willing is not enough

Post-Break Up Kiss: The kiss that catches both of you off guard, but says ‘I miss you’, ‘I’m sorry’, and ‘Please love me again’, without any words being spoken. (Dean x Reader)

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…Okay, but you do remember what happens when someone who possesses one of the keys loses right? The key can then be used to open the seal. And if you were to lose while wearing all of them at the same time, that’s not going to be good at all. :\

Obviously he still thinks they’re important enough that Asuka would be willing to duel him for them, but he’s not thinking things through clearly.

Signs and Crushes

Aries: Pretty upfront about it, always on the lookout for someone and when they find that perfect someone they cling on. You’ll know if they like you by the measure of inside jokes you have, the amount of touching and eye contact. Pay attention next time their around. Give it some time and eventually they’ll tell you.

Taurus: Timid about it. They’re very fun people and love to just go with you anywhere. Very vexing and charming signs, so they might feel unattainable to you. In nature they doubt themselves, so they might feel the same about you. That being said, they most likely will go to their grave simply crushing on you. Maybe it’s best you make the first move with this sign.

Gemini: Like Taurus, this sign is timid about liking you. They want you to make the first move and tell them you like them. When it comes to crushes, this sign might do the most discreet things like tagging you in a post or remembering your pet’s name. Loves to laugh at memes with you. Wants to take you to new places but doesn’t know how to ask. Very gentle. Probably best you make the first move.

Cancer: Very lovey-dovey. Loves to compliment you in small ways and it might be pretty obvious they like you. Compliment them back, you’ll notice how they blush and smile. Very cute. You might also notice how they want to invite you in with their own friends. It is either-or with this sign when it comes to crushes. Depending on the person, you might want to tell them yourself.

Leo: A very fierce sign. They get what they want because of their strong demeanor. They’ll charm you into their lives and never let you go. When this sign likes you, they’ll be fairly shy at first, but pay attention to body language. Do they laugh a lot? Focus all of their attention on you? Once they’re comfortable with you, they don’t hold anything back.

Virgo: This sign needs to know that you mutually like them. They don’t go off on a limb and assume things. They don’t ask you on a date out of nowhere, even if they do suspect you like them back. They’re a logical sign, and they just need to know that the feelings are reciprocated. Therefore, it might not be that obvious that they have a crush on you. They want to get to know you better and understand your intentions. Once they do, they’ll open up to you and be very obvious when it comes to liking you.

Libra: A truly kind sign. Once you get close enough to them, they’re willing to do anything for that special someone. They love to brag about you to their friends and you might find yourself on their social media frequently. Eventually, they may come around to telling you how they truly feel.

Scorpio: Now you and I both know a Scorpio will tell you, your family, your neighbors, and your friends that they like you. They don’t hold much back. It takes a while to crack that hard shell of theirs, but once you do there is no going back. It might be overbearing at times, but Scorpio only has the best intentions at heart. You know they like you if they put you above anyone else.

Sagittarius: Very withdrawn when it comes to having crushes. They feel like they fail at love and so, when they do have a crush, they hold back completely. They love to laugh with you and adventure with you. Give them some time, and they’ll come around. Do not bombard them by confronting them instantly.

Capricorn: Similar to sagittarius, this sign is very withdrawn. They have a rather passive personality and will play it off as if you’re not much in their life. You might take notice to this. However, they think the world of you. Have some late-night mushy conversations with them and you’ll know they think the world of you. They’re a sweet sign, but they can break your heart in an instant.

Aquarius: This sign is bubbly when they like you. Very kind and smiley. They love the finer things in life and they aren’t afraid of showing you. Beautiful people both inside and out and you definitely don’t want to lose them. They make it obvious when they like you. It’s the little things in life that mean the most of them. So if they show you things like little places around town and beautiful, hidden scenery then you should just know.

Pisces: A reserved sign, or at least they try to be. When it comes to them liking you, honey, you’ll know. Compliments out the wazoo. Tries to make you laugh as much as possible. They always think about you, always. They worry for you, get excited for you, and will love you unconditionally. They have an obsessive personality and when they have a crush on you, all that obsession is pointed to you. They get so scared that they’ll mess up somehow. They make amazing lovers, but they will leave if something feels wrong.

“The secret of getting ahead is getting started.” – Mark Twain

“Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot; but make it hot by striking.” – William Butler Yeats

“It always seems impossible until it’s done.” – Nelson Mandela

“The best way for you to predict your future is to create it.” – Abraham Lincoln

“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.” – Confucius

“Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time.” – Thomas Edison

“Don’t watch the clock; do what it does. Keep going.” – Sam Levenson

“What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you become by achieving your goals.” – Zig Ziglar

“By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” – Benjamin Franklin

“I am not afraid…I was born to do this.” – Joan of Arc

“The most effective way to do it, is to do it.” – Amelia Earhart

“We aim above the mark to hit the mark.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.” – Helen Keller

“The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.“ – Walt Disney

“Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do.” – Pope John XXIII

“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” – Arthur Ashe

“When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on.” – Franklin D. Roosevelt

“What you do today can improve all your tomorrows.” – Ralph Marston

“Perserverance is failing 19 times and succeeding the 20th.” – Julie Andrews

“The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph.” – Thomas Paine

“I attribute my success to this–I never gave or took any excuse.” – Florence Nightingale

“Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough; we must do.” – Johann Wolfgang van Goethe

“Who seeks shall find.” – Sophocles

“Change your life today. Don’t gamble on the future, act now, without delay.” – Simone de Beauvoir

Motivational Quotes Part 2 | Inspirational Quotes

Putting Lipstick On A Pig

by reddit user Pippinacious

Except for the whole murder thing, Courtney James seemed like a lovely young woman. She was bright, articulate, a dedicated college student and well liked waitress at a popular restaurant.

I met her when she was sitting in an interrogation room at the precinct. She was a bit on the larger side, dressed conservatively in pastel colors and minimal makeup, and when I came in, she introduced herself with a polite smile, as if we were meeting for a job interview as opposed to a police investigation. She had declined to have an attorney present, so I got right to business.

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So… here’s a little idea I’ve been toying with lately. As you guys already know, my computer got infected and hacked due to downloading some CC that was behind Ad.fly links. I lost my Netflix account to hackers and seriously risked losing my PayPal account, too. Needless to say, I won’t be touching an Ad.fly link (or other similar service) with a 10-foot pole from now on.

However, here’s the thing: I don’t know about you, but I have a feeling that finding cc that is not hidden behind a paywall or an Ad.fly link lately is becoming harder and harder.

