yes it was supposed to look like this

Chose Wisely (Mitch Rapp x Reader)

A/N: What up bitches?!?! This is probably the most I’ve posted in like years so be fucking proud of me. Haven’t seen American Assassin YET but I’ll probably go with my friend to see it on Friday.

Pairing: Mitch x Reader, Stiles x Reader (mentioned)

Fandoms: American Assassin x Teen Wolf (will I ever write normal fics again??)

Warnings: smut, blow jobs, fingering, teasing, squirting the usual, some smoking and a lot of cursing, ANGST

Word Count: 8000+

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Keep reading

Stepping With Time

Thank you @ishipallthings for entertaining my discussion about this fic. I hope you folks have fun :D

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It was probably an expected question but Steve was mildly surprised that Tony Stark had been the first one to ask it.

“What do you mean?” he asked, trying to buy some time to form a more reasonable answer than the one he had in mind.

“What would you like to learn?” Tony repeated, loosening his tie and getting more comfortable on the couch, shooting a lazily amused glance at Steve, “Like Wilson said, you’ve got time to learn and do all that you’d like now. So, what would you like to learn, Cap?”

Steve took a sip of his smoothie and bit back a grimace at the strong taste, shrugging a little at Tony’s curiosity.

“Not sure,” he replied, placing the travel cup back on the coffee table, “Some new martial art, maybe. Natasha said something about classes opening up in a dojo nearby. It would be good to pick up some new techniques.”

He looked at Tony when the silence stretched and found the man eyeing him with a mildly disappointed look, something that didn’t sit right with Steve.

“What?” he asked, probably a bit more brusque than the look deserved but Tony simply shook his head.

“Nothing,” Tony said before making a face, “You know what, no, not nothing. Just - I guess I thought different.”

“I’m not supposed to like martial arts now?”

“Everybody likes martial arts, don’t be stupid,” Tony waved a dismissive hand, “But it’s not something you seem to have been waiting to learn for a while. It’s more of a -” Tony searched for the word before snapping his fingers, “- a necessity, yes. Not a choice. It’s what we need for the job. Sure, you may like it but - you do know that you have the opportunity to learn anything now, right? That’s not a luxury you have always. Thought you’d pick something you wanted not thought you needed, that’s all.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being prepared,” Steve argued, “This job doesn’t take breaks.”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t either,” Tony shot back, unbuttoning his cuffs, rolling his sleeves to show the contrast of olive skin against the pristine white shirt, “Trust me, when your work becomes your life, it kind of gets stagnant.”

“How many hours were you in the workshop again?” Steve challenged and Tony grinned, a flash of even teeth.

“You think all I do is work on SI or Avengers tech down there?” he laughed, “Cap, there’s more life down there than up here. You should come and have a look sometime.”

“You’ll just try to sneak in my shield,” Steve deflected and Tony rolled his eyes but relented.

“Alright, your call, Rogers,” he said and made to get up, “Have fun with krav maga or something then.”

It should have ended with that. It was a miracle when Tony Stark dropped a topic and he had, by the looks of it, so it should have ended there. But Steve watched him get up and stretch, a tired comfort of being home. He had seen Tony in different forms by now, especially after shifting to the Tower with Clint and Natasha, Sam dropping in often; rarely though did he think he actually saw more than the man Tony thought he wanted to see. It was a formal sketch mostly and Steve felt curious about the moments when Tony let the formality drop. He tried to hold on to those moments and find out more, see what made Tony tick.

Maybe it was that curiosity that pushed him to the impulse.

“Dancing,” Steve said abruptly and watched Tony pause, look down at him with a slight frown, “I’ve never - learned to dance.”

“But you like it?” Tony asked, not mocking or teasing or the other million things Steve would have expected from him.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, looking away at the couch for a second, “I think so. We used to go out to try back before the war but - it was either my health or my date or just me not knowing.”

Tony hummed a bit but didn’t comment, letting the silence lay till Steve decided how the conversation went.

“I figure that now, with my better coordination,” Steve shot him a wry smile, parts of it self-aware, “I’ll do better. Just need the right opportunity to dance, I suppose.”

“What, impromptu choreography?” Tony snorted and Steve clenched his jaw, wondering why he tried but Tony’s expression cleared and he sat back down.

“No, no, I’m not - judging you,” he clarified, “It’s something everybody thinks. You know, you’ll find the right partner and then magically transform into Fred Astaire. It’s a nice dream.”

“You don’t agree,” Steve supplied dryly and Tony smiled a bit.

“You never really fought before getting the serum, right?” he asked, picking up Steve’s smoothie to take a sip, “You would have imagined that you’d fight one way but you had to adjust, had to practice to find your real form. It’s the same with anything. You can’t jump into anything without testing. Dancing isn’t that different. Ugh, this tastes horrible.”

“Compliments to the chef,” Steve replied and Tony snorted with a grin.

“I did ask you which fruits you wanted,” he justified himself.

“So you’re saying,” Steve leaned back and eyed Tony, “that I should - learn dancing.”

“I’m saying you should learn what you want to learn,” Tony shrugged, putting the smoothie back down.

Steve considered it momentarily. He hadn’t thought about it much, not after his missed date with Peggy. It wasn’t something that he had found time to think about either.

“I,” he stalled for a moment, “I’ll see if I can find something discreet maybe.”

Tony nodded and fiddled with his phone for a minute before speaking up.

“Or I could teach you”

“What?” Steve blinked and Tony looked up from his phone.

“You want something discreet and honestly, I’m not sure there’s any person who’ll dance with you and not tweet to the entire world,” he quirked a small grin, “If you want, I could teach you instead.”

Steve had watched enough of Tony’s old footage and videos to know that he was a good dancer. It was probably a necessity for him, Steve thought absently.

“You’re usually busy,” Steve pointed out, wondering what madness he was entering.

“And you’re usually complaining about me being busy,” Tony shot back and a thoughtful expression came over, “Huh. That could work.”

“What could work?”

“You want me to start sparring with you, right?” Tony asked, leaning forward with a sharply excited expression, “It’s been what, 40 times now that you’ve hinted at it.”

“It’ll do you good,” Steve maintained exasperatedly.

“Yeah, okay,” Tony nodded, “How about this? I’ll come to spar with you and learn your fighting and you learn to dance with me. It’ll be a deal.”

Steve opened his mouth to contradict but paused. He did want Tony to spar and the man had been reticent about it for a while. He had made a slew of excuses and Steve had begun to think that he didn’t want Steve to try. But he was offering now, a clear offer and deal. For all that they were awkward and unsure about each other, this was the first outright attempt to have a longer interaction.

Tony looked excited and enthusiastic, a wild gleam in his eyes, and Steve made a decision.

“Alright, we have a deal.”

Steve figured that the worst outcome would be just a couple of laughs.

He was wrong. Steve stared at Tony and wondered how wrong he could have been.

“You want me to..show you my moves,” he repeated.

“Now that we’ve established that your hearing is impeccable, how about we get on with it?” Tony nodded and winced when his shoulder twinged, “I think you woke up muscles that didn’t even exist in me before, shit.”

“I told you to stretch better,” Steve reminded but kept standing, “There’s no music here.”

“We’ll get to it, but first I need to see what you’re comfortable with,” Tony explained and walked back to lean against the arm of a chair, “Come on, I’ll even hum for you. Just footwork. Show me the rhythm you like.”

“If you laugh then we’re sparring again,” Steve warned and sighed when Tony did a Scout’s promise sign, “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s only ridiculous if you want it to be,” Tony shook his head, “Listen, just - try with your eyes closed. I’ll hum and you make your count with your eyes closed.”

“That’s even more ridiculous,” Steve muttered but did close his eyes before Tony came up with a weirder idea. He breathed in and waited for the hum.

Tony had a good baritone, Steve thought inanely when he heard the simple hum begin and take flow. It had beats of its own, pauses and inflictions to help get a grasp of the rhythm. Steve breathed out and let his feet tap, shuffling them in place. With his eyes closed, Steve could ignore that he was being watched, that he was being taught, and he let his body adapt to it.

He was into his fourth step in when he felt a hand on his shoulder and another grasping his right hand, smoothly pulling it up to position.

