whichever one you think i would be in

Heat

Jack Sparrow

Admiration, attraction, smut

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean

Request:  “Heyyy!!! In celebration of POTC 5 coming out could you do a Jack Sparrow x reader or imagine whichever one you choose where the both of you get marooned on an island by Barbossa and his crew and things get heated like a little more than Jack and Elizabeth in POTC 1. And then like you guys find a way of the island and yeah. I don’t exactly know how but yeah! Thanks <3333”

Word count: 927

gif is not mine.

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The Incident™

Rated: Explicit
Word count: 2673
Summary: Being roommates for as long as they had been, they really should’ve seen this coming before now… OR she saw his, then he saw hers, then they did something about it.

Thanks to @cutiepiemish who helped beta 😊

-
The Incident™

Betty was exhausted. She had just finished her fourth twelve hour shift in a row- “a story never sleeps, Elizabeth,” her mother would say- and she was so excited for her head to hit the pillow she could hardly see straight.

That’s probably why she didn’t hear the shower running when she entered her apartment, that’s probably why she didn’t notice the dirty clothes sticking out of the slightly open bathroom door, and that’s also probably why she didn’t register that her very handsome, very wet, very naked roommate was getting himself out of the shower and reaching for his towel when she barged in, until it was infinitely too late.

He screamed. She screamed. Neither of them moved. He was frozen in all his toned, lithe glory, completely exposed before her and she was equally frozen staring, embarrassed while simultaneously sending thanks to whatever gods happened to be on her side.

After several moments spent suspended in time, Betty broke the silence. “JUGGIE! Oh my god, I am so so so so so so sorry!”

It was as if her words snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. He scrambled for his towel to cover himself in order to preserve whatever modesty he still had. She tried to cover her eyes and step out of the steamy room to give him the illusion of privacy.

“It’s okay, Betts,” he assured her. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me almost naked before anyway, right?”

“Haha, yeah.” Except she hadn’t almost seen him naked. You’d think so, because they’ve lived together for the duration of most of their adult lives, but she had done very well at giving him the space she knew a twenty-something guy would want. She was his roommate, not his girlfriend.

The closest to naked she’d seen before that night was probably him sans shirt after a hard day of work with Archie and his father at the construction company. She’d never even seen him in his boxer briefs and absolutely never without his beanie.

“Okay, so I’m just gonna… go to my… room now. Okay?” He said, awkwardly trying to shuffle past her.

“Um, yeah. I’m just gonna… go to bed.” She forwent any bathroom usage and buried herself in her pillows, embarrassment and all.

-

She tried so hard to pretend that night never happened. Really, she did. Except she had always found Jughead attractive and after you see a body like his with a face like his and hair like his, it’s really hard to pretend you didn’t see a thing. So she avoided him the next day, and the day following that, until she was finally able to meet with Veronica.

“V!” Betty whined, shoving her face into a pillow, willing it to smother her shame. When that didn’t work she continued: “What do I do now? I mean, we’ve been roommates forever! You and Archie have known us forever! Did I just disrupt the dynamic of the Core Four? WHAT DO I DO?!”

Veronica struggled to hold in her laughter. Leave it to Betty Cooper to feel guilty about seeing a gorgeous man in all his glory, as if Jughead would mind. He’s only loved her for forever. “Uh, B? First thing’s first; get a hold of yourself. Secondly, you are aware that to Jug you may as well have hung the sun in the sky, right? He’s in love with you, sweetie.”

Betty rolled her eyes at Veronica’s suggestion. Seriously, she and Jughead had lived together for almost six years. If he showed any interest in her the way she had in him, surely he would have said something by now. Veronica continued despite Betty’s stubborn denial. “You should give him a peek, B. It’s only fair.”

“What.” Betty replied using a statement rather than a question. She could hardly believe Veronica would suggest such a thing. “How in the hell would you suggest I give him a ‘peek’ exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Use your imagination. You don’t even need to tell him if you aren’t comfortable with it.” She paused, tapping a well-manicured fingernail against her chin. “Oh! I got it! Sometime when you know he’s home, run out of your bedroom in your lacy cheeky lingerie set. You know the one. When he sees you, pretend you didn’t think he was home and voila! Everyone is even and the two of you can bang and get it out of your system. Or marry him. Whichever”

Betty laughed. Whether Veronica was joking or not (Betty had a feeling she was not), she thought that her idea might actually work. It would, at the very least, help Betty feel less guilty.

The two women spent the rest of the afternoon discussing mundane topics while simply enjoying one another’s company before Veronica left for her and Archie’s apartment. “See you soon, B. And if you follow through, you better provide me with all the deets!” She spun with a flourish and took off towards the elevator down the hall.

-

That night Betty dreamt of smooth skin glistening with slick moisture sliding over her own warm, bare body, fingers exploring uncharted territory and tongues warring with one another through deep, intoxicating kisses. It was a really great dream and she most definitely did not want to wake up.

-

Betty, wearing her finest lacy lingerie set- light blue cheeky panties with a matching bra and garter- checked herself over in her floor-length mirror. Her bedroom door was closed and the rest of the apartment empty for the time being, though Jughead was due home any minute. She had a plan. She would hear him come in, put her earbuds in her ears, and strut her stuff “accidentally” in front of her roommate, feigning ignorance to the fact that he would be home at all.

She turned so that her butt was facing the mirror. Did she look alright? Would he think she was attractive? A very big part of her hoped so.

She finally heard the apartment door open then close again. She took a deep, centering breath and put the earbuds in their designated positions before turning on her playlist and heading out of her room.

She was disappointed, however, to find that he was nowhere to be seen. She could’ve sworn she heard the door though. She walked through their apartment and yanked her earbuds from her ears. “Juggie?” No answer. His bedroom door was closed, though, indicating he had probably gone straight there. Still avoiding the awkwardness, no doubt.

Well, Betty couldn’t exactly just barge into his room unannounced and nearly nude, could she? No. She went back to her room and threw some leggings on with a comfortable tee and ventured to the kitchen to dig up some lunch.

As she was standing at the stove watching her burgers sizzle, she heard Jughead’s door open. “Whatcha makin’, Betts?” He asked, leaning over her shoulder to get a better look.

“Your favorite, Jug. Grab some plates?” If this was the most normal they had been in several days, she would take it without complaint, despite her plan not having worked the way she would have liked.

She flipped the burgers and checked on the fries which were finishing up in the air fryer as Jughead brought two plates over. They worked together to finish their lunch, then sat down to enjoy.

-

After their lunch that day, everything seemed to be back to normal, except Betty found Jughead wore less clothing and more confidence around her. She both loved and hated this new version of him.

He was pretty much constantly in shorts if not his boxer briefs alone. No shirt. No beanie. His body wasn’t incredibly built, but more defined and toned with hidden hills and valleys of muscle. He had the body of someone who was much stronger than they appeared.

Betty really liked it.

But for the length of their friendship and their roommate status, he’s been boxed up in Betty’s mind as Jughead: Friend and Roommate and Totally Off Limits. This new Jughead made fitting into that box in Betty’s mind incredibly difficult.

She tried her hardest to ignore that feeling deep in her belly that suggested she needed a new box for him.

-

Betty was late as hell. She had a 20 minute commute to work and less than ten minutes before she was due to start. She was floundering around trying to find a damn shirt when she looked at the clock. She was so fired after today.

“FUCK!” She yelled as she started digging deeper… nothing she picked up looked as though it would fit or look right and she was about to break down and cry.

“Betty?” Jughead asked as he opened her door. “Are you… Naked! Oh god you’re naked fuck Betts I’m so sorry…” he was staring. Not covering his eyes. Apologizing, yeah, but made no move to correct his error before Betty grabbed the nearest thing she could find to cover herself. His eyes darkened.

“Hi, Jug,” she said, her voice a mixture of embarrassment and something… else. Satisfaction, perhaps, that her plan was carried out after all despite it coming into fruition in a completely unexpected and inconvenient way.

“Call off work, Betty.” He told her. It wasn’t a request but rather a very serious demand.

“Why?” She asked, noticing but trying her best to ignore the sultry look in his eye.

“Just… Do it. Please.” And with that, he turned and headed for his own room.

-

He was only gone a few moments before returning to her bedroom just as she was hanging up her phone. She, much to his dismay, had thrown a baggy shirt over herself in his absence.

“Did they take it well?” He asked her, the dark features of his face still taking in the parts of her that remained exposed.

“They said I deserved a day after all the extra hours I’ve put in. I’m off the hook.”

“Excellent,” he muttered as he strode toward her bed. “May I sit?”

She shifted to make room for him. In doing so, the hem of her shirt reached a dangerous position, nearly baring her to his hungry gaze. She could have sworn she heard him whimper, though he would deny it she was sure.

“So… That happened.” She laced her fingers together and placed her hands in her lap willing her forced, awkward smile to get the hell off her face.

“That it did. So. You saw mine and I saw yours.”

“Yep,” she replied, her lips audibly popping at the end of the word.

“And what should we do about that, Betty?” He asked, clearly suggesting he already had an idea of what he’d like to do. She blushed from her chest to her forehead. He tossed a devastatingly handsome smirk in her direction.

“Listen, Juggie. We’ve been roommates forever and more importantly friends. Whatever happens here today, let’s not forget that, okay?” Ever the voice of reason, Betty needed to say it.

Jughead nodded and she pounced.

-

She brought her hands to either side of his face and brought her lips to his in a bruising kiss, which he eagerly returned. His hands found her waist with ease as he pulled her onto him so that she straddled his lap, allowing their bodies easier access to one another.

“You know, you’re really sexy under all those layers, Juggie,” Betty said between breaths.

He let out a small chuckle. “Your body is incredible, Betts. Incredible.” His mouth connected with hers again, tongues tasting one another, before he added, “Your legs go on for days.”

Her mouth moved from his over to his jawline where she nipped, eliciting a growl from his chest which she was very eager to hear again. Her lips traveled from his jaw to his ear, down to the thick tendon in his neck.

His hands roamed her body as she tasted his skin. He filed away the hills and valleys of her form over her clothing before he grabbed the hem of her shirt and silently requested permission by tugging at it.

Betty nodded, permission granted.

She broke away from the spot she had been lavishing on his collarbone so that he could remove the only thing separating his hungry gaze from all of her. He tossed the offending article to the ground before bringing his hands to her breasts with a soft groan of appreciation.

“Betts, you’re perfect.” He lowered his mouth to one of her nipples while finding the other with his thumb. She rolled her hips over him in response.

“Are we really doing this, Jug?”

“Fuck, yes, Betty Cooper. Absolutely.”

“Excellent,” she replied before shoving herself off his lap. She kneeled beside him and encouraged him to help her remove his boxers. As he did so, she wasted no time feeling his impressive length. “I’ve wanted to do this since the day I saw you,” she said.

“Do wha-” Before he could finish his question, her mouth had descended. He uttered wordless praise and wound his fingers into her golden locks as she worked him with both her mouth and hand until he could hardly stand it.

He gently, and reluctantly, pulled her off him before he could finish. “Your turn,” he whispered urging her to lay before him.

He nudged her legs open. Starting at her feet, he softly drug his fingertips up her legs, approaching her inner thighs but he completely bypassed where she wanted him the most. He could see her desire, yet he couldn’t resist teasing.

He brought his mouth to her breast where he nibbled and kissed her nubs until she was practically panting his name, begging for his touch.

“What do you want, Elizabeth?”

“Your mouth, your fingers, your dick… just you. All of you. Please.”

He smiled before dropping his fingertips to her center. She was so wet, he had to taste her. Once his head was nestled between her legs, her fingers found his unruly black strands where she held on for the ride.