And this is why I’d like to start an “Ad-free Creators United” project, a database/cc finds blog to make it easier for everyone to find creations that are NOT hidden behind an Ad.fly or Patreon link. To do this, however, I’ll need the help of a few fellow simmers, aka… YOU!

What are you looking for?
TS2, TS3 and TS4 players who are willing to help me hunt down FREE custom content for sims games and help me keep the cc finds blog updated.

What does “free” content mean?
Any cc creation that is NOT hidden behind an Ad.fly, Shorte.st or Patreon link.

Will this be something like Paysites Must Be Destroyed?
Nope. The blog will be solely dedicated to promoting creations that are shared for free (with no Ad.fly or Patreon links) by their original creators. Basically, it’ll be just a cc finds blog for free creations. No re-uploading of pay content.

How do I participate?
Send me an ask or a message if you’re willing to help me with the finds blog. Please, only send me your message if you’re ACTUALLY willing to work on this. If you don’t have enough time and/or are unsure on whether you can work on the blog itself, you are encouraged to reblog this post and spread the word around.

Fine, I want to take part to this. How many people do you need?
For now, I’ll need:

  • 2 persons to take care of TS2 cc finds;
  • 1 person to take care of TS3 cc finds (I’ll be the other person :D);
  • 2 persons to take care of TS4 cc finds;

Last but not least…

Are you a creator who doesn’t use Ad.fly? Get your name added to the database!
If you’re a creator and you’re sharing your creations for free, please reblog this post and fill in the following form:

  • Creator name: [your name]
  • Blog url: [the blog where you share your sims creations]
  • Games you create for: [a list of the sims game/s you create cc for]
  • What you create: [CAS, furniture, objects, retextures, mods, traits, retextures, recolors, mesh conversions, new meshes? List anything you usually create for here]
To my Valentine, I love you.
—  I shouldn’t start a love letter with an apology, but I think you’ll come to find it sincere. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the first person to kiss you, the first time someone kissed my lips I understood that to love is to be in pain– but my sister had to explain that love shouldn’t hurt, it should be painless. The light breeze while you’re outside exploring the city during spring kind of feeling. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the first person to hold you, the first person to hold my hands said that I shouldn’t regret anything or anyone because in this moment? This very second… you wanted it with every part of your being. It doesn’t matter in the end, the only thing that matters is the journey. The road that led you to me will ultimately lead you back to yourself. I’m sorry that I won’t be the first person to make you feel love. The ocean is a heart and I’ve been building a sandcastle that’s tall enough to seek you out. I’m sorry that I won’t be the one you’ll show off to your mother. I’m sorry that you’ll think about me when sleep is close to impossible. Valentine’s Day no longer holds value to me. I’ve been doing some thinking lately about who I am as a writer and what it means to say I love you. To love someone enough to let them go. To love someone enough to tell them to grow without you. To love someone enough that you’re willing to explain the reasons as to why it won’t work just yet. To love yourself enough to come to terms with it. One day someone’s going to treat you better than I ever will. One day someone’s going to ask you to marry him. One day someone’s going to have your smile. One day someone’s going to leave you love letters near the kitchen sink. One day someone’s going to pretend to spoon feed you during dinner and pull you in for a kiss. One day someone’s going to write poems for you and mean it when he says I want you to be mine forever. One day someone’s going to be right beside you. He’ll be right there. By your side, as the sun hits your curtains and you’re struggling to get out of bed– he’ll swing those curtains open and jump scare you. He’s going to sing for you while you’re in the shower. He’ll hold you while you’re having nightmares. He’ll reason with you intellectually if you’re ever in a dispute about art and poetry. He’ll walk you down that aisle and never think twice. He won’t do drugs and he’ll be healthy. He won’t smoke cigarettes and he won’t be perfect, but my god, he’ll make you forget about me. You’re stubborn and hard headed, you’re just like me. You’re smart and colorful down to the bristles of your soul. As an artist and a writer, we are compelled to chase after a love story fitting to declare war upon ourselves. You’re going to paint his life like how I’ve done for you. He’s going to squeeze your palms and ask for a dance. He’s going to hold your hips and ask for a walk. The moon will be out and you’ll enjoy your night. Love screams from a multidimensional place– I’ve seen seen love crash and burn. I’ve seen love destroy and rebuild. I’ve seen love light enough to blind us from ever seeing the truth. I’ve seen a love that’s frightening. I’ve seen terror within the night– you’re only sober if it feels right. I’ve seen who I am and I’m still lost. Some words cost us an eternity of apologies. Some feelings never leave us, even if the people do. You’re more than what I can ask for, you’re more than you know. We’ve been down this road before. Some day we’ll forget about who we are today, some day we’ll change forever. Some day you’ll understand the why, some day you’ll find the who, some day he’ll bring you to the where, some day he’ll show you what’s in his heart, and you’ll realize about the how. I’m still searching for myself– I’m falling deeper into a sea that isn’t designed for swimming. I’m stuck in a place that only has room for one person. Do you ever feel like there’s something wrong with the way that we are? Something’s always missing in the daily routine, there’s something broken inside of my head. Love letters sprinkled with heartfelt laughter– I wish I could give you that. I only want the best for you even if that person isn’t me.
Witchy Morning Routine Ideas!

Being organized is a wonderful way to find success and just enjoy life more in general. Having a morning routine can start your day off right and keep you running on a full tank of energy. Quite a few of you probably do have an established morning routine, or at least a list of things you do every morning. Regardless of how your morning goes, there are always a few little things you can do to witch-ify your morning. 

1. Choose your breakfast based on your intent for the day! Whatever you’re hoping for that day-whether it be for your crush to say hello or a phone call confirming that you got the job-basing your first meal off of your intentions can help bring a little good luck your way. If you’re hoping for something passionate or frustrating or romantic, choose red (make a strawberry smoothie or some toast with strawberry jam). Get creative! Find a way to get in the color black or pink or yellow. 

2. Start the day off with a glass of water, then the best part, tea. I say drink water first because that’s extremely important and utterly refreshing. After all of that is taken care of, drink some tea. Try to aim for some more caffeinated tea if you can (to give you an extra shot of energy and productivity). Add in some honey and stir clockwise for a little extra magic. Anything to incorporate some telltale mysticism!