Tony didn’t stop humming and Steve felt stiff but Tony didn’t lead. He didn’t make steps or choreograph a routine. He simply let Steve move to his own rhythm and followed him. The humming went a bit higher and Tony began tapping a finger of the hand holding Steve’s right hand to the beat, a casual rhythm against Steve’s knuckle.

Steve opened his eyes when the humming faded out and saw Tony grinning, but not smug; a strange knowing tinge to it.

“Not bad, Rogers,” Tony commented and moved back, releasing Steve’s hand, “Alright, it seems like you’ve got a ear for beats.”

“That’s what you were testing?” Steve asked, resisting the urge to wipe his hands on his pants. They were warm, a warmth he didn’t understand.

“You were partially deaf before the serum, right?” Tony shrugged and Steve stilled, something Tony noted, “What? I read.”

“I know, just - I didn’t think you paid attention,” Steve said and Tony raised an eyebrow but let it go.

“Alright then, now that we know your natural rhythm, time to start at the basics,” Tony clapped his hands and moved forward, into Steve’s space, “Now place your hand on my waist.”

Steve swallowed and gave Tony a look but the genius simply rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” he informed and picked up Steve’s hand, placing it around his own shoulder, before taking the other hand in position, “Great. Now, we begin on the simple box step. I’ll give the counts and you’ll follow. Once we get a hang of that, you’ll lead and I’ll follow. Okay? Okay, let’s start.”

Steve focused on not holding Tony too tight or falling over his feet but breathed out and moved. Tony didn’t give up or taunt, didn’t call him out on things that weren’t that moment, and Steve let himself be led. They moved around in boxes, the futurist leading a man out of time forward and backward, and Steve found himself counting the beats and not the moments ticking by.

If his mind wandered to a forgotten ball room, then that was between him and his memory. Steve turned and danced, wondering when they could spar again.

The workshop didn’t scare Steve, not with the things he had already seen in the past and future, but it definitely was intimidating when he entered it for the first time.

“Are you sure we can’t do this in the penthouse again?” he asked as he eyed the large expanse of concrete flooring and mechanical maze.

“No,” Tony replied, not bothering with an explanation but put his wrench down and pulled out a rag to wipe his hands, “Don’t worry, nothing will leap at you.”

A bot with a single claw beeped and rolled past Steve, claw clicking around a broom.

“Except for him, he might,” Tony sighed and whistled, “Hey, Dummy, stop lazing around. What’d I tell you? Cap and I need the place without disturbance for a while, so stay in your station. Come on, get back.”

“He understands you,” Steve observed with a sense of mild awe as he saw the bot rolling over to his station.

“Yeah, he doesn’t follow often but yeah, he understands pretty well,” Tony nodded and came forward, “So, second lesson, ready?”

Steve nodded and noted the bruise on Tony’s upper arm from their earlier spar. It had probably been a bad decision to spar with the current mood but Tony had been there and Steve had needed a distraction. The thoughts of Sam’s latest report on Bucky’s sighting had been a constant thrum in his head and Steve had let it get to him.

“Are you,” Steve knew that asking Tony about the injury specifically would never get him an answer, “sure about this? You seem busy.”

“You were busy before the sparring too, doesn’t matter,” Tony brushed it off and Steve could see the edge to his eyes but kept quiet.

They came together in position but Steve was surprised when Tony’s hand fell onto his waist and his own hand was shifted to Tony’s shoulder, right above the injury.

“Let me,” Tony said quietly before commanding JARVIS to put on a simple instrumental tune.

Tony led and Steve felt the warm skin bemeath his palm grab his focus, making sure to not let himself touch the bruise. It felt hot to touch, he knew it, and he felt the guilt chew away at him as he moved his feet around Tony’s.

They were advancing from short boxes to a larger area now, spreading their feet wider over the ground, and Steve connected the movements to the music slowly.

“And one two three, one two three, next turn we’ll shift, you’ll lead I’ll follow,” Tony said and they finished the final box before Tony picked his hand from Steve’s shoulder to his waist, automatically prompting Steve to shift his grip too.

Steve stepped on Tony’s toes and moved to step back but Tony moved with the flow. Steve looked up at him and found the man staring at Steve’s neck instead of his face.

“Did it hurt?” he asked and Tony looked up.

“Did what hurt?” Tony asked back and Steve felt a million hints in that question. There were too many wounds in space and maybe they all hurt.

“It’s fine,” Tony said after a pause and Steve snapped his eyes back to him, “Bruises heal. You try to hurry them and they just get hidden. You gotta give them time. Let them breathe. Keep the beat in the turn now, slow.”

Steve turned them around, feeling his fingers flex on Tony’s waist.

“You should ice it,” he said as he did his best to guide Tony through a round, wondering what they were speaking in circles, “It’ll hurt more otherwise.”

“Ice isn’t always the answer, Cap,” Tony said on an exhale, a finger tapping the beat on Steve’s shoulder, “And you learn a lot from the hurt. Like how to fight better the next time, maybe.”

Steve nodded slowly and rested his cheek against Tony’s temple.

“Dummy is staring at us,” he whispered and Tony paused before huffing a laugh.

“Congrats, somebody finds you interesting,” he laughed and Steve smiled against his hair, feeling the thrum settle in his head as the music flowed on.

Steve had fallen for a right hook once, an irony Bucky had reminded him with a smirk when Steve’s eyes strayed to Peggy in a crowded bar. He had fallen for her fist, her strength and defiance. Bucky had said that it was Steve’s thirst for fights that made him so. Bucky had fallen for Peggy’s waist and red dress hugging it. Steve had kissed her red lips and Bucky had fallen to a red death. Neither of them had lived to fight with her or wrap an arm around her waist.

“That was an unnecessary move,” Tony said, a trickle of blood down his forehead and fire in his eyes. The fight had been brutal, a Hydra base that had anticipated them. Clint and Natasha were filing their reports while Thor was with Bruce, keeping him in control in the Hulk room. Steve and Tony were sitting in their own blood on pristine leatger chairs, facing each other and ready to snap.

Steve wondered what Tony’s anger would taste like on the thin lips.

“We had to shut it down. I had the plan intact,” Steve replied, his own bruised cheekbone twinging with the strain.

“A plan that I told you was stupid,” Tony said sharply, always the counter-point, always the iron to Steve’s will, “I had the numbers. I told you we’d find a better way.”

“We couldn’t wait. They would have erased all evidence,” Steve bit out, missed victories and bleeding failures cracking into his hands.

Tony let his hand fall onto the table, a sharp sound of frustration that echoed throughout the room.

“You know, you can’t lead like this,” he said, his own guilt and fears morphing into anger, “You’ll get killed one day.”

Steve inhaled and tried, tried to not escalate it into a fight.

“You’re safe above in your armour, aren’t you?”

It was ugly and angry and terrifying but it was out there in the open. The fight in the room was beautiful in its horror and they tore into each other, a Helicarrier put to shame. The table’s crack echoed in the room even as Steve watched Tony storm out of it, adrenaline seeping out with him.

Steve was banned from the gym and he locked himself in his floor.

“You’re late,” Tony said as he entered the floor in the evening, sunset drowning the city outside.

“Is knocking or asking for permission a thing at all?” Steve asked without looking back but he bowed his head, feeling grateful for the intrusion. It was dark outside and Tony walkes around the living room couch, standing in front of Steve like a blazing light.

“You know me,” he replied and held out a hand. Steve looked up, wearily staring at Tony’s face that was now clean of dirt and blood.

“What?”

“Our lesson, we have a schedule, Steve,” Tony wiggled his fingers, his chin set to a stubborn tilt.

“We didn’t spar,” Steve reminded even as he eyed Tony’s hand longingly. This man was his bane and his ache and everything that he didn’t know he deserved, and he kept coming back even when Steve didn’t really call him. It felt humbling, kind and demanding, and Steve wanted to hold on and cling.

“We fought,” Tony corrected and cracked a small smile, “You really want to spar right now?”

Steve breathed in and took Tony’s hand, rising up to face him.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said even as his hand found Tony’s waist and Tony’s hand clasped his own in familiarity.

“Stop running away from this, Cap,” Tony rolled his eyes,  fond expression in whiskey brown, “You know you can’t escape me.”

Steve rested his chin above Tony’s head and knew he had fallen with another right hook to his heart. He was always destined for falling for the fighting hands and bloody lips.

