you want to carry a box of full of tapes around in your car

miafuckingsucks  asked:

1, 14, 15 for the Drabble thing <3

1.The skirt is supposed to be this short.

JJ and Garcia had been the first to notice the new addition to your wardrobe when you entered the conference room that morning.

“Since when did you start wearing skirts to work?” JJ teased, taking the opportunity since it was just the three of you in the room at the moment.

“And ones that could be considered so scandalous?” Garcia joined in as she prepped the files for the rest of the team members.

“This skirt would only be considered scandalous back in ‘The Scarlet Letter’ times,” you laughed incredulously at your friend’s comments, “And besides, I thought it was cute and would mix up what I usually wear to work.”

“It is very cute,” Garcia confirmed, coming to where you stood and handing you a case file, “And very short.”

Throwing your head back and groaning, you chuckled softly, “The skirt it supposed to be this short!”

Tilting your head back down, you noticed that Spencer had come to enter the conference room, and when his eyes settled on the hot topic of your previous conversation, he swallowed harshly.

JJ and Garcia also noticed this and shared a knowing look between each other as Spencer took his usual seat right next to your usual seat.

“See something you like, Spencer?” Garcia whispered to the blushing man as she handed him a file while you took a seat next to him.

Rolling your eyes, you whispered a silent thank you to the universe when Hotch walked in and immediately began briefing the team.

At one point, Hotch turned his attention to Rossi and you felt Spencer’s hand come to rest on your knee.

“I do like your skirt,” his voice just loud enough for only you to hear.

“Thank you,” your own voice no louder.

“Do you think anyone would notice if we were a little late boarding the plane?” Spencer asked, trailing his hand ever so slightly up your thigh.

“Not at all.”

You prayed that no one noticed the smile you had to bite back or the hickey that would soon come to appear on your neck.

14. Take. It. Off.

“Please tell me that was the last box,” you huffed, taking a seat on the floor next to one of the many cardboard moving boxes placed sporadically around Spencer’s living room.

Nostalgia had struck Spencer after returning from a visit to Las Vegas to see his mother last week, prompting him to bring up the boxes of memories he kept stored in the basement of his apartment.

“There’s only one more,” Spencer assured, sliding a box labeled ‘photo albums’ out of the pathway you had created towards the door, “I’ll go get it and then we can start going through them.”

Humming in agreement, you scanned the boxes that were settled around you, wondering which one Spencer would want to open first when he returned.

Just to your right, the simple Sharpie label of ‘CHESS’ caught your attention the most. Imagining that it was most likely full of vintage chess boards that Spencer had collected over the years, you figured that was a good box to start with.

Standing up from your previous position and tearing back the tape that sealed it shut, you were pleasantly surprised to see a golden baseball hat residing at the top. Picking it up, a smile grew across your lips upon reading the black lettering of “Las Vegas Chess Champion 1989”. The thought of a little eight-year-old Spencer wearing the hat atop a mess of his untamed curls made you giggle before adorning the hat yourself.

As you began to carefully remove the chess boards that the hat had been on top of, you heard Spencer re-enter the apartment and close the door behind him.

“Babe, did you see a box mark—” Spencer stopped in the middle of his question upon seeing the familiar tone of yellow, “Where did you find that?”

“In this box with your chess boards,” your smile drooped, having expected him to be far more excited when seeing the relic.

“I thought I got rid of that,” Spencer swiftly set the box in his hands down and made a move towards you, “Please, take it off.”

“Why would you want to get rid of it?” you dodged his attempt to remove the hat from your head.

“Y/N, please,” Spencer ignored your question, the tone of his voice growing desperate, “Take. It. Off.

Before you had the chance to respond, Spencer was quick to close the space between you and wrap one arm around you while his free successfully snatched the hat from your head.

Squealing with laughter, you attempted to reach your arm just as high as Spencer’s to retrieve the hat back but settled back onto your feet when you realized your efforts were pointless.

“Alright, fine,” you feigned defeat, placing your forehead against his chest “But, Spence, why did you want to get rid of it in the first place?”

Lowering his extended arm to drop the hat on the sofa besides him, Spencer sighed, “The day after I won the chess tournament, I wore that hat to school, thinking that I was so cool,” his voice drifted off, “And well, we both know how uncool the rest of the high school already thought I was…”  

Your heart dropped at Spencer’s explanation for the embarrassment he had in regards to the baseball hat. Even if he had grown past the bullying he had experienced in school, it was obvious that some pain continued to linger.

Glancing down at the hat that was now by your leg, you smiled sadly before picking it up and placing it on Spencer’s head, right where it belonged.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I bet you looked just as cool then as you do right now.”

And for the first time ever while wearing that hat, Spencer felt proud.

15. Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.

There were a million other places you would have rather been then an overcrowded bar right now. Most nights, you would be partaking in shots with Prentiss or singing a horrible rendition of some Journey song with Garcia and Morgan; but between the silent treatment that Spencer was giving you and the creepy stare you were receiving from a man at the bar, you had had enough of the night.

Pushing your way through the hoard of people on the dance floor, you made your way over to the spot of the bar where Morgan and JJ were stood, both of them ceasing their conversation at your arrival.

“Spencer still refusing to talk to you?” JJ asked sympathetically, being able to see the dejection that still resided on your face from the previous argument that the two of you had.

“Not a single word,” you shook your head, glancing back to see that Spencer was still sitting at the booth you had all chosen when you arrived, his eyes trained on the drink in front of him.

“So I’m just gonna head out,” you motioned towards the exit of the bar, receiving understanding nods from both of the agents.

“You go home and relax,” Morgan stepped forward to give you a hug, “I’m going to try and talk some sense into that boyfriend of yours.”

Lightly laughing for the first time in hours, you bid them both a good night before making your way back through the crowd of people and out of the bars overwhelming atmosphere.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh night air and reaching for your car keys in your purse, the sound of the door slamming caught your attention.

“Hey, there,” the voice was unrecognizable, but when you turned around, you were met with the man who had been staring at you since you entered the bar.

“Hi?” your response came out more as a question than a statement.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you left without the guy you came with,” his breath reeked with vodka as he came to stand closer to you, “And I thought maybe you’d be into leaving with me instead.”

Taking a step back, you scoffed at the complete stranger, “I’m not, at all.”

Sudden anger flashed across the man’s glazed eyes, “Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.

Even if you were a trained FBI agent, the man’s threat made your heart race and your palms go clammy.  

“Take one more step near her and I will not hesitate to shoot you,” Spencer’s voice rang clear and authoritative through the tense air, taking both you and the man by surprise.

“You don’t even have a gun,” the drunk man snarled, unmoved from his position near you.

Moving the jacket of his suit to reveal that he was in fact still carrying, Spencer spit venom in his words, “Back away from her, now.”