3. Meditate when you get up. Many individuals choose to meditate in the morning. This calms them and helps them focus on what they need to get done that day. It will relieve any stress and anxiety you’re feeling, and most importantly, it’s a very popular Witchcraft tradition. Meditating is known to help with astral projection, as well as seeing auras and getting in touch with your chakras. It doesn’t matter if you only do it for five minutes, as long as you’re getting in some me time.

4. Pop a good ole’ crystal in your purse or pocket! This is one of my favorites. Not only are the options so endless (depending on what you’re hoping for that day), it’s easy and takes no time at all to do. If you’re hurried and in a rush one morning, take the time to just throw a little crystal in with your things. Bonus points if you set it on your phone while it’s charging to cleanse it. 

5. Eat your breakfast outside. Getting in some fresh air before your day begins is a super good idea. It will clear your mind and refresh your senses, which will also help with your Witchcraft. Nothing beats listening to the birds while there’s still a bit of mist in the air. Plus, you have food! Good job if the food you’re eating is based on your intent for the day. If you don’t have the time to physically walk outside and sit out there without multitasking for five or more minutes, no worries. Simply pop open a couple of windows and sit by them for a more toned-down experience.

6. Draw sigils on your face with cleanser, lotion, or makeup. Rub them in to activate. This is a really good hack for glamours, as well as just making you look good. However, your sigil doesn’t have to be for your physical appearance. It can pretty much be any sigil at all. As long as you sufficiently activate it and are confident in your workings, things should go smoothly. The best thing about this hack is that you don’t have to wear makeup to do it. Just use your cleanser or some serum. Even water will do! 

7. Make some fruit water the night before. Fruit water is especially good for color magic because you can find fruit in basically any color imaginable, even black if you’re willing to search hard enough (blueberries are close enough if you don’t have any other options). The brilliant practicality of fruit water is pretty obvious. It’s wonderfully hydrating, flavorful, healthy, and best of all, magical. Plus, it won’t take up any of your morning time because it’s pre-made. 

8. If you have any deities, pray to them when you wake up. Although I personally have no deities, it’s a great idea for those of you who do. It doesn’t even have to be a fancy exchange. Maybe just say good morning or a quick, respectful hello. Or if you’re a fan of multitasking, just have a nice chat with them while doing whatever you need to do. Anything is suitable as long as it isn’t downright rude.

9. Light some candles. Your house will smell good all throughout the day, and it will definitely help to magic-ify the atmosphere. You can also burn incense if that suits your fancy. Whatever smelly-ma-bobber you want to use works fine. It’s quick and easy so it won’t be a hassle, and you’ll leave your home smelling like heaven. Bonus points if you wave a candle or some sage around to clear away any negative energies.

10. Put some dried flowers on your breakfast. My personal favorite is dried lavender, but you can use whatever you prefer. You can pick flowers for any number of purposes, as long as they’re perfectly edible. They can be sprinkled on a smoothie bowl, scattered over some toast with peanut butter and honey, or if you’re up for a challenge, add them to savory foods. The choice is yours!

I hope you guys enjoyed these ideas and if you want more, please just ask! Questions, requests, and suggestions (plus a simple hello) are all welcome. In the meantime, have fun and happy bewitching!

badboy!jungkook + the reality of us

Six years ago…


“I told you I hate that flavor.” He glared, swiping at your lips with his thumb until you were slapping his hands away because he was wiping it all off.

“Well when you start paying for my lip gloss I’ll take it into consideration.” You spat, licking at your lips anyway because they taste less like grape and more like Jungkook.

Jungkook glared down at the little black bag sitting in the cab of his truck, a muscle in his jaw ticking until he reneged, ripping open the glove compartment to shove it in ‘til it was out of eye sight. After a final curse he unlocked his phone.

Jungkook [6:01:45]: when I say 5:30 it doesn’t mean make me wait in your drive way for 30 goddamn minutes

Jungkook [6:05:34]: what the fuck are you doing up there

Jungkook [6:07:23]: one more minute and I’m leaving your ass here

Jungkook [6:10:12]: fuck right off

He had only just sent the text when your front door was flying open, your very flustered self sprinting down your driveway until you could yank open the door of his truck with a grin. He wanted to glare, do anything but return your stupid goo goo eyes but he couldn’t help himself.

Not when it’s been an entire month since he’s seen you last, save for through the small rectangular screen of his phone. Especially not when you had returned home from camp looking gorgeous and brown from the summer sun, nearly blinding with your own radiance. He hadn’t understood, even all this time the point of going to a stupid fucking cheer camp the summer before college started and you would end whatever little thing you and Jungkook had had for the past year for good. But you had patiently if but a little patronizingly explained to him that you wanted to keep in shape for the fall tryouts at your school.

You sure had kept your fucking word about that. Somehow your body looked even more delectable than when you had left, the smooth expanse of your back revealed in a tank top cut so low there was no way you could possibly be wearing a bra under that. The ripped and frayed state of your jeans and scuffed white converse proved to be much less scandalous than your shirt choice. However—

“You cut your hair.” Jungkook said lamely, stating the obvious.

Your only response was to turn back to him with a grin, before attempting to throw yourself on him over he middle console. He still caught you though, his firm grip around your waist betraying the sneer he was sporting—it only made you grin wider when you brought your lips together.

Jungkook’s eyes widen the slightest when an eager tongue swipes over his lips and your physically climbing over the middle console to get to him, his hands catch you around the waist and he’s suddenly just as invested in the kiss. His mouth is scalding on your own, lips sealed over yours in an almost feverish haze as though he’s trying to communicate just how much the distance affected him in a single kiss. Your touch is just as desperate though, reaching up his shirt to press against the smooth muscle there. It had been so long, you just needed to touch him, feel him, feel the familiar press of his erection—one that never failed to make an appearance in your presence.

And then he’s pulling away from you, hands clutching your face a safe distance from your own, “Your parents.”

He asks the logical questions because it appears you weren’t going to be the level headed one this time around. Still, you try and dive back in for another kiss, but his grip only tightens with a frown.

“Out of town.” You whimper, making another attempt to get closer to him. This time you succeed and Jungkook waits all of five seconds with his mouth against your own to pull away again.

“Then why the fuck,” he says between kisses and swipes of tongue, “are we hooking up in my truck?”

“We’re not.” You groan, pressing your core deeper against the zipper of his jeans, “We’re not fucking. I’m just… I just—”

“Will you stop grinding long enough to finish your goddamn sentence. Jesus Christ,” he curses when your head dips back, and a hiss slips through his teeth on a particular roll of your hips, “You act like.. l-like we’ve been apart a year instead of a month. Fuck baby, quit that.”

