to her as he crawled around her kitchen, “I pissed off a witch that summoned me and she trapt me in this. I was passed on through her family until they died out, and I’ve been kind of all over the place ever since. Pawn shops, antique stores, yard sales, ya know.”

Jasper was more than excited to sniff at and smell the new toy before barking excitedly and running all around the wooden flooring. Claire on the other hand just sat on a chair and listened, nodding now and then to show she was still interested.

“So..what, you’re stuck like this forever? I thought you said you could change to help me out.”

“Well yeah, but only if you tell me to,” he said, tilting his head. The gesture vaguely looked like an eye roll, but with sewn button eyes it was hard to tell.

“You have to be kinda specific if you want me to do what you want in a certain way, and believe me I wouldn’t tell you that part of it wasn’t required of my curse.” The rabbit crawled across the kitchen counters eyeing the dog warily, er, what seemed like it at least with the lack of facial expression.

“I’m also required to tell you that my curse wears off of me, at least appearance-wise, once a month, but I am not required to say when.” He wheezed out a chuckle and made his way towards the toaster. “And as for that forever thing, I’m not required to tell you all the details of my cursing, so I’m choosing to keep that to myself.”

Claire chewed her lip for a moment, wondering just how specific she’d have to be in her demands. Despite having something or…well, someone, she figured, around her house, she wasn’t about to order someone around unnecesarily.

How long had it been since this creature had seen kitchen objects, if ever? He seemed pretty wary of her puppy too. And if she wasn’t just misinterpreting him the wrong way, it seemed like this tiny little backpack was just a salty little man.

“Well I could choose to stuff you in a closet now that you belong to me, but I’m not mean to put you back in something like that. You help me out when I need it, and I’ll do what I can to help you too. We can work together, or you can stay a tiny little accessory for as long as I want. I just…I mean, what do I call you? Do you have a name? Or should I call you Bunny Sack? Sacky? Sack Attack. I like that one.”

“Okay first of all fuck you and fuck that sack nonsense,” he deadpanned, “The name you will have to use for me to do your bidding is Agares. I’ve been called a lot of shit but that’s the one that you have to use if you want me to listen to you.”

He finally hoped down from the counter space to engage with the four - legged fur ball, deciding that it was safe.

“Second, if you think that I haven’t spent what to you would feel like is an eternity in a dark and cramped space, I have news for you,” he stated, “There is a lot worse you would have to do to me than that, and since you own me now there really isn’t much of a need for threats. I am however, supposed to advise you that I am dangerous, and that you need to be very clear in what you expect from me, for I will always try to find a loophole.” He grumbled at the end of that, something about ruining all of the fun.

He huffed as he shuffled over to her now, circling her. “Think of me as a genie of sorts, I can’t exactly grant wishes, but I am capable of more than any human is. And like a genie, you need to be very specific in your wishes.”

Claire scoffed lightly before gripping her kitchen counter with her fingernails. This little shit was interesting, but if he was going to disrespect her, there would have to be something done about it. She wasn’t usually one to order people about, but…if that’s why he was made, right?

“Agares?” She parroted his name, letting it be burned into her memory. It seemed getting him to actually cooperate with her would be an adventure all on its own, but she was ready. Maybe it would be best to start off with little tasks, just to see if he would listen to her in a semi-respectable way. Glancing around her apartment for something for him to to, Claire folded her arms under her breasts.

“I want you to fill Jasper’s bowl with water, please.”

The backpack turned towards the dog and then slowly around the room until he saw the object that she was referring too. He quietly tapped over to the dish and picked it up with his little arms, carrying it towards the sink. He then tossed the bowl up into the sink with a loud and echoing clang.

“Now,” he said with a grunt as he dragged himself back onto the counter, “Depending on how nice I’m feeling will depend on how I handle your request typically, that I don’t have to tell you, I just am because I’m feeling rather nice. And as such, I feel that I should inform you that I-” he cut himself off as he reached to sink, turning the bowl the right direction to fill it.

“Unless you allow me out of this form I will be unable to get this down without spilling it. Small arms ya see. And I really must recommend that you remember that I didn’t need to tell you that for future tasks.”

The whole ordeal of watching him struggle and shuffle about was…well, comical to say the least. To have him complete tasks in such a tiny form made her feel a little better about him being such a grump. But Agares was right: he didn’t have to tell her such information about releasing him from this form, and she was lucky to not have a shit ton of water on her floor.