No longer willing to continue harassing you or run the chance of getting shot, the man was quick to practically run past you, in the complete opposite direction of Spencer.

A shaky sigh of relief had barely left your mouth before Spencer had pulled you into his arms, his own body shaking with fear at the idea of what could’ve happened if he had not come to apologize to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his chest, “I thought you were mad at me, I didn’t think you would come after me.”

Shaking his head, Spencer tipped his finger under your chin and made you look at him, “I will always come after you, I can’t lose you.”

Pressing a kiss against your forehead, Spencer pulled you into him once more, not yet willing to let you go.

No Rest For The Weary

SPN FanFic

~Y/N and the Winchesters just can’t catch a break.~

Dean x Reader, Sam

6,960 Words

Warnings: It’s a roller coaster. Fluff, bit o’Smut, Angst. Flusmangst. 

A/N: Thank you to @taste-of-dean for the readover (sorry about the prank) and to @idreamofhazel for her amazing beta skills. Couldn’t do it without you. Hope you enjoy. and remember:

Feedback lets me know you want me to keep writing.

The sun was shining brightly despite the heavy blanket of clouds that drifted across the Kansas sky. Breaks between the heather offered visions of perfect blue, and the air was filled with the promise of summer.

The Impala was speeding down the highway, its freshly washed black exterior gleaming in the sunlight. Tires spun in metallic blurs as Dean pushed her through the sparse mid-morning traffic, leaving Montana in the dust and heading home. The windows were down and wind whipped around the three hunters, lifting their hair and spirits. The rush of air forced them to breathe deeply, filling their lungs with the crisp spring atmosphere, relaxing their bodies and calming their minds.

The case hadn’t been any harder than any case before it, and certainly wouldn’t pale any that came after. But they were tired, muscles sore from lack of sleep and constant movement; their souls in need of restoration. Time off was desperately needed, and as long as Heaven and Hell kept to themselves, maybe they would get some.

As the miles wore on their shoulders settled, their minds calmed, and their smiles returned. Two hours in, laughter returned to the Impala as Sam and Dean argued lightheartedly about the cassette tape Dean had pushed into the stereo.

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Sunny Days-chapter 1

Sunny Days Masterlist

Summary: There’s nothing left in this world that isn’t hidden and Negan just found some gems.  

Word Count: 2,802 words

Warnings: surprise there. Not much for this chapter. Some hints at daddy kink. Let me know if I need to add any. Will get explicit in the future. This will be slow burnish.

Author’s Note: First foray into fan fiction. Not sure what I am doing, but this won’t leave my brain alone. I got this idea when I started thinking about how I would like to spend my days post zombie apocalypse and the movie Blast from the Past kinda popped up in mind. I’m not meant for roughing it. It’s been 12 years since I have written anything. @negans-network thanks for the encouragement. Here’s goes nothing.

His scouts had found the seemingly abandoned house in the middle of nowhere a few days ago and swore up and down that they had seen a girl going in through an upstairs window. When they tried to climb the fence surrounding the property, they were shocked, literally, that the electricity still flowed through it. The short wall of burned walkers around the perimeter made a lot more sense though.  

How the fuck was that fence still electrified?

Negan could see the house boarded up, a flat roofed car port, and a large dilapidated barn but nothing to suggest any kind of inhabitants or fucking technology. This place looked like it had been abandoned long before the world turned to shit.

He had been hiding in the trees beyond the fenced in yard. He hadn’t seen any sign of life all day. Every now and then a walker would meander through. Lucille took care of them easily. He was about to give up for the day. He didn’t want to be out at night especially when he could be balls deep in one of his wives and then tucked into his comfortable bed.  

Well hot diggity dog. Those fucking morons were actually right.

He saw her. She climbed out the second story window, lowering a basket on a pulley attached to the roof. The pale skin of her arms and face practically reflected the sunlight. Her long dark hair was in a ponytail. She scaled the lattice on the wall until she could easily jump to the ground. She grabbed the basket and seemingly without a care in the world walked to a cluster of trees. She scoured the ground and every now and then picked up something up and dropped in her basket.

When she was done scavenging in the dirt, he watched her climb back up, pull the now full basket up and go back inside. He walked the perimeter of the fence and found what he was looking for. One tall tree with a branch over hanging the fence.

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Love Bites (part 4)

Words: 1.3k

Summary: You react to Cas apologizing and confessing his feelings for you; and an old friend stops by to visit. (I’m also terrible at summarizing.)

A/N: I lied. This isn’t the final part; there should only be one more. If you’d like to be added to my master tag list, send me an ask or DM. As always, constructive feedback is always appreciated.


You jumped at the sound from your window and groaned while you opened it. “What the fuck, Cas?! What are you, 14 again? What do you want?”

He climbed through your window like he used to when you were younger. “You. I want you. I was an idiot for letting you walk away so many times.”

You shook your head and frowned at him. “Cas, are you drunk? I know you don’t mean that. You have a fiancé and a life here, remember?”

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Professor Pride Week 15

gif belongs to of-badges-and-guns

Title: Professor Pride Week 15

Characters: Professor!Pride x Reader, Gibbs, and Dog!Tony

Word Count: 1,434

Warnings: slight angst, fluff

A/N: This is NOT the end for these two.  I hope you all enjoy this! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! I love you all so much! <3

Series Masterlist

It was finals week.  The last week you would be on campus; possibly the last week you would see Dwayne.  No matter what, you had to be out of your dorm by the end of the week.  You plopped down in your seat, running your hand over the smooth wooden surface.  You’d miss sitting here.  

You looked up when you heard the door open.  You were twenty minutes early to class, and so was Dwayne.  He had a coffee in his hand, his briefcase in the other.  He padded up to your desk, placing the coffee down in front of you.

“Ah got’cha your favorite,” Pride spoke in a low, sweet voice.  The professor pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds.  “Good luck [Y/N], ah know you’ll do great.”

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Fall down seven, stand up eight - Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: nothing at this stage except for talks of slight abuse, burns, swearing, it’ll get better i hope (also no bucky yet wtf)

Word Count: 2433

welcome to the first chapter of my new series! hopefully this doesn’t blow! just a fair warning there will be smut, not in every chapter because that isn’t realistic but have no fear: you’ll get your fix ;) also this is technically an au cause it doesn’t really follow an already standing story line so just go w it. 

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Sebastian Stan Request

Hi dear! Could you please write an imagine where the reader is Sebastian Stan’s wife (and a really famous actress) and she tells him that she’s pregnant in a really cute way? I love your writing!! :3

“What’s that?”

You carried the box from your door to the kitchen counter. “Just a little something I ordered,” you smiled at your husband. “Are you ready to go?”

“Just have to put my shoes on,” he kissed your forehead as he walked to the couch. “You look absolutely beautiful. But, that was expected.”