“Okay, okay I’m s-sorry.” You say on a shudder when his teeth nip roughly at your lower lip. You still can’t help but dip your head into the crook of his shoulder and inhale his scent, “I don’t do good with distance s-sorry. I missed you.”

“I couldn’t tell.” He replied dryly, sending you a cocky grin when you glare at him.

Your glare is gone just as quickly as it came though and your eyes flutter shut in defeat, or a pout, Jungkook could never be sure with you.

“I’m so wet.” You whined before exhaling with a shake of your head, “We are not fucking today.”

Jungkook snorts, “Are trying to convince me or yourself?”

“You,” you answer firmly before cocking your head to the side with a frown, “No me. Wait… both of us?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but catches you by the scruff of the neck, gaze laser focused on your full lower lip before he’s dipping in for another kiss—it’s slower this time and reverberating a softness you weren’t aware Jeon Jungkook was capable of.

“You irritated the hell out of me for a month.” He glared, but he was hugging your waist, you cocked an eyebrow at his contradictory behavior. As though a switch had been flipped, his gaze narrowed to slits and he was cocking his head at you.

“What?” You sigh.

“How was camp?” He implored, but his words were laced with suspicion.

“It was good.” You shrug, “Actually I kind of miss it. I made a lot of friends there.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook asks stiffly, “Then why’d you bother coming back at all?”

“Don’t start.” You groan, hands going to cup his face and though his pouting was adorable it ruffled your feathers.

“And what about that nerd…. Taekyung? You two keeping in touch over break?” He sneers.

You let out a deep exhale at the mention of your companion—you and Jungkook had been getting along well, fucking great in fact, as though the distance had triggered something in the both of you and lit a fire under Jungkook’s ass. He would call almost everyday, text you when he was busy, it was almost… domestic of him. You had gotten too comfortable with the Jungkook that was caring in his own roundabout way that you forgot to be wary of the green eyed beast that lurked just beneath the surface of his cool exterior. He had asked for a selfie and you had tugged one of the girls in your squad, and a very discombobulated Taehyung into a picture after one of the more intense days at camp.

Safe to say, Jungkook didn’t appreciate it—your lack of clothing or Taehyung’s close proximity.

No. I haven’t been keeping in touch with him.” You snapped, “But how are you and Jennie, I saw you tagged in more than one of her pictures on Instagram. Is she doing well? Still sucking dick under the bleachers?”

“If she is its not fucking mine.” He bites out crudely, “Considering I’ve only had my dick in one uptight bitch for the past year and half. I haven’t even seen her since we fought on the phone for a fucking hour because of that stupid ass picture.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Yep.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose before matching Jungkook’s glare with intense scrutiny, “We’ve been together all of five minutes why are we fighting already?”

“It’s not a fight.” He spits.

“Then what the hell is it?” You scoff.

“A discussion, a very loud fuckin’ discussion.”

“Are we seriously fighting over whether or not we’re having a fight?” You exasperate, running a hand through your hair. You pin him with a look, “I came here to hang out with you. I… I haven’t even bothered to call anyone else because you were the first person I wanted to see. So could you stop being a dick long enough so we can go on a da….”

Jungkook raised a brow at you. The two of you had long since been toeing the line of domesticity and while you were both aware of it neither of you was willing to swallow their pride long enough to show all your cards.

Movie. Let’s go to that movie and then when we get back we can do something that you like.” You say with a teasing smile, going to straighten his the ties on his hoodie.

Jungkook sighs but lets you pull him in by his sweatshirt for another kiss, this one longer but less heated than the first. 


“God that blew.” Jungkook stretches and you roll your eyes at him.

“How would you know, you slept through the entire thing.” You snorted.

“Not the entire thing.” He smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Right I forgot you woke up in the middle to finger me.” You scoff.

“As if you didn’t enjoy it.” He chides.

“I never said that.” You hum before shoving the popcorn at him, “Hold this, I have to pee.”

Jungkook grumbles something that sounds dangerously like an expletive and you don’t wait for him to agree, rushing to the restroom to relieve yourself.

It isn’t until your washing your hands that you remember the crumpled brown bag in your purse. Your hands flutter uselessly as you try to take it out, hoping to God that it’s not wrinkled. You grin to yourself when you find it in perfect condition.

“Would he feel put out if I got him something?” You grumble before worrying your lip between your teeth, “You’re overthinking it, ___. Its just a stupid t shirt.”

Right it was just a shirt. No big deal. Just something you saw in passing that you thought would look good on him, no big deal.

“No big deal.” You repeat to yourself before taking a last minute glance at yourself in the mirror. You looked nice… or you thought you looked nice but Jungkook hadn’t mentioned anything about your haircut other than the initial shock he sported when you were coming down the stairs.

You push back through the bathroom door, taking extra care not to touch anything after having already washed your hands, your eyes scan the room for Jungkook, letting out an annoyed huff because you told him to wait outside. You falter when you come across a broad back, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck in a familiar fashion.

“Jungkook I told you to—oh.” You hesitate at the halting laughter, whatever inside joke they were giggling about brought to an abrupt close when you draw near, “Hey.”

“Hey unnie.” she greets, hand coming up in a stiff wave, “… are you two here together…?”

Jungkook hesitates for the briefest of moments, eyes searching yours for an appropriate response. You don’t know why it annoys you so much or why you’re suddenly schooling your features into a tight grin.

“No. I, uh… we ran into each other and he was holding my stuff for me while I peed.” You lied, taking in the way the younger girls shoulders slump in relief.

“Cool.” Jennie grins, “Jungkook’s really helpful like that.”

Isn’t he?” You agree curtly, your gaze hesitates at the familiar black fabric wrapped around the girls shoulders, “Cute jacket.”

“O-oh this?” She asks before sending a shy grin Jungkook’s way, and you swear his eyes close in defeat, “He lent it to me a while ago I never did get to give it back so I was excited to see him and maybe return it but we got a little side tracked.”

You send a questioning look Jungkook’s way but he’s as silent as he had been the entire five minutes you spent having the fucking conversation.

“I’m sorry, don’t let me interrupt.” You feign apologetic, “I’ll just leave you two to it.”

Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh but if the younger girl notices she doesn’t say anything, only smiles politely at you.

“Wait, er… what about that ride you asked me for earlier?”

He’s grasping at strings.

“It’s fine, I’ll find my own way home. Don’t worry about me.” You send a fake smile their way.