“Yeah, I guess I have a lot to keep in mind. So..how does this work? I just..you’re free to be out of that form?” The mintette waved her hand in a small circle as if it would help, watching his nubby arms handle the dog bowl.

A loud popping sound exploded in the room and Claire looked on in horror as the knapsack suddenly imploded and twisted in on itself- er, himself, leaving nothing but a small black hole floating above her kitchen countertop.

The room felt colder, and she quickly realized that it was sacking the air right out of the room, as objects nearby it started to shudder and slide towards its small opening. No sooner had she noticed the movement that it stilled, and a hand was bursting through the small orb of darkness.

Slowly but surely another hand appeared, stretching the hole further while the figure pulled its form out of the abyss. A crop of mossy green hair appeared, followed by the head and full torso of a pale, unaturally toned, and scarred man. He shrugged briefly to pull himself out of the aybss, the center of it drifting back up one nude leg after he released his first one, before it centered over where his navel would be and glazed over like some sort of gem.
Through the entirety of the transition he had been hovering above her kitchen counter, and once the orb solidified the force keeping him up disappeared, and he plopped down with a thud, bare ass in the kitchen sink.
“Oof, Not used to that anymore,” he said with a thicker accent than before. Was it British? No, his words were too Americanized. He pushed himself out of the sink and refilled the water dish, his antics causing it to spill anyway. He calmly placed the dish on the floor and clicked his fingers for Jasper to come over to drink, smirking with satisfaction as he did just that.
Agares stood up straight and crossed his arm over his bare chest, the orb glinting from the light on kitchen ceiling. His amber eyes seem to cast the same amount of light as he grinned at Claire ’s gaping expression.

“Anything else while I’m at it?”

The sight before her was something straight out of a science fiction film. Before her very eyes was a force of space sucking her possessions towards it, and even her green hair lifted up and pulled towards the black hole. But it was done just like that too, and just like that as well, a naked man in her kitchen.

…a naked man. In her kitchen. Flushing bright pink, the freckled girl squeaked before raising her fingertips to gaping lips. It wasn’t the fact he was nude; she was a photographer after all. But the fact a body had materialized from a backpack…

“Wow! You..wow…just…” Claire didn’t get much further than that. She was admiring Agares with a curious glint in her eyes as she rounded him, still doing her best to avoid making the situation more awkward. “So this is the real you, huh? Tell me what you can do like this.”

He smiled mischievously, “There’s a lot that I can do like this, the longer I’m left alone in this form.”

He raised a clawed finger to her throat, “I could get rid of you, but that puts me right back where I started and I’d rather stick it out and see what you’re capable of.”

He turned his attention on Jasper and snapped his fingers, when nothing happened other than the dog cocking its head in confusion, the man grumbled and snapped again, this time causing the mut to slowly float off of the ground. Agares slowly moved the animal through the kitchen and gently placed the now whimpering creature on the sofa. “Ahahah,” he chuckled, “That’s also something that I can do!”

He raised his eyebrows and pinched two fingers together before gently pressing them into the gem at his navel, it gave away easily, almost like a pocket, and he pulled out a pair of black pants. “And this I suppose.”

Despite the obvious danger she was risking herself in, (and with a claw at her throat, no less) she had to break into a smile when he decided to let her be. Maybe they would be useful to one another? Who knew.
But one thing for sure; her dog shouldn’t be hovering. Scurrying past the nude man, Claire scooped her pup up before turning to see a pair of black pants conveniently covering his lower waist.

“You just..can pull stuff out of there? Well…I mean that’s pretty useful I guess. You uhm, you should get dressed. I mean, get dressed. Now. Please. Uh..” A bead of sweat trickled down her temple.

The man laughed loudly, throwing his head back while his stomach heaved. “As you wish,” he said, bending over to slide the pants on, one leg at a time. “That’s kind of why I pulled them out in the first place, I am familiar human customs, and I know platonic nudity isn’t typically one of them in this country.”

He snapped the elastic fabric on his hips, with it clinging to his prominent v-line. “To answer your earlier question,” he began “I AM mostly just a knapsack now, an enchanted one at that, and it would be rather useless for my owner to not have access to my contents in this form right?”

He frowned as he reached inside of the orb once more. “It seems that I do not have other clothing in me anymore, so I have to ask you how you’d like me to address that issue?”