“Ah, that’s why I married you,” you said humorously. You and Sebastian were about to leave to SAG Awards where you were up for fourth nomination for Best Actress and where Sebastian was up for Best Actor.

“Come on lovely,” you walked hand and hand with him down to the car. “You ready,” he asked as you pulled up to the red carpet. With a nod he opened up the car door and helped you out of the car. With an arm around you the whole time you two walked the red carpet, pausing for all the pictures and interviews together.

You held your stomach as you sat in your seat. “Getting nervous,” he asked as he saw your hand on your stomach.

You smiled largely, “I guess so.” He took your other hand in his and rubbed his thumb over it, “Don’t be. I know you’ll win,” he told you.

Sebastian’s category was up first. “And the award goes to,” Emma Stone said, “Sebastian Stan.” The audience erupted and you stood up and hugged and kissed your husband. He walked up on stage. “Wow,” he said looking at the award, “this is an honor. I’d like to take a moment and say thank you to my extremely beautiful wife Y/N,” he smiled towards you, “and to all the people from set who helped me get this role and make the character a real thing; and a special thank you to my fans that went and saw the movie and helped make it what it is. Thank you,” he gave a final smile and walked off the stage. He sat back down in his seat next to you just as your category was being announced.

Robert Downey Jr. took the stage to present the winner for your category and, of course, made a joke about Sebastian’s winning; it was only natural since they were close friends. “And the winner for Best Actress goes to….Y/N Y/L/N.” You stood back up again and wrapped Sebastian in another big hug and received an equally large kiss from him. You lifted up your gown and walked up the stage.

“Like Sebastian just said, this is an honor,” you and your peers laughed. “Um, I’d like to think my friends and family for encouraging me to pursue this role. I’d like to think my agent Matt and the cast and crew on set who helped me stay awake on all our 14 hour days; and my fans who tweeted about the movie just because I was in it. Lastly, I’d like to think my wonderful husband Sebastian for putting up with me and for still helping me run lines. I love you,” you looked directly at him. You walked off and kissed and hugged your husband again as you reached your seat.

“Robert and Chris asked if we wanted to join them at the afterparty,” Sebastian told you as you two walked again hand and hand with your awards down the red carpet.

“We could if you want but I actually have a gift waiting for you back at the house.” You could tell by his smile what he thought the gift was.

“Then we should probably just run on home,” he playfully said. The drive home was full of playful kisses and you having to bat Sebastian’s eager hand away. You were a good 20 steps ahead of him when you got home. You were grabbing the package off the table when Sebastian came through the door. “Ok, honey, ready to celebrate.” He walked towards the kitchen and stopped when he saw you hold the box. “You meant and actual gift?” You nodded and laughed at him.

“Come, sit,” you sat on the couch and patted next to you. You put the box in his lap and, with eager eyes, waited for him to open the box. He ripped the tape of the outside of the box and opened it to another gift box. He undid the bow, removed the top and unfolded the tissue paper. You looked intensly at him waiting to see his reaction. “Does this…does this mean what I think it does?”

He lifted up the small long sleeve black onesie that replicated his Winter Soldier outfit. He looked at you and you nodded. “How long have you known,” his voice was full of excitement.

“3 weeks. I’m nearly two months,” you smiled. He put the box on the table in front of him and grabbed you in his arms.

“This is the best award I could have ever received,” he picked you up in his arms bridal style and swung you around. “I can’t believe it!”

“Now,” you laughed from his arms. “I guess if you want your other gift now…” you let him finish the thought for himself.

Five Minutes- [Grace/Frankie]- Chapter 3

Thanks for all the love so far! Hope you enjoy this next part (: Full chapter here on A03.


Frankie felt like her head was no longer attached to her body. Some days were like that, mostly after a few too many bong rips. But this…this was not that.

Ever since she kissed Grace, or Grace kissed her, or whatever combination of fear and desire conspired to bring their bodies together, she could think of nothing else. This is so not wise, kept telling herself like a hopeless mantra, trying to talk herself out of it, which was ridiculous because she had been fully, deeply in it long before the kiss. She didn’t know exactly when, but it had been a while, and it was too late now to turn back. She’d tried the whole denial thing, and that, like always, blew up in the most spectacularly painful of ways, wounding another person in the process. A very kind person, one whose yams were delicious and whose company made her feel safe and cared for, if not totally excited or inspired.

These were crazy times, and Frankie stuck to her mission of establishing new boundaries with Grace as best she could, given that she now knew what kissing Grace felt like. Frankie wasn’t sure she’d ever been kissed like that, not even by Sol. Not that there was anything wrong with the way he kissed, or their lovemaking. What they had was beautiful, even if her memories of it had been tainted by lies. But their last time together wasn’t the only time it felt forced, polite more than passionate, like something they both felt they should do because that’s what people who loved each other did. They were so young when they met, and it had been fun then, full of laughter and experimentation. But over time it grew into more of a meditation on their commitment, a spiritual exercise rather than true worship of each other’s physical and emotional forms, and truly, Frankie longed for both.

With Grace, ironically, she felt worshipped. Even in the briefest of moments they’d shared so far, Frankie felt more ecstatic, more alive than she had with anyone in years. Grace oozed sexuality. She was full of fire, sometimes too much, playful and eager, at least until her head got too involved. She was soft and firm in all the best places, incredibly sweet and a huge pain in the ass, a gorgeous mess of contradictions. She was also shockingly strong for a woman made of toothpicks, but that was a good thing, because Frankie never felt as unsteady on her feet as she did these days.

It wasn’t just Grace. The stroke had knocked her back more than she was willing to admit. She was recovering slowly but surely, but it was still a process. It certainly made her not want to waste any more time, but that’s exactly what she’d asked Grace for: time. That was the only way she could think to protect herself, even if she knew her heart was already too far gone to put a fence around. Grace and her stupid soft skin and comically chiseled cheekbones had done Frankie in, not to mention the exquisite way she smelled, her persistent nagging, her intense desire to look out for her, or the indescribable bliss and relief she felt just being in Grace’s presence. That was why it hurt so much to not spend every waking moment together lately, but that’s what Frankie needed, and she figured it was about time she took charge of her own needs for once.

“Good morning,” Grace greeted cheerfully as she came downstairs, fully dressed for the day. “What is that?”

“A peanut butter and banana smoothie,” Frankie shared, flinging another scoop into the blender.

“That’s not a smoothie,” Grace debated, smirking as she shook her head. “That’s a liquefied sandwich.”

“Well you don’t have to eat it,” Frankie retorted. “I made eggs too if you want some of those.”

“Thanks, but I’m meeting Robert for breakfast,” she told her, grabbing a bottled water from the fridge.

“Oh. Okay.” Frankie deflated. “That’s sweet, actually, you two spending time together.”