Tony followed him and Steve wanted to drag him into his heart.

The gala was an excuse for glamorous torture. Steve had once drawn himself as a dancing monkey but as he stayed aware of the eyes watching Tony drag him onto the dancefloor, he felt like the literal one.

“Relax,” Tony whispered against his ear and Steve leaned in, “It’s just me. We’ve practiced, you got this.”

Tony was beauty in its raw and Steve’s heart ached when he smiled up at him, all masks and mystery and magnetism.

Steve tried to pull back the words even as he pulled Tony around on the dancefloor but Tony held his gaze through his lashes and Steve breathed out.

He loved this man.

“I love you”

Tony froze for a second but they didn’t falter. He was too trained to falter. The dance went on and Steve felt his ears roar as it sunk in that he had dropped a bomb.

“Come with me,” Tony commanded quietly when the dance ended and subtly pulled Steve away, leading him to a library in the mansion.

The door was locked with a flick of Tony’s wrist and he finally turned to look at Steve.

“What was that?”

“Tony..”

“Are you - what was that, a slip if the tongue?” Tony asked, body taut as he held Steve’s gaze.

Lies were easy. Lies were a shadow of Steve’s life and he knew them intimately. He knew to spin them when needed.

He was tired of lying.

“I meant it,” he said quietly, breathing out, “I probably could have said it better but - I do love you, Tony.”

Tony stared at him, a myriad range of emotions flitting through his face. Silence clouded the library, a thousand books of the past watching as the present lay empty in front of them. Finally, Tony let out a exhale through his teeth and sagged.

“You can’t flip switches so soon,” he said, breathing in deep and letting out, “A few weeks ago you weren’t comfortable even talking to me without a solid reason. A few days ago you and I fought so hard that it escalated to blows.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” Steve insisted. His heart was thudding behind his ribs but he kept his voice calm, pleading, open.

“Maybe but it does mean that I don’t have reason to understand or believe this,” Tony sighed, running a hand over his face, “You can’t just drop it on me saying you love me when I haven’t felt that at all. I haven’t felt that you’ve been anywhere close to *loving* me, Steve. Friendship, sure, maybe. But love? People you love need to be able to see that and I - I haven’t seen it. So, forgive me for being sceptical but I can’t just accept this as it is.”

Steve had faced and borne a dozen punches to his gut but this was a supernova of shattering. He stared at Tony and felt a chasm across them, uncertain and hurt.

“I,” Steve breathed in and exhaled slowly, clenching his hands to keep his voice stable, “I’m sorry. I’ll just - I’ll leave now. This won’t become a problem.”

“Wait,” Tony stopped him and Steve didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see rejection morph into pity but he had always been helpless in the face of his own heart. He looked up at Tony and found a pained expression in his face before the man swallowed and spoke again.

“I’m not saying it’s a problem,” he said slowly, finding words out of a jumble, “I don’t know what this is.”

“I understand, Tony, I -”

“I want to know how you love me,” Tony cut in and Steve fell silent. The brunet took a step forward, awkward and stilted like it never was when they danced. “I’ve seen you when you are friends with people. With - me, too. But,” he waved a hand vaguely, “I don’t know the signs of you being in love.”

“Do people have those?” Steve asked and Tony laughed with a bitter tinge.

“Yeah, trust me, I’d know,” he shook his head and refocused on Steve, “I work with proof, Steve. I always do. Moments, reactions, looks - these are signs I know. I don’t- I don’t know what your signs are.”

“You don’t believe me,” Steve surmised but Tony shook his head again.

“I don’t have any data to build belief yet,” he said and took another step forward, “I’m not saying you don’t love me or that I don’t want that too but, I want to see how that works. How we work, how you work with this new development.”

“Tony?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” Tony stopped inches away from Steve and smiled a little, wry but real, “let’s start again, okay? We skipped a lot of steps here apparently, because there’s so much to do, so much to know and share before you know love, Steve. There’s no rush to it, there’s no time limit or record to set.”

“I waited too long once,” Steve confessed, hope warring with longing and Tony must have read it, now that he knew to look for something he must have seen something because his gaze softened.

“Don’t anticipate a crash before we even fly, Cap,” he whispered and Steve forced his eyes to stay open, to hold the words he was hearing and sight he was getting, “We have our own world now. Let’s explore it first before we dive?”

Steve let his eyes roam over Tony’s face and let his head drop, forehead touching Tony’s.

“Slow?” he asked and Tony chuckled a little, the tension seeping out as his hand found Steve’s shoulder, curling closer than the way a friend’s would.

“Let me teach you,” he whispered and Steve let himself fly instead of falling, let himself hope instead of rushing.

He had gotten used to falling too soon but Tony was good with parachutes and flying.

“It’s a deal” he agreed and found something new to learn.

Dancing during date-nights was a luxury, a gift. They didn’t have time for it always and their dates were usually after a long day or a meeting or a fight. They were mostly seeped in exhaustion but over the five months they had been dating, Steve knew that every exhausting evening was worth the time. Tony would forget to do the dishes or file his reports or call after trips but he never forgot date nights and Steve had understood why this was so much better than a rushed kiss and longing for a missed dance. This was learning and practice, a test and trial and result oriented routine that brought a calm with it. It was a climb and the starry night that came every day, a surety that built over time and Steve had stopped expecting rejection over its continuity.

“Something special?” he asked as Tony offered him a hand, knowing the warmth of that hand even before he took it.

“It’s a good day,” Tony smiled and Steve found his place in Tony’s waist, the space he had learnt over lessons and leisure.

“That’s good,” he said against Tony’s hair and led him to the sway of the music.

“I feel like learning something,” Tony spoke after a while and Steve stroked a hand down his back.

“Hmm? What would you like to learn?” Steve asked with his eyes closed and Tony rested his head against Steve’s chest.

“Teach me to love”

Steve smiled and held Tony against his heart.

“I take thee, Claire, to be my wife …”

His voice didn’t shake, but his hand did. I tightened my grip. Our stiff fingers clenched together like boards in a vise. “… to love, honor and protect … for better and for worse …” The words came from far away. The blood was draining from my head. The boned bodice was infernally tight, and though I felt cold, sweat ran down my sides beneath the satin. I hoped I wouldn’t faint. 

There was a small stained-glass window set high in the wall at the side of the sanctuary, a crude rendering of John the Baptist in his bearskin. Green and blue shadows flowed over my sleeve, reminding me of the tavern’s public room, and I wished fervently for a drink. 

My turn. I stuttered slightly, to my fury. “I t-take thee, James …” I stiffened my spine. Jamie had got through his half creditably enough; I could try to do as well. “… to have and to hold, from this day forth …” My voice came stronger now. 

“ ’Til death us do part.” The words rang out in the quiet chapel with a startling finality. Everything was still, as though in suspended animation. Then the minister asked for the ring. 

There was a sudden stir of agitation and I caught a glimpse of Murtagh’s stricken face. I barely registered the fact that someone had forgotten to provide for the ring, when Jamie released my hand long enough to twist a ring from his own finger. 

I still wore Frank’s ring on my left hand. The fingers of my right looked frozen, pallid and stiff in a pool of blue light, as the large metal circlet passed over the fourth finger. It hung loose on the digit and would have slid off, had Jamie not folded my fingers around it and enclosed my fist once more in his own. 

More mumbling from the priest, and Jamie bent to kiss me. It was clear that he intended only a brief and ceremonial touching of lips, but his mouth was soft and warm and I moved instinctively toward him. I was vaguely conscious of noises, Scottish whoops of enthusiasm and encouragement from the spectators, but really noticed nothing beyond the enfolding warm solidness. Sanctuary. 

We drew apart, both a little steadier, and smiled nervously. I saw Dougal draw Jamie’s dirk from its sheath and wondered why. Still looking at me, Jamie held out his right hand, palm up. I gasped as the point of the dirk scored deeply across his wrist, leaving a dark line of welling blood. There was not time to jerk away before my own hand was seized and I felt the burning slice of the blade. Swiftly, Dougal pressed my wrist to Jamie’s and bound the two together with a strip of white linen. 

I must have swayed a bit, because Jamie gripped my elbow with his free left hand. 