His tongue danced around her sensitive bundle of nerves while his fingers pumped in and out of her, quickly unraveling her to a shaking mess. “Juggie, I’m so close,” she sighed. He quickened his pace until he felt her come undone. He slowly worked her through it before bringing his lips up to hers where he allowed her to taste herself.

Before she had a chance to say or do anything, Jughead had already procured the condom he must have brought from his bedroom and stashed somewhere in the bed and was rolling it onto himself. He lined up with her entrance and paused.

“Are you sure?” He asked

“Just do it, please! No more teas-ah!”

He thrust into her causing her words to get caught in her throat. He allowed her to adjust to his size for a moment before slowly pulling almost all the way out. Again he paused and after a moment pushed back in. Both Betty and Jughead became lost in the pleasure of it along with one another.

Through it all, their lips kept finding each other and hushed whispers were passed between the two of them. Why did we wait so long, you feel amazing, Juggie, please don’t ever stop, and I think I might love you along with I think I might love you too.

She shattered first, her inner walls fluttering around him causing him to tumble after, coming with her name on his lips.

-

“That was… wow.” Betty said.

“You bet it was,” Jughead replied as he laid back down beside her.

They sat in comfortable silence for several moments before he asked, “So where does this leave us, Betts?”

Her face lit up with a dazzling smile. “Well Forsythe, as long as you never call me Elizabeth again, you’re never getting rid of me.”

He smiled that kind of smile reserved for the best moments in life before wrapping himself around her. “You got it, Betts.”


-

Please let me know what you think! 💛💙

Every Single Companion Condemns Anders for the Chantry Explosion
  • Alistair: “You... You killed all of those people! All of those women and children, and Priests and Templars who were just there to guard some finger bones! And now what? You’re going to watch a bunch of other mages take the blame for it and get slaughtered? Do you really think you’re making anyone’s life better by doing that? No, don’t answer that. It’s time for you to just die.”
  • Loghain: “Funny. I’ve just watched you murder all those innocents, and I don’t even hate you. Outrage is a luxury for younger men, I suppose. I actually think I understand you. I know what it is to try so hard to protect something that you destroy it without even noticing. I’m doing you a favor, right now, as a young hero once did me a favor. I regret merely that I can’t do it as kindly as it was done to me; you do have to die.”
  • Oghren: “I knew I never trusted you. Squirrelly little mage. The Commander should’a given you to the Templars! I’ve done some messed up things in my life, aye, but I’ve never bombed a bunch of orphans! Killin’s all I know how to do, but ‘least when I kill you, I’ll know it’s the right thing to do.”
  • Shale: “I find it hard to be upset about the deaths of a few hundred humans. Humans are always dying; perhaps they should stop making you all so squishy. It will squish nicely, though, I think. I understand that it has done this in order to unleash even more mages upon society. Decent mages exist, but only a small quantity, as I think it has just proved. No, best to squish it, and its little revolution, and call it a day.”
  • Sten: “I must thank you. During my time in the south, I have met mages who lead honorable lives despite their lack of faith in the Qun. Never before have I met such an obvious example of why the Prophet Koslun demanded additional submission from the saarabas. Your kind are dangerous, and when I return to Par Vollen, I will tell the Arvaarad of what you have done, and they will tell the saarabas, so that the saarabas might better understand the weight of and the need for their sacrifice. Know then, that your death will inspire young saarabas to choose glory under the Qun rather than misery and death in their doubt. This is more comfort in your final moments than you deserve, but I offer it, regardless.”
  • Leliana: “Grand Cleric Elthina? But Justinia spoke so highly of her! Why would you do this?! You are a Grey Warden, sworn to abstain from politics. You do not even live in a Circle anymore! Everything Most Holy has done--everything Cassandra and I have done--to keep this under control... You just... blew it all up! And there is only one way to mitigate the damage. You have to die.”
  • Zevran: “Ah... Far be it from me to make a moral argument against murder, but this seems a tad artless. Perhaps even tactless. How do you know who was in or around that building at the time, or who might even now be burning to death in one of the resulting fires or trapped under a Darktown landslide, where she will die a slow, agonizing death while awaiting a rescue that will never come? You don’t know, of course. You couldn’t. Which makes this... rather less of an assassination and more of an indiscriminate slaughter, something that even the Crows did not allow. As you die, remember that you have fewer morals than the Antivan Crows.”
  • Morrigan: “How utterly pathetic. You had many opportunities to strike at your real enemy, but instead you struck at an impotent old woman, like a coward. And now you expect these Circle mages to fight your battle for you, in your name, as if what you’ve done is a rallying cry rather than a death sentence? Hmph. I will live to see the Circles fall. You, however, shall not.”
  • Wynne: “I remember you. The boy with such a talent for healing, who squandered what could have been a bright future in the Circle out of spite. We used to feel sorry for you, you know. Irving in particular always tried to be so gentle with you. I hope you realize that what you’ve done will weigh on more consciences than yours. The least I can do is make sure Thedas knows that the Circle that produced you also stopped you.”
  • Aveline: “Don’t! Whatever it is you were going to say, just don’t. There is no justification for this that could ever make it okay. I should have turned you in years ago. I didn’t, because the refugees needed you and because I was trying to be a good guard captain for the mages. Unfortunately, I’m not the one that paid for that mistake. The least I owe your victims now is justice. You’ll die for this.”
  • Carver: “Are you insane?! You can’t possibly think that helped?! Grand Cleric Elthina wasn’t the bad guy! I’m not even sure there *is* just one bad guy, but I know it wasn’t her. She was one of the few who just wanted to help. Everyone. And now she’s gone, and that’s exactly what you wanted. You don’t know as much as you think you do about Templars, Anders. Sometimes, I wonder how much you really know about mages. But it doesn’t matter now, because my duty is clear. You have to die for this.”
  • Fenris: “There is nothing to say. Death is the only thing left for you.”
  • Isabela: “I... Look... Shit, Anders, what were you thinking? We’ve talked about this before: about justice, and all that bollocks. You hurt innocent people, so now they deserve justice. I’m probably the last person who should be doling out justice, but here we are. I just hope you think this was worth your death. And theirs.”
  • Varric: “Oh, Blondie... It didn’t have to be like this. You killed innocent people, and destroyed who knows how many other lives. You’re not the man I thought you were. I guess that makes what I have to do next a little bit easier...”
  • Sebastian: “Your death will never be enough, but it’s a start.”
  • Bethany: “How could you do this?! The Circle never wanted this to come to all-out war, with so many innocent people dead and an army of Templars descending upon us! This wasn’t your decision to make. If you wanted to help, you should have TALKED to Orsino, and--You know what, forget it? You didn’t want to help, did you? Not the mages of Kirkwall, anyway. It makes for a better narrative if the largest Circle in the Free Marches is slaughtered, sacrificed for your narrative. I can’t let you do that; not to the Kirkwall Cirlce, and not to anyone else. This ends here, Anders. I’m only sorry it has to end like this; we could have worked together and found a non-violent solution, if only you’d reached out.”
  • Merrill: “Anders, you know there were people in that Chantry, right? That doesn’t sound like justice to me. And if it was vengeance, it wasn’t very good vengeance, since it hardly killed any Templars, and killed a lot of people that weren’t Templars! I’m sorry, Anders, but that spirit of yours is out of control. I can’t let you do this anymore.”
  • Blackwall: “Huh. Dare I even ask what your justification for this was? No. I don’t. All murders have their justifications. One day you wake up and realize that it was all just lies you told yourself so you could sleep at night. Maybe you really do think you’re helping; that lives have so little value that they can just be sacrificed to some greater cause. Maybe it’s a mercy for me to kill you before you can realize the truth.”
  • Cassandra: “The situation in Kirkwall has been out of control for some time, but your actions will only serve to make everything worse! The suffering of innocents has gone on for too long! All who fight against peace must be stopped!”
  • Iron Bull: “You know what I really came to hate during my time in Seheron? ASSHOLES WHO BLOW UP BUILDINGS FULL OF CIVILIANS! I don’t care if you’re Tal-Vashoth, Fog Warrior, Vint, or whatever the Hell you are, if you do that, you’re an asshole, and when I meet assholes, I kill them.”
  • Sera: “Oi, mage-tit, do. you know how many innocent people you just killed for your stupid war?! If you wanted to attack the Knight-Commander, you should have just attacked the Knight-Commander. Stupid! This is why no one trusts mages. ARROW TO THE FACE.”
  • Cole: “I used to think that I could free mages with death. When they’re dead, you don’t hear the pain anymore. Sometimes the silence is worse, though. It’s silent in the Chantry but the rest of the city is screaming. You’re screaming too. It won’t stop when I kill you, but it will be quieter. Better.”
  • Dorian: “Hm. A bit of fire, grandiose speeches, and a mage sacrificing people for his own political agenda. This feels downright homey. I detest when the south feels homey. You know, it’s times like this that I wonder: Is it true that if you give mages an inch, we’ll take a mile? Is my homeland the inevitable consequence of mage freedom? I don’t want to believe that. There has to be a way for mages and non-mages to coexist as equals. But as long as men like you are about, we’re not going to find it, so I know what I have to do.”
  • Vivienne: “Shall I even bother to point out the irony of you using magical talents you honed at the Circle to bring about their downfall, or would that go over your head, just as the fact that your actions here tonight will only serve to turn the people of Thedas against mages did? There were abuses in this Circle, certainly, but only an idiot or an Abomination would think that the solution was to murder innocents and provoke a slaughter. Whichever you are, you are a danger to others, and the people *will* see a mage put you down.”
  • Solas: “An interesting way of achieving justice. You look at a world where the Chantry violently oppresses mages, and decide to give it even more ammunition. I know much of rebellion. A good one takes years to plan, and starts not with an explosion but with a ripple. All you’ve done is throw unprepared mages throughout Thedas on the scant mercy of angry mobs. Perhaps you meant well, but that hardly changes the fact that the mages are better off without you.”
  • Cullen: “Maker help me. I never wanted to see the Kirkwall Circle annulled, and now you’ve guaranteed it by pushing this conflict to its breaking point. Perhaps the Knight-Commander was wrong--IS wrong--but so are you, and I must stop you in order to have any chance of stopping her.”
  • Josephine: “All that innocent life, destroyed for a war that most of them had nothing to do with... I do not enjoy being in this position, but I cannot stand by and let the slaughter of innocents go unpunished. You, Anders, have to pay for your crimes.”
2

@theskittypink @temsik

ah yes, the feys. these are both amazing ideas!! i was thinking maya would make a pretty good necromancer, but uh… now i’m pretty indecisive. just go with whichever one you like better, i guess!

tips for choosing a college

This is a really exciting time for high school seniors/transfer students who are getting accepted to universities! But now it’s time for the most stressful part: deciding which school to go to. I was in the exact same place last year that you are in right now and I thought I would share some tips for making this difficult (but exciting!) decision.

Research, research, research. Online resources are the best. On the school’s official website, look at their course catalogs and major requirement sheets. If you’re coming in undeclared, look at their list of majors and see if you think they have enough options you’re interested in exploring. 

Also think about what it will be like to be a student at that school. Don’t only focus on the practical stuff like rankings and academics.  Look at the student orgs, events, and student resources. Follow their social media accounts (especially Instagram and Snapchat) to get a sense of the school’s vibe. You can even creep a lil and look at current students’ posts to see the campus through their eyes. Search for YouTube videos as well. There might be some vloggers who go to the school you’re interested in and you can see the day in the life of a student.