With a huff, Claire brushed a strand of hair behind her ear before sparing a glance at him. For a…backpack man…he looked better than most guys she had seen in her life. But he only came with a single pair of pants?

“Oh..yeah, uh, here! Come with me. I have some of Alex’s clothes here. They’ll probably fit you..” She mumbled more to herself than Agares; turning once to make sure he had actually obeyed her. It seemed if she just put meaning behind what she asked, he would do it.

Grabbing a white T-shirt and a tan blazer, she handed them to him before looking for whatever else he may need. Shoes? Boxers? Hopefully her boyfriend wouldn’t be…too angry.

“Mm,” he hummed, sliding the t-shirt over his dorito - shaped torso. It was a little tight in the biceps and rose a little bit on his stomach revealing the blackish - green coarse hairs of his treasure trail.

“I am perfectly capable of stealing you know, if you would find that to be an easier alternative. This Alex, will probably notice that these are missing,” he offered with a raise of his brows. He could sense the girl’s apprehension as she dug about her home and figured he might as well try to make things a little more efficient.

Despite the shirt not quite fitting him right, it would have to be good enough for now. Besides, he pulled it off well. And with the jacket over it, it was fine.

Raising her hands up and waiving them hectically. “No! No, you are not to steal anything. You hear me? No stealing.” Her honey eyes wavered as she held a glance with him before tucking the other clothes away.

“Well…I could use help cleaning my house. I have a lot of stuff to do, and with a second pair of hands, it would go faster. Literally you can do anything around the house to clean up, okay?” Pulling her locks into a messy bun, Claire sashayed into the kitchen before scrubbing the countertops.

The man sighed dramatically and shook his hair out of his eyes. Boring tasks, as per usual. He sniffed out cleaning supplies and set to work, though, not in the most useful sense.

She had said that he could do anything, as long as it was cleaning. After testing his footing against the wall of the hallway for a few moments, he felt enough of his powers within himself to make his move.

With a drenched mop, he casually walked up the wall towards the ceiling, mopping the walls as he went, over photographs, posters, etc. His hair stood on end as his reached his destination, and his shirt only rode up more as he worked while periodically walling back down to rewet his mop. The demon sniggered to himself and daintily spun on his toes as he scrubbed the light fixtures.

Even though Claire was cleaning and working in her kitchen and dining room, she could hear shuffling around somewhere in her apartment. ‘As long as he’s helping, I suppose.’ But as the mintette walked into the next room and slipped onto her plump bottom, she ended up in a puddle staring up at the ceiling in confusion.

“What…Agares! What do you think you’re doing!?” She squeaked, shivering as water dripped down onto her features. Was this one of his loopholes…? To be fair, she wasn’t exactly specific…

Groaning and climbing to her feet, she peeled off her wet shirt before folding her arms. “Get off the ceiling and dry everything you just got wet.” Her honey eyes narrowed.

“But if I come down from the ceiling, I won’t be able to properly dry it you know,” he reasoned, chuckling dryly.

He hopped off of the ceiling down next to her, his feet along with the mop combining to create a large splatter over her. The demon poked his tongue out of his mouth, grinning, and he extended a clawed hands towards her as a gesture to help her up.

With her green locks now clinging to her face in dark curtains, Claire couldnt help but laugh a little bit. She wasn’t one to stay sour or angry, no matter any situation. So after taking his hand, she squeezed out her hair before smiling.

“Well, I guess I can help you dry everything off. Otherwise…” Her voice trailed off when she noticed a damp photograph of three young children. Quickly slipping it out of the frame to save it, she exhaled loudly before walking into her bedroom to tuck it away.

Paying the girl no mind, the demon produced a large cloth out of his belly button portal of doom and began soaking up the puddles on the floor with it. He pulled out three more similar cloths, somewhat like a clown would pull handkerchiefs out of his sleeve to continue collecting water as it dripped off of the ceiling.

After collecting herself, Claire came back out wearing a comfy pair of grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt, her wet hair up in a bun. She helped dry Jasper off with a towel, making his fur floof up before he ran around barking. “Well…now that even my ceiling is clean, I don’t know what to ask you to do..”

“If you wait long enough with me like this, I can just *make* your home clean for you,” he said with a shrug, “I’m no genie that you humans are fond of, but I am able to make some things take care of themselves. Magic and all that.”