“Quit being ridiculous.” He seethes before turning back to Jennie, “Uh… it was cool seeing you or whatever but I’ve got stuff I got to handle and—shit. ____ will you wait up?”

“Jungkook!” Jennie calls.

You don’t even bother turning around, your feet are eating up concrete before you have half a mind to realize that the heavy footsteps are getting closer. No, you don’t realize that until a hand is yanking you back by the wrist.

“Will you wait a damn second?” Jungkook grits out.

You bite back the immature words that are clawing their way up your throat and feign innocence.

“Oh. Sorry. Were you calling me?” You hum, but the angry flush in your cheeks give you away and Jungkook’s narrowing his eyes at you.

“What the hell was that about?” He implores.

“What was what about?” You frown.

“I’m not in the mood for your fucking games tonight alright, would you—would you just,” he ends on a growl, “tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing.” You chime, “Absolutely nothing is bothering me. If you were talking about in there when I came out and saw you talking to some random girl who you said you had nothing to do with and yet she’s wearing your hoodie then you’re wrong.”

Jungkook blinks at your for a moment.

“We’re not fucking… we’re not anything!” He groans, running a hand through his hair and trying to figure out how the hell you two ended up here.

Why you always end up here.

“Are you talking about me and you or me and Jennie?” You spit back, “Because you’re right about at least one of those things.”

You try to storm away again but he drags you back by a belt loop, bring you toe to toe with.

“We’re not anything—is that what you’re saying?” He queries and he doesn’t know why it irritates the hell out of him.

“We’re not.”

“Then why are you so fucking pissed, why are you so jealous about some random girl if we’re not anything, huh? Does any of that make sense to you?”

“I’m not jealous.” You hiss, “But if I were mad about this entire thing, which I’m not I’d tell that you I’m not fucking mad about you talking to some random girl I’m mad that you lied to me.”

“Stop fucking talking in hypotheticals!” He yells suddenly and you’re only partly aware of the fact that he’s already dragged you to the car and you’re slamming the door angrily. “When the hell did I lie to you?”

“You said you didn’t talk to her anymore but why is she wearing your jacket, are you two fucking?” You shout back and your tone has Jungkook reaching for you, hands clenching around nothing like he wanted to choke you before he was dropping his head back against the headrest.

“No I’m not fucking her!” He huffs, “I’m not fucking anyone but you and okay I admit I did lie I saw her last weekend, we’re in summer school together and the classroom was cold so I gave her my fucking sweater. I only lied for your benefit.”

“Do I look like I’m benefitting from your dumb fucking lie?” You spit, “And are you her goddamn boyfriend, let her freeze to death for all I care.”

“Well am I your boyfriend?” He demands and the car falls into utter silence around his question.

You inhale through your teeth before turning to face him, a frown marring your expression, “You’re right. You’re not my boyfriend because a stupid fucking boyfriend would at least say something about my haircut that I dumbly got for him but no you’re not my boyfriend you’re not my fucking anything.”

“What the hell are you talking about, when did I ever say anything about your hair? You look fine either way, who the fuck cares—”

I care!” You shout, “I care because I care about you and you’re stupid fucking opinion and I want to be your dumb girlfriend, okay? I don’t want to look fine either way, I want to look beautiful to you. I want you to call me for a change. I want… I want to be able to give you this stupid fucking gift without having to overthink the consequences—if I’m going to be moving us forward or back two steps and I… I like you, I like you so much that I remember things you say when you’re not paying attention like how much you liked some dumb actresses hair and so I do… I do stupid fucking things because of you.”

Your panting by the end of your confession because it was a lot, it was all the things you wanted to say, all the insecurities weighing heavy on your mind while you were away from him. And in a perfect world, Jeon Jungkook would have looked back at you and wiped your tear streaked cheeks and coo back all your rushed declarations.

But this wasn’t a perfect world and this was very much the reality of you and Jeon Jungkook.

“I… you… we said that we wouldn’t complicate things.” He says quietly, hands gripping the steering wheel, unable to meet your gaze.

All you can do is let out a bitter laugh.

“Right.”

“I think that it’s better this way,” he says lowly, “you’re going off to college and I’m probably not fucking going anywhere. It’s better if we end this now before either of us gets too invested.”

“Either of us… gets invested,” you repeat slowly before unbuckling your seat belt, “Why sugarcoat it? I’m the only one that’s invested, clearly. It was fun while it lasted right?”

Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh when you open the truck door, “Let me at least drop you home.”

“Fuck you and enjoy your stupid fucking present. And in the very unlikely future you feel inclined to try and talk to me—don’t.” You throw the brown paper bag at him before slamming his truck door.

“____!” He calls, but you’re already jogging back to the theater. Jungkook yanks open the glove compartment and grabs his idiotic present before throwing it out the window, watching as small tubes of ridiculously priced lip gloss go flying.

anonymous asked:

if you could direct me to all the fics about victor staying the night with yuuri after the banquet or yuuri waking up with victor in his room or even just yuuri remembering the banquet pls and thks!

Thanks for this request! I love these fics, please share more with me if you think I missed some!

Originally posted by dorkoru


Banquet Fics


Bottom’s Up by cryingoverspilledvodka, lucycamui, Teen, 4.3k
At the Grand Prix banquet, Victor’s been asked to sign an autograph for a very enthusiastic fan. Unfortunately, there’s a distinct lack of paper around. Fortunately, Yuuri has a suggestion. THIS IS SO FUNNY OMG

16 Glasses by Cesare, Teen, 9.5k (WIP)
Victor takes figure skating seriously, takes Yuri Katsuki seriously as a competitor, and really doesn’t see that banquet coming. SO good!

the clean tongue, the clear head by Anonymous_Ostrich, Teen, 3.4k
It had been a long time since Viktor had danced with someone. A really, really long time. And Yuuri knew how to flamenco. Drunk. Unbelievable. I love Victor POV fics!

After Banquet Special by Watermelonsmellinfellon, Mature, 1.2k
What would happen if Victor had escorted Yuuri back to his hotel room after the banquet? 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Tale of a Sleeping Prince by astudyinrose, Teen, 7.7k
Victor meets Yuuri at the Grand Prix Banquet in Sochi, and falls head over heels for him. Of course, only one of them remembers. AWESOME fic!