Take tours! Attend any admitted student days or come to campus for a regular tour. This is soooo important. You will get to learn about the school from an actual student and they will tell you more than you could ever find online. At the very least, walk around the campus yourself a little bit to get a feel for it. If for whatever reason you can’t go to campus before you have to choose, contact the admissions office and ask for some extra info. They might even put you in contact with a student who is in your major who you can talk to.  

Once you have narrowed it down to a couple schools, ask people which one they think you should go to. I did this and realized that whenever they told me a different school than UCSB (which I ended up going to) I would feel disappointed. I would always be like, “But why not UCSB?” You could also do the same thing by pulling names out of a hat. Think that whichever one you pick out, you will go to and see how you feel about it. While choosing a school should definitely be about academic opportunities and other practical factors such as financial aid, I think your gut feeling should play a role as well.

Do not worry about what other people will think. Everyone has an idea of what certain schools are like. It might have to do with rankings or other reputations that the school might have, but try to disregard that as much as possible and form your own opinions. Don’t worry if people don’t think the school is good enough or anything like that. After all, you are the one who will be going there for years, not them. 

Think about distance! I definitely underestimated how important this was for me. Consider how often you plan on going home. If you’re going to go home every weekend, a local school will probably work best in the long run. If you’re the total opposite and plan on rarely going home, a school much farther away will probably work out well for you. 

Talk to current students if you can. Reach out to alumni from your high school or community college who currently go there. If you do stop at the school for a visit, feel free to stop some students for directions then ask how they like going to school there. Check if there are any studyblrs who go to the schools you were admitted to (me if you were admitted to UCSB) and ask them any questions you have. 

So those are all the tips I can think of right now. Enjoy this time in your life because it is so exciting and you have so many options. If you have any questions about college or UCSB feel free to send me an ask! Good luck, and congratulations!

zelinxia  asked:

I also like to joke, along with SAILOR MOON, that Kurogane is Batman, because i know in some versions Batman has aversions to bats. FWR's symbol is bats and Kurogane has reasons to become a vigilante.

SOUNDS ACCURATE ENOUGH TO ME. 

anonymous asked:

You are brilliant!!!! The idea of doing a crossover between MK and P5 is just brilliant.Please,please,please,I would like to see Kaito and Saguru transformed.It will be awesome!!! Please,keep developing this crossover

Thank you! But I’m definitely not the first to come up with the idea of a P5 and dcmk crossover, I’m just merely hopping on the bandwagon when I see the chance to… Anyways, long post below the read more link. Took me a whole week to think of all this.

Keep reading

Cuddle Hotline // Kim Kibum

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the prompt: could I have a cuddle hotline key scenario? I was thinking that she’s like a culinary student and only cares about cooking and her friends are like “you need to get out there you’re lonely” so one of her friends orders her a cuddle buddy (key) but when he shows up she just sits him down at the table and makes him try her food and is like “give me an honest opinion so he does and he’s like “this is gross” and she actually really likes his honest opinions on her food so she asks her friend for the app and her friends are excited cause they think she’s enjoying it but actually she’s just using it to help improve her recipes but one day she’s like sad and really just wants someone to cuddle with so she calls key over and he’s like ready to eat but she says she just wants to cuddle today and he gets all cute and nervous because he actually started developing a crush on her -sunflower anon 🌻

words: 4427

category: fluff

author note: this is my first shinee request and it’s for kibum my bias!! i don’t know who you are sunflower anon, but i love you for requesting this. i immediately began thinking of dialogue and stuff bc i wanted to make it perfect.

- destinee

Originally posted by painkiipain

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You set down your perfected pasta in front of your two friends. “Eat this. I added fresh garlic instead of simple garlic salt. See if it makes a difference.”

Your closest friend, Chaeyoung, looked up at you. “Y/n, this is spaghetti. You have literally made ten batches of spaghetti and they all taste the same.”

You rolled your eyes, “They don’t taste the same. Trust me.”

Chaeyoung took a huge bite and pursed her lips, “Hmm. You know, you’re right. I can really taste the fresh garlic as opposed to the garlic salt.”

“Really?” Your eyes brightened as both of your friends rolled their eyes.

“No!” Chaeyoung said. “It tastes exactly the same, Y/n.”

Your other friend, Minho, furrowed his eyebrows as he pushed the plate away. “Honestly, I feel like I’m going to vomit if I see any more spaghetti. Why do you always spend your free time cooking?”

“Better yet, why do you always use up our free time by making us eat your cooking?” Chaeyoung said. “I could be on a date right now.”

“I could be working out, or studying,” Minho said, giving you a pointed look.

Ever since you were a child, you had wanted to be a chef. Whether or not it was helping your parents cook, or attempting to make your own sandwiches, you were always in the kitchen. The passion had come from your grandmother, who used to teach you how to make cookies from scratch. After seeing your first batch of cookies, you realized that you really enjoyed making creations. You enjoyed the look on people’s faces when they ate your concoctions. From that moment you knew you wanted to be a chef. You would be content the rest of your life to make food for other people. Your dream was to open a restaurant with five-star food at low prices so everyone could enjoy how amazing and artistic food could really be.

You were in your third year of culinary school, and your school was offering an amazing chance to your class. Whichever student could make the best menu would be offered the chance to study their fourth year in Paris, all expenses paid for. It was a dream to you, and you were working desperately to perfect a meal that would impress the judges and leave a lasting impression.

You slumped into one of the empty chairs and covered your face with your hands, moaning. “You guys are right. I’m never gonna win this scholarship with spaghetti. Maybe I’ll try sushi.”

Chaeyoung patted your head gingerly. “I think you need to take a break. When’s the last time you just took a rest day instead of cooking?”

“I haven’t,” you said. “I can’t afford to lose a day. Each day I fail is a day closer to the deadline and I have to make something to submit.”

“You need to sleep,” Minho said.

“No,” Chaeyoung denied. “You need a cuddle buddy. Look, there’s this app where you can pay for someone to come and give you cuddles. Studies show that cuddling with another human relaxes the soul.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t need a cuddle buddy, I need you guys to help me find the best dish.”

“C'mon, Y/n. You can’t deny that you’re lonely. Here, let’s download the app and look for some ideal partners.”

You ignored the two of them as they browsed through people, shouting out their likes and dislikes. Instead, you cleared the dishes and put them in your dishwasher, preparing to make your next meal.

“Oh! Look at him!” Minho suddenly shouted. “User Key-underscore-freak.

You snorted, “Anyone with the word “freak” in their username is not getting my address.“

“Too late,” Chaeyong said. “I sent him a message.”

“Why?” You darted over to look over your friends’ shoulders. You had to admit, the pictures were nice. It did state that he was only two years older than you, and he seemed to have an obsession with a certain pair of dogs. “How many pictures of his dogs is he going to post?”

Minho clicked out of his pictures and began to read out his likes and dislikes. “Likes: dogs, fashion, and theater. Dislikes: liars, ugg boots, and people who don’t like dogs. He sounds simple enough. His cuddle rate is high, too. Apparently a lot of people like to cuddle with him.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t want to cuddle him, no matter how high his rate is. Now, should I use salmon or tuna for my sushi?”

Chaeyoung suddenly squealed, “He wrote back! He’s open today! I’m asking him to come over!”

“Don’t!” you warned, “I have stuff to do today.”

Chaeyoung waved your concern away. “Minho and I will pay for it, okay? Just enjoy being in someone else’s presence for once instead of thinking about your next dish. Can you do that?”

You groaned and turned back to your fish, ignoring her. “Please don’t.”

“Too late. He’s coming in an hour. Minho and I will be leaving so the two of you can have some time to get to know each other.”

You grumbled the whole time you were making your sushi. You weren’t even paying much attention to what you were doing, and so you ended up making a pretty weird dish. Still, you set it out on the table. If someone was coming over to your house, you would ask them to try your dish. Cuddling could wait for another day.

The doorbell to your apartment rang, and you hesitantly made your way to the door. Finally, after a small mental pep talk, you swung the door open.

The man in front of you wasn’t too much taller than yourself, and he was rather nimble-looking, you felt. Nevertheless, his smile was open and warm as he held his hand out for you. “I’m Kim Kibum. You’re Y/n?”

He was wearing black skinny jeans and an oversized t-shirt, covered by a brown bomber jacket. His dark hair seemed styled and his skin felt moisturized and smooth as you accepted his handshake. A large duffle bag hung over his shoulder, and you felt more uncomfortable as you stared at it. “… that’s me.”

Kibum followed your gaze and let out a bark of laughter. “I just carry this around to put my pajamas, laptop, blanket, and pillow. Cuddling necessities, you know?”

You didn’t know. You had never cuddled with anyone in your life. You never really felt like you needed to. “Actually, can we not cuddle?”

Kibum furrowed his eyebrows and pouted his lips. “No cuddling?”

“Yeah. You see, I’m a chef and I really need someone to try my dishes.”

Kibum’s eyes brightened. “You’re a chef? Great, I haven’t eaten all day.”

He walked into your house and discarded his jacket and bag onto your sofa. “What’s on the menu?”

“Sushi,” you replied, running past him to grab the plate of food. You placed it on the table, along with a cup of water. “Tell me what you think about it. I want your honest opinion.”

Time seemed to stand still as Kibum put the sushi in his mouth. The more he chewed, however, the more his face turned into that of disgust. He swallowed thickly before giving you his verdict. “This is gross.”

You felt your spirit deflate. “Really? What’s wrong with it?”

Kibum have you a look of obvious disappointment, “Well, first of all, why did you stick scrambled eggs in your sushi roll? That’s nasty.”

Your nose scrunched. “I was distracted. It didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time.”

Kibum handed the plate back to you. “Who are you making a dish for anyway?”

“I’m trying to win a trip,” you explained as you dumped the bad sushi into the garbage can. “If I make a good enough dish, I’ll be allowed to study my final year of culinary school in Paris, France.”

“I love Paris,” Kibum said. “I’ve been a few times. You’re going to have to step up your game if you want to cook with the chefs of France, though. I hear they’re brutal.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I’ve just been distracted lately. I am a good cook, really.”

Kibum cocked his head to the side, “Looks like you’ll need to prove that, Honey, since your sushi was worse than the food I buy for my dogs.”

You frowned. “That bad, huh?”

Kibum nodded, “Sorry, Babe. Tell you what, why don’t I give you a dish and you make it for me? Do you think you can handle that?”

You rose your eyebrows. “Are you patronizing me, Kibum?”

“If the shoe fits.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I didn’t peg you as that type, Kibum.”

He smirked and looked up at you, “What type is that, Y/n?”

Rude,” you answered.

He laughed again, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he threw his head back. “You should get used to it, since we’re friends now. So… how about it?”

“Give me a dish and I’ll make it perfect.” You pursed your lips, “Then you won’t underestimate me.”

Kibum smiled and sat back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling and humming to himself, “You know, my friend took me to this really expensive restaurant in New York last year. Maybe I can remember my favorite dish there. Let’s see… oh yeah! Arctic char, leeks, green olives and smoked potato. If it’s even close to what I had last year, I’ll believe that you’re a cook.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You’re on.”

“Wait. You actually have Arctic char in your fridge?” Kibum looked impressed.

“Surprisingly, yes. I bought a ton of different ingredients this week for trial and error. That includes all the fish present at the market,” you said as you turned to your stove.

Kibum stood up as you grabbed a clean saucepan from its hook. “You know how to make it?”

“I’ve been studying culinary arts since I was a child, Kibum. A few smoked potatoes aren’t going to faze me.” A sudden confidence took over your presence, and Kibum found himself smiling at the way you assertively cut and rinsed your ingredients. “In fact, I think you’ve given me the surge of energy I needed to work on my dish. Who knows? This could be the winning one.”

