In honor of TVD giving us what we’ve all wanted, I give you an edit I made for a friend TWO YEARS AGO!! I hate this show I love this show, fuck this show I don’t want it to end. I laughed, I cried, I screamed, I squealed. I’VE BEEN COMPROMISED I AM FEELING EMOTIONS SEND HELP!!!!!!
A/N : I know the lyrics are out of order but I love this song and wanted to use it for a fic and it was the only way I could make in fit.
Reid x reader - scroll for part one!
Four months had passed. Four hellish months.
Every second you spent without him was hell on earth.
You didn’t get chance to say goodbye to him. That night he’d told you to go home you now realised that he must have known. And he didn’t want to you there. Which meant you hadn’t got to tell him all the things you wanted to.
Like how you couldn’t imagine life without him. How you’d planned your wedding in your head already even though you’d only been engaged for two months. How excited his Mom had been when you talked to her on the phone, she’d already ordered at least five hats. Hats she’d now had to cancel or send back.
You couldn’t tell him how perfect he was, and how thankful you were for meeting him. You couldn’t tell him how long you’d actually crushed on him before you plucked up the courage to ask him out, your heart hammering as he’d stuttered out a yes and blushed red. You’d never get the chance to hold him again, to feel his embrace, his lips, his everything.
You hated him for leaving you how he did. Three hours after you’d left his side, at his insistence.
When Morgan had burst into your bedroom in those early hours, you hadn’t needed to ask. The look on his face had been enough and you’d both collapsed in tears. His best friend, and your best friend and lover, your world. Gone.
You couldn’t even remember his funeral. You’d gone, of course you’d gone. But you could barely recall what had happened there. All you remembered was being distraught because you’d not been able to find his favourite purple scarf and you’d wanted to bury him with it.
You still couldn’t find it and it plagued you everyday. You’d had it, the night you’d come home from the hospital. You’d gone to sleep with it tangled around your arms. But it was nowhere to be found, and you turned your house upside down looking for it.
Spencer had moved in three months before his death, and his stuff was still in boxes. Rather convenient when you thought about it. ‘At least it would be make clearing them out easier,’ had been one thought that had passed through your mind early one morning when you couldn’t sleep. Then seconds later you’d burst into tears at the thought of removing his stuff, his things from your home.
Days blended into nights; half the time you weren’t sure what time it actually was. You rarely left the house now, you had no reason to. You were on indefinite leave from work and when you’d gotten engaged, Spencer had made arrangements so that any death in service benefits would be split between yourself and his mom and you’d done the same with yours.
Neither of you had quite imagined you ever having to use them, but needless to say, they were sat in your bank account paying your bills for you.
The team still came around when they could. Penny and Derek more than the others, although Aaron checked in via text daily. If you didn’t respond within an hour or two he’d call. He was worried about you, they all were.
You knew why. Four weeks after the funeral Derek had turned up at your house to find you sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of vodka and a tub of prescription pain killers you’d had stashed in your drawer since you’d injured your shoulder on a case two years ago. Derek had been distraught, begging you not to do anything stupid, saying how he couldn’t lose you too, you were all he had left of Spencer.
At the end of the world
Or the last thing I see
Never coming home
Never coming home
Could I? Should I?
So you didn’t go through with it. You weren’t sure if you’d really intended to or not but it seemed like an option at the time. Your Catholic upbringing had niggled at you and said you wouldn’t be reunited with him anyway, not that you actually believed in any of that. When you were dead, you were dead. That was it. There was no heaven, hell or purgatory, just like there was no such things as ghosts or spirits.
It was silly you knew, but since the day with the vodka your house had felt strange. Not bad strange but just… Like you weren’t alone.
You’d be walking around and swear you could smell Spencer’s cologne, or you’d be looking for something; one of his books or his watch and you’d turn around and it would be there. Right in the place you’d just looked.
But you put it down to you not being it the right mindset. You were forgetful right now, you couldn’t think about anything outside of your little bubble. Your tiny little bubble that consisted of just you now, and the memories of things that had happened and of the things that should have been.
The nights were the worst.
