and I have really big self esteem problems about how I smell


if u haven’t noticed yet, Remus John Lupin is the love of my life

This is part 2 of Truth or Dare, but it could also be a complete different imagine, so you don’t really need to read part 1

Feel free to request!

word count: 1521

Originally posted by potter-imagines-here

“Hello, Y/N.” You look up from your book only to see James taking a seat next to you. “Why are you reading? You’re supposed to eat. Did you accidentally switch reading with eating?”

“No, I already ate breakfast, James. What is it?” you ask, as courteously as possible, eager to go back to your book. You were in the Great Hall, finished breakfast quite early and it was Saturday, so you didn’t have anything to do until afternoon.

“Can’t I make conversation with my friend?” he asks innocently and you raise your eyebrows at him. “Fine, fine,” he sighs. “I just… you have a date with Remus tonight, am I right?”

“Yes,” you answer and can’t help the redness appearing on your cheeks.

“Well, you see, I’m really not supposed to tell you this and I know we’re all friends, but…” he trails of, taking a deep breath. “Remus has liked you for a while and he was and still is very insecure about himself. We always try to raise his self-esteem… he has some… problems, which he should tell you about, it’s none of my business, but sometimes, most of the time, it’s not really working.“

“What are you trying to say, James?”

“That he’s head over heels for you and don’t expect him to act as a tough boy or something, he’ll probably be shy and closed in himself because, as I said, he’s very insecure and probably thinks he doesn’t deserve you-”

“That’s nonsense! I like him very much, he deserves me as much as I deserve him,” you say, frowning.

“I know, Y/N, that’s why I’m saying this. You both are amazing persons and I am very glad you two finally are dating, but be gentle with him. Please,” he looks at you hopefully.

“There is really no need to ask me to be gentle with him,” you say softly. “Repeating myself, I happen to like him very much and I wouldn’t hurt him. He’s also my friendーwell, now obviously more than that, but he was my friend first.” You smile.

James smiles, nodding. “I’m glad to see someone finally treats him the way he deserves, so with all of this being said, I wish you luck with your date. Oh, and Y/N?”


“Whatever he tells you, don’t say something that could hurt him. Where are you going, anyway? He wouldn’t tell any of us, he said we’d make fun of him.”

“Oh, just Hogsmeade. Where else could we go?”


“Remus,” you said, as though making sure he knew you were here. You were supposed to meet in the Entrance Hall to go together in to Hogsmeade.

He turned around, facing you, and a slight blush appeared on his cheeks, along with a sincere smile. “Y/N. You look amazing.”

“I’m pretty sure I look like any other day, but thanks, Rem,” you laugh.

“Yeah, but the difference is that now I can tell you without it being awkward. It’s just that you look amazing everyday,” he smiles cheekily at you.

“Oh, aren’t you charming.” You laugh, trying to hide the fact that you were blushing. “Shall we go?”

He nods and you two start walking in silence, both of you being scared to ruin the mood, until you both reach the magical town. “So… where were you planing to go?” You ask, looking at him for a second, then back at the road, recognising a few of your house mates.

“Well, there’s this book shop-”

“Ah, books. You know me very well, Remus Lupin,” you playfully wink at him.

“Y/N, we’re both bookworms, how can I not know?” he laughs. “And after that we could go wherever you want to go, as long as you’re happy.”

“We should do something that makes you happy as well,” you look at him, frowning slightly.

“Y-yeah, well, um, what about Honeydukes?” he stutters.

“That’d be great,” you smile and remembering what James said about his insecurity, you take his hand in yours and drag him towards the bookshop.

You enter, hand in hand, something that made you feel protected and giddy, because, as cheesy as it sounded, it felt like it was made to fit in yours. The smell of old books fills your nostrils and you rush toward the shelves with your favourite genre of books. You’ve never been to this bookshop before and it was very far indeed, but you would have noticed it. “Pretty awesome, isn’t it?” Remus whispered in your ear. “They have a section with muggle books as well, isn’t it just perfect?”

You turn aroun, facing him. “How come I didn’t know about this place?”

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises,” he smirks. You put your arms around his neck and press your lips on his. “Yeah, you are,” you said.

You started looking at the books, finding all of them very interesting, but one of them caught your eye, so you took your wallet out, ready to buy it. “Dang it,” you mumble. You took the wallet with your muggle money.

“What is it, love?” Remus appears by your side, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Nothing, nothing.”

He frowns. “No, really, what is it?”

You sigh. “I took my muggle money instead of wizard money, no big deal,” you smile up at him.

He takes the book from your hand and goes to pay for it. “No, Remus, don’t!” you whisper-yell after him, but he already paid for it.

As you get out of the shop, he hands you the book you wanted to buy and smiles at you. “Remus, you didn’t have to,” you sigh.