Kibum stood up and leaned on the counter to watch as you seasoned the fish. “You should put your hair up.”

You looked up at him, pouting as you realized your bangs were falling into your face. “You’re right. Let me wash my hands—”

“I’ll do it,” Kibum interrupted you, moving around the counter till he stood behind you. He pulled the hair tie out of your ponytail and fixed your hair into a tight bun on top of your head. “There you go. Now there’ll be no hair in your char.”

You giggled. “Thanks, Kibum. Now go sit while I finish this up.”

“Yes Ma'am.”

-

You held your clasped hands against your lips in anticipation as you watched Kibum taste the dish in front of him. You were hoping with all your heart that he would like it. For some strange reason, his opinion meant a lot to you, and you were desperate for his honest approval.

Kibum chewed slowly, perhaps to spite you. His eyes were void of emotion, erasing any guess you could have about how he liked the food. Suddenly, his lips quirked into a smile. “It’s okay.”

“How is it okay?” you asked. “Which part of it is okay? What could I change? Would it get me a trip to Paris?”

Kibum blinked. “Well, for starters, it won’t get you to Paris. It’s good though. Very similar to what I had in New York. The potatoes aren’t smoked enough, and the leeks were a but soggy, but the char is excellent. I’d keep it for your protein.”

You broke out into a smile. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kibum nodded. “So now all you need are side dishes.”

“I also need a dessert,” you clarified.

Suddenly, a beeping came from Kibum’s pocket, causing both of you to jump. “Oh. That’s the two hours you paid for. We didn’t get to cuddle, but I had a lot of fun.”

You grinned. “Me too. Thanks, Kibum.”

“No problem, Babe. See you later.”

-

Kibum must’ve thought it was you who contacted him, since he assumed you’d do it again. Unfortunately, you had no idea what app Chaeyoung had used, nor how to contact Kibum again.

The thing was, you had been perfecting recipes for vegetable side dishes for the past week, and you were dying to have Kibum taste them. So, with no other choice, you swallowed your pride and asked Chaeyoung for the name of the app.

“You like him!” was her first assumption.

“I do not,” you retorted, “The… cuddling was nice, is all.”

Chaeyoung smirked, “The app is called Cuddle Me. You remember his username, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at her as you downloaded the app. “Yes. Now leave me alone.”

-

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Kibum smirked as you opened the door to your apartment. “I’ll admit, I thought you wouldn’t invite me over again. I thought you might’ve found someone else to try your mediocre recipes.”

“Mediocre? Yeah, right.” You noticed he had, yet again, brought his duffel bag. However, he obviously didn’t intend on using it since he threw it onto your couch as soon as he entered.

“I’m ready to eat soggy vegetables!” he announced.

“Stop hating on food you haven’t even eaten yet!” you whined, following him into the kitchen.

Kibum laughed gingerly and sat at the counter. “Pass the plate, honey.”

“Okay, today I made mushrooms à la bordelaise, Mediterranean baked sweet potatoes, eggplant skins stuffed with veggie risotto, and caramelized balsamic cipollini onions.”

“Marry me,” Kibum said as he stared at all the dishes you placed in front of him. He licked his lips as he looked at the tantalizing food.

You blushed at his praise. “Don’t get too excited. You haven’t tried them all yet. I need you to tell me if I can use any of these as my side dishes.”

“Get me a fork and I’m yours,” Kibum stated.

While he ate the dishes slowly, with the meticulousness of an actual food critic, you asked him about his interests. “You said you were into fashion?”

“I am,” he said. “I’m a fashion designer, and my company is just starting to get the recognition it deserves.”

“Really? What’s your company?” You were genuinely interested in his life, as he seemed so lively and sure of himself.

Kibum put down his fork and smacked his lips, thinking. “Designs by Key. It’s a newer company, since we got it up and running smoothly just this past year. I’ve tried a lot of different paths, but my newest line is getting a lot of attention. My goal is to make women’s clothes that women actually want to wear.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows turned up in confusion.

Kibum chuckled, “Not that you would know, since your wardrobe seems to consist of simply jeans and t-shirts, but in the high fashion world, lots of women’s clothes are created without the woman’s best interests in mind. You’d like this: in my line, girls get usable pockets in their jeans and skirts. We’re also working on a range of clothes fit to perfection for each different female body shape. I have a lot of female friends and colleagues and they explained to me that clothes don’t always fit properly, especially when the ratio size of breast to waist is really different. So, we’re working to make a line based on nearly customizable clothing for females. My ultimate goal is to make everyone feel comfortable in their own skin, through fashion.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “That’s so cool. Call me when your designs go on sale, okay? I’ll buy one of everything.”

Kibum nodded, “Only if you call me when you open your restaurant so I can sample the entire menu. These side dishes are pretty great. I would choose the mushrooms and the eggplants, personally.”

You clapped your hands together, “That’s perfect! I’ll make stuffed eggplant skins for the appetizer, char and mushrooms for the entree, and then a dessert! Then that ticket to Paris is as good as mine.”

“You’ll invite me over to try out the dessert, right?”

“Of course,” you said with a playful roll of your eyes. “You know Kibum, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like hanging out with me.”

Kibum laughed, but you caught the pink tint that crept onto his cheeks. “Honey, I think you’re mistaking yourself with your cooking.”

“Why do you keep calling me honey and babe?”

“Instinct, I guess. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

“No,” you denied softly, “It’s fine.”

-

“Okay, so I have green tea custard, dark chocolate mousse with almonds, strawberry cheesecake, and hazelnut pie with spiced ice cream.”

Kibum hummed as he stared at all the dishes. “You’re too good to me, Y/n.”

You sat beside him, nibbling on an untoasted strawberry poptart and checking the made-up menu you had created in your phone notes. You would enter your menu tomorrow, a day before the scholarship deadline. Everything was perfect, and all you had to do was get Kibum to choose a dessert.

Kibum put a spoonful of the mousse into his mouth and clapped slowly. “This is everything. A bit bitter, so maybe add some brown sugar or something to sweeten it, but other than that it’s everything.”

He finished the mousse peacefully, enjoying the dessert freely as he scrolled through his phone. “Do you wanna see my dogs?”

“I already saw them on the app,” you answered, “but I guess I can see them again.”

Kibum scoffed, “You guess? Good grief, Y/n, at least try to act excited as I show you my pride and joys.”

“Sorry,” you giggled, leaning closer to him so you could see his phone screen.

“This one is Comme Des and this one is Garçons,” he explained. He then explained to you their favorite foods to eat, places to sleep, and clothes to wear.

“You dress your dogs? Isn’t that considered abuse?”

Kibum looked offended. “Abuse? They love being dressed up, trust me. Oh! Idea!” He suddenly perked up, turning to face you, “You should make your own gourmet dog food line!”

You deadpanned. “No. That’s an insult to my passion.”

Kibum pouted. “My babies would love it.”

“Just eat your cheesecake.”

Kibum chuckled and obeyed, complimenting your skills as he continued to stuff his face.

In the end, Kibum stayed by the mousse, and wished you luck that you would get that scholarship. “We could even meet up in Paris. You, a renowned chef and me, a famous fashion designer. Together we can conquer the world.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want to be renowned. That’s not my goal. I want to make great food for people who can’t afford it. I won’t get very renowned for that.”

Kibum furrowed his eyebrows, “Sorry? Do you think people like paying and arm and a leg for their meals? Y/n, if you succeed in a restaurant like that, you’ll be the talk of the year in the culinary world. It’s a huge financial risk, considering you have nothing to start with, but you can easily make it up with the amount of customers you’ll get. Open sponsors spots as well, and have them pay to support your restaurant as long as you name a dish after them or something. Designs by Key can be your first proud sponsor of many as long as you name the chocolate mousse after me. You could go far with this one, babe.”

You picked at the hem of your shirt, a shy smile appearing on your face. Not even your closest friends gave you the confidence Kibum did in just a few visits. You felt close to him, and you were sure he felt close to you as well. There was a natural attraction there, as if the two of you knew each other in another life or something.

Shaking your head out of those thoughts, you reached forward and wrapped your arms around Kibum’s neck. He let out a noise of surprise, but eased into your hold rather quickly. “Funnily enough, you’d think touch wouldn’t fluster me with this little side job. Your touch is different, I guess.”

You felt your face warm at his soft-spoken words. Surely he didn’t mean it in the way you thought. He was just talking about the emotional aspect of two friends hugging. That’s what you told yourself, since you couldn’t think about anything more than that with the deadline so close.

Kibum was the first to pull away, but he planted his hands on your shoulders before he left. “Go get ‘em, babe. Show them your talent.”

He tapped your nose, and grinned when a giggle spilled out of your mouth. “Keep that smile, okay? You’ll do great.”

You nodded, feeling more sure of yourself. “Thanks, Kibum.”

“I’ve got you. Oh, and when you win, invite me over so we can eat the winning meal together,” he said with a confident wink.

-

You stared at the phone in your hands, contemplating whether or not to ask Kibum over.

The thing was, you had come in second place. Although that was great, and would look fantastic on your resume, it wouldn’t get you a ticket to Paris. You were disappointed in yourself, and you kept going over the menu, wondering how you could’ve made it better. You were sure Kibum would be disappointed with you too. He had been so sure that you would win, and when you told him the truth, he might think you didn’t try hard enough. You had. You had given that food your all and had been so sure that you would get the scholarship.

Unfortunately, things don’t always go to plan.

In the end, you really wanted some kind of comfort. Kibum was the only one you wanted it from, which wasn’t too surprising considering how close the two of you had gotten ins ice a short amount of time. Before you could second guess yourself, you sent him message, asking him to come over. After that, you muted your phone, unable to see his reply, which would more than likely imply that you won and he couldn’t to wait to congratulate you in person.

You groaned and shoved your face into your couch cushions. You weren’t ready to see his face.

-

Kibum could tell something was wrong as soon as you opened the door. Your makeup was smudged at the corners and your hair was messier than usual.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“I didn’t win, Kibum,” you said. “I did everything you said and did my best, but it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry.”

Kibum let out a breathy laugh, “Why are you apologizing? There are so many things more important than winning a scholarship.”

“Like what?” you frowned.

“Like, for instance, your skills grew as you practiced, and you stepped out of your comfort zone. Also, the most important thing is that you met me.” Kibum walked passed you, and with the usual toss of his bag he turned around, “So what do you say we cook together today? Something simple and tasty.”

You stared at Kibum’s raised eyebrows, unable to answer. You didn’t want to cook right now. In fact, all you really wanted was another one of Kibum’s hugs. “Actually… can we cuddle?”

Kibum’s ears turned red very quickly, but he covered up his flustered expression by licking his lips and turning his head towards his duffel bag. “No cooking? You just want to cuddle?”

You nodded, “You’re a good hugger so you have to be a good cuddler, right? I really need that right now.”

Kibum’s expression softened. “You got it, then. Let me change into some comfortable clothes.”

He returned quickly, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He opened his duffel bag and pulled out a large duvet. “I’m ready to cuddle!”

He sat down on the couch, his eyes on you as he patted his lap. “C'mere, babe.”

You accepted his invitation and curled up into his lap. He wrapped the blanket around the two of you and pushed your hair off of your face with his nimble fingers. “How’s this?”

“It’s perfect,” you mumbled, nuzzling your face into his chest. He smelt like honey and some kind of musk, and it made your heart stir with feelings that you had previously pushed down. “Kibum?”

“Yeah?”

You looked up at him, your cheek against his collarbone. He rubbed your hips gently as he waited for you to speak. “I think I like you.”

After your confession, you quickly ducked your head down, afraid to see his reaction. His fingers froze on your skin and soon you couldn’t feel the warmth of them on your skin.