You’d lie in bed on his side, hugging his pillow which even now still smelled faintly of his shampoo. You weren’t changing that pillow cover, ever. And then you’d cry.
Sometimes you’d cried yourself to sleep, some times you weren’t sure if you’d slept at all.
And then there were times when you were certain you had to be dreaming….Although when you’d wake in the morning you’d be more tired than ever as if you’d not slept at all.
But you must have been dreaming. Because it wasn’t possible.
In those dreams Spencer would be there. Lying next to you on the bed, his arms wrapped around you and he’d be talking to you.
You’d laugh, and reminisce about old times, and he’d kiss your neck and make you shiver from his breath.
He’d tell you how you had to be strong, how you needed to move on from him.
And you’d tell him that it wasn’t possible, it just wasn’t. He was your true love, your one and only and there was no way you’d ever get over him.
He’d hold you and smooth your hair back until you fell asleep within your dream, and when you’d wake, for a moment you’d feel happy.
And all the things that you never ever told me
And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me
Never coming home
Never coming home
Could I? Should I?
And then you’d remember.
And you’d start the day all over again, counting down until bed time in the hope that you’d dream about him again.
Recently the dreams had become more and more frequent. You didn’t mind. It meant you got to see him. You’d go to bed wearing his shirt or his watch. You’d found if you wore something of his, it seemed more likely that you’d dream about him.
And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me
For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me
But you still couldn’t find that blasted purple scarf.
If I fall
If I fall (down)
Spencer needed to stop.
I never said I’d lie and wait forever
If I died, we’d be together
I can’t always just forget her
But she could try
He was draining her physically and mentally. She thought she was dreaming when he was there but she wasn’t.
Well, she was in that weird state between sleep and wake, that was where he’d found he could speak to her and make her feel his presence. He was sure she felt it sometimes during the day as well. But it was stronger at night.
He started coming when he’d seen her that day with the vodka and pills. He couldn’t let her do that, but he couldn’t physically stop her. He wasn’t sure how to communicate with her at that point.
Luckily Morgan had stopped her, although part of him wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t. Would Spencer have been reunited with Y/N? Or was purgatory real. He hadn’t thought ghosts to be real either but here he was.
But… him being there wasn’t helping her.
Yes, she seemed happier when he’d showed himself to her, but it wasn’t helping with the grieving process and he knew it.
But he couldn’t stop, he just wanted to hold her one more time. Each night he’d tell himself it was the last time. And each night when she’d dress herself in one of his shirts, he’d find himself waiting for her eyes to close and then he’d crawl onto the bed next to her waiting for her to be able to feel him there.
He needed to stop visiting her, to let her get on with her life. She had other people to look out for her. She didn’t need him. He was scared he was making it worse. That if he kept talking to her, she’d get ideas again. The vodka, the pills.
Get the feeling that you’re never
All alone and I remember now
At the top of my lungs in my arms she dies
He just….. didn’t want to.
They were meant to have forever together. And now, all he had were those moments when she wasn’t really asleep but wasn’t really awake.
We talked for so long about stars and space and we lied down on the ground and just looked up. He kissed me. Like three times. He’s really good at kissing.
Sorry it’s been so long. I’ll try to update you all more often.
It was just really cool talking to Wirt for that long and actually being on a real date with him. I think this is the start of something special.
In other news, the wedding planning is going really well! Pacifica and Mabel went dress shopping the other day, even though the wedding isn’t for a while. Stan is helping so much. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ford or McGucket so happy. They’re a really cute couple. I hope I’m that in love with someone when I’m that old.
Wirt is coming over later. We’re going to play video games on his Xbox. I can’t wait!!
Feel free to ask me questions to make me talk more. I need to post more on this blog.