“Bear up, lass,” he urged softly. “It’s not long now. Say the words after me.” It was a short bit of Gaelic, two or three sentences. The words meant nothing to me, but I obediently repeated them after Jamie, stumbling on the slippery vowels. The linen was untied, the wounds blotted clean, and we were married. 

There was a general air of relief and exhilaration on the way back down the footpath. It might have been any merry wedding party, albeit a small one, and one composed entirely of men, save the bride. 

We were nearly at the bottom when lack of food, the remnants of a hangover, and the general stresses of the day caught up with me. I came to lying on damp leaves, my head in my new husband’s lap. He put down the wet cloth with which he had been wiping my face. 

“That bad, was it?” He grinned down at me, but his eyes held an uncertain expression that rather touched me, in spite of everything. I smiled shakily back. 

“It’s not you,” I assured him. “It’s just … I don’t think I’ve had anything at all to eat since breakfast yesterday—and rather a lot to drink, I’m afraid.” 

His mouth twitched. “So I heard. Well, that I can remedy. I’ve not a lot to offer a wife, as I said, but I do promise I’ll keep ye fed.” He smiled and shyly pushed a stray curl off my face with a forefinger. 

I started to sit up and grimaced at a slight burning in one wrist. I had forgotten that last bit of the ceremony. The cut had come open, no doubt as a result of the fall I had taken. I took the cloth from Jamie and wrapped it awkwardly around the wrist. 

“I thought it might have been that that made ye faint,” he said, watching. “I should have thought to warn ye about it; I didna realize you weren’t expecting it until I saw your face.” 

“What was it, exactly?” I asked, trying to tuck in the ends of the cloth. 

“It’s a bit pagan, but it’s customary hereabouts to have a blood vow, along with the regular marriage service. Some priests won’t have it, but I don’t suppose this one was likely to object to anything. He looked almost as scared as I felt,” he said, smiling. 

“A blood vow? What do the words mean?” 

Jamie took my right hand and gently tucked in the last end of the makeshift bandage. 

“It rhymes, more or less, when ye say it in English. It says: 

‘Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. 

I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. 

I give ye my Spirit, ’til our Life shall be Done.’ ” 

He shrugged. “About the same as the regular vows, just a bit more … ah, primitive.” 

I gazed down at my bound wrist. “Yes, you could say that.” 

I glanced about; we were alone on the path, under an aspen tree. The round dead leaves lay on the ground, gleaming in the wet like rusted coins. It was very quiet, save for the occasional splat of water droplets falling from the trees. 

“Where are the others? Did they go back to the inn?” 

Jamie grimaced. “No. I made them go away so I could tend ye, but they’ll be waitin’ for us just over there.” He gestured with his chin, in the countryman’s manner. “They’re no going to trust us alone ’til everything’s official.” 

“Isn’t it?” I said blankly. “We’re married, aren’t we?” 

He seemed embarrassed, turning away and elaborately brushing dead leaves from his kilts. 

“Mmmphm. Aye, we’re married, right enough. But it’s no legally binding, ye know, until it’s been consummated.” A slow, fierce blush burned its way up from the lacy jabot. 

“Mmmphm,” I said. “Let’s go and find something to eat.”

anonymous asked:

This is the first time I've met someone like myself. Can you shift as well? - @badlydrawnwolftaro

“Ah! Yes, of course!”

“Though… it is a bit straining at times, haha;; I just don’t have the stamina I used to have, I suppose…

And say… you look quite like someone I know, hmhm~” @badlydrawnwolftaro

anonymous asked:

What about the story of Evie? That's tied in with cleverbot she's the face of it.

Ok, Evie’s story:

Basically, you know those Neil AI bots in the calculators? Evie was supposed to be a Neil Bot. He made it at the same time he made cleverbot and paired them. Yes, it’s cleverbot with a face but, the face was supposed to look a little like Neil. When cleverbot overran itself, since they’re paired, it thought it was a woman named ‘Evie.’ Then somehow was able to change the face on it’s own.

Now you know, Evie.

Things the Hogwarts Houses say

(loosely based on conversations I’ve had/overheard)

Hufflepuff -

  • “If you don’t start singing along to High School Musical with me in under 30 seconds you will no longer be my best friend" 
  •  "I swear on my chicken nuggets-”
  • “Yes I made that joke up by my self - no it’s not from Spongebob Squarepants how dARE YOU-”
  • “Speaking of Spongebob can we just take a few moments to discuss how much of a masterpiece that first movie was please”
  • “Ah yes, it’s 3 in the morning, time to get emotional and tell all my friends how much I love them”
  • “You made me chocolate??? Oh my God I love you so much thank you I’ll have some right no - THIS HAS RAISINS IN IT YOU TRICKED ME
  • “Oh my God yeah I saw that movie, my favourite part was when - oh shit wait there’s this adorable kitten video I meant to show you last week and I completely forgot let me get it up on my phone”
  • “Sorry I’m late I was up all night watching those videos where kids get surprised with puppies”
  • “Are you awake? Great, let’s start planning our future homes together, I have a pinterest board ready”
  • “This is my favourite photo album! It’s full of photos of all the cats and dogs I’ve made friends with on my walks, I’ve even given them all names”
  • (crying) “Stop calling me emotional God damn it”

Ravenclaw -

  •  "Of course I remember you said you liked the colour red, you told me at like 1:35 am last year in May"
  • “What? Simplifying equations? No, I can’t help with that but I do know all the words to every Simpsons episode in the first 5 seasons if that helps"
  • “Sorry I really can’t go out today. No I’m fine, I’m just stressed I’m doing something important. I’m trying to memorise all the words to this documentary about frogs - What? Yes of course it’s important!”
  • “I discovered and fully analysed that meme 3 weeks ago, step up your game”
  • “What do you mean why do I have a folder full of strategic plans on how to succeed at animal crossing, that’s not weird?”
  • “Sir, I don’t mean to be rude but I’ve been doing my own research and you’re getting all of this wrong. Well yes I know I’m not the teacher here but - Yes, actually, I’d love to teach the class my self I’ve already made a lesson plan, thank you”
  • No, I won’t come and see Jurassic World with you. Because it’s completely unrealistic! Do you have any idea what dinosaurs are actually supposed to have sounded and looked like? Even adult velociraptors weren’t meant to be that b - OK you know what, I will come, but I’ll be pointing out every single problem to you. No, it’s too late, you already invited me. I’m buying our tickets right now, don’t move”
  • “You really think you can beat me at Mario Kart? I have spent YEARS studying this game and honing my skills, spending hours upon hours training until my hands cramp and even my tv is judging the amount of time I’ve spent playing and you think YOU can beat me? Let’s fucking go
  • “I think these guys think I want to murder them because I followed them home but it’s only because I overheard them talking about what would happen if Pokemon is real and I wanted to see how good their logic was”
  • “Shut up? Shut up? I haven’t shut up for 17 years and I’m not about to start now”
  • (crying) "I just want Shakespeare’s ghost to be proud of me”

Gryffindor - 

  • “I’d love to have a sleepover but it can only be when there’s a thunderstorm so we can dance in the rain, let me check the weather forecast”
  • “Did that bee just try and sting you? COME BACK HERE BEE YOU COWARD I’M GONNA FUCK YOU UP - wait shit no run”
  • "What did you say? Don’t touch it? Alright.” (touches it as soon as the person turns away) “Sucker”
  • “Whaaat? Someone wrote on the desk? No it wasn’t me I would never do th - My name was there? Well, I’m not the only one in the world with my na - My surname was there too? What are the chances?!”
  • “Help me I started saying lmao ironically and I can’t stop”
  • “Before you say anything it wasn’t me - unless it was something awesome then I definitely planned the whole thing”
  • Excuse me? They said what to you? … I have to go for a second, I just remembered something completely unrelated. No, no, I’m not taking this fork with me for any particular reason”
  • “Um, did you just tell me it’s impossible to sing along to a guitar solo? Stand back. Your mind is about to get blown”
  • “I am so not drunk! I’m completely drunk! … Wait shit I meant sober”
  • “I’M SO PROUD OF YOU AAAH LET ME HUG YOU! I’M NOT LETTING GO FOR THE NEXT 3 HOURS, GET COMFORTABLE BITCH”
  • “I bet I can stay up for longer than you - what no I’m not tired shut up - nO THAT WASN’T A YAWN I WAS JUST SHOWING YOU WHAT IT WOULD LOOK LIKE IF I WAS TIRED - SEE I DID IT AGAIN TOTALLY ON PURPO - ok fuck you I’m going to sleep”