He sat down on the floor and stretched his legs out, humming to himself. Despite it all, he found himself enjoying the ache of a stretch after being used to feeling so little sensation-wise. Being cramped in small places wasn’t really an issue for him, as he didn’t need to move around in the rabbit form to keep his body healthy. The demon hiked up his pants legs and began scratching at the multiple scars circling his limbs, finding it oddly satisfying. It felt good to be reminded that he was in fact a real being.

“What do you mean, make my home clean for me? You mean like beauty and the beast stuff? Or fantasia? Becuase I certainly don’t need living objects, and a-a..a flood would..” Claire hugged her freckled arms and stared off at the wall with a hollow expression before clearing her throat.

“I can clean my house by myself. It’s fine. Just…stay out of trouble and don’t break anything. Don’t touch any photo equipment. That’s an order.” She frowned slightly down at Agares before going to the door and slipped on a pair of boots. “I have to go get Alex from work, so…just..just behave.” With that, she closed the door and started up her bike outside before speeding off.

The demon huffed and crossed his own arms at her as she spoke. He rolled his eyes once she changed her gaze and began to ruffle through his hair to entertain himself. He decided she was being a bit too dramatic, but chose not to say anything to avoid further squabbling as she readied herself for her journey.

After a rather harsh shutting of the door, he jumped to his feet and began sniffing and stroking random objects throughout the apartment like a bloodhound. The more contact he made with these items, the more he could learn about who owned them and what kind of life experiences they had. It was the best way to learn about human reputations, or demons for that matter.

He was sure to stay away from the photography equipment, at least of what he knew was photography equipment. A lot had changed in modern technology since he was last outside. But after touching a light stand, his “data” updated and he managed to stay away from the rest of it.

He found a few more of Alex’s things and wrinkled his nose in disgust and he inhaled his scent. Visuals flashed before him that made his stomach sink, and he decided then and there that he didn’t like that one too much. As to what to do about it, he knew he’d have to wait until he could learn more about Claire’s current reputation and emotional wellbeing.

It wasn’t that he had a soft spot for certain humans, he found them interesting sure, but overall their lives didn’t matter much to him. There were exceptions of course, the worse of a person that someone was, the more he enjoyed damaging their reputation.

It wasn’t that she was worried about the state of her apartment and Agares-…No, that was exactly it. Especially if he caused trouble once Alex would get home. The brunette didn’t seem to even acknowledge Claire when she picked him up. He made her move to the back of her own bike so that he could drive home.

Once they got back, he started complaining about how his day went, about horrible customers and how sore he was. Without any consideration to what she was trying to warn him about, Alex shoved the door open and shot a look to kill a small animal at the demon in her living room.

“So that’s it? You’re cheating on me with another green haired hippie freak?”

Agares smiled softly, an expression that completely changed his demeanor, as he quickly stood to greet the intruder, er, new human.

“Oh I’m so sorry, this is a misunderstanding,” the demon said apologetically, “I’m Auther Agares, a graduate student from Munich. My housing plans went awry once I’d arrived and-oh, no excuses from me, I bumped into Claire, quite literally, outside the Student Affairs office today after an unhelpful meeting, and ended up explaining my predicament to her.”
The demon paused and reached forward to grab the man’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically and yet timidly to give the impression of an uneven power dynamic.

“You must be Alex,” he said warmly, “Your kind and generous girlfriend has told me all about you. I hope it’s not too much of a bother, but since you have your own apartment and there is a spare room, Claire has offered to let me stay here until I’m able to find proper housing. I’m looking for side employment starting tomorrow so that I can help repay any costs that I can, as I have yet to begin my research at the university.”

The demon kept his glowing green eyes locked on Alex’s, while his expression read as passive, almost pitiful, Claire could see his underlying predatory nature. Something about his hypnotic eye contact was keeping Alex unaware, and the defensive man’s shoulders slowly started to slump and relax.

“I do hope to be out of here in just a few days if possible, and I truly apologize for any inconvenience that this may cause you as well as Claire,” the demon said, I’m willing to do whatever I can to be a considerate guest.”

Brand New Superman || Yongguk

WARNINGS: None. Fluff.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: First time father, Bang Yongguk, does a special on The Return of Superman.