You ruined it, Y/n, you told yourself. You should’ve just kept it in.

Then Kibum’s fingers were under your chin as he lifted your face towards his. “Really?” he questioned, his breath fanning your face as he leaned in closer.

You searched his eyes for any teasing, but there was only affection in his glassy brown eyes. “Yeah. I like you, Kibum. You make me feel confident. You make me feel like I can do anything I put my mind to, but you also give me a sense of warmth and comfort I’ve never received before.”

Kibum chuckled, “Honey, I’ve liked you since you made me eat that disgusting sushi.”

He was still in the midst of laughing when his lips reached yours. You cupped his face with your hand to bring him closer to you. Your own lips turned into a smile as you finally felt how soft his were. Kibum pulled away, “We have to stop smiling or we can’t kiss properly.”

You shrugged, biting your lip to try and stop the giddiness from showing on your face. “Sorry.”

Kibum pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “Don’t be. There will be plenty of times to kiss in the near future.”

He wriggled his eyebrows seductively, causing you to erupt into more giggles as you slapped his chest gently. “You’re stupid.”

“Well you’re dating stupid,” Kibum pointed out.

“Touché.”

~the end~

An hour ago, if somebody had told Jason that his night would get worse, he probably wouldn’t have believed them— it was bad enough already. He was back in Gotham (the second time since he’d crawled out of his own tomb), and he’d immediately run into one of the people he’d really, really been hoping to avoid.

“Oh,” the kid had said, “It’s you.”

That was all. He’d held his staff out warily too, which was reasonable, considering everything that had happened the last time the two of them had met. Honestly, Jason would have expected a stronger reaction. New kid was very calm.

Not so much anymore. 

Fear toxin. Jason knew the feeling. He was fine, of course— safe underneath his helmet— but Drake didn’t have that kind of cover, and he’d gone down quickly. He was lying in the alleyway, twitching quietly, and Jason didn’t really know what to do about it. 

It wasn’t his concern, was it? He didn’t ask Drake to show up. They weren’t working together— they’d met up completely by accident, chasing the same lead. This kind of thing happened sometimes; Lord knew Jason had been through enough of Crane’s fearscapes in his time. 

Which was making it really hard to leave, even though that was absolutely what he should be doing. Running. Before Batman showed up. 

“Dammit,” Jason muttered, bending over the other kid’s body. “Hey, listen— you gotta get back to the cave. I don’t have an antidote for this stuff. Can you walk?” Drake didn’t respond, so Jason reached out a hand, intending to shake him awake.

That did the trick— before Jason could make contact, the other kid pushed himself upright and dragged himself backwards, away from Jason and against the wall. He pulled his knees up to his chest.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Fine.” Jason could respect that. “Whatever. Go home. Can you make it by yourself?”

Drake’s eyes closed again— his hands, clasped around his legs, were shaking. Jason could hear him hyperventilating. He had about thirty seconds, Jason figured, before the hallucinations started, and that meant no, he couldn’t get home by himself. He wouldn’t be going anywhere. 

“Alright,” he decided. “I’ve got a bike a few streets over. I can carry you to the—”

“I said no.” Drake was struggling to breathe now, shuddering with the effort of it. His eyes were wide behind his mask. He scooped up his staff from the asphalt and leveled it at Jason, forcing him a few steps back down the street. 

“Get away from me.”

“Kid—”

“I said get away!” He stared at Jason, past Jason, blankly. The nightmares had started— who knew what he was seeing now? It could be anything. In a hellpit like Gotham, there were infinite options. 

But Jason needed to get him home, so he took a step forward and grabbed the end of the staff, trying to wrench it away. Drake didn’t take that well. 

“No!” He yanked back his staff and then jabbed it at Jason’s chest. “I’m sorry, okay! I didn’t mean to— I didn’t—” He was still gasping for air. “I was just trying to help. You were dead! How was I supposed to know you would—?”

Oh, Jason though, he’s still talking to me. I’m in his fearscape. Great.

“I thought he needed—”

Jason pulled the staff away and threw it behind him, back towards the mouth of the alley. “Yeah yeah, you thought he needed you. I get it.”

“He needed you. Next best thing.” Drake threw his arms in front of his head, trying to shield his face. “Please don’t…”

Christ. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Just… stay there for a bit. I’m backing away now. See?” Jason retreated up the alley with his hands held out in front of him. Maybe that would make Drake feel better.

What was he supposed to do? He wouldn’t be able to take Drake home himself, not if he was going to fight like that the entire way. He didn’t have many options. He could leave— he probably should leave. The toxin would wear off eventually. With all of the confusion, the other kid might not even remember that Jason was actually there— he would be another hallucination. 

Or. Jason pulled out his phone and stared at the empty screen. He could—
Dammit. Dammit. Fine. He chose the lesser of two evils and dialed. 

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Leo Valdez X Reader - So Many Things

Word Count: 1230

Summary: There were so many different things that Leo Valdez did with you that made you all happy and giddy inside. Here are 5 of the weirdly adorable things.


Number 1 - When Leo Would Surprise You With A Random Trinket:

“….And I really have no clue why he would think that I of all people would-” Your sister stopped speaking. “(Y/N), your boyfriend’s coming over. Like, he’s running over here frantically. He really is an idiot, isn’t he?” You rolled your eyes at her, spinning around.

“Yes, but he’s my idiot.” You walked over to meet Leo halfway, and he immediately encased you in a hug. He pulled away and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before holding something out to you.

“For you, my love,” he said with the cheesiest British accent a person could manage. You stifled a laugh and took the object.

“Thanks, Leo, it’s a really nice… uh…” You moved the object around in your hands, trying to find out what it was. Finally, your fingers brushed over a little button-like part, so you pressed it. Up popped a picture of the two of you. How he got such a thing, you had no clue, since you had never once posed for a picture with Leo. But he did, and it was beautiful. “Gods, Leo, this is amazing.”

Leo was smiling a huge smile. “I know. I call it the Valdezacator 2.0.” You closed it back up and gave Leo a big hug.

“You’re an idiot.”

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Stiles- I’ll Stay

Requests-  Heyy, could you do an imagine where y/n is a young werewolf (like 15) and she moves to beacon Hillis, but before she can even go to school or something, she get cought by hunter and they torture her for information (she doesnt heal though). And by the time she’s saved by the sheriff, she completere shuts down, and doesnt talk to anyone, but when Stiles sneaks in to talk to her, she talks back, because she feels like she can trust him. Btw you’re very talented😊💕  /  Liam/Stiles request: Where the reader is friends with the pack and has a crush on (Liam/stiles) and there is a powerful thunderstorm one night and she is afraid. However,(stiles/Liam) knows she is scared of them. Reader would call them but doesn’t want to, she is lonely but then (stiles/Liam) end up comforting reader and fluff!! (Pick whichever) :) thank you!!!

A/N- So I picked Stiles for the last one, and I think I did a good job of tying these two requests together. I’ve got one more request in the inbox to write.

“What’s up, Parrish?” Stiles asked, giving the front desk a friendly slap as he sauntered past it.
“Stiles, your dad’s in the middle of something right now,” Parrish greeted him. “He said you could wait out here and not to go in his office.”
Stiles paused and pivoted on his heel, looking back at Parrish. The Deputy was typing away at his computer, his green eyes no longer focused on the younger boy, and he frowned.
He leaned down and grabbed the screen, causing Parrish to raise his eyebrows at him. “Stiles, can I help you?”
“What kind of something?”
Parrish fixed him with a look that told Stiles he knew exactly what he was trying to do. “Something.”
Stiles tilted his head and feigned a wounded look. “So this is how it’s gonna be.”
“You know you don’t actually work here, right?”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Stiles told him, scratching his chin. “That’s funny, considering me and Scott solve most of the cases that come through here.”
Parrish stared at him, obviously unimpressed. “Stiles, sit down.”
Stiles sighed, dramatic and loud, and stalked over to sit in one of the chairs across from the front desk. “Fine.”
No sooner had he dropped down than the door to his dad’s office opened, and he jumped up from his seat.
“Dad!”
The Sheriff, who had been rubbing his head in his hands a second before, looked up. “Hey kid, I’m sorry about dinner. We’ve just got a lot going on right now.”
“Anything I can help with?” Stiles asked him.
Stilinski hesitated like he was considering it, but then said, “No.”
It was a split second of hesitation, but Stiles still caught it.
“Dad, come on,” he pleaded. “Is it something supernatural?”
“Keep your voice down,” his father hissed, pulling him closer. “Stiles, this doesn’t involve you.”
“But if I can help-”
His dad brought a hand to the back of his head, causing him to yelp. “Stiles, I said no.”
Stiles huffed. “Fine. Will you at least tell me if Scott can help?”
Stilinski pursed his lips. “Possibly. But she’s not talking right now, alright?”
“She?” Stiles asked, his interest piquing even more.
His dad glared at him, and looked toward the closed office door, but then he sighed.
“Clark responded to a call Downtown about an hour ago. A woman walking her dog heard a girl screaming from an abandoned house. Clark called out, heard someone running away, and when she finally got inside, she found a girl, lying on the ground. She was bloodied up and hurt, but when Clark tried to help her, she started to heal, and her eyes turned yellow.”
Stiles swallowed. “Is she okay?”
“She’s mostly healed,” the Sheriff told him quietly. “But she won’t say a word.”
“What?” Stiles asked. “Let me talk to her.”
“No,” his father told him firmly. “Absolutely not.”
“Then at least let me call Scott!”
“I’ll call Scott,” the Sheriff said. “For now, for the love of God, Stiles, just sit down.”
Stiles bit the inside of his cheek, glancing back at the office. “Fine. Fine, just call Scott.”
His father shot one last warning look at him before turning down the hall, and walking into an empty office to make the call. The minute he disappeared, Stiles glanced around the station carefully.
Parrish was still at his computer, typing away, and Clark was writing up a statement in the corner. The station was buzzing with officers refilling coffee or filling out paperwork, and no one seemed to take much notice of Stiles.
He slowly headed toward his dad’s office, shot one glance behind him to make sure no one was looking, and then slipped open the door.
He ducked inside, quickly shutting the door and nearly tripping on his own feet. He let out a relieved breath, and he heard a soft, weak laugh from behind him.
You probably wouldn’t have made a sound, if it hadn’t been for the way the boy had stumbled into the room. He was tall, brown-haired and seemed to have no grace or balance whatsoever.
Despite the terrible past couple of weeks and everything you had endured, you were relieved that you were still able to laugh about something. Then the guy whirled around at the sound, and you flinched back in your chair.
The Sheriff had left you there a few minutes ago, after he had given up trying to coax anything out of you. He seemed nice, but all anyone had done for weeks was press you for information, and even though you were safe now, you weren’t too keen on opening your mouth.
“Uh, hey,” the guy said. “Are you feeling okay?”
You didn’t answer, eyeing him carefully. He was wearing jeans and a tshirt, and from that display earlier, you knew he definitely wasn’t a cop.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “Well, uh, I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to be afraid or anything. My dad-he’s the guy who just left-is just trying to help. He knows about everything. You know, the werewolves, and the hunters and stuff. So you don’t need to be scared.”
You were still just staring at him, and he scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve also got this friend. His name’s Scott, and he’s an alpha-”
“No!” you yelled suddenly, tensing up.
“Wh-what?” Stiles choked, glancing over his shoulder in case anyone had heard you.
“No alpha!” you commanded. “I don’t want an alpha!”
“Okay, okay!” he whispered loudly. “Relax, I’ll just tell him to leave when he gets here.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “You will?”
“I will,” he told you. “I promise. But everyone out there…they’re really worried about you.”
You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, but Stiles kept talking. “The deputy who found you, Clark, she’s really concerned. She was hellbent on taking you to the hospital.”
“I don’t need a hospital,” you whispered, looking down at the wounds that had disappeared ages ago.
You picked at your blood-stained jeans and tried to avoid his eyes. They were sharp and curious, and you didn’t have the urge to be questioned and dissected like you were some sort of science project.
“I know that,” he continued. “And so does my dad. That’s why he told her no when she radioed in, but she’s still really worried.”
“She was nice,” you told him softly. “Tell her thank you?”
“You can tell her yourself if you want to,” Stiles told you gently.
Your frown deepened, and you shook your head. Stiles’ brow furrowed. “Is there a reason you’re not really talking? Are you afraid of someone?”
You shrugged, and he sighed and sat down on the couch across from you. He patted the spot next to him, and you raised your eyebrows at him.
“What?” he asked. “It’s more comfortable over here, just FYI. I can even switch with you if you want.”
You shook your head, and the boy simply shrugged and leaned back into the cushions.“I’m Stiles by the way.”
“Stiles?” you questioned.
He nodded. “Weird name, I know. But this is a pretty weird town.”
You nodded in agreement, and wrapped your arms around your knees. You were content to sit in silence, but Stiles let out a heavy breath. “God, I’m starving. Are you hungry?”
You shook your head again, but just as you did, your stomach growled in contradiction. Stiles raised his eyebrows. “I can get you something to eat if you want.”
You shook your head vigorously this time. You didn’t want him going out of his way for you. You didn’t even know him.
“What’s your name then?” he asked.
You glanced up, and he pursed his lips. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
You swallowed. “It’s Y/n. My name is Y/n.”
Stiles smiled, his lips twitching at the corners, and it occurred to you that you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often. “Pretty. Your name, I mean, not you. I mean, it’s not that you’re not pretty or anything. That’s not what I meant. You’re definitely pretty. Gorgeous, really, but, uh-”
You cut him off with another soft laugh. Your voice was hoarse and weak from screaming, but he could detect a hint of happiness in it. “I knew what you meant.”
“Oh,” Stiles said, his cheeks going red. “Right.”
“Your friend,” you whispered cautiously. “The alpha…what’s he like?”
“Pssh,” Stiles remarked. “He’s a dork, but he’s a good guy. Sometimes too good of a guy, but he’s strong too. He’s been through a lot. He’s done a lot for me…for this town.”
“Is he like you?”
“Do you mean ruggedly good-looking and charming?”
“No,” you told him plainly.
“You know, I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk,” he told you playfully.
You laughed and Stiles smiled. “You have a nice laugh.”
You blushed and leaned back in your chair, curling in on yourself. “I was just kidding before, you know. I like it when you talk.”
“I think you talk enough for the both of us,” you told him.
Stiles laughed once more. He had an infectious laugh, and soon you were giggling too. For the first time, it occurred to you that there was too much space between you and Stiles. You wanted to be close to him, to this boy who made you feel safe, even when a room full of police officers couldn’t.
That was when the door opened, and you flinched back as you saw the Sheriff walk in. He took one look at Stiles, and he swore he saw smoke coming out of his dad’s ears.
“Stiles,” he growled, grabbing him by his shirt and hauling him up.
“Wait, no dad-” he protested, but he was already being shoved out the door.
His dad slammed it in his face, and he was left standing there in the hall, with the eyes of the whole station on him. He sniffed, shifting at the pressure of the stares. “What are you looking at?”