“Never thought you’d see the day, did you?”

“Definitely not,” Frankie smiled. “Not even in one of my vision quests.”

“I’ll be home later though,” Grace stood at a safe distance, perched at the other end of the island. “What about you?”

“Not sure yet,” Frankie sighed. “Coyote asked if I could help him scout some locations for his tiny house. I don’t know how long that will take.”

“Ah, got it,” Grace smiled sweetly, backing away. “I guess I’ll just…see you when I see you then.”

“You will,” Frankie nodded. “I’m never that far.”

Grace looked like she wanted to say more, so much more. Her forehead was all crinkled, eyes so sad and blue, it took everything Frankie had not to scoop her up and make her see how badly she wanted things to be okay, wanted to skip ahead to the good parts. But this was healthy, for now. This was the way it needed to be.

“Alright then,” Grace headed for the front of the house. “See you later.”

“Alligator,” Frankie couldn’t resist, shutting her eyes when she heard the door close.

She flipped on the blender, drowning out her self-pitying thoughts with the sound, letting it run a little longer than she normally would have, until the substance was good and mixed. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she began pouring it into the tallest glass she could find, but soon enough she heard knocking.

“Did your forget your keys again?!” she shouted as she grinned, slowly making her way to the front door. “I knew you wanted a smoothie too. Good thing I made extra…”

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Dog Sitter (Frank CastlexReader) Pt. 8

A/N: I stand by the fact that average people can’t deal with severe injuries as well as many writers will lead you to believe. 

Warning: Blood, injury



You live in a hotel room for two weeks. It’s not the nicest hotel to live in, but it was free. After explaining how you were “attacked by the Punisher” the police offered to pay for a hotel until you were able to buy a new place. The free breakfast and the pet friendly rooms were nice, but by the five night of sleeping in between stiff sheets, you were ready to find a new home. Your recent promotion and your collection of savings was enough for a nicer apartment on the opposite side of town. A lot of your possessions were destroyed or seriously damaged in the attack so you didn’t have a lot to move. For a while your cupboards were filled with nothing but cheap plastic cubs and the mix of ceramic dishes that had survived.

The appliances worked one hundred times better than your old ones and the TV actually had a clear image. There was enough room in your new bedroom for Fido to sleep on the floor without you tripping over him in the morning.

It was a good time.

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random inspiration hit me because drunk stuff is my schtick apparently so have this

the RFA members getting drunk


  • i mean we technically have canon drunk yoosung already so i don’t really have to add to this but hey
  • affectionate af drunk
  • calls everyone cute
  • whines almost constantly and probably cries at the smallest thing
  • like sees a picture of a dog and is found sobbing on the floor
  • you give him food and he starts crying, hugging you, and eating said food all at once it’s a mess
  • tells you how much he loves you like 50 times 
  • “did i tell you i love you so~~~~~ much”
  • “ yes yoosung you did five seconds ago”
  • “ i just love you so much your hair is so soft how do u DO THAT (now crying) ”
  • drink of choice: honestly soju came to mind because he’s a college aged korean boy but i could see him being a mike’s hard lemonade/smirnoff ice person too


  • at first she’s super quiet
  • u know those people that just suddenly stop talking and just look around at everyone listening when they drink
  • that’s her at first
  • then suddenly you come back in from getting another drink from the other room and she’s on the table yelling at the people at the party because SOMEONE just HAD TO call Zen overrated
  • it was jumin. he said it on purpose
  • 100% fights people and you have to hold her back because ‘Jaehee THAT’S YOUR BOSS ‘
  • the most embarrassed about her drunken self
  • a bit of a lightweight too
  • drink of choice: PROBS white wine . pinot grigio. only the really good kind


  • so it’s not canon what he’s like WHEN he’s drunk (i don’t think?) but we do know that he is a DRINKER
  • i 100% see him as the kind of drinker that doesn’t get affected by it at first but when it hits him IT HITS HIM ALL AT ONCE.
  • like literally one second he’s chilling, maybe a little more giggly but then suddenly he’s belting and preforming full on musical numbers 
  • the rest of the people around you want to THROW UP he won’t STOP 
  • “(while basically holding you WAYY TOO TIGHT) gosh look at her SHE’S SO CUTE Aand she’s MY girlfriend have u guUYS SEEN HER -” “zen please i can’t breathe” “i can’t breathe around you either babe GOSH I JUSTloveyou” “yoosung next to you: please let me die”
  • sleepy drunk sings to you 
  • falls asleep as soon as he hits the bed at home and you have to take off his jacket and stuff for him 
  • despite that he got the drunkest and drank twice what everyone else did he wakes up in the morning with no hangover and remembers everything what even is he????
  • drink of choice: beer or whisky i’d say. i know in canon he mostly drinks beer but i feel like he’d be a whisky guy (maybe that’s just me projecting because i’m a whisky person too okay)


  • also a super heavyweight. i 100% think at some point zen and him tried to out-drink each other and both of them had to be cut off by everyone else
  • very chill drinker, mostly drinks to calm down after work.
  • when he does get drunk, he’s very stoic about it until he gets out of the car and you have to practically carry him up to his penthouse
  • when you put him in bed, he pulls you in with him and just starts.. talking
  • like just talks about how feels about you and how much he cares about you and everything he noticed about u that day
  • like zen, i’d think it’d hit him all at once but he wouldn’t show it. 
  • he definitely laughs more tho and it freaks the other RFA members out
  • slightly more physically affectionate in public, that’s his big tell
  • not too touchy feely but much MORE than usual
  • the type to zone out suddenly and have random af thoughts like how tigers’ skin is striped under their fur and everyone is like ???????????? we know???????? you told us that last time????????????
  • drink of choice: red wine. that’s canon as well. i imagine he does have white wine too depending on what he eats. but he’s def a wine dad.


  • this boy is dangerous to get drunk idek 
  • like the puns come quick and frequently 
  • he tries to climb things. all the things. constantly.
  • breaks a lot of the things he tries to climb
  • tries to fix said things with scotch tape like babe i guess you tried but????
  • he’s just out of control like i imagine him being like this dude i used to be friends with that when he got drunk he would do shit like army crawl across our friends’ yard with everyone’s cigarettes and stabbed a mango and threatened everyone with it (we had to take it from him and then afterwards he tried to run away and fell flat on his face) and also walked through the house while everyone was trying to sleep blasting classical music from his phone THAT IS HOW I PICTURE SEVEN GETTING DRUNK (it makes for good stories but man can it be A SHITSHOW)
  • like you get home and he’s drunk and he’s hacking into nasa while wearing your underwear on his head and has somehow built a chair out of Honey Buddha Chip boxes and is sitting on that and you have to stop him because bABE THAT’S A FEDERAL OFFENSE AND IT’S NOT FOR YOUR JOB YOU CAN’T DO THAT
  • probably, at some point, caused a barfight
  • i don’t know how, i don’t know why, i don’t think he was involved in it at all but he somehow caused one
  • drink of choice: i say rum or flavored vodka. like WEIRD flavored vodkas. like that one kind that’s made with grass that bison peed on or whatever. i think weird alcohols in general. 
.Agust D MV: a rundown.