I have serious insecurities about my image which is why I never post selfies for years but I promised myself I’d be more confident about my body and my face this year uwu sorry to all those people who keep tagging me in those selfie thingies and I never answer to them. Hope it’s not too late ;;;
on a side note, hi I’m single and hella gay pls talk to mebecauseidontknowhowtodotheflirtingthingreesesinpieces
I just wanna say i’m so in love with your writings aaaand i was wondering if you could write a bucky x reader and the reader is so friendly with everyone, but she feels so alone because thinks nobody can fall in love with her, but bucky did. one day, she feels so down the she starts crying and saying awful things to herself looking in the mirror, but bucky hears everything and that makes him confess his feelings. i’m sorry it’s too long,. and if you don’t want to do it, it’s okay <3
Bucky x reader imagine where she had really horrible anxiety and he is the only one that can calm her down? would you mind putting some angst in there and like one of the other avengers caused her to panic (she isn’t an avenger) thanks doll ;) xx
You weren’t as badass as Natasha or Wanda. You weren’t as sarcastic and outgoing as your father, you were just you. You lived with the Avengers because your dad was Tony Stark, the Avengers were like your huge, crazy, loud family. You loved having them as a family, you loved every last bit of it, but sometimes it’s hard not to doubt your looks or skills.
You were clumsy. You ran into walls, got your shirt caught on pointy objects, face planted into gardens, and tripped going up the stairs. You weren’t as strong as the others, you never worked on your upper body strength because you never really cared about it.
You would run twice a week for exercise and that was it. You hated working out, it was the worst thing you’ve ever experienced. You would much rather be drinking a milkshake while watching the Victoria Secret Fashion Show. Like you were right now.
“Oo, fancy.” You were sitting criss crossed on the couch, a blanket spread across your bare legs and your baggy long sleeve shirt rolled up slightly on your arms. A milkshake in one hand while your eyes remained glued to the screen projecting the fashion show.
“That looks painful.” Scott spoke with a mouth full of his own milkshake. He was slouched next to you, his legs spread out in front of him and his back surrounded by toss pillows. He was tilting slightly onto the arm of the couch but he seemed to be comfortable.
“I would never wear something that heavy looking on my dick.” Scott took another large gulp of his shake, twisting his face in pain as a brain freeze clearly took over his mind temporarily.
“But it’s so pretty.” You admired the glammed up bra, “Oo, look she has wings! I wish I had wings, how fun would that be?”
“Super fun! I would strut around in wings all day if they looked like that.” Scott glanced over at you, but you were still consumed in admiring all the glamorous outfits and models.
“I have wings.” Sam called out from the chair on the other side of the couch. His legs hanging over the arm of the chair and his back resting against the other arm. His phone rested on his chest and his shake was long gone, the empty cup sitting on the coffee table. “They’re even cooler because mine work.”
“Mm.” Both you and Scott made the same sound and twisted your lips as you both looked at Sam.
“Not the same thing. Yours aren’t as glamorous, now are they?” You turned your attention back at the screen and made your lips in the shape of an ‘o’ as you looked at Gigi Hadid walk down the runway. She was your favorite model, her and Cara Delevingne.
“Yeah. You get feathers, sparkles, jewels and glitter on your wings, then we’ll talk.” Scott nodded his head swiftly and ignored Sam’s narrowed eyes as he directed his eyes back to the Fashion Show.
“I know a girl who can hook you up with some bedazzlement on those wings of yours, Sam.” You winked in his direction, a smirk tilting on your lips. “And by girl I mean me, and by bedazzlement I mean some superglue and a trip to Hobby Lobby.”
“I hate both of you.” Sam chuckled under his breath and shifted around a little in his chair.
“Man, I wish I had legs like those.” Scott shook his head and moved the straw in his shake around, trying to get a good sip. You giggled at Scott’s comment, you always found him to say the strangest but most awesome things.
“You know who has legs like those?” Sam paused, waiting for Scott to answer but when Scott kept gulping down his shake, Sam answered himself. “Natasha. She even has the walk down too, she would slay all those other models.”
Scott hummed in agreement. “And Wanda has the hair of a Victoria Secret model. I wish my hair was as luscious as hers, that would save me fifteen minutes in the morning.”
“You spend fifteen minutes on your hair?” Sam scuffed and tilted his head back to look at Scott.
“This,” Scott motioned to his hair. “doesn’t just happen, Sam. It takes time, effort and skill, okay?”