Back in the office, you looked down at the floor.
“I’m sorry about that,” the Sheriff apologized to you. “My son is harmless, but he likes to stick his nose in things.”
You shook your head, not meeting his eyes. “He’s a good person.”
The Sheriff blinked, wide-eyed, and nearly dropped the mug of coffee he was holding. These were the first words he had heard you speak.
“He is,” he told you, his voice softening. “Did he talk to you?”
You smiled. “A lot.”
The Sheriff smiled, and slid down onto the sofa that Stiles had vacated. “He does that. Can’t get him to stop sometimes.”
You nodded, and the Sheriff sighed. “So, you wouldn’t happen to have anything to say to me would you?”
You shifted in your seat. “Stiles.”
The Sheriff blinked. “Sorry?”
“Stiles,” you repeated. “Please?”
His brow furrowed, fixing you with that same inquisitive look that Stiles had. He looks like his dad, you thought.
“Let me get this straight,” the Sheriff began. “You want my son in here? Are you sure?”
He was met with a vigorous nod, and then he slowly stood up and set his mug of coffee on his desk. “All right, but you asked for it.”
He walked over to the door of his office and pulled it open, only to have Stiles flop through the doorway and right onto his feet. The Sheriff glared at his son, who had obviously just had his ear pressed up against the door.
“H-hey, dad. Hey, Y/n. You two have a good talk?”
The Sheriff frowned. “Sometimes I think you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
“I’m cute though, right?” He asked hopefully. “Dad? Right?”
The Sheriff shot him a look. “Sit down, Stiles. If Y/n’s more comfortable with you in here, you can stay, but you’re going to be quiet.”
“Got it,” he told him, nodding rapidly.
He flopped down onto the couch and shot you a wink, as if the two of you were sharing some sort of inside joke. His father looked between the two of you, his brows furrowing, and then he held out his hand.
“You can sit on the couch if you want. It’s probably more comfortable than that chair.”
You nodded and looked over at Stiles, searching for confirmation. He shrugged and patted the seat beside him, and you quickly unwrapped your arms from around your knees.
Stiles smiled encouragingly as you sat down beside him, and the Sheriff took the chair you had abandoned. He pulled it a little closer, causing the legs to scrape against the floor, and you flinched.
“Alright,” he told you, sliding behind his desk. “Y/n, do you have a last name?”
You swallowed nervously and remained silent.
“You look pretty young,” he continued. “Is there anyone we can call? Parents, family maybe?”
You shook your head softly. They wouldn’t come if he called, so you didn’t see a point.
“Do you have a pack?” He asked. “Maybe an alpha who’s missing you?”
“No,” you told him firmly, your eye wild and terrified. “Not my alpha. He wasn’t…he wasn’t like Stiles’ friend.”
Stiles blinked, suddenly realizing why you had reacted the way you did when he brought it up earlier. Not every alpha was like Scott. Peter had been a prime example of that, and whatever you were running from, Stiles guessed your alpha was a part of it.
“I understand,” the Sheriff told you. “Are you sure there’s no one we can call?”
You thought for a moment, and felt tears pricking at your eyes. “No. I don’t…I don’t really have anyone.”
The Sheriff gave you a single, firm nod. “ Is there someone you were staying with? Someone in Beacon Hills?”
“No,” you whispered. “I…I ran from Sacramento. I don’t know anyone here.”
“You ran?” Stiles questioned, his eyes going wide. “Like, literally ran?”
“Stiles,” the Sheriff chided, shooting a sharp glare at his son. “Is that true, Y/n?
You came here on foot?”
You nodded. “Mostly. I took a bus when I got to Redding. I ended up here.”
“Why Beacon Hills?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I…I couldn’t go on foot anymore, so I spent what I had left on a bus ticket. I didn’t have a lot of time, though, so I just picked the first place I saw on the board.”
“Beacon Hills.”
“Yeah,” you said softly. “But they found me anyway.”
“Who?”
“Hunters. Two of them. I don’t know how they found me, but I think they were
watching my alpha. And when I tried to run from him…I guess they saw me as an easy target.”
“You were running from your alpha?” the Sheriff asked.
You closed your eyes and nodded, trying to fight the nausea building in your stomach at the thought of him. You remembered the blood, and the pain of the bite, and the things he had done to you that were much worse.
Your family hadn’t understood. They screamed when you tried to show them what was happening, and after that, you knew there was no way you could go to anyone else you knew. After they tossed you out on the street, you hadn’t seen paying a visit to your alpha as an option, and it dawned on you that you didn’t really have any other choice.
Going to him had been a mistake, not only because he tried to hurt you, but when you ran, you caught the attention of someone just as deadly. You managed to escape the hunter and his buddy on foot, and you were running for a week before you finally hopped on that bus to Beacon Hills.
What you didn’t realize was that you hadn’t totally lost them, and the minute you stepped off the bus, they were waiting for you at the station.
“Is he still after you?” Stiles’ father asked, pulling you from your thoughts.
“No,” you said, thinking back to your alpha. “I don’t think he cares enough.”
“And these hunters?”
“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “They looked young, and they seemed like they didn’t really know what they were doing.”
Stiles scoffed. “They knew enough to torture you.”
Stilinski shot a glare at his son, and you cast your eyes to the floor. When you looked back up, Stiles was staring at you with a grimace on his face. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.
“I don’t know if they’re coming back,” you whispered softly. “If they do…”
“We’ll be right here,” Stiles swore, and for once, his father didn’t scold him. “My friend Scott…he’s not going to let anything happen to you. And neither will I.”
You looked over at the Sheriff questioningly, but he flashed you an encouraging smile. “He’s right, Y/n.”
“But you don’t even know me,” you pointed out softly.
The Sheriff shook his head. “Doesn’t mean a thing. We’re here to protect you. If these men come back for you, they’ll have to go through us.”
You stared at them in disbelief, unable to comprehend how a pair of strangers who had known you for less than an hour were prepared to protect you, even when your own family had tossed you out. The words came out broken and thick, but you felt the need to say them anyway, and you just barely managed to get out the “Thank you.” without bursting into tears.
You put your head in your hands as they started to stream down your face, and Stiles reached out to place a comforting hand on your back.
“Don’t worry, Y/n,” you heard the Sheriff say. “We’ll find an officer for you to stay with tonight. Maybe Parrish-”
“She can stay with us.”
You picked your head up, glancing over at Stiles in surprise.
“What?” he asked, his gaze moving from your shocked face, to his dad’s. “It’s not like we don’t have a couch, and she’s already comfortable around us…you’re comfortable, right?”
You nodded slowly, carefully peeking over at the Sheriff’s face. It was scrunched in thought, but he didn’t seem to be shooting the idea down right away.
“See?” Stiles continued. “If she wants to stay, can she?”
“Stiles-”
“Do you want to?” he blurted. “You wouldn’t have your own room, but the couch is soft. Or you could take my bed, and Scott could come over and meet you if you’re okay with it, and you wouldn’t have to worry about-”
“Yes,” you blurted, cutting off his rambling. “If…if it’s okay…”
The Sheriff sighed. “Well, we’ve had much worse in that house, and I can’t think of a reason not to…but it might only be temporary. I don’t want to disappoint you, Y/n.”
You shook your head, a soft, sad smile curling at your lips. “It’ll take a lot more than that to disappoint me, Sheriff.”
He nodded. “Well, guess I can’t say no to that.”
You let out a shocked breath, because there was still some part of you that wasn’t able to believe a complete stranger would ever show you this much kindness. “Thank you.”
Your voice was tight and thick, and you sounded a bit like you had swallowed a bug, but you still wanted to tell them. The Sheriff and Stiles had no idea how your own family had thrown you out when they realized what you were. They had only heard bits and pieces of your story, and they didn’t even know who you were, yet they were offering to take you in.
“You might as well grab your things,” he told you, gesturing to your backpack on the floor. “I’ve got some paperwork to fill out here, but Stiles can take you home.”
Home. The word resonated through you, making your chest ache. You took a breath to steady yourself and walked over to grab your bag, which was resting close to Stiles’ feet. As you reached down to grab it, he held out a hand to stop you.
“I got it,” he assured you, scooping it up with one arm.
“I can carry it,” you said quietly, but he only waved you off.
“It’s one bag. Besides, I’m not that much of a wimp. All this running for my life has really gotten me into shape.”
You bit your lip to keep from smiling, and clasped your hands together.
“You ready to go?” Stiles asked.
You nodded, and took a few steps closer to the Sheriff. “Thank you for this. Thank
you so much.”
He blinked in shock as you wound your arms around his middle, but he quickly recovered and gave you a tight squeeze back. “Don’t worry, Y/n. You’re safe with Stiles.”
You nodded and pulled away, and followed Stiles toward the door of the office. Your stomach rumbled just Stiles opened it up, and just as Stilinski called out to him.
“Make up the couch for her, alright?”
“Got it, dad!”
“And Stiles?”
“Yeah?”
“Please get this girl something to eat.”
“Of course,” he told him, turning around to shoot a look at his father. “I’m not a
heathen.”
You laughed to yourself as Stiles led you out, and several officers looked up from what they were doing and stared. You froze at the pressure of their eyes on you, and wished more than anything they would go back to their paperwork.
Your clothes were still ripped and covered in blood, and you must have looked like hell with your lack of sleep and wild eyes. At first, your only sense of comfort was the smile Officer Clark offered you. She was the only one not staring at you like you were some kind of headcase, at least until you felt someone slip their hand into yours.
You glanced over to find Stiles smiling down at you, encouragement on his face. He was looking at you like he thought you might bolt, but he had no reason to be worried. With his hand in yours, you never would have thought of running.
You squeezed his fingers, set your shoulders, and started to walk toward the door again. A proud grin crossed Stiles’ face, and to your surprise, he didn’t let go of your hand.
“So,” he said simply. “You up for some chicken nuggets?”