So I’m filled with emotions & I need to process so much of what is happening lyrically in Yoongi’s mixtape so far that I literally don’t know where to start or what to do with myself at the moment so I’m just going to write.

This is a straightforward video so I’m just going to pick up some cues & throw them out for thought food. So apologies for the roughness in writing, just trying to call it as I saw it. No real theories. Just take it as you will. Thank you~

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Best Buds Part 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Words: 2950

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected sex (Sex is cleaner with a packaged wiener), almost getting caught, ignoring canon deaths because I fucking do what I want, drinking

Note: Again, I had so much fun writing this part. I really hope you guys like it and if you will, give me some good feedback. Not sure how many more parts I am going to write. I’ve been getting asked that question. I’m pretty much writing until I run out of ideas or until the story calls for it. Thanks again for reading! I love y’all! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged :)

@divinitycas @faith-in-dean @profounderbonds @abaddonwithyall @ilostmyshoe-79 @bovaria @mrsjohnsmith @mysupernaturalfics @aprofoundbondwithdean @bkwrm523 @feelmyroarrrr @ami212 @slowlywithfreedom @winchesterprincessbride

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Originally posted by acklesjensen

You were pressed between the back seat of Baby and Dean’s firm body. It had been about two weeks since you and Dean started this little arrangement and you were elated. Consistent sex after hunts without worrying about where the random guy had been or wondering how drunk you were made “reducing stress” all the more easy. Dean parked behind the house where you’d just finished a quick salt and burn hunt. You were both pumped full of adrenaline from digging the grave, when he threw you over his shoulder and tossed you into the back seat. Now the glass of the Impala was fogged and you were seconds from reaching your impending bliss. Sammy left to go talk to the family of the previously haunted house to explain that everything was going to be fine, so you thought you had at least an hour or so before he came back. That is until Sammy’s voice called through the empty street, looking for Dean.

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Prompt from @msarahv​: Castiel is sacked from his job and finds himself outside, holding his office stuff in a box. He’s all depressed as he wonders how he’ll feed his kid sister, when a stranger parks his car and come comfort him. In the end, Destiel + Sam hires Cas as his assistant. This got so much longer than I intended. 1.4k

The cardboard box in his hands grew soggy and flexed beneath his palms, unlikely to survive the half-mile walk from his former office to the house he rented on Ohio Avenue. The least his former employers could’ve done was offer him a trash bag to cover it, but the security guard had stood adjacent to his desk while Castiel furiously scraped the personal contents of each drawer into the single box that had been thrust at his chest, then escorted him to the sidewalk. No warning, no curious co-workers watching him – Castiel had returned from his lunch hour to find the office vacated, senior partner Zachariah Adler waiting next to his desk with a pleasant expression and a termination notice, effective immediately.

Downsizing, Zachariah had explained, meaty hands folded on his lap. A necessary staff reduction. He promised Castiel an excellent reference and wished him good luck. With a stiff jaw, Castiel had bit back what he really thought of Zachariah’s well wishes and refrained from clocking him in the face.

He hurried at a pace just short of a run, shaking with anger and with cold – of all the days for his car to be in the shop. The wind picked up, blowing the rain sideways, and soaked his pants. His overcoat slapped heavily against his legs as he went, head bowed, blinking every second to keep his eyes clear. His desk plant, a rescue he’d nursed by fluorescent light, tickled his chin as he went.

He should’ve called a cab, but he needed every dollar for rent, the local service was questionable, and Hannah would need new books again soon.

It was just rain. He’d dry off once he got inside.

He cursed when the bottom of the box gave out three blocks from his house, and stood looking down on the water-logged contents scattered on the sidewalk. None of the items held much value, but he knelt in a puddle to retrieve them, putting the engraved pen (a graduation gift from his brother Michael) in his pocket and balancing the ruined pictures on top of his books, held in the crook of both arms. He’d never get the plant home. He left it on the sidewalk, among the ruins of the cardboard box, and hoped it would still be there tomorrow once the rain had stopped.

A few cars passed him, politely arcing their path to spare him the spray off their tires, but that couldn’t be said about the driver of a black car that peeled past and sent a wave of water up Castiel’s back.

Today was an abomination. 

Seething, he clutched the books tight to his chest and bit out, “Assbutt!” at the car, though he knew perfectly well the driver couldn’t hear him, probably hadn’t seen him, wasn’t aware what he’d just done. And that thought, knowing Castiel was expendable, disposable, invisible, was the proverbial straw and Castiel the broken camel, trudging through a rainstorm.

The car stopped just shy of the intersection, tail-lights pulsing momentarily red before the reverse lights came on bright, and the car pulled alongside him.

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What I’m Walking Into

CS AU Week Day 3 // Beloved Tropes // Roommates // David moving out means Emma needs a new roommate. Enter Killian Jones. 

Rating: Smuffy


“I’m really going to miss you.” Emma sighs, pulling the tape gun across the last of the cardboard boxes stuffed with David’s clothes. She looks around his room, now cluttered with boxes instead of filled with his things, and tries to not feel quite so sad about it.

“I’m going to be two streets over. You know you can stop by at any time.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure Mary Margaret will appreciate you inviting people over to the newlywed house just yet.” Emma winks over the boxes, not bothering to struggle out of David’s impulsive embrace. She’s gotten used to his affection over the years they’ve lived together, and she’ll never admit it to him, but she’ll miss this, too.

“She’s going to be sick of me by the time we get back. I’m sure she won’t mind.” He pulls back, taking the box out of her hands and adding it to the towering stack by the door. “Besides, you know you’re family, Emma. You’re always welcome.”

“I mean…you are taking her camping.” Emma pulls a face, shuddering at the thought and pulling her sweater tighter around her body. “Worst honeymoon ever.”

“We like camping and hiking.”

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Combined Birthday Requests

Request: Hey there! So it’s my 18th birthday and I was wondering if you could do a one shot where the reader is traveling with the boys and since they really don’t have any money, her cake and present is a tiny cupcake with a candle. Super cute and fluffy please! Thank you so much!

Request: Hiiiiiiii! Love your blog!!! Anyway I was hoping you could do an imagine for me? It is my birthday soon and I was wondering if you can do one with all 3 guys. Like they find out its my birthday and throw a little party or whatever. Thank you!!!

(P.S. go wish lexibex26 a happy birthday!)