Question and Answer by chellethewriter, Teen, 10k
Viktor is growing old, and his competitors seem to be growing younger and younger. Thus, with every passing year, Viktor finds fewer familiar faces at his Grand Prix banquets, and he wonders whether his attendance has become pointless. What he doesn’t realize, however, is that one unfamiliar, alcohol-reddened face can make the whole night more than worthwhile. Another great fic!

ora sono pronto / now I’m ready by exile_wrath, Teen, 6.2k
Victor is used to the banquet after the Grand Prix Final. Same faces, same questions about next season, nothing surprising. But this year, Katsuki Yuuri surprises him so much, that he thinks he may have fallen in love a little. Well, more than a little. Enough that Victor is willing to drop competitive skating to be his coach. LOVE!

i think i may have loved you first by perennials, Gen, 1.3k
Here are the facts: Yuuri is drunk. Viktor is not. Yuuri is riding an alcohol-induced high so far up above the clouds he cannot even begin to comprehend the weight of his actions back in the human realm. Viktor is falling in love. Thumbs up!

Cerulean Sepia by RoarkChronicles, 13k (WIP)
As the five-time gold medalist, Viktor usually finds these banquets…. drab. Boy, did he get proven wrong. Great WIP!

Right Off His Feet by EmilianaDarling, Mature, 7.4k
One of Yuuri’s hands is sliding around his waist, guiding him effortlessly until they’re dancing together. Really dancing together, and Viktor forgets to think, to breathe. Yuuri’s so close that Viktor can feel the heat of his breath against the back of his neck, the warmth of his skin through his clothes. SO GOOD OMG

never let yuuri get drunk again by doubletan, Explicit, 2.4k
“Kneel down,” Yuri commanded, and Victor obeyed without a moment hesitation. Victor laughed inwardly, how could he have thought he would be the one commanding Yuri when it was him that had bewitched Victor here in the first place? SPICY YUURI

Lost in Translation by alipiee, Teen, 18k
In which Yuuri gets so drunk he can’t remember the banquet; meanwhile it’s all that Viktor can think about. This fic is so so so great, must read!

keep your eyes on me by luftballons99, Teen, 6.6k
Viktor and Yuuri are less than thrilled at the prospect of attending the banquet following the Sochi Grand Prix Final. 16 glasses of champagne, a drunken dance off, and a stripper pole later, they’re over it. Highly recommend!

Look & See (Undeniably Surprising) by icterine, Teen, 3.5k
This year, Victor Nikiforov falls in love at the Grand Prix Banquet. He’s so glad he decided to show up. Great fic!

i feel like i win when i lose by renaissance, Explicit, 7.9k
Yuuri’s life is a mess. He came a spectacular last in the Grand Prix Finals, drank too much at the banquet, initiated no fewer than three dance-offs, took his shirt off, wore his tie like a headband, pole-danced in his underpants, made a fool of himself in front of ISU officials—and now, somehow, he’s Viktor Nikiforov’s booty call. Rec’d by a follower!

you know actually looking at the seperate trait tree’s you can catch a glimps at minato,yu, and akira’s personalitys- or at least there values

Minato is fighting off a giant case of apathy or depression, and thats reflected in his stats, he cares about academics becouse society demands you be smart, charm becouse you have to convince others your fine/unaffected by things to not make a scene, and courage becouse SOUL DEMONS AND COFFINS POPPIN UP DURING THE DARK HOUR Minato is doing the bare nessesitys for living, and the fact that he reached a level in his stats that is considered above average has him pleased, but otherwise- humble feelings like the wrong word but its the word that imediatly popped in my mind.

meanwhile Yu is over here caring a damn lot about this stuff, from how expressive he is to how well he understands people to his dilligence Yu cares a lot about people and what they think of him. Also praising himself higher then minato thinking himself enthralling,saintly,heroic, practically a sage with rock solid dilligence at max stats, practically a social super star! or at least he needs to know people like him, people are on his side, they wont leave him with a uncle he barely knows and neck deep in HIS households drama on top of a murder investigation involing being bitten by a tv. 

and then we have Akira

Ah Akira, a man who knows exactly how much hype is resting on his shoulders, and living up to every bit of it.

This guy is great, and he fucking knows it.  

he’s not just a sage when it comes to knowledge, he’s an Erudite

hes not just a bad ass, he’s Lion Hearted

 AND DONT GET HIM STARTED ON HIS PROFICIENCY

Akira got spit upon by the system, left to rot in a back alley coffee shop attic with a man who might have been a complete creeper who harvested organs for all akira knew,  and hey with shido burrying the evidence im surprised he didnt.

Everyone else in his life has given up on him, even people who barely knows what his face looks like for half a second. 

Nobody is going to be there for him should push come to shove, so he’s gotte be BETTER

be willing to do things most people wouldnt, smart enough to keep those situations in his favor, proficient enough to execute these plans, charming enough to fool anyone that questions him, and kind enough to not be stay out of the way when he see’s a woman get herassed by  a drunk on the street like everyones telling him to become.

they call her maid maleen

for the first few trembling years of her life, she is a princess. she is the daughter to the king, born of his beloved wife and of her visage. her dark eyes have the appearance of a smoky quarts and her mother carefully twists her mass of black hair into a hundred small braids down her back. she is a beautiful, quiet child, and for a while all is well. they call her princess maleen.

then her mother dies. it seems as if the king is determined to bury his love for his daughter along with his queen. he moves her to a different wing of the castle, and refuses to see her. her tutors are let go, and the nobles’ children are no longer allowed to play with her. only the maids look after her now.

the king remarries. the new queen gives birth to a son, and maleen is forgotten completely, banished from a home she still resides in and a life she can now only watch unfold.

the maids take care of her, braid her hair and kiss the blisters on her fingers, teach her to scrub at porcelain and polish silver, to clean a fireplace and mop polished marble floors.

they call her maid maleen.