Stiles rolled over in the darkness, listening to the soft drumming of rain against the roof. Every so often, lightning would flash through the room, illuminating the greyish-blue walls, and shortly after, thunder would rumble throughout the house.
The skies seemed to be going to war outside, and no matter how deep he burrowed into his covers, Stiles couldn’t seem to drown out the noise enough to sleep. He knew you must have been having trouble too, considering you had the hearing of a bat, and he finally gave up on tuning out the storm and shoved his covers off.
He hopped out of bed and headed down the hall to your room, which had been converted from the Sheriff’s home office a couple weeks ago. Originally his dad had only promised your stay to be a temporary thing, but as you got to know each other, he had a change of heart.
You started going to school with Stiles and his friends only a few weeks ago, but you had already grown to love Scott and Lydia, and Malia seemed to be permanently attached to your side. You were still shy, and Malia had no problem with promising to break the legs of anyone who even considered messing with you.
She was brash and wild, and everything you weren’t, but she was quickly turning into your best friend.
Stiles was proud that you were already fitting in so well, even though you were still dealing with a lot. The nightmares had started the first night you were there, and you often woke Stiles and the Sheriff (when he was home) in the middle of the night.
You apologized profusely, and you were usually glad for the Sheriff’s frequent night shifts, because that was one less person you were bothering. Stiles told you all the time they didn’t see it like that, but it was still hard not to feel insecure.
Stiles was doing everything he could to make you feel welcome, but as he headed down the hall he worried that it might not be enough. Another wave of thunder cracked through the sky, but underneath the rumbling, he could hear something else.
They were quiet and soft, but Stiles recognized the sound of sobs coming from your room. His heart sped up and he immediately darted forward, yanking open your door just as thunder crashed again.
As he entered your room, you jumped, and he couldn’t tell if it was him or the thunder that had startled you. He looked closer and realized you were shaking, and huddled next to your bed on the floor.
Your arms were wrapped around your sides, and when Stiles met your eyes you had the same look that he had seen in them when he first met you; wild and terrified.
He breathed your name, and the sound of it coming off of his lips washed over you like a wave. You reached for him in the darkness, your outstretched fingers illuminated by the lightning.
Stiles instantly dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.
“Shh,” he murmured, over and over in your ear.
“It’s so loud,” you whispered, still trembling against him. “I-I can practically feel it.”
You had only been a werewolf for a little over a month, and you were still struggling with all the physical changes. Loud noises particularly bothered you, and Stiles could have kicked himself for not coming to check on you sooner.
“We can call Scott,” he offered softly.
“No,” you whispered hoarsely. “Please just-just stay?”
“I’ll stay,” he promised, running his hand over your hair. “I’ll stay.”
You burrowed into him, knowing that your tears were staining his t-shirt, but he didn’t seem to care. He simply held you there and murmured to you through the storm, promising you that everything would work out.
When it was finally over, it was well into the early morning, and Stiles’ shirt was soaked through with your tears. You peeled yourself away from him, and wiped your wet cheeks.
“You alright?” He asked softly
You nodded, but your face was red from tears and shame. Stiles noticed you weren’t meeting his eyes, and he eventually crawled across the carpet to rest by your side.
“You know I totally get this, right?”
You frowned, and wrapped your arms around your knees. “I can’t even make it through a storm without breaking down into a sobbing mess, Stiles.”
Stiles shrugged, his shoulder bumping against yours. “It’s a werewolf thing. I’ve seen worse.”
“Oh yeah?” You challenged. “Like what?”
“Well, Scott almost put a hole in his wall with my face once on a full moon. And then I had to handcuff him to a radiator…”
“Handcuff him?” You asked. “Did that even work?”
“Nope,” he told you. “He got out, so trust me, this isn’t that bad.”
“Huh. I guess not.”
“You must be exhausted,” he noticed. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
You shook your head, and he sighed, rising to his feet. You followed him and sat down on your bed, but instead of leaving, he just stood there.
“Stiles?”
“Yeah?”
“Is there something else you wanted to say?”
“What? Oh, uh…no. No, I guess not.”
He scratched his neck and looked toward the door, and then back to you. You tilted your head.
“Stiles…do you wanna sleep in here tonight?”
“It’d make me feel better if I did.”
“Why?” You asked quietly.
“Just in case you need me.”
You felt a warm, cozy feeling spread over you, and your lips turned up ever so slightly.
“It’d make me feel better too.”
Stiles nodded eagerly, and as you shimmied under your covers, he followed you into bed. He stayed respectively on his side, but he rolled over to look at you as you settled in.
Eventually, you decided you didn’t like the space between the two of you, and you scooted closer. Stiles didn’t like it anymore than you did, and he followed suit until he was only a few inches away.
“Stiles?” You whispered. “Can you hold me again?”
A weak noise came from the back of his throat, but he quickly reached out to wrap his arms around you once more. You snuggled into him and closed your eyes, soaking in his warmth.
He reached out tentatively to stroke your hair, and you sighed against his chest. His eyes closed soon after yours, but he remained awake for a few extra moments, listening to your breathing slow down.
When he finally fell asleep, he did it with you still nestled in his arms, and a smile on his face. It had been only a few weeks since you had turned up in the station, but Stiles felt like you had been there for much longer. You said once that you there was no  real reason you had ended up in Beacon Hills, that you had just hopped on the first but you saw, but he didn’t entirely believe that.
There was some reason you ended up here, that you had ended up with him. He was sure of it, and if was being honest, he didn’t care what it was. All that mattered to him was that you were here, and whether it was god, or nature, or the universe that did it, he thanked them for whatever had brought you to Beacon Hills.

anonymous asked:

I've never seen this question asked and thought you would be the one who might know. First, do you think KDS knows the true story about Sam and Cait. What do you think happened before and after that IFH with Sam and Cait. Would they have told KDS the truth and then why they asked her (why they had to) do the interview? Basically, how much does KDS know and how would that interview set up been handled before, during and after. Sam was upset but really, so was KDS. She had teary eyes. Thanks!

I’d bet whichever kid is pissing me off the least this week, $40 in Kohl’s cash and my left tit that she knows. KDS fangirls with the best of them but she really came across like the cat that swallowed the canary. I miss her and wish she was still working closely with the show. I understand the reach goes further with print media, but she really seems to be able to build a trust and rapport, and she is superb at not spilling the beans when it comes to spoilers - both onscreen and off.

anonymous asked:

I am a fence sitter & can explain most things away but some things I just can't!! 1) Jensen's expressions - he absolutely adores Jared!! 2) the handholding at MinnCon - whichever angle I look at it from why would Jensen continue to keep his hand like that!! 3) damn is he loveable - a fandom that thinks you are gay for each other and you say about your co-star that damn is he loveable!! Sounds smitten rather than bff! 4) Move to Austin with rumours - why 5 mins away? 5) sleep with one! Odd joke!

Hello, dear anon!

I know what you mean. There are many things I can’t explain away and you just mentioned the best of them. I’m feeling nostalgic, so how about we look at them a little?

1. “Jensen’s expressions - he absolutely adores Jared!!

Right? The sheer love and adoration in Jensen’s eyes moves me to my core. That is not how I look at my friends, not even the closest ones. How lucky they are to have each other!

2. “the handholding at MinnCon - whichever angle I look at it from why would Jensen continue to keep his hand like that!!

Originally posted by honey-chris

The fan says to Jensen that he’s her favourite and Jensen just sneaks his hand to hold Jared’s while he does the comedy elbows for the audience. I can’t tell you how much I love this moment. (Another angle)

3. “damn is he loveable - a fandom that thinks you are gay for each other and you say about your co-star that damn is he loveable!! Sounds smitten rather than bff!

What I see here is both of them being incredibly ballsy. Not only did they dare to share these videos, Jensen caption this kissy video like that as well. I can still hardly believe this actually happened. (My post here)

4. “Move to Austin with rumours - why 5 mins away?

You know how one sometimes gets the irresistable urge to respond with a vague “For reasons”? This is one of those moments. Just kidding! Of course there’s something to read on the matter. If you’re interested in some tinhatty views of how that came to be, look here. Here’s a little something as well.

5. “sleep with one! Odd joke!

(Gif by the invaluable @one-soul-two-brothers) Oh boy. This is the mother of all slip-ups! This is definitely difficult to explain away… Do you know what the non-believers are saying? That he responded on Jared’s behalf. *scratches head* Yeaaaahhh… I don’t know how that could be. (Posts: 1, 2, 3)

Anyway, thanks for reminding me of these great moments! If you need a pillow to make your fence a little more comfortable, you need only holler and I’ll bring you one. I hope you’re having a fabulous day!

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Keep reading

BTS reaction to sexy snaps

I was going to do this yesterday, but then my body was like “no you’re sick and you’re going to be in and out of the bathroom throwing up everything” (tmi?) So now that I’m better not really because I still feel like shit I’m finally going to do it! However, due to me still being sick, this will be a very short, mainly gif reaction, so I hope that’s okay. Hope you enjoy!

Jin:

he would have opened them while with the other members

Originally posted by the8-carat

Yoongi:

Originally posted by meanyoongis

Hoseok:

he was across the room from you, not paying any attention, so you sent him some old ones you had taken

Originally posted by itsrapmonster

Namjoon: Now you might think he would enter Daddy mode, but instead he would enter noodle mode, unless he was expecting them

Originally posted by mvssmedia

Jimin:

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Taehyung:

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Jungkook:

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

^^going to find you to either reward you or punish you, whichever you prefer ;)

anonymous asked:

can y'all pls update the public sex tag? i beg you!!!

you don’t have to beg, we’ve got you covered

Slippery When Wet by FiccinDylan (1/1 | 5,404 | NC17)

So can you write something with Derek having a unrestless oral fixation toward Stiles as he needs have the teen’s dick on his mouth and taste his cum ASAP. Stiles get a little bit annoyed by the greediness but he hop on board anyway cause he can’t deny Derek anything. Make it so shameless, slobbered and wet as you want. xD

—————————————

aka

Well, 99.9% of the time when you meet your mate, you forge a bond and there’s no problem, it’s all very generic and sweet with just a touch of heightened emotion.