Another day, another hunt, which meant more nonstop research, more injuries, and more exhaustion. It didn’t matter that today was your birthday, hunting didn’t take holidays.

You woke up in the old rickety motel bed, back aching just slightly from the lumpy mattress. You sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You got a surprising six hours of sleep, and felt well rested for once. 

Just as you were about to get out of bed, Castiel appeared in front of you. “Don’t get out of bed!” He ordered. Then, went and opened your door. Dean and Sam walked in, carrying a box of what smelled like donuts and a steaming cup of coffee. 

They smiled at you, and all three boys started singing Happy Birthday off key and very loudly. You laughed as Dean placed the box on your lap and Sam pressed the cup into your hands. “And many more…..” They ended.

“Thanks, guys!” You exclaimed, opening the box. You were right, there were a dozen donuts staring back at you. You pulled out your favorite flavor, and bit it in half. “You want one?” You offered with a full mouth.

Dean grabbed a cream filled powder donut, and Sam grabbed a cinnamon donut. Castiel even grabbed one; one with chocolate icing and sprinkles.

They all sat on your bed with you, and you ate. “So.” Dean started, swallowing his food. “What do you want to do today?”

“Go to the next town and start the hunt.” You said, shrugging. 

“That’s so lame!” Sam exclaimed.

You laughed and stuck your tongue out at him. “Sorry, I just want to get the next hunt over with.”

“Alright, it’s your birthday.” Dean said, sighing in defeat.

You nodded your thanks and once you were all done eating the boys left your room so you could change. You put on your favorite pair of jeans, an old AC/DC shirt, and one of Dean’s plaid shirts that you’d stolen.

You met Sam and Dean at the Impala. “Where’s Cas?” You asked.

“He muttered something about Heaven then left.” Sam answered.

“Weirdo.” You said, then jumped in the car. 

Dean blasted the music, changing the station so your favorite music played. You rocked out, drumming on the back of Sam’s chair and annoying him to no end. 

A little later you fell asleep, and when you woke up Sam was carrying you into another motel room. “Where are we?” You mumbled.

“Arkansas.” He answered. “Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“About five.” He said, then laid you down on your bed for the night.

“Wake me up for dinner.” You said, and Sam pulled the covers over you.


While you slept, Sam and Dean ran around their room, preparing. Dean had run out the second you were asleep and returned to the motel within an hour. The nearest store was a 5 and below, so he didn’t have much to work with, but he was still excited. 


You woke up when Castiel appeared in your room. “Hey, Cas.” You greeted him, sitting up. 

“Hello. How is your birthday?” He asked.

“Awesome. I’ve slept like all day!” You exclaimed, smiling widely. 

“Sam and Dean got you dinner. It’s in their room.” He said.

“They sent you over to tell me? You could have just brought it over.” You said, and Castiel shifted his weight from foot to foot. 

“Um, sorry, I’m being called.” Then he left.

“Freaking angels.” You muttered, then crawled out of bed. You put your hair in a messy bun and walked the two feet to Sam and Dean’s room. 

You knocked on the door, and Dean yelled, “It’s open!" 

As you opened the door, you noticed how dark it was in the room, and your hunter instincts kicked in. You reached to your back for the knife you always had, and just as you were about to pull it out, the lights turned on and Sam, Dean, and Cas jumped up from various places. "Surprise!”

You yelped and brought your hand to your heart. “Holy shit!” You exclaimed, laughing. 

“Did we surprise you?” Cas asked, smiling.

“Definitely!” You confirmed, then hugged each of them. “I love it!” Then, you got a good look around the room. Construction had been taped together, then taped to the wall, spelling out “Happy Birthday Y/N!” A few balloons had been blown up, and littered the floor. You saw more drawings taped all around the room. One was a picture of you, Sam, Dean, and Cas, all smiling. Another was of a piece of pie in a heart. And another, your favorite, was a very detailed portrait of you. 

“Who drew this?” You asked in awe.

“I did. Do you like it?” Cas answered.

“I love it!” You exclaimed, giving him another hug. “It’s amazing." Cas smiled at your compliment, a slight blush creeping on his face. 

Dean brought out the dinner, a giant pizza with your favorite toppings. You sat around and ate, occasionally throwing a balloon at somebody. You blasted your music and danced around a little. You made Cas join you, and he quickly warmed up to it.

"Y/N, we got you a present. You deserve way more, but it’s what we could get.” Sam said, then handed you a box with a bow on it.

Smiling, you opened it. A small cupcake stood in it, with a candle in the middle. You laughed and Dean stood beside you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, then with the other hand he pulled out his lighter and lit the candle on fire. “Happy birthday.” Dean said, then kissed the top of your head.

The boys sang Happy Birthday for the second time that day, no better than before, and then you blew out the candle. You refused to tell them what you wished for, but it was pretty easy to guess. You wished nothing would change.

(I hope you like it!)

sleepysmnerd  asked:

Hi, I've recently started a technical theatre course at a theatre high school (i think it's high school. I'm british, sorry) and I'm specialising in SM and I was wondering what are the essentials I need to buy to create my own SM kit?

Hi there!
Thanks for asking us. It is a really good idea, to get started with a kit so early. One thing to remember is that an SM’s choice in supplies varies depending on their personal experiences. For instance, Janell carries quick-stitch tape, a cotton sock full of rice, and a ratcheting speed wrench in her kit. Leslie has found keeping a stopwatch, an architecture ruler and small LED flashlight handy is very useful. She also keeps hole reinforcements stocked, because you never know when you or anyone else might need it. And Katie likes to keep sunglasses and honey (for sore throats and for people with blood sugar needs) with her. If you find something you like, keep it with you!

A solid kit can be broken into 5 parts: health, office supplies, costumes, tools and a miscellaneous catch-all

- Band-Aids
- Neosprin cream
- Acetaminophen
- Ibuprofen
- naproxen sodium
- tampons
- pads
- tea (especially if you work with singers)
- cough drops ( Ricola is popular)
- Ace bandage
- gauze
- hand sanitizer
- lotion
- ice pack
- tissues
-saline solution
-contact case
-eye drops
-Latex gloves

Office Supplies:
- Post-it Notes
- legal pads
- pens, pencils, and highlighters for you
- pens, pencils, and highlighters for performers
- erasers (I personally like the white vinyl erasers, they’re less messy than the pink ones and you will be erasing A LOT. -L)
- stapler (and staple remover)
- 3 hole punch (spend money on a good one)
- scissors
-dry erase markers
-pencil sharpener

- wig caps
- hair bands
- Bobby pins
- hair pins (these are different than Bobby pins)
- baby powder
- cheap combs
- needles
- black and white thread
- safety pins
- stitching pins
- hair gel
- travel sized shampoo, conditioner, and soap (I’m allergic to bar soap and don’t want it in my kit just in case, so I carry body wash - J)
- tweezers
- makeup removing wipes
- lint roller
-small mirror

-box cutter (you might want to wait until college for this one. -L)
-measuring tape
-hot glue gun

-Sunglasses (if your lighting designer is like, “USE ALL THE SIDE FILL” then you can look at the stage without going blind -K)
-Desk Clock
-Tennis ball
-Emergency snacks
-Eyeglass screwdriver

Obviously some of these things are more for rehearsal, while some are for backstage, and some are just things that are good to have around, either in your office, locker, car, wherever. Everyone’s kit is different and as long as you have what you need, you’re golden.