~

the king has a son by his new wife, and then a daughter. they are pale and fair-haired like their mother, with only their dark eyes to show they are the king’s children. but they inherit none of their parents’ beauty, have faces that don’t look quite right and bodies that get stuck between gangly and chubby and never settle into one or the other. princess gisella and prince jan are privately regarded as unfortunate products of a lovely union.

maid maleen spends long hours working, and has neither the time nor funds for creams to soften her skin or oils to care for her hair, has never used face powder or lip color.

maid maleen is twenty three years old, and the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

her braids are wrapped carefully atop her head, but when she lets them loose they hang past her hips. her dark skin is made even darker thanks to long hours working in the palace garden, and her eyes have never lost that same curious light. she walks straight and strong, years of hard labor giving her muscles and definition to her body that she never would have had as a princess. boys and girls give her long, considering looks and flirtatious smiles, and nobles have to double-take when she passes them by.

no one speaks of it anymore. but maid maleen looks ever more like her beautiful late mother, has the same eyes as her father, and dressing in ill-fitting cast offs and running her ragged can’t hide the truth.

maid maleen is the king’s daughter.

she has accepted her life as a maid in the palace she was one day set to inherit, and tries to see it as a gift. she sleeps with who she likes, may marry whichever of the charming boys from the city who’s smile she likes best. in the maids who raised her she has more mothers than she has fingers, and perhaps she longs for the days when she was a small princess, when she was the apple of her parents’ eye, when the whole of their nation was to be hers to inherit.

but then the blacksmith’s daughter lets her hands linger a little too long on her wrists, and maleen knows that she won’t be sleeping alone tonight. there are some things that worth more to her than a throne she was born to. she doesn’t miss the little girl she used to be.

until.

tensions have always run high between their kingdom and the neighboring one – too many squabbles over borders, over trade agreements, over patrols, over anything and everything the kings can find a reason to be upset about, it seems like. so when prince wolfgang is sent over, the whole palace is abuzz. the prince seems determined to inherit a peaceful land, and is coming over to talk with the king to do it.

maleen does not care for princes. nor for nobles of any rank, in fact. she remembers how they turned on her, she sees the small acts of pettiness and cruelty they thoughtlessly inflict on their servants, and she wants nothing to do with it. commoners may not be as educated as nobles, may not have as many objects to call their own, but maleen finds she prefers their company to that of lords. she’s uninterested in this prince, which is perhaps why she’s the one that gets sent to his rooms. her moms can trust that she at least won’t fawn over him.

“sir wolfgang,” she murmurs, pushing open his door and giving a low curtsy, keeping her eyes trained on his mud covered boots. “is there anything you require?”

silence. she can only stay bent in a curtsey so long before she loses patience. she’s almost given up on him, is about to cut her losses and call it a night when he says, hesitant, “queen sabine?”

her mother’s name is punch to her gut, and her head snaps up at the sound of it, the rolling fire of her temper bubbling just below her skin. “i am maid maleen,” she snaps, then tacks on “your highness,” after a moment’s consideration.

his cloak is half unbuttoned as he stares at her with a slack mouth. she supposes he would not look unhandsome if he were not currently doing his best to imitate a frog. he appears to be only a handful of years older than she is, and if she were not furious she would be impressed that he remembers her mother well enough to see sabine in her.

“maleen,” he repeats, and for a moment she wonders if he will recognize her as well, but he only says, “my apologies. if you would help me with my cloak, i would be much obliged.”

she’s instantly suspicious. she’s met nice nobles before, ones that were considerate and remembered her name and thanked her when she brought them wine. but she’s never met a nice prince before – they’re always of the worst sort. “yes, your highness,” she says, and the cloak is soaked through and clinging, it’s no wonder he’s struggling with it. once she’s gotten it off she hangs it to dry, then goes back to him. she slaps away his numb, struggling fingers and undoes the rest of the buckles and loops of his overly complicated clothing. she’s gotten down him down to an undershirt and pants when his hands grab hers. she blinks and looks up. he has freckles dusting across his nose.

“this is inappropriate,” he says, but honestly she’s stripped a lot of nobles, it wasn’t weird until he took her hands and looked at her like no one’s ever looked at her before.

“yes, your highness,” she agrees, and takes a step back. she places his clothes in front of a fire, curtsies, and leaves. she can feel the weight of his gaze on her all the way back to her room.

wolfgang continues his diplomatic agenda, having long meetings with the royal family. after, maleen goes and tends to him, setting out his food and taking care of his clothes, straightening up any mess that he’s made. at first he’s quiet, and he just watches her, but he quickly discovers that maleen has opinions and thoughts and isn’t afraid to share them. soon they’re debating the finer points of trade routes and arguing the effectiveness of a sliding tax scale, and maleen comes to cherish the evenings she spends with the prince, likes the way he speaks to her and looks at her, likes the shape of his smile.

weeks in she enters his room, dinner steaming in her hands and eager to continue their conversation about state funded orphanages versus a state funded foster system. he’s pacing and tense, shoulder stiff. “wolfgang,” she sets down the food and wipes her hands on her apron, “is something wrong?”

“is it true?” he asks, and he’s not looking at her. he’s always looked at her before.

“is what true?” she flinches away from his coldness, is already preparing to retreat and hide and beg someone else to watch over him.

he turns to her, and she’s baffled by the mixture of hope and anger on his face. “are you the king’s daughter? are you princess maleen?”

she takes a step back, “i am maid maleen.”

“please,” he follows her as she steps away from him, and her back hits the wall. he stops when he’s almost close enough to touch. “my father sent me here with the goal to seal our new treaty with a marriage. he expects me to marry princess gisella. but if you are the daughter of the king – then he will allow me to marry you instead!”

“who says i want to marry you?” she retorts, but he gets on bended knee and she freezes.

he holds a hand for her own, and against every bit of logic, she gives it to him. “maleen, i’ve never felt this way about anyone. i was willing enough to enter a loveless marriage before i knew what true love is, but now i do, and i can’t go back. marry me.”

she wants to. she thinks she loves him. she hadn’t been planning to fall in love with anyone. “i am the king’s daughter,” she tells him, “but i am no princess. i haven’t been a princess in a long time.”

he brings her hand to his mouth so he can kiss each one of her knuckles, “then we’ll have to change that.”

~

wolfgang goes to the king to make his case, to return maleen to her birthright and allow her to marry him.

it goes even worse than maleen had feared.

her father is furious. he’s so angry at the audacity of this request that prince wolfgang is thrown from the kingdom. so incensed is he, that guards drag maleen from her bed in the middle of the night and throw her into a tower. the door closes shut behind them, and she bangs on it and screams but no one comes for her.

there are no windows, and only one door with a sliding metal grate in the bottom. she’s high in the tower, she thinks, from the number of steps she’d been forced to climb, but she stands on a dirt floor. the room contains only the bare minimum needed for survival, and nothing more.

once a week food is slid through the slot in the door. she has to be careful, because if she eats it too fast they will not provide more, she will just starve. days turn to weeks turn to months, and she despairs of ever being let out of this tower. months turn to years, and she gives up hope entirely of leaving this tower. she considers refusing to eat, killing herself slowly through starvation, because death is preferable to life locked in this tower.

one night there’s a scuffle, and shouting, and for the first time since she was shoved inside the door opens. there’s a guard standing there, and princess gisella tentatively steps inside. “maid ma – i mean, maleen?”

maleen stares. this is the first time she’s seen another person in years, and suddenly for all the screaming she’d done she can’t find her voice. gisella takes another cautious step forward, “maleen, please – we don’t have much time.” she holds out her hand, “come with me.”

gisella is sixteen now. although she’ll never be a great beauty, she’s grown into many of the features that she was once mocked for. “where?” she asks, but takes gisella’s hand and lets her lead them down the twisting staircase. anyplace is better than the tower.