“Man, you’re crazy.” Sam chuckled, shaking his head and slouching back down in his chair again. “For real though, Wanda and Nat are hella attractive-”
You shuffled around in your seat, the thoughts that consumed your mind were driving you insane. All they were talking about was how beautiful Natasha and Wanda were, of course you had to agree, they were both stunningly gorgeous. They were badass, strong and attractive all at once. They were your best friends, but it always hurt you when you would go places with them and everyone would notice them and not you.
You weren’t as stunning as them, you weren’t as flawless and beautiful as them. Of course you weren’t. Everyone expected Tony Stark’s daughter to be drop dead gorgeous, but somehow they always seemed surprised to see you. You were never what they were expecting.
You stood up suddenly, your nose tingling and your eyes starting to twitch with tears. Your chest felt tight and your hands felt clammy, you needed a moment to pull yourself together before you came back out here and pretended to not even care. You dropped the blanket previously covering your bare legs on the couch where you used to be sitting and placed your milkshake, that suddenly made you feel bloated, on the coffee table.
“I have to pee.” You announced it as a joke, happily your voice didn’t shake and you seemed to be holding it together on the outside fairly well. You knew you were about to break, you had to hide.
“Okay.” Scott and Sam both watched you speed down the hallway. “Be back soon, the Angels are about to come out!’
“Man, seriously though, Nat and Wanda have the legs and hair, but damn, Y/N has the whole package. The face, hair, walk, legs, and even the hips.” Sam shook his head in astonishment.
Scott nodded his head in agreement and pulled a part of your blanket on his thighs, he knew it was your favorite blanket but he loved it just as much. It was soft and always smelled good.
“She looks more like a Victoria Secret model than some of the Victoria Secret models.” Scott talked with another mouthful of his shake, he didn’t even care though. “Have you seen the way everyone looks at her, she steals the attention away from Nat and Wanda every time they go out.”
“Hell, she steals the attention away from us Avengers. And we’re Avengers.”
Who watches The Sign of Three and thinks Sherlock is a straight man?
For god’s sake! The man literally:
-Plans a wedding including building a tiny diorama for the seating arrangement
-learns to fold not one but TWO different types of napkins for the place settings
-twirls in a gay little circle
-spends the ENTIRE time deducing things about eligible men at the reception
-SAYS THE WORD LILAC WHEN CORRECTING ANOTHER MAN WHO CALLED THE BRIDESMAIDS DRESSES PURPLE
Like, my pals, friends, people of the planet earth and beyond…
The man is gayer than the desert is dry and the day is long.
I’ve had an idea for a jack/gabe brawl based on the
junkenstein’s revenge formula: their wedding. It’d be set back in the height of
overwatch, and a section of watchpoint Gibraltar could be converted into the
setting. The wedding is interrupted by omnics/talon/talon led omnics, im not so
fussy on the particulars, the point is the beautiful day is interrupted and instead
of being engaged in matrimony Jack and Gabe are now engaged in combat. Ana was
probably their best (wo)man so she’s there. And the fourth member of the squad
could be Reinhardt or Torbjorn.
McCree would have been at the ceremony, but at the attack he
took off with Fareeha (and the other guests) to protect her. This means he can
also be the narrator with lines like:
“And with that explosion, the bastards ruined the cake me
and the boss had spent all week making.” “And that was when Talon, bless their
hearts, realised just why Jack Morrison was not a man to mess with.” And “If
only the wedding party has some sort of attack that could lock onto every enemy
in sight and shoot each one simultaneously. What a damn shame that dashing
Jesse McCree was off protecting the lovely young Ms Amari.”
Other interactions could include:
Jack using his disappointed and mad Dad Voice on those trying to ruin this day for him. The grooms constantly talking throughout the battle. “This
reminds me of the day I proposed to you” and Ana being annoyed that they couldn’t
just have one peaceful day and could
you two stop flirting you can get to
that later tonight once we finish this. Along with Gabriel “a whole base of
agents and I’m still the one cleaning
up this mess” Reyes annoyed whenever their suits he made himself get shot at. And
Reinhardt just wants his friends to have the greatest day ever and to move on
to the reception for feasting and merriment.