Good luck,
J, K, L (emenope)

anonymous asked:

imagine steve and bucky having a fight because steve almost sacrificed himself again and bucky leaves their appartment angry for a mission without telling steve he would be gone for a few days so steve decides to go to sam's and sleep there until he comes back (because he's stubborn and angry and he's like "oh if he can leave for days without even letting me know so can I!) and now bucky is pissed and worried at sam's because he basically returned to an empty apartment (they're both idiots ikr)

Bucky is packing his duffle bag for a new mission when Natasha calls.

“Steve’s in medical,” are the first words out of her mouth.  And that’s how he knows it’s bad.  Every time Steve goes and gets himself injured, it’s a team effort to keep Bucky from losing his mind with worry.  It’s become a silent rule that nobody ever breaks it to him that bluntly.  Always has to come after reassurance: “Steve’s okay, but” “We’re alright, but” “Everyone’s fine, but”.  This time there is no “okay”, “alright”, “fine”.  Steve’s in medical and he’s none of the above.

He’s already running for the elevator when Natasha tells him to come down.  

“Steve!” he calls, shoving the double doors open and skidding to a halt in the middle of the room.  Several cubicles are cordoned off with white curtains, but he doesn’t know which one they have Steve in.  “Steve!” he yells again, turning a full circle, trying to catch a snippet of his voice in conversation, a glimpse of his enormous silhouette.  All he finds is Natasha curled in a waiting room chair.  She stands up and walks over to meet him, already talking when her small hands wrap around his wrists.

Steve is in surgery for seven hours.

Bucky doesn’t sleep for another 43.

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I can't quit you, Baby.

10x02 Reichenbach coda (AO3)
Rated T - Destiel if you squint

Summary: Sam can’t stand seeing the Impala trashed.  He cleans her up and is flooded with memories that remind him just how much of his life has been lived, sitting beside his brother in this big black muscle car.


“What, you think you can shove a needle into my neck and make me all better, Sammy? Sorry, man, the demon inside me is 100% pure grade A Dean Winchester. I ain’t smokin’ out of this hot body.”

“Dean, we know how to cure a demon. I can cure you.”

“There’s nothing to cure,” Dean spits the last word as though it’s bitter on his tongue.  "This is the new me now.  I’m finally free.“

"Yeah? You don’t look so free to me,” Sam deadpans.

Dean sneers and raises his eyebrows, “Oh, you mean this?” He shakes his hands, rattling the cuffs that bind them together. “You really think this little bit of bondage play is going to keep me here?  I’m not just another stunt demon. Knight of Hell, remember?”

Sam sighs and purses his lips, hearing his brother speak this way burns a hole in his gut but he can’t let Dean get to him.

“I’m a chip off the old Cain block. And when I get out of these,” Dean smiles at him, predatory and feral, “well, gotta uphold family tradition, right? Brother killing brother…it’s the new family business.”

“No… you won’t,” Sam says with a small head shake and all the resolve he can muster.  

Dean just laughs, “You sound awfully sure about that for a man who’s got a demon handcuffed in a devil’s trap.”

“I know my big brother’s in there and, Dean, you’re home now and I’m going to help you.”

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Enchanting Espionage Part 2

Writer: Brittany

Word count: 2,044

Reader x Balthazar

A/N I got a couple requests to do a part 2 for this and I had a few ideas so I wrote it out! Hope you enjoy!



Taking in your reflection in your full-length mirror for the hundredth time that night you pass your fingers through your hair one last time and head out to the library. Dean is sitting at the table, feet crossed on top of it as he sips at his beer. Sam is across from him picking the label off of his own and both raise their eyes as you enter the room.

“Well?” you ask, holding your arms out.

“You’re wearing converse on a date?” Dean asks abruptly and Sam gives him a stern look.

“He told me to dress comfortably. This is comfortable,” you reply as you look down at your outfit: a simple dark grey tank top, a pair of jeans with the least amount of wear and tear you could find, and your favorite pair of converse.

“You look great, Y/N. Are you nervous?” Sam asks.

“No,” you lie, “I mean, it’s not a real date, right? I’m still looking for information. I’ll just get in, out, and on my way.” You hear Dean mutter something under his breath in reply. “What’s that, Dean?”

“I’m just worried that getting in, out, and on his way is Balthazar’s plan, too,” he says looking you straight in the eyes.

“Dean!” Sam admonishes.

“Dude’s a winged Lothario, Sam! I’ve been holding my tongue all week. At least last time we knew where Y/N was going to be summoning him and what was going on. This is out of left field, and that address he gave her? I looked it up and there’s nothing there, no restaurant, no nothing! And changing the time from seven to eleven at night? What’s he playing at?” Dean gets it all out in one breath and then seems to deflate, seeing that you and Sam are both eyeing him tiredly.

“Dean, I appreciate the concern. But you guys know full-well that angels can be…quirky. I’m sure he doesn’t have anything nefarious planned. If he wanted to kill me he could have done it when I summoned him. I’ve got this under control.” You walk over to grab your purse on the table and something inside glints and catches your eye. Confused, you reach in and pull out an angel blade. Holding it up you look back and forth between the two brothers. Sam holds his hands out and raises his eyebrows while Dean seems to find something on the ceiling very interesting as he avoids eye contact. You walk over to him, bend down, and give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m not taking this. I’ve got it under control,” you repeat. 

“I know you do,” Dean says with a reluctant smile. “Just be careful.”

“And have fun,” Sam adds with a grin. You chuckle as you sling your purse, lighter now, over your shoulder and head up the stairs.

“Don’t wait up,” you tease, heading out into the balmy night and shutting the door behind you before either of them can say anything.

Your stomach begins to do little, uncomfortable flips as you drive the Impala to the specified location. You try to repeat to yourself what you’d assured Dean and Sam; this was just another bout of intel gathering. But when you thought about the goosebumps Balthazar’s small touches had given you, that lovely accent of his, and the ease with which he carried himself it was hard to deny you weren’t the teensiest bit nervous. His invitation had seemed genuine as had his interest in you. You decided to try not to over think it, turning on some music but it was one of Dean’s tapes you’d had to listen to about a million times and you quickly turned it back off, driving the rest of the way in silence. 