“i’m to be married in a week’s time to prince wolfgang.” maleen feels a sharp pain go through her chest. had wolfgang forgotten her? their farce of a romance was such a quick, shallow thing. she was a fool to fall for it in the first place. “i’m not going to show up. you are.”

she stares, “what?”

“wolfgang started a war over father locking you in the tower,” she explains, “but eventually it got to a point where neither could justify it, so our father and wolfgang’s decided our union would mean peace between our countries, as intended. but i don’t want to marry prince wolfgang, and he does not want to marry me.”

“i don’t understand,” she hadn’t paid much attention to the girl when they were in the palace together, and she’s regretting that now.

they finally reach the end of the tower. it’s the first time she’s breathed fresh air in years. she tries not to get distracted by it, and instead focuses on the carriage to her left, and the pure black mare laden like a pack mule on her right. “i’m leaving,” gisella says, “i don’t want to be wolfgang’s bride because i want to be klaus’s,” the guard smiles, and he must be klaus, the princess is rejecting a prince to run away with a commoner. “there’s a map and everything you need in the saddlebags. the wedding dress is waiting for you at the castle. no one will know you’re not me until wolfgang unveils you, and by then it will be too late. he will marry you, and i will be gone.”

“why are you doing this?” she asks.

gisella shrugs, “you’re my sister, and father is an idiot. i want you to be happy, and i want wolfgang to be happy, and i want to be happy too. this way we all get what we want. our brother will be waiting for you in wolfgang’s castle. he’ll help you.”

maleen is speechless. gisella grabs her in a quick hug – the only one they’ve ever shared – and then goes to the carriage with klaus trailing behind her. “i’ll see you again, princess maleen!”

she doesn’t have time for tears. she gets on the mare, and rides for the palace of the neighboring land.

~

she makes it just in time. she sneaks into the castle the night before the wedding, ducking around servants until she find her way to jan’s door. she knocks, tentative, wondering if this was a mistake and all one elaborate trap. but the door opens and his face slackens in relief, “finally!” he pulls her inside, and sits her down. there’s lukewarm water waiting for her so she can clean herself, and jan stands with his back to her the whole time, outlining the wedding and how it will go so she knows what to expect the next day. “father isn’t here,” he assures her, “he didn’t want to leave the kingdom, so i’m here in his stead.”

“won’t you miss your sister?” maleen finishes washing and wraps herself in a soft blanket.

“when i am king, gisella will return,” he says confidently, “she will come home and bring klaus, and you will rule here with wolfgang, and all will be well. our countries shall be great allies when it is me and wolfgang on the throne.”

he’s only a year older than gisella, just seventeen, and maleen feels oddly old next to them, feels old next to these children who know what they want and take it and don’t let anything stand in their way.

“we need to get your hair rebraided,” he says, “you should look perfect tomorrow. it’s your wedding day.”

she stares, aghast. “that will take all night!”

“i’ve brought help,” he says, and sends a servant down the hall. the servant returns with a half dozen of the maids who raised her, and who crowd forward and hug her and kiss her cheeks and say how much they’ve missed her. princess or not, bride or not, to them she will always be their little maid maleen.

~

it’s clear gisella picked her wedding dress with maleen in mind. it fits her for one thing, and is clinging and heavy, and it must have looked awful on gisella, but on her it’s perfect. her dress is accompanied by white silk gloves and a thick veil so that no one can see her, so that no one will know she’s not the daughter of the king they’re expecting to be there.

wolfgang is at the end of the aisle, looking like he’s going to an execution, and it takes more self control than maleen was anticipating not to go running to him. she turns to him, and he lifts her veil. he sees her and freezes, mouth sliding open. she winks at him, because they just need to keep it together until they’re married, he just has to keep his cool for a few minutes and they’ll have won it all. wolfgang closes his mouth and says nothing about how this is clearly not the bride he was supposed to marry. they turn so none of the guests can see them, and the priest gives maleen a confused look, but with a glare from wolfgang he continues on with the ceremony as if nothing is out of place.

“you may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, after what seems like an eternity.

wolfgang grabs her about the waist, dips her, and kisses her soundly on the mouth. her veil falls off and she can hear the horrified and shocked gasps of the guests, and under that jan’s laughter. when they break apart, foreheads still pressed together, she whispers, “hello, prince wolfgang.”

he kisses her again, quick and sweet, and does nothing at all to disguise the joy in his face. “hello, princess maleen.”

and they all lived happily ever after.


read more retold fairytales here

dean’s hands shake.

they always have. they shake from fear–not during the fight, no, dad made sure his hands were steady when he held his gun. but they shake after, when he allows himself to swallow and realize just how afraid he had been.

they shake from drunkenness. sometimes so badly that he can hardly pick up the bottle to take another swig. he puts his head in them and can feel how they tremble while the familiar images flash in his mind–mom dying, sam dying, cas dying, everyone he loves dying, dying, dying and him being unable to stop it.

they shake from adrenaline. because cas is standing just a little too close, staring just a little too long. he should be used to it by now. and he is, in a way, but he can’t help but feel that they’re at the precipice of something huge. at the edge of a cliff that he’s one second from jumping off of. his hands shake because the words are on the tip of his tongue, pressing at the roof of his mouth to get out. his heart is beating too hard and he’s so close, they’re so close.

they shake from desire. the first time he touches cas’ hip, the knobs at the bottom of his spine. he’s nervous, and that’s not helping, but he’s never pressed his palms and run the pads of his fingers upon anything as breathtaking as cas. cas, who saved him. cas, who saves him everyday, who is saving him right now. he presses his mouth to the angel’s neck, willing his hands to be steady enough to undo the buttons on cas’ shirt.

in the aftermath, cas takes his hands. he kisses each knuckle and finger tip and looks at dean with love so clearly in his eyes that dean has to blink away the wetness forming in his own. peace rushes through him like he’s never felt before, filling his heart and his lungs. he lifts his hands to cas’ face, cradles his jaw, strokes his cheekbones with his thumbs. and look at that, he thinks to himself. perfectly fucking still.