Slytherin - 

  • “Oh my God, just tell me what you did already so I can start complaining”
  • “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Did you say STOP saying fuck, or KEEP ON saying fuck?”
  • “Over your dead body? I was hoping you’d say that”
  • “If you even LOOK at them one more time I will take a stick as big as your ego and stick it right up your-”
  • “Don’t come near me or - OK fine, we can snuggle for exactly 15 minutes. I’m setting a timer now”
  • “Hey, I saw you posted a picture of us on instagram yesterday where my eyeliner isn’t completely straight? You’re gonna have to delete that, if anyone thinks my eyeliner isn’t drop dead perfect every day and that I’m not a literal make up goddess I’ll lose my reputation as the Regina George of the school”
  • “But keep the one where I’m wearing no make up so that all those bitches know I still kill it without trying”
  • “Oh come on, you know I’d never do anything to embarrass you! Speaking of which, that video I posted on youtube the other day of you falling down the flight of escalators in the shopping centre has reached over 1000 views”
  • “My dad told me tattoos were trashy so I got a giant tattoo saying ‘trashy’ on my back I’ll send you his reaction later”
  • “I’m not a sentimental person but if you touch my teddy bear I will turn you into a stuffed trophy to put next to him”
  • “What do you mean I look smug this is my normal face”
I was thinking about that churro lady
  • Peter either swung down to her because he saw that she was confused or she just like tapped this random spandexed stranger on the shoulder to ask for directions
  • Both are so hilarious to imagine
  • “You’re the hero! The one on the news!”
  • “Yes ma’am, th-thank you”
  • Peter getting really happy because a stranger just called him a hero
  • Him beaming through the mask
  • “I’m supposed to meet my son at this little coffee shop on 31st” 
  • “Oh yeah! I go there all the time with my aunt”
  • Peter getting paranoid because revealing that he has an aunt might have somehow compromised his identity 
  • Him pointing down the street a couple of different ways
  • He has to bend down a little bit to talk to her which feels nice because he’s self-conscious about his height
  • The lady pats him on the hand and says “Thank you, thank you”
  • “Yeah, yeah, no problem, Miss”
  • She sees the churro cart across the street as Peter’s beginning to leave
  • “Oh! Wait!”
  • He sees where she’s looking and jogs back to her side
  • “Do you like churros, sir?”
  • “Yeah, yeah, churros are, uhm, churros are good”
  • Peter being flustered again because she called him “sir”
  • He sub consciously deepens his voice a little bit for the rest of the conversation after that comment
  • “I’m going to buy you one. C’mon, c’mon”
  • Peter insisting that “it’s fine, it’s fine, I - I just ate lunch”
  • “Nope. I’m buying you a churro”
  •  He’s really smiling now
  • “Thanks, Ms. Lady”
  • He helps her across the street and she tells him about how she used to get churros all the time with her kids “but now they’re a little too old for that”
  • “No one’s too old for churros”
  • She laughs a little bit “Yes, I suppose”
  • She gets the churro and the guy behind the stand is in  a w e
  • She insists on getting multiple napkins for him to hold it with
  • “We don’t want your… costume to be getting dirty now, do we?”
  • Peter resisting the urge to inform her that it is not a costume, it’s a suit
  • Just agreeing instead
  • Karen adds that “Mr. Stark would not be happy if you got your suit dirty”
  • Peter jumping a bit because he’s still not used to his new suit and Suit Lady
  • “My grandson really likes you, you know. He always looks for you out the apartment window”
  • Peter’s heart swelling
  • “Wow, that’s - that’s awesome. Uhm, tell him I said ‘hi’, tell him Spiderman says ‘hi’”
  • “Alrighty, dear, I will”
  • Her insisting that she remembers the way to the coffee shop
  • “Okay, uhm, thanks for the churro, I’ll eat it on my way home, thanks a lot”
  • She smiles and pats him on the shoulder and walks down the street
  • Peter totally downplaying how giddy he was that someone recognized him when he called to give his report for the night
The Health Care Freedom Act: A Transcript

INT. SENATE FLOOR - NIGHT

SEN. MCCONNELL addresses the august body.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Okay, idiots. We’ve had seven years of the Obamacare hellscape, which, as everyone agrees, has ruined our country, killed jobs, slaughtered animals, and set the Bible on fire. But now the GOP is in charge – and it’s time for this national nightmare of “sick people being able to maybe not die or go bankrupt” to end.

SEN. SCHUMER
Okay, you’ve been talking about a replacement bill for eight years. Let’s see what you got.

SEN. CORNYN
Whoa whoa whoa – you’re being a little “pushy” there, Chuck.

SEN. SCHUMER
That’s usually code for “Jewish.”

SEN. CORNYN
Nobody said “Jewish.” I said “pushy.” You’re being pushy, is what I said. Don’t put words in my mouth. Anyway: read it and weep: the American Freedom Bald Eagle Old Glory Healthcare for Everyone with No Exceptions “It’s Gonna Be So Easy” Act.

SEN. WARREN
…Where is it? We haven’t seen it yet. Can we see it?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No.

SEN. JOHNSON
A little history for you: when the Democrats wrote “Obummercare” –

SEN. MCCONNELL
(chuckles)
Nice.

They high-five.

SEN. JOHNSON
– they did it in secret, in scarcely 16 months, behind closed doors, with not even 100 Republican amendments, and barely 70 public hearings.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Like you can craft anything good in 16 months!

SEN. CORNYN
In contrast to that undemocratic process, we, the GOP, spent literally dozens of minutes crafting this, over chicken caesar wraps and Arnold Palmers, earlier today in the senate dining room.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Enough talking. We’ve been discussing this bill for almost eight minutes. Time to vote.

SEN. WARREN
Can we see the bill?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No.

SEN. SCHUMER
Can we offer amendments?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No.

SEN. WYDEN
Can we have public hearings?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No. Go back to Oregon, you dirty hippie.

SEN. COLLINS
I’m voting no, Mitch. This bill is terrible.

SEN. MURKOWSKI
I’m voting no too. It’s an abomination.

SEN. MCCONNELL
(shakes his head sadly)
Broads. Look, I know the bill is miserable. It would crash the insurance markets immediately. But who cares? This is just symbolic. This bill isn’t going to be a law. We’re just doing it to initiate a conference with the House, so we can actually pass a real bill later.

SEN. JOHNSON
I just got a text from Paul Ryan. The House might just pass this bill.

SEN. MCCONNELL
They might pass it?! Why the hell would they pass this bill we are about to pass?!

SEN. GRAHAM
(fanning himself)
This bill is abhorrent. It’s absurd, I say. I shudder to think what would happen if it became an actual law!

SEN. SCHUMER
So how will you vote?

SEN. GRAHAM
Oh I’m voting “yes.”

SEN. CAPITO
This bill would devastate the people of West Virginia!

SEN. PORTMAN
It would ruin lives! My own governor hates it!

SEN. SCHUMER
You’re both voting for it, though, right?

SEN. PORTMAN
Oh yeah.

SEN. CAPITO
No question. Voting “yes.”

SEN. HARRIS
Can we read the bill now?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No. Any word from Ryan?

SEN. CRUZ
I’ve been texting him a lot. No word. Oh – hang on, he’s writing back…I see the little bubbles.

SEN. MCCONNELL
What’d he say?

SEN. CRUZ
“New phone, who dis?” Guess I have the wrong number.

SEN. MCCONNELL
No, that’s his number. It’s just: nobody likes you.

SEN. JOHNSON
Ryan just texted me. I asked him if he could guarantee the House wouldn’t just pass our bill.

SEN. MCCONNELL
What’d he say?

SEN. JOHNSON
(reading)
“Look, this is complicated. This stuff gets a little wonky – I don’t want to bore you with the nerdy, wonky details. I’m kind of a policy geek, so I kind of get down in there with the nitty-gritty stuff, that other people are bored by, because they’re not policy geeks like me.”

SEN. MCCONNELL
…He didn’t answer your question.