“Nonsense, love. You obviously wanted that book, consider it a gift,” he smiles innocently at you. “Besides, would you rather me buying you a drink or a book?”

“What did I do to deserve you?” you mumble to yourself, smiling at the ground.

After you both went to Honeydukes and bought a lot of sweets and candy, which he paid for again, because you had muggle money, you went to sit on a bench and eat them. “You know I’ll pay you back when we get back to the castle, right?

He chuckled. “You can try, but I won’t accept it.

“But why?” you whine.

“If money can buy things that make you happy, then I don’t care, Y/N,” he doesn’t look at you, but distracts himself with opening a bar of chocolate.

“You’re being so nice to me,” you mumble, now imitating him and opening more sweets to eat.

“Because you deserve it,” he looks up at you. “But Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you before we take this further. I know it’s just our first date, but… it’s important. You need to know what you’re getting yourself into.” He frowns. Was this what James was warning you about?

“You know you can tell me anything Remus, you’re still the same in my eyes and will always be.” You look at his concerned face and suddenly start to become worried. “What is it, Remus?

“I-I just don’t want you to see me different, t-that’s all…” he trails off. “You just, you just mean so much to me and I don’t want to ruin this day we had together, but you deserve to know this before we get into something serious-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you cup his face in your hands, letting him know that you’re here for him. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll still see you the same loving, kind and wonderful person you are.

“I just don’t want you to leave me,” he sobs.

“I won’t, I promise. Just tell me so you can get it off your chest.”

“I’m-I’m a werewolf,” he looks down, as if ashamed of himself. “Go ahead, you can gasp, widen your eyes and run, I won’t bite until it’s full moon,” he says in a low tone.

You wrap your arms around his torso and squeeze him as tight as you can. “That’s okay.

“You don’t wanna run away?” he mumbles in your shirt. “B-but I’m a werewolf!” he pulls away, looking at you surprised.

“So what? That doesn’t make me love you less,” you smile endearingly.

He had his mouth open, as if trying to find words, but now knowing how to put them in a sentence. “I love you so much, Y/N, you don’t know how happy I am that you’re not scared of me,” he pulls you back in the hug.

“I’d be a twat if I’d do that, honestly. Hey, Remus?”

“Yes, babe?”

“Do you wanna be my boyfriend?”

“I was supposed to ask that! Don’t take away my masculinity!” he exclaims with the biggest grin on his face.

“Oh, so you don’t wanna be my boyfriend, fine then.” You get up from the bench and start walking, until he grabs your wrist and yanks you towards him, making you bump into his chest and kisses you passionately.

“How stupid I’d be if I’d say no to such an opportunity?”

Chapter 9 - I’m Not Kissing You

Richard Speight jr x reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Tags: @im-gabriels-bitch

@destielschild @thefelinemedia78 @ohmychukk@bbgmichael @thebookisbtr @perksofbeingafangirl26 @feelmyroarrrr @izzyweisz @ladycerule @crowleysprincess159 @pumacat69 @angelspeight @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll@lucifersxvessel @cyaa-niide @queen-of-toro @janimoon @ourloveisforthelovely @bookchic20 @queenofhellwithcrowley @captain-winter-fros

The walk to the bar put you on edge with Richard. All of your friends, Richard’s and yours, were walking in front of you both chatting away, singing and jumping about in excitement. But there you were walking nervously next to the man you adored, not saying a single word to him, he ignoring you too. Once you had all made your way to the bar you all clambered inside one after the other. The bar was big with very few people inside and it had that typical bar smell, leather and spilt cider. They had the bar in the center of the room with two bartenders stood behind chatting away with each other and waiting for their next customer. Briana and Kim headed straight for the bar ordering their first drinks of the night, certainly not their last, whilst Osric, Jared and Jensen went over to the pool table they had hidden away in the dark corner.

The rest of the gang found three large tables and moved them all up together, sitting around on the chairs. Your friend patted the seat next to her, inviting you to join her and sit with the gang. You were happy to have somebody distract you from the man stood behind you, so you obliged. You began to become more comfortable, being added into the conversation a little more and laughing with the guys. Kim and Briana came to the table, placing their beers down and sitting together opposite you and your friend. You were distracted by the two loud women and you hadn’t yet noticed that Richard had sat uncomfortably close to you, Rob opposite him.

You turned your head to the right to see what was rubbing against your thigh and you realised who had joined you. Richard was sat on a stool next to you with his thigh leaning against yours and his hand on your knee. What really confused you was the way he was pretending it was normal for him to do. He wasn’t looking your way nor talking to you, yet there his hand and thigh were. He was acting as if he wasn’t touching you so personally as he continued to joke with Rob, looking at something he was showing him on his phone.