Yongguk played with his fingers as he watched the crew in front of him set up the cameras. He had been casted as one of four fathers in a brand new season of The Return of Superman. The show was cancelled after Choo Sarang, the famous Japanese-Korean girl, turned six. It was picked up years later with new celebrities and their children. Yongguk was one of those celebrities that got picked.

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Six months and I’m still musing over “girl crush,” pretty sure that it’s the space in the dark where our lips do not, cannot, never will touch. (If this is my penance, at least let me paint her in a golden blush- to have and to hold, but never call my own).

I think that we are training wheels and hands that bite, she thinks that we are syrup in coffee and friends too busy to hang out. In her version, I find denial in a changing room, while she finds a dress that fits just so and looks so cool. (I hope her boyfriend knows; we are two types of the same fool).

She dates him in daylight now. They are cookie cutter heartbreak- fight, make up, and fight again. She tells me, “sweater season won’t last forever,” but sunshine merely ditches “old hoodie” for “oversized t-shirt.“ I shiver in size six, bite my tongue to keep from telling her that she only looks "great.” (They walk home side by side, and though I do not wish it, I am the juice carton that separates their star-crossed knuckles at breakfast time).

Screw boundaries- I wonder if he grips her hips or tugs her wrist, bruises in the shape of too-big fingertips and a laugh that side-splits. I wonder if she’s ever thought about me, even by mistake, wonder if she knows that her stupid stupid half smile makes the bones of my shoulders ache. (Why chase after idle boys, when in my eyes, she could be the idolised?)

I class I write the simple hypothesis: her mouth tastes like the lipgloss she “borrowed” three weeks ago. Or maybe I’m kidding myself. Maybe she’d taste like smoke and ashes and him and all wrong, and maybe I’d hold her like she was china instead of plastic and she’d get oh so bored.

We test this theory skimming rocks on the sand, bitten hand in bitten hand. He is a figure in the distance, a movie reel of old pictures. She is warm and shines golden, and my heart beats in starts until the spell is broken. (“I’ve missed you.”// “Yeah, right.” After three cones of vanilla ice cream, she is a mockingbird in flight).

The words “I’m sorry,” are spiders in my throat (and fireflies in her own)- sorry that I care more for soft skin than modern art, sorry that all my cryptic texts ask, beg, plead to return to stuttered starts.

I don’t even qualify for experiment- isn’t that the worst part? Her exception is tan and tall and she’s going to kiss her neck in a college bar and leave without looking back, call me and laugh about our common ground. She’ll use a drunken string of “strange-envy-hot,” and I’ll play along, pretend like I hide no shame beneath my sheets, conceal no storm between my ribs.

(But in the darkness, I am wrong).

—  She said I love you
so damned much, just not like that. x

Summary: Based on this text post, you can’t sleep and decide to see if Dean is also awake.

Word Count: 1,050

Warnings: none.

A/N: Something quick and light to just be able to say I posted today, lol. I also have to relate every cute, romantic thing I see to Dean. x.x 

You lay on your back, frustration seeping through the haze you had been in the whole night. You can’t sleep, rest has been avoiding you and you see no end to the insomnia. You glance at your cell phone and sigh at the time. It’s 3am. Would Dean be awake at this time? You shrug to yourself and decide to find out if he is.

Your knock to his bedroom door is soft. You know he’d be able to hear it if he was roused. You hear what seems to be the dragging of socks on the floor and Dean’s sleepy-eyed look meets you as he pulls the door open. His expression immediately softens at your sight, tender smile overtaking his lips. He knows about your lack of sleep, has actually been waiting for an excuse to finally get to do this with you.

“Let me grab my jacket and keys,” he says, voice rough but gentle. You merely nod your head, waiting in the hallway.

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Head Down Low (Epilogue: Swing Life Away)

Summary: Dan isn’t right. He’s not like most of the others, he’s not genetically pure. He has no destined path, he has nothing going for him in life. He’ll be lucky to get himself a job in a fast food kitchen, and everyone looks down on him like he’s a piece of dirt stuck at the bottom of their shoe. Except one person: Phil Lester.

Warnings: Non-con/dubcon, later consensual sex, mentions of depression and low self-esteem, references to ocd, references to ptsd.

Last Chapter || Masterpost || AO3 link

Silent prayers of thanks are on Phil’s lips every night for the gift of Dan’s smile.