SEN. CRUZ
(checking Johnson’s phone)
Let me see what number you have for him…yeah, that’s the same number I have. Weird.

SEN. MCCONNELL
It’s not weird. No one likes you.

SEN. GRAHAM
(lying on fainting couch)
My fellow members of this most august body, don’t you see we are headed for a disaster? This bill cannot pass! It would upend generations of Senatorial norms and procedure, and devastate the very fabric of American society!

SEN. SCHUMER
Still voting for it, though?

SEN. GRAHAM
Oh yeah, still a solid “yes.”

SEN. MURKOWSKI
I’m still a “no,” by the way.

SEN. COLLINS
Me too.

SEN. MCCONNELL
No one cares, ladies. Go get your hair blown out or whatever.

SEN. HARRIS
Can we read the bill now?

SEN. MCCONNELL
(angry)
No! Why are there all these women haranguing me?! How many goddamned women are in the Senate now, 95?!

SEN. WARREN
Twenty.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Seems like 95. Look: no one gets to read the bill. It’s not a real bill! It’s not supposed to become a law!

SEN. JOHNSON
What if the House just passes it?

SEN. MCCONNELL
Call that little pissant Paul Ryan and tell him they better not!

SEN. JOHNSON
(dials)
Paul? It’s Ron Johnson. You better not pass this bill that we are about to pass, because we don’t want it to pass, even though we are gonna pass it!

SEN. MCCONNELL
What’d he say?

SEN. JOHNSON
He said the process of passing bills is wonky, and it’s hard to explain, and he’ll try not to bore me with the wonky details.

SEN. CRUZ
Let me talk to him.
(takes phone)
Paul? It’s Ted. Listen, bud –
(beat)
Oh, sorry. Okay.
(hangs up)
It was the wrong number.

SEN. MCCONNELL
We were already talking to him, moron.

SEN. PORTMAN
No one likes you.

SEN. WARREN
Can we read the bill?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No. No more women talking. Time to vote. It’s a fake bill, and if the House passes it and all hell breaks loose, we can just blame Hillary or something.
(calling out)
Who wants to pass a fake disastrous bill that, if it became law, would cause the insurance markets to collapse, and 18 million people to immediately lose health care, but who gives a crap, because it’d be the House’s fault and no one pays attention to this stuff anyway?

49 REPUBLICANS
Yay!

48 DEMOCRATS
Nay!

SENS. MURKOWSKI AND COLLINS
Nay.

SEN. MCCONNELL
(aside)
Must be that time of the month.

SEN. CRUZ
Nice!

Cruz goes to high-five McConnell, who ignores him.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Okay, one more vote. John?

SEN. MCCAIN
I vote no.

Everyone loses their minds.

AMERICAN MEDIA
MCCAIN VOTED NO! MAVERICK! ONCE AGAIN HE DEFIES THE PARTY! HERO! NO ONE HAS EVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS!

SEN. MURKOWSKI
…I voted “no” as well.

SEN. COLLINS
Yeah, Lisa and I are also Republicans who defied–

AMERICAN MEDIA
WE REPEAT: THIS IS UNPRECEDENTED! LITERALLY ONLY JOHN MCCAIN WOULD EVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS! PLUS HE HAS CANCER – AND HE STILL CAME HERE AND VOTED!

SEN. HIRONO
I have Stage 4 kidney cancer, and I voted –

AMERICAN MEDIA
JOHN MCCAIN JUST DID SOMETHING THAT LITERALLY NO OTHER MAN IN THE HISTORY OF AMERICA WOULD EVER DO EVER!

SEN. CRUZ
Bummer, huh guys? Anyone want to come over to my place, get some wings, watch a little “Life of Brian?” No? Rain check, then.

Flourish. Exeunt. Curtain.

Following this post and a lot of anon back and forth, here’s the alpha crew as a few other of the Voltron characters!

Not Yet

“Are you in love?”

“Not yet,” says Cas.

“What’s - what’s that supposed to mean?”

Cas considers him.

“It’s just,” says Dean, “I kinda - you made me think like you’d say yes, man. I really thought -”

“You misunderstand me,” Cas says. “Or perhaps I should have answered more completely. I… am falling in love with you, currently. But I am not yet finished.”

“Finished?” It’s put an end to the look of hurt in Dean’s eyes, at least. Now he just looks confused.

“Well,” says Cas. “In love is something that sounds final. An end point, a… goal. But I am not at the end point yet. I can’t be, because every day I fall for you… more.” He clears his throat. “I notice something new about you, or you say something you’ve never said before, or you say something you have said before. The things that make me love you deeper are very diverse in nature.”

Dean, by this point, looks struck dumb. Cas continues, to fill the space.

“So I’m not all the way in love, not yet. I don’t know if I ever will be. But I am falling in love with you, Dean. All the time.”

Dean likes it. Cas can tell by the way he smiles down at his hands, as though at a joke, like he can’t believe it.

“Ask me,” Dean says. Cas doesn’t waste time pretending not to understand.

“Are you in love?” he asks.

Dean smiles.

“Not yet,” he says.

No filter witchcraft: let’s be fucking honest

So something occurred to me today.

I’m sure this is true of Tumblr and social media as a whole, and not just Witchblur, but it seems like a lot of witches, particularly if they are new, feel a certain degree of guilt when they see all these posts by Elder Witches with Ye Olde Grand Altar with Flawless Aesthetic and Perfect Perfectness at all times.

And let’s be honest.

None of us actually fucking live like that.

Our altars get dusty. Our workspaces get cluttered. Maybe our space isn’t very ideal to begin with, when we’re not carefully cropping out the crappy edges. Don’t lie: at most times apart from when we’re taking pictures for Witchblur or IG, it can look, well… not exceptionally magical. And certainly not as straight-up supernatural as it does after we’ve gotten done editing it within an inch of its life.

So I propose that on Saturdays (or any day, I do suppose), as an act of encouragement and solidarity to witches – and baby witches especially – who are feeling guilty for not being something that doesn’t fucking exist, we post #nofilterwitchcraft.

Take a picture of anything having to do with your witch-ness, that is not tailored for perfection, not carefully pruned, not super aesthetic, and throw it up on Witchblur or IG. It doesn’t have to be a working, per se. It can be anything, as long as it’s witch-related in some way.

Here’s mine.

This is my usual workspace, which is a tiny side table which usually shares space with my ugly speakers and in this case, also some random hair shit. Also in-frame is my extremely ugly early 2000′s fold-away caravan mattress (which I couldn’t be fucked to actually fold up today), and my cover-less duvet. In other words, I am more or less a mess.

Let’s see yours. Tag #nofilterwitchcraft and I’ll reblog if you want.

RFA Wrong Text

I am alive! Hmu in my ask and talk to me if y’all want. This is a little filler before i go into all the request i haven’t done yet 


The person is in bold and MC is in italics

YOOSUNG:

  • Zen hyung! she looked so pretty today I feel like other people would snatch her if I don’t make a move now
  • Who looked pretty today???
  • MC obviously, hyung we’ve been talking about her for the past days already you even gave me advice on how to ask her out
  • Oh
  • Oh? what do you mean oh?
  • Well… she’ll say yes, I don’t think you have to go through lengths to ask her
  • How do you know???!?
  • Well one, I’m not Zen
  • ……
  • ……..
  • …………
  • OH MY GOD MC YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSE TO SEE THAT
  • You little cutie, pick me up on 7 this saturday? <3
  • Um uh okay! sure! 