You pulled up to the abandoned lot your phone’s GPS had taken you to; just as Dean had said there was nothing there. Except Balthazar, smiling at your approach.

“I’m glad you got here before me,” you said as you got out of the car. “I would have thought I was in the wrong place. Or that this was a hit on my life,” you add, nervously laughing.

“Not at all. I just needed somewhere private to begin the evening–whisking you away in the middle of a crowd can be a bit conspicuous.”

“Oh, I’m being whisked, am I?” you grinned.

“If all goes well,” he said as you approached him. And with that he took your hand in his. It was quick, just a second or two passed in a burst of air like you were in a wind tunnel, taking your breath with it. And when you next looked around the dingy parking lot had disappeared. You were standing in a wide expanse of tall, soft grass with a crystal clear sky above you filled with stars. You could hear the sound of the ocean and smell the salt in the air. 

“Where are we?” you gasped finding Balthazar’s face in the darkness before you.

“We’re on the sea cliffs of north-western France. It’s a bit dark now but we should be seeing the sunrise in just a bit here. The time difference put a bit of a wrench in the plans, hence the late meeting time. Apologies; eleven o’clock is a little late for dinner,” he explained in a rush.

“Well I think I can overlook that since, you know, I’m in France. This is unbelievable,” you breathe. He puts his hand on the small of your back and turns you around so that you’re facing a small wooden table, looking terribly out of place in these natural surroundings. It’s set for two and there is a single, long, white candle lit in the middle. The two of you walk over and he pulls the chair out for you. He takes his seat across from you.

He takes the bottle of wine sitting on the table and raises his eyebrows to you. Nodding, still in shock about where this evening has gone so quickly, you hold your glass out and he fills it for you. 

“This is a Macon Rouge, goes great with pizza,” he says as he fills his own glass.


“I hope that’s alright,” he adds quickly. You’re pleased; he seems a little bit nervous himself and knowing that makes your own butterflies lessen just a bit.

“Oh my god, yes. Pizza is my kryptonite,” you say as he produces a box from below the table, putting a slice of the most delicious looking cheese pizza you’ve ever seen on both of your plates. You sneak a glance at him as you spread your napkin on your lap and catch him smiling to himself.

“Well, Y/N, I’d say this interrogation is going even better than the first, would you agree?”

“Let me try the pizza before I make any definitive statements about that,” you reply.

“Ah, yes. A smart huntress knows how to make informed decisions,” he nods. “But then let me ask you this as I’ve forgotten the protocol: do either of us get to do any tying up on the second interrogation?”

You almost choke on your bite of pizza despite yourself as you stifle a laugh. “The only tying up that’s going to happen tonight is my getting tongue-tied when you flirt like that!”

“Darling, if it’s your tongue that needs loosening we can definitely work on that,” he replies cheekily, eyeing you across the table. 

“That sounds like more of a third interrogation kind of tactic,” you grin.

“Well. To sweet torture then, eh?” he asks and raises his glass to yours in a toast. You’re suddenly very glad for the darkness that hides the blush rising in your cheeks as you tap your glasses together. 

An hour in and you still find yourself thinking with awe every few minutes, “I am in France!” The wine was amazing, also from France as it turns out. And the pizza? When you asked the place, Balthazar simply replied “Sicily” as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Authentic Italian pizza with the smoothest red wine you’d had, on beautifully desolate sea cliffs while you conversed with an angel. It was all very surreal. 

“And what were you doing before it all turned to hunting and fearsome creatures?” Balthazar asks as you pick a piece of chocolate (from Germany, of course) from the dessert plate between you. 

“I was in college. I hadn’t picked a major yet and was still working on my general education courses. Honestly, getting thrown into this life was kind of a blessing,” you say as you pop the chocolate into your mouth, rolling it around with your tongue, letting all the flavor melt slowly. He blinks at you in surprise. “What?” you laugh.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who called the hunting life a blessing,” he replies, staring at you.

“Well, I know it’s a lot of blood and violence. God knows I’ve been hurt a time or two but I get to help people, I don’t have to work in some cubicle counting down the days ‘til my next vacation. I’m lucky. Also, I’m pretty good at compartmentalizing it all and not letting hunting affect how I feel about my life,” you shrug.

“So what you’re saying is you have the perfect personality to become a serial killer,” he grins at you, refilling both of your glasses.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” you laugh.

“You said you’d been hurt a time or two. Anything serious? You don’t seem gun-shy about any of this.”

“Nothing crazy. Just a few scars, typical hunter stuff. I got this from a shifter,” you say, showing him your two-inch scar on your left wrist just below your thumb. “He had a knife, but mine was bigger.”

“Hmm, tough little huntress, you,” Balthazar murmurs as he reaches across the table and lightly runs his fingers over the scar. Again, the goosebumps blossom along the trail his touch leaves. You look away for a moment trying to gain your composure and that’s when you see the first hint of light coming up over the horizon. Balthazar follows your gaze, keeping his fingers on your skin, and the two of you sit in companionable silence as the sun slowly rises, distant waves down below acting as a soundtrack to the dawning day.

When the sun has risen and you’ve had ample time to take your surroundings in now they’re shining with daylight, the two of you stand and he crosses the short distance to you.

“This was lovely,” he says. He’s impossibly close to you now. “You are a delight.” Your head feels fuzzy and, being a hardened hunter, you know it’s not the wine. You look into his blue eyes, almost grey in this light, wrap your hands lightly behind his neck and pull him down to meet his lips to yours. He’s not tentative but he is very gentle as he moves his lips with yours, hands cupping either side of your face. He parts his lips slightly and you join again, this time getting just the smallest taste of chocolate and red wine, and it is magic, just as the whole evening was. As the kiss deepens and you feel it all the way down to your toes, a tingling, dizzy sensation runs through you where you could swear some of his grace was running through your veins and you feel feather light. When you pull away and look at him the realization strikes you that the date is ending, this is your goodnight kiss. Your brows knit together and he moves his hands to wrap around your body, pulling you flush against him.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Espionage. Wasn’t I supposed to get something from you tonight?” you ask trailing your fingers through his hair lightly.

“Oh you have,” he says quietly. “You’re more dangerous than I thought.” And before you have time to question him, he’s pulling you toward him once more, hands trailing over your back, lips on lips, and your eyes close while you melt into it, all thoughts of intel chased far from your mind.

"Clutter" One Shot
Author: Alex (mishasmaiden)

Original Imagine Link:  Imagine the Impala being so full of stuff, so you have to sit on Cas’ lap.

Warnings: fluff


The night is quiet. The only thing you can hear, save a few stray crickets, is the crunch of the gravel under your boots. The trek back to the Impala is slow, as Sam and Dean are carrying a tied up demon, Cas walking behind.

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