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Watch on lovingsylvia.tumblr.com

Sylvia Plath reads Stopped Dead, written 19 October 1962

A squeal of brakes.
Or is it a birth cry?
And here we are, hung out over the dead drop
Uncle, pants factory Fatso, millionaire.
And you out cold beside me in your chair.

The wheels, two rubber grubs, bite their sweet tails.
Is that Spain down there?
Red and yellow, two passionate hot metals
Writhing and sighing, what sort of a scenery is it?
It isn’t England, it isn’t France, it isn’t Ireland.

It’s violent. We’re here on a visit,
With a goddam baby screaming off somewhere.
There’s always a bloody baby in the air.
I’d call it a sunset, but
Whoever heard a sunset yowl like that?

You are sunk in your seven chins, still as a ham.
Who do you think I am,
Uncle, uncle?
Sad Hamlet, with a knife?
Where do you stash your life?

Is it a penny, a pearl—
Your soul, your soul?
I’ll carry it off like a rich pretty girl,
Simply open the door and step out of the car
And live in Gibraltar on air, on air.

Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems

Good luck Charm {Part 1}

Imagine Jensen is single in this. No hate towards Danneel and JJ and they’re *coming soon* additions, love them all. This is just for fun. This was saved in my draft, unfinished. Decided to finish it. Hope you guys enjoy.

Jensen X reader

word count;  1380


 Part 2 is now up.

  Summary: The reader attends her first Spn convention, expecting it to be it to be her once in a lifetime opportunity to finally meet her favourite TV stars. The cast of Supernatural. But is her good luck charm more than just a silly good luck phenomenon or is it density. 

Originally posted by emotionalperson

So, this is your first time attending a Spn convention. You have literally been saving up for years. Earning enough so you can get the best tickets possible, You wanted it to be the moment in your life you will never forget. I mean, You were still sitting on your bed, and the nerves and excitement rushing through your veins were already making you jump, just think how You would react when the day actually comes. 

Also attending with you is your best friend (Y/F/N). To be honest, she was the one that got you into Supernatural in the first place; she kept on going on and on how she shipped “Destiel” and how she was more of a ‘Sam girl’ then she was a ‘Dean girl’, this was great for you, cause from the very first episode you got hooked by Dean Winchester, well more or so the actor that plays him. Jensen Ackles. Man, what a gift to the world that man was. 

Here you were, all ready and packed, you and your friend lived a good 5 hours car journey away from where the convention was being held, so traveling up the day before was the best idea, Not only was it a chance to get some shut eye but also a chance to ‘mingle’, meet some new friends that share the same interests. 

You’ve planned every detail in your head months before; from what you were going to say when you finally meet your idols down to what clothes you were going to wear. That’s how you spent the majority of the car journey. 

*5 hours later*

 Hey, Hey! (Y/N) look!!“ (Y/F/N) said, patting you gently on the shoulder. “I would love to! But I don’t think I can read and drive” you chuckled at your own sarcasm. “Oh yeah, sorry! I’ll read it out to you” she began. “Okay, well. Your “babe” Jensen Ackles will be performing tonight at the Karaoke!!“ She read out calmly.

 *calmly* really?! If you were reading that out to her, You would have Been busting with flames! 

Containing your excitement, your grip got tighter around the steering wheel, also, you began biting the inside of you lips.

 Luckily, you didn’t have to keep up your *internal fangirling* for long, as you were pulling up towards the hotel. You were finally here. Your home for the next couple of days!

 From the moment you stepped out of your car, you could already see a few of Spn fans, many dressed as Dean, Sam, Cas, Crowley.etc.! You, of course, felt underdressed for this occasion in time and being (Y/F/N) she was already in her cosplay, she, of course, went as everyone’s beloved Angel. Castiel. 

Seeing how you and your friend both paid for one of the best all round inclusive; your room was located on the top floor! To your luck, this was also the floor the cast were staying on. 

Already 2 hours in since your arrival, (Y/F/N) has already ditched you for some guy, to be fair, he was pretty hot. She says that she’s found her Dean to Castiel. You were happy for her, she hasn’t had much luck with love lately. 

So, to kill time you decided to go celebrity hunting, to see if any of the cast were here yet! You grabbed your phone and headphones. Your couldn’t go anywhere without music blasting in your ears. 

As you walked out of hotel room, you remembered that (Y/F/N) had the key to the room! She should be back up during the time you’re away…so you just left it! 