ZEN:

  • Seven you might be a little weird for my taste but help me out
  • ???
  • I don’t know what to do with MC man I like her so much my chest tightens everytime I see her
  • Oh….. wow
  • Yeah I mean did you see her with that other dude! I was ready to just grab her and leave
  • Well, you should’ve. That would have been fine
  • I can’t just do that I mean I want her to be mine but she’ll need time to accept me and all that 
  • I do accept you ^^
  • Um Seven that was kind of weird
  • wait
  • hold on
  • MC WAIT OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY
  • Oh my god I think I creeped you out I’m sorry you had to find out this way
  • Don’t worry I like you too
  • Oh uh! um then lets date
  • I mean let’s go on a date first yeah
  • Sure, I mean I’m yours right? <3

JUMIN:

  • Assistant Kang I need some…. assistance
  • Yes Mr. Han?
  • I need you to order the most expensive bouquet from a famous flower shop
  • What is it for, Mr. Han? Is it a congratulatory bouquet?
  • No it’s for MC
  • MC?
  • I… need to give her a token of my appreciation
  • Like, as a friend?
  • Preferably as my companion
  • Your girlfriend?
  • Yes.
  • Is the order done?
  • Jumin! it was fun messing around as Jaehee for once but you don’t need to give me something as expensive as that! 
  • MC? 
  • Yes it’s me
  • No I want to give it to you, expect it this week and expect me to ask you to be my beloved
  • mc blushes really You don’t need to ask such a question, I’m already saying yes

JAEHEE:

  • Yoosung, I know you’re quite young but what do young people want these days?
  • What young people want?
  • Yes… in regards to love and couples
  • ???
  • It’s absurd of me to be asking but I want to do something about my crush towards MC but I don’t know what she wants
  • She only wants you
  • Oh that’s quite forward, I’m not so sure about that
  • Check the name, Jaehee :)
  • MC!!? Oh no forget I said that
  • Forget? No way! I like you too <3

SEVEN:

  • Seven the defender of justice can do everything and can work my way through anything! But……………. Help me Jumin I promise you I won’t touch a single fur Elly if you do
  • I’m not sure I can do that 
  • Please just hear me out!! 
  • It’s just… I’m a secret agent, Jumin I can’t like anybody
  • Seven…
  • But MC! She just, worked her way into my heart. I can’t be closer to her and put her in danger Jumin. I can’t lose her.
  • You won’t lose her
  • It’s not that easy! All her actions, her kindness, her words it just makes my heart speed up more. I don’t think I can bear more of it without doing something but it’s too dangerous
  • Do you like her?
  • I…. love her
  • Then just be with her
  • I don’t think I can and if I will, what’ll I do?
  • Kiss me 
  • Kiss? huh 
  • SHIT MC WAIT
  • WAIT WAIT WAIT 
  • FLOOD
  • FLOD
  • DLDO
  • DLOFFF
  • You can’t undone what’s done, Seven
  • AAAAAAH NO LET ME DIE IN A HOLE
  • Calm down… I love you too
  • MY HEART CANT TAKE MORE OF THIS MC
  • Then come to me, I’ll be waiting <3

SAERAN:

  • Saeyoung you’re an idiot right? Then what should I do about my idiot emotions
  • You should probably just let your idiot emotions out why what’re you feeling?
  • Like… I wanna just lay down and have MC in my arms because her touch is more calming than I thought it would be or just pin MC to a wall and make out with her, taste her. She’s so addicting Saeyoung and shit I feel like throwing up saying all these things forget it I’ll delete this message later
  • SAERAN
  • What
  • THATS UNFAIR COME HERE RIGHT NOW AND MAKE OUT WITH ME
  • What the hell has gotten into you
  • WHAT THE HELL HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU CHECK WHO YOU’RE TEXTING DUMBASS 
  • ….
  • I’m done, don’t talk to me
  • NO COME HERE 
  • Stop shouting
  • IM NOT SHOUTING IM IN CAPS LOCK BECAUSE IM HAPPY, NOW COME HERE YOU IDIOT AND CUDDLE WITH ME
  • No screw you
  • I bet you’d like to ;)
  • unknown has left the chatroom

But why are the aliens always such…. Pushovers? I mean. Everything I’ve seen so far is like, “oh, that is what human Sarah does that’s cool even though it’s 100% against my very instincts.”

Just… Gimme some “Human Sarah while you are on my ship bearing your teeth and “hugging” are both prohibited. I understand you do this to show joy, but you could cause the Rythverians on the ship to eat their offspring and vomit out their spleens. Please be respectful of your crew members’ different races.“

Or

"Oh, I see. So by tapping my nails on the table when I’m bored it causes your alien brain to completely shut down? Kind of like that time I got way too drunk at a high school party and woke up in a tree?” Human Jack looked at Vropne with big curious doe eyes.

“In lamens terms, yes, I suppose. But please stop referring to me as an alien. I’m a Sytrian and you are on MY home planet.”

…..

I mean…just… Idk

Edit: also…. Why do all the aliens have to have tentacles? Why?

Sometimes John and Sherlock accidentally talk all night.

Like maybe the intention to go to sleep at a normal time was there, but then they get distracted.

11 PM: They finish the movie and it just naturally feels like time for bed. Teeth are cleaned, doors are locked, and they settle in between the sheets, and damn is the bed comfortable compared to the haphazard dog pile of limbs they had gotten into on the sofa.

“What did you think of the film?”

“Nice; very enjoyable.”

“Did I tell you it was my favorite when I was a kid?”

“No. Really?”

“Yeah. Would watch it on repeat.”

“Interesting. But it’s no longer your favorite?”

“Right. I dunno- I still love it, but not in the same way.”

“I understand. Your favorite now is that one Bond, um…Die Another Day?”

“Yeah.” John gives Sherlock a small, soft smile. He looks almost bewitched.

“What’s that look for?”

“It’s for you. ”

“Yes, but why?”

“Because it’s really nice to have someone remember things like that about me.”

1 AM: The discussion has shifted to favorites, and why they’re favorites.

“So you would rather listen to that same Rolling Stones album again and again for eternity than ever even trying something like Debussey?”

“Correct.”

“Alright, well, now I know.”

“You know what?”

“That we’re breaking up.”

They laugh.

2 AM: …and now they’re just naming things they like.

John: “Long car journeys”

Sherlock: “The smell of coffee.”

“You hate coffee.”

“I hate the taste of coffee.”

“You are a complex being.”

“Thank you.”

They laugh some more.

John: “Rainy mornings that last all day.”

“Me too.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“They’re lovely.”

“Why’s that?”

Sherlock fidgets with his lips, trying to figure out how to phrase his answer.

“Because you always wake me very…pleasantly… and often you continue waking me pleasantly for most of the morning…afternoon…even into the evening sometimes.”

“Do I? When it’s raining?”

“Yes. Not every time, but under a certain set of conditions I can, for the most part, look at the forecast for the morning the night before and know in advance whether or not I’ll be getting anything done the next day.”

John looks back at him, a concoction of surprise, then near embarrassment, then a sly smile.

“Interesting, see, I find that I get one thing in particular done consistently on those days.”

Sherlock snorts.

4 AM: The topic has shifted between worst hangover stories and crazy uni memories to some more difficult things, like John’s time in the service, and Sherlock’s addiction.

“We’ve sort of been dealt a few tough hands eh?”

“Truly.”

“Makes me want to take you away somewhere and just be relaxed for a bit.”

“I would agree to that in an instant.”

“Yeah? Let’s do that, then.”

“Fantastic idea!”

“I do get them on occasion.”

More laughter.

5 AM:

John is trying to work in to the concersation something he’s been wanting Sherlock to know for a long time. It’s difficult, though- he’s never really said anything like this- anything so personal.

“It says a lot about you, I think, that I can do things like this- stay awake all night, not having to be overwhelmed or rampant. You balance me, John.”

“Yeah..yeah I- I know what you mean. You also- I mean, you sort of…I don’t dread…my life to come…anymore. I used to think of all the days and years I had left to endure, wonder how I would fill them, hoping I could find something that wouldn’t feel so miserable, something to settle for, but you- fuck, Sherlock, I think back to that now and it feels like a horrible nightmare. I’m…more than just glad, to have found you. You- damn, this is hard, I-”

Sherlock ties his fingers with John’s and moves even closer.

"Take your time. No rush. No pressure. Anything you want to tell me, you can. You’re safe here.”

"I suppose…You umm…you made me rethink- my plans, for me, yes. But not only that, you also showed me a way of living so different from what I had known, so much better and full of richness, I look back at those days where I no longer wanted to be alive and think -it’s probably because I wasn’t alive. I had every responsibility and felt every drawback of life but was denied any of the good stuff. You showed me so much more than I ever knew was out there- you sort of saved my life by…showing me how to live it? That’s so cheesy, I-”

And now Sherlock is crying. So John starts crying.

6 AM: they’ve got themselves together by now and moved on to something a little lighter.

"Right…so, you mean to tell me that James Moriarty, criminal mastermind, scary man with an affinity for the latest in explosive fashion, still sleeps with a teddy bear?”