And the other .10%?

Well… you’ll basically turn into a cockslut who craves the taste and tacky sensation of semen in and outside of you at pretty much all times of the day. But you won’t need to worry about that, it only occurs in like, 1 out of every trillionth person!

Fuck Derek’s life.

Lick Me Like You by milkysterek (1/1 | 1,397 | NC17)

The Sheriff was only a room away, visible through the open window that looked out over the pen whilst his only son deepthroated Derek from under a desk. If Derek wasn’t going to hell before, he sure was now.

Pleasing a Crowd by bad1ands (2/2 | 12,365 | NC17)

And here they are now. Conversing easily yet privately as if they’re the only two holding a secret. Eyeing each other as if they’re both wanting to create more.

(Derek’s wolf decides it wants to lay a claim on Stiles. At a New Year’s Eve party. In front of Jackson and Danny.)

Derek Hale From HR by nogitsune_lichen (1/1 | 2,877 | NC17)

“Derek? Fancy seeing you here! I was just-er, getting a new chair. I think mine has a squeaking problem so…yeah I’m just gonna take a chair and–”

The man closed the door with a soft click before holding up the Captain America sticky note with Stiles’ patented chicken scratch handwriting on it. Stiles gnawed on his lip, trying and failing to come up with some sly excuse. Instead he hung his head in defeat when Derek didn’t so much as say anything or make a move.

“Enough playing around; I dig you, and it’s your last day. Meet me in the abandoned closet at one,” Derek quoted, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Stiles sighed, “okay not the best choice of words, but it got you here didn’t it?”

“Yes it did,” Derek nodded before adding, “and I dig you too by the way.”

Originally posted for eternalstereksecretsanta 2016

I’m your Secret Santa, bet you can’t guess who by Marishna (1/1 | 2,172 | NC17)

It’s weird how things have a way of working out. How would a person know if the universe wasn’t just working on a massive set of coincidences or if the fates predestined things to work out a certain way?

Stiles honestly wasn’t sure which way he preferred to think of it. Whichever way didn’t make him out to be a huge pervert he supposed but he wasn’t sure which one that was.

Chasing After You by Ani_Imagine (1/1 | 1,971 | NC17)

Derek, who works as a deputy for BHPD, catches Stiles who’s speeding at 10 o'clock at night.

This is less of an analysis post and more of me, like..

So avoid this if you dislike spoilers okay thanks. 

I’m trying to figure out why I’m so unsettled with Deep Dive’s revelations, and it’s because of a lot of callbacks back from season 1, and other points that I’m trying to piece together. I’m decent at that part but figuring everything out as an end result has me frazzled, so. This is really just like…reminders of things to pay attention to? Maybe it’ll remind you of somethings. 

1. Let’s talk about his wand first

The wand transforms to conform to the holder. It, in its adaptability, transforms to fit the personality/image of the holder. So looking at this wand, for Marco…it doesn’t…make sense to me? I think the thing that throws me off is the color and the wings. It just doesn’t look like it fits for him, so why did it transform like that? 

Then I remembered 

The ceiling in St Olga’s seems to fit this wands kinda style. It’s a more…century gothic monster image, and it fits in with the wings. So, okay, we recall where possibly that design came from. But where the light shines to? 

Alright, it’s this neat looking prophecy floor, conventient with a star, a sun, and encased by a crescent moon. It’s already been touched on, as to who fits what on this table - all except the moon, really. Though, I think the moon has been predicted to resemble the blood moon binding them together. Which brings me to my next point 

3. Marco: “It’s like our souls are bonded -”

The reason that Marco is capable of producing magic is because of this. Why? Well, no idea. The blood moon is some kind of ancient magic that hasn’t been explained - just brought back. But he gets his own cheek marks in order to do so. 

Crescent moons! Okay, that’s fine. You’re thinking it’s probably because of the blood moon, or perhaps it’s linked back to the prophecy. I’m not entirely sure why they’re crescents. There could be a few reasons, or just one is focalized. But then I remembered - I’ve seen that specific crescent moon somewhere, and it’s in plain sight.

The thing with Eclipsa that bothers me so much is that it’s so clear that there are other distractions in the way that leads to her being the ultimate villain for everyone. I can go on about her ploys but I really do think she’s going to be using Marco against Star. He’s been corrupted by her dark magic, he has “a dark magic-monster virus” still lurking in him (whether this comes back is debatable but nothing’s off the table), he lurks a little too long by her crystal in the intro (he observes it in a sort of cautious manner, kinda entranced/curious), she knows what he means to Star, and I don’t think this needs to be said, but she very much parallels Star in more ways than just personality. Marco, I think, is the outsider, “I would give up everything for this one person” Eclipsa relates to in the fact that she had that with the Monster she was running away to. He’s from an entirely different Dimension. I don’t see Marco being unscathed in whatever Eclipsa is doing behind closed doors. 

Eclipsa is a planner. She’s cunning, she’s smart. She’s three steps ahead of you while you’re still trying to figure out if she’s involved in the first place. She’s that kind of enemy. 

And honestly, I think the endgame plot - whichever that may be, involves her in some way, shape or form. So again, planned? I’m leaning towards this. 

Because it needs to be reinstated that Marco wasn’t going to the Blood Moon Ball with Star. He was encouraged to do so, through someone (or something) using his irritation with Star going on a date (”The Moon of Lovers” is what finally convinced him to go down to the Underworld). And it was this guy: 

Which is later revealed to be a portriat Eclipsa is exremely familiar with, hiding an entrance to passage ways linked throughout the castle. 

Yeah, every point here related back to Eclipsa.

You need to ask yourself why that is. Why her daughter has a prophecy-looking room in the basement of the school she took over. Why Marco’s wand looks similar in design to what the paintings on the ceiling represent. Why she knows the sailor and the secrets it hides, who told Marco to go to the Blood Moon Ball. Why Marco has crescent moons on his cheeks.

Everything leads back to Eclipsa.

So I’m not saying that the soul-binding dance between Star and Marco during the Blood Moon Ball was orchestrated by Eclipsa (or someone in association doing what she needs to get done), which is fortelling the prophecy of the Sun and Star, encased by the moon and destined to do something (a battle is the highest guess because nothing else is hitting me), but I kinda am saying exactly that. 

Imagine Daryl refusing to tell you his middle name....

Originally posted by abnormal-angelgifs

“No, absolutely not. You can not just go out there and risk your life for someone who wouldn’t do the same for you!” You screamed, as Daryl hurried to collect the proper supplies to find his brother.

“Don’t matter, he is my kin and…”

“DARYL ELLIOT DIXON!” You screamed as he looked at you in surprise, “You will not walk out of this tent, I will not lose you, not when you are all I got.” You hissed, tears collecting in your eyes as a smile slowly spread on his.

“That ain’t my name.” He chuckled as you huffed in annoyance.

“Well maybe if your stubborn ass would tell me your middle name I could scream the right one.”

“Not happening’ sunshine.” His stuff dropping to the ground as you watched, “Ain’t you goin’?”

“Nope, you were right, Merle’s an ass.”

Originally posted by itsmymeaningoflife

“Daryl Gason Dixon, Don’t you dare push me away.” You snapped after he yelled at you at the farm.

“Will ya just leave me be. I don’t need you or the others, you just some…”

“Don’t you dare call me just some good fuck Daryl Levi Dixon, or else I will take my knife and run it through your stupid head.” You barked, his eyes boring into yours as he inhaled slowly, and muttered under his breath, “Stubborn bitch.”

“That’s why you love me, now get your ass the fuck back over there ‘fore I tell everyone your middle name is Marvin.”

“No it ain’t.” He huffed before walking up to you and kissing you softly, “It is Ivan.”

“Seriously?” You smiled as he laughed back a “No.”

Originally posted by fifty-shades-of-mara

“Baby I don’t get why you are so mad?”

“Because Daryl Roosevelt Dixon THAT WAS MY ONLY JAR OF PICKLES! You were the only one who knew I was stashing ‘em and now the whole damn jar is gone.”

“Baby they are just….”

“They were mine, and now they are gone.” You poured as he let out a chuckle, “I will get you some more, ya just gotta promise me something.”

“What?”

“Never call me Roosevelt again.”

Originally posted by prettymuchdixonalready

It was the day before the Governor showed up, you looked up as he walked to the door, “I can’t do this no more. I can’t keep playin’ house.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, you could see the heart break in them.

“I don’t think I ever loved you, I think I have just been faking this whole time cause I didn’t wanna be alone. But I can’t keep leading you on like this. Cause you deserve…”

Your slap echoed through the halls as you looked at him, “Daryl Alvin Dixon, you are a real piece of work.” You snapped before pushing him aside and storming out of the cell.

Originally posted by sanjamac

You looked at his back as you stood there with Carol, tears forming in your eyes as you looked at the group, it was Carl who noticed ya.

“[Y/N]! Carol!” He yelled as he alerted everyone to your presence, and you watched as all eyes were on you, and then you meet the eyes you missed far too much.

You let out a shakey breath as you looked at your ex, and watched as he dropped everything and sprinted towards you, engulfing you in his arms as you clung to him.

“Daryl James Dixon, don’t you ever do something like that shit again.” You whispered as his tears hit your shirt.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He whispered in reply as you leaned back and kissed him softly.

Originally posted by wouldnormanreedus

“So I was thinkin, it seems befitting that we are in a church.” He whispered as you laid next to him on the floor of the church.

“I mean I guess. But if ya don’t mind me asking, why is it befitting?”

“Cause I can’t stop thinkin about how much I missed ya when we were separated, and how much I hated myself for lyin to ya. I was scared, I wanted so much to stay with ya forever, but the problem is that we ain’t in no fairytale. I was terrified it would end soon, so instead of livin in fear, I just ended, thinking I could live with seein ya everyday. But I couldn’t stand not seein ya, and I want so badly to spend every day with ya.”

“Well if this is what I think it is, then yeah, it is very befitting that we are in a church.” You smiled

“I ain’t got a ring but I am thinking we don’t need one yet, I think it is just…”

“A shit ton of words.”

“I agree.”

“Well Daryl Daniel Dixon, I would love to be your wife in this piece of shit world, and I promise to love ya until either a walker eats me and you gotta put a arrow through my head, or until we die of old age. Or alcohol poisoning, whichever comes first.” You smiled, “but I gotta ask ya one thing if we are getting married right now.”

“Yeah baby?”

“What is your middle name, cause I sure as hell know it ain’t Daniel.”

“Sorry baby, If I tell ya, we will lose all the excitement of this marriage.”

anonymous asked:

Hi, where are you? What about Sam and Cait? Are we authorized to consider them a real couple?

I am still here! Just working.
As to wether or not you can consider Sam and Cait a couple or not is up to you. You don’t need anyone’s authorization to do that! And it’s not disrespectful or a crime whichever way you decide!
Personally I think that a woman making public comment about a man’s “shrimp” being somewhat out of the ordinary size range- and getting a response from him that it is in fact a large red blowfish ( which incidentally is a fish that though it may start out small can achieve quite staggering proportions when …excited ) says quite a bit about what these two are to one another- and that it is quite a bit more than “just friends” or “coworkers” who by all the standards of decent behavior and workplace laws would keep quiet about the size of their friend’s or coworker’s blowfishes- even if they had occasion to know about such things. But wives and girlfriends- now that’s a different matter entirely.
A giant red blowfish in a sea of small shrimps? That sort of thing says Couple to me, anon!