As you headed your way to the elevator , not concentrating what was going on in your surrounding, you ran into a strong muscular structure and shortly afterwards the burning sensation of boiling hot liquid poured down your body.

 "Ahghhh…shit” you merely whimper due to the extreme sensation.

 "Oh my god, I am so so sorry!“ Hearing a very very similar male voice. No! It couldn’t be you thought to yourself.

 He offered his hand, you took it without a thought. You slowly scanned his figure, starting from his toes up his thighs, to his torso and up his firm chest and finally reaching his face! Beautifully structured, every inch perfect. After finally analysing his facial features you then stopped at his deep green eyes. His eyes were already connected with yours. There was a moment of bliss silence. He then was the first to break the silence between the two of you! 

"I am really so sorry! Jensen by the way!” As he spoke, he went down to pick up your phone taking a quick glance at what you were listening to. “Crazy love?” Jensen half smiled half smirked. 

“I would have never guessed. (y/N),” you chuckled “and, yeah…I’ve been kind of obsessed the first time I heard you sing it! Sorry to sound like an obsessed fan” you smiled while tucking a strain of hair behind your ear. “Well, it’s one of my favourites to sing and listen too!” Jensen shyly smiled to the floor. “ oh god! I almost forgot!! You need a new change of clothing, come with me, I’ll give you something to wear!” He offered. You kindly turned down the offer as you didn’t want to bother him or use up his free time.

 "Oh no, I couldn’t…..!“ You shock you head slowly. Glancing down at your now damp shirt…which was practically see through

 "I insist! Please!” Jensen’s eyes connected with yours once again! I mean, if he insisted, you weren’t going to turn it down a second Time. “Ok-okay” you were hiding your face from Jensen’s sight! Only because you were smiling like a little school girl. 

You followed him to his hotel room, trying to comprehend whether this was real life or not. Walking behind Jensen you were pinching yourself casually, just to check! Yep, this was all real. ALL REAL?!? 

Internally, you weren’t dealing with this very well, you were screaming, freaking out, inside you felt like a crazy ass fangirl. Outside, you was a crazy ass fangirl, just calmer than your inside self. 

Finally reaching his room, Jensen quickly rushed in, walking to his bedroom. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, so you stood there, waiting, as awkward as ever. a few moments later, Jensen’s head popped round the corner. 'Here!’ He handed you over his iconic "Batman” shirt! 

'Oh god, no! I don’t think I’m worthy of this shirt!’ You exaggerated every moment and every word. 

Jensen started laughing. Fuck me. His laughs warmed you up so much inside. Forget butterflies, birds were Swarming around your stomach. 

'Just take it “Thor” ’ he winked Not turning down his offer you grabbed the shirt out of his hand and headed straight to the bathroom. 

Taking your time in there, you spent the first minute freaking the shit out! Then spent the next minute trying to calm yourself down from your fangirling state. 

Finally coming out of the bathroom, Jensen was waiting by the door waiting for you.

 'Do girls always take this long in the toilets ?’ He questioned you. 

'Only those who have the opportunity of meeting their favourite actors and wearing their shirts’ your sarcasm was noticeable as hell as you answer. 

'Point taken’ Jensen half grinned. Leading you out into the Hall way, Jensen locked his door and turned back to you. Not breaking his intense stare, he shifted slightly closer to you.

 "So, I guess this is it…“ You trailed off, starting to mumble the rest of your words. 

'You’re coming to tonight’s evening event right?’ His eyes intensified once again.

 'Of course!!’ A stroke of excitement could be heard in your voice.

 'Well then, this isn’t it’ Jensen spoke while raising his eyebrows.

 'Well, you’re probably not going to see me anyway, not with all the people in the room!’ You looked down to your feet.

 Chipping at your chin, Jensen raised your chin, so that once again your eyes were locked on his, his on yours.

 'How could I possibly miss this beautiful face’ his eyes, ran soft with passion and love. You nudged slightly. Your cheeks started to burn. Hands started to sweat. You couldn’t believe what your were hearing.

 'I should really get going. My friend is probably looking for me.’ You said shyly. 'Thank you for everything’ you gave Jensen a quick smile. As you walked away, you kept stroking the neckless that your Dad gave you before he past, You’ve never taken it off since then. You’ve always thought that it was your good luck charm, Well, from today’s encounter, it seems to be working. 

Jensen kept on Watching up until you disappeared behind the elevator door. All he could think about now was you.