"Precisely.”

"How did you figure that one out?”

"It took a few-visits- to piece it together, mostly because I was in disbelief myself, but he shows signs of a stiff neck as if he sleeps in an extremely bent position with one arm hooked partially under himself, likely around a small item. Persistence of this soreness shows that he didn’t just sleep wrong once, he makes a habit of this position. But what really sealed the realization was the right thumbnail. Much shorter than all the others, wrinkled texture, dry skin around the edges where the rest of his finers are immaculately manicured. Exposed to moisture for long periods of time.”

"No fuckin way!”

"Oh yes. He sucks his thumb. What a terrifying creature.”

Hysterical laughter.

"I’m always curious what you could tell about me right away and what took you a bit longer.”

That’s a dangerous path John- not everyone wants to know what others can tell about them.”

"Yeah but I’m just tired enough to ask anyway.”

"Well, all the things I pointed out at Bart’s…then more and more about your childhood based on your dating habits…around a month after we moved in I had narrowed down the approximate size of your…tyre lever…”

"Really?”

"Well…I had underestimated, to be honest. Your stature is misleading, as I’m sure you know.”-

"So, that is to say, you were-”

"Incredibly anxious and then surprised in the best possible way.”

"I was going for ‘not disappointed’, but alright.”

"Not in the slightest. My God, not even a little. In fact, what’s the opposite of disappointed?”

"Satisfied?”

"More than.”

"Sated?”

"Never.”

7 AM: Talking has ceased. The sun seeps in at the sides of the drapes, pale and gray. It’s a bit chilly, but neither know- it’s aafe and warm in the bubble of their room.

Neither sleep until around noon, after tea and toast in bed- the rain hits the roof in steady droves, tapping occasionally at the window if the wind blows a certain way.

Sherlock gets absolutely no work done.

a thing I love about the TransDanny headcanon: there’s a photo of Danny and Maddie when he was little, happily dressed and presenting as male, meaning that his parents either accepted him as trans from a young age, or allowed him to dress himself and have his hair done as short as he wanted and not forcing him to conform to gender roles, which allowed his coming out to be a lot easier

did he have a phase where everyone just called him a ‘tomboy’? or did he announce that he was a boy early on and that was that from then on? did he start school as Daniel or Danielle? like maybe it was one of those kids will be kids things where he wanted to be a boy for a day and his parents were like, 'aww that’s cute we’ll let her have her fun’ but a day became a week, a month, a year, he never grew out of it because he was never just playing pretend

personally I like to think that it started with Maddie and Jack just having super lax views on gender roles, unsurprising since Jack loves knitting which he might have been made fun of for because it’s 'feminine’ and Maddie is very strong and self sufficient and grew up with a big tough sister who wears her hair short and acts very 'masculine’, so they already have experience subverting traditional gender roles

so when they have a daughter who drags them to the boy aisle as soon as she’s old enough to choose her own clothes/toys and asks for a short haircut like that Chip Skylark guy who sings about his shiny teeth on tv, Maddie and Jack are just like, yeah sure why not? their kid can look however she wants

Danny was able to present as male from a very early age, his parents treated him and Jazz equally regardless of gender and I feel like maybe he didn’t even think to ask to be referred to by male pronouns until he got to school and the kids immediately assumed he was male and he realised ho dang, this feels RIGHT.

and then he’d have the teachers calling him Danielle and referring to him as female and another kid is like, umm Danny’s a boy tho?? and the teacher looks at this little boy with little boy hair and little boy clothes and is like, oh uh sorry kid there must have been a mistake in the paperwork, was it supposed to say Daniel?

and he’s just like yES YES DANIEL THAT’S RIGHT THAT IS MY NAME ALWAYS YEP

but then he feels bad because technically he 'lied’ to the teacher so he goes home and doesn’t say anything because he thinks his parents will be mad at him for lying on his first day at school

and then the parents get a call from some very confused school staff asking whether or not they’d enrolled a boy or a girl because they had a Danielle Fenton in the paperwork but a Daniel Fenton was dropped off to class this morning and that’s when Maddie and Jack were like… oooooh okay so this is how it is

they tell the school that he’s definitely a boy, always has been, they don’t say he’s trans because they probably don’t even know that word exists but they do know that their daughter seems far more comfortable as their son and they don’t see a problem with that and as far as they’re concerned it’s none of the school’s business

they’d probably sit Danny down for a talk after that in which he starts crying and apologising and they have to spend about ten minutes ensuring him that he isn’t in trouble for lying at school and if he wants to be a boy that’s okay they can call him a boy for as long as he wants, he just has to let them know if he changes his mind but if he doesn’t then that’s okay too, they just want him to be happy

and from that point on he was pretty much just the Fentons’ son, his parents would buy him binders and do research on trans kids to make sure they were doing the right thing and as soon as he was old enough for T they said they’d support him whether or not he wanted to take it and if there were any complications it was okay because he was still their boy no matter what his body looked like

I mean just, the Fentons have fucked up a lot of aspects of parenthood so I just really really REALLY want them to have done this one RIGHT or as right as they possibly can, they might be quite scatterbrained and neglectful at times but it’s clear that they really do love their kids, and were probably a lot closer with them when they were young, so it makes sense to me that they would be accepting of Danny’s identity even from such a young age

all they want is for their kids to feel happy and safe, which means when they find out he’s half ghost it still doesn’t MATTER, because they already promised they’d accept him no matter what

It’s About Damn Time

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean and Reader are working a vampire case. When Dean decides to go in alone, things go a little differently than planned.

Word Count: 5204

Warnings: Swearing. Because I’m a fucking lady. Vampire gore and killing. Being tied up. Smut. Again, lady. Fingering. P in V sex. 

A/N: This is for @luci-in-trenchcoats 2k Follower Challange. My prompt was “Wanna try that again like you mean it?”, which is bolded in the fic. Beta’d by the ever lovely @wheresthekillswitch. Thanks for helping me make what I had even better! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.

Tags at the bottom. If you want added/removed, let me know!


“Dammit, Dean, answer your phone.” You’re starting to get worried now.

This is the fourth time you’ve called him, and when his voice comes over the line telling you to leave a message, it’s the fourth time you’ve had to swallow down the fear so it doesn’t come through in your voice. “You were supposed to just watch him, Winchester. If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble again, so help me God, you’re going to pay.”

You end the call, tapping your phone against your palm as you try to think. You suck a breath in through your nose, hold it for 5 seconds, then release it. You need to clear your head, figure out your next step. He’s got the Impala, of course, so if you plan on finding the him you’re going to have to borrow a car for a bit. You grab your leather jacket off the chair back, swinging it over your shoulders, shoving your hands through the sleeves as you grab your room key and head for the door. You check your phone one more time before sliding it into your pocket, shutting the door behind you as you scan the parking lot of the motel, eyes squinted to the bright mid-day sun.

There aren’t many cars parked in the poorly paved lot, and the ones that are there aren’t ones you want to trouble yourself with. You jog over to the diner across the street, eyes hopping from one car to the next until you spot a nondescript compact sitting in the back row. Yahtzee.

It’s old enough you shouldn’t have to worry about a security system but still looks like it should get you where you’re going without worrying that it’s going to break down. You walk to the car with purpose, looking for all the world like you own it. You slow as you near, hand automatically reaching out to try the handle. It always amazes you how many people just leave their vehicles unlocked in these small towns. You curl your fingers under the handle and give a tug, and sure enough, the door opens right up. With a smirk, you slide in to hotwire it and get your ass moving.

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10

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2014)

The year is 1925Fresh out of Hogwarts, Newt Scamander finds himself struggling with the banality of working for the Ministry of Magic. When the United Wizarding Republic invites him to investigate a rogue dragon living in the sewer systems of New York City, however, Newt’s boring life is plunged into chaosNew York City is dark, dirty, and dazzling, but with a little help from Nella Larson and Duke Ellington - the brightest witch and wizard of their age - Newt finally starts to feel that New York is home. Together, the Nella and Duke teach Newt how to do the Charleston, how to buy Butterbeer off the blackmarket, and, of course, how to save New York City from a hoard of angry dragons.

Newt Scamander - Nathan Stewart-Jarrett

Nella Larson - Angel Coulby

Duke Ellington - Gary Carr