Your stomach dropped, suddenly taking away any appetite for a good night you had. You understood what guys were like and that they like to mock and joke a girl about feelings or love or lust. But what you hated most was the fact that Richard was now doing it in public. You started to wonder if he’d figured out your feelings toward him, and as your stomach became more empty, so did your glass. You must have had three beers already since you’d been there and that had only been about half an hour. Of course the guys had gone through almost the same, but they were a lot bigger than you and could handle their drink a LOT better.

You sat there quietly, nodding or smiling when somebody said something to you. That was until Rob held his phone up at you and pulled you out of your daze.

“Y/N! Hey, scoot in! come on!” Happy blue eyes were beaming at you from across the table, ushering you closer to the person you wanted to be furthest away from in the world. You politely declined his photo, telling him the lighting would make you look bad and other excuses. But that was before a strong arm pulled you into the side of Richard. Your body fell towards him, and he pressed the side of your heads together. Rob took the photograph and uploaded it to twitter before you could even shout at the pair of them.

“Guys! what the hell I had literally no time to react to that!” You complained, mostly focusing your anguish at Rob.

“Hey, he could have kissed you! You should be glad he didn’t.” Rob argued, shaking his head.

“Yet.” Richard added sternly.

“Yeah, no. Never going to happen.” At this point you were no longer joking. You were dead set on never letting the man come near you again, not like that. You wanted to look after your self esteem instead of giving in to that gorgeous sea of gold that were Richard’s eyes. You stood up, stumbling slightly from your alcohol consumption and walked off to the bar for another drink. You ordered your beer and watched as the bartender poured the drink for you. A gentle tap on the shoulder caused you to turn your head to the side. Rob was leaning against the bar smiling at you, in rather a sweet and innocent way.

“Hey…” You spoke quietly, not in the mood for any more joking around. Your heart was at stake here.

“Hi. I was just wondering why you won’t kiss Rich. I mean, why not? he’s a nice guy and he freakin’ adores you. My ears were almost bleeding this morning from him saying your name the whole time. So whats the deal?” Rob had ordered another beer for himself and took a seat on one of the bar stools, you following and taking the one next to him. You took a sip of your fourth beer, feeling the results almost instantly. The only problem to alcohol that you found, was how much it brought out the truth.

“To tell you the truth, Rob. I don’t like to be mocked.” You replied in confidence. Rob furrowed his brows, obviously confused by your response.

“What do you mean mocked?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“You know what I mean. Teasing me, grabbing me. Embarassing me in front of all of my friends by laying on top of me and pretending he likes me.” Admittedly your voice had cracked slightly in your rant. You didn’t sound half as confident as you’d have liked. Rob noticed that you had genuinly been upset about all of it.

“Y/N……Rich is……not teasing you. He’s not pretending he likes you. He really does. Trust me I’m his best friend. I knew he liked you before he admitted it…”

Rob took a moment to look back at your group of friends at the table, Rich was sat joking about with Kim. “…If you don’t like him in that way I think you should simply tell him. It’d stop him getting more hurt.” Rob was talking as if you had been leading his best friend off, which was insulting and 100% bullshit.

“Rob, I’m not leading him on. I-I don’t…Guys back home don’t like me. You know, I’m the bottom of the scrap pile of girls to choose from. And I’m certainly not Richard’s type. I’m not good enough for him, I’m not pretty enough for him. I mean he’s just…..he’s Richard! If I were to stare into his eyes for too long I would drown…. If I were to listen to him speak for a moment longer than I should, I’d explode……he’s the most beautiful, talented and funny guy I’ve ever met. I don’t want to give in and let him kiss me as much as I want to kiss him myself. I love him. I’m just trying to protect myself for once in my life. Can you understand that?”

Alcohol definitely was a horrific idea for tonight. Rob was sat there taking in everything you’d just said. You expected him to be angry at you, or to walk off. But he didn’t. He sat there and watched you for a little while. His eyes felt like they were scrutinizing everything you were doing. You turned to your side, facing the bar and polishing off your beer. You waved your hand to the waiter, asking for another.

The silence between you and Rob was terrifying you, building up your nerves to the top of your throat. Unless it was vomit from everything you’ve drank. You hoped it was the nerves. You heard the faintest of giggles from Rob and you had no idea what he found so funny.

“What?” You asked, a little annoyed by his cheery mood. Why couldn’t everybody be grumpy like you?

“Nothing….” Rob answered with a smirk. He then grabbed his glass of beer and left you alone at the bar. At least, you thought you were alone. You were completly unaware that there had been somebody else sat on your other side for a good few minutes. You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, but not as gentle as before. You turned slowly so’s not to give your growing headache any problems. Your eyes stared straight into the eyes of Richard. He has the softest of smiles traced on his lips as he stared at you. Your heart began to thud louder and louder to the point you could almost hear it. You sincerely hoped he couldn’t.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” He asked, his voice quiet and soft. At that moment your heart went ballistic. The sudden realization that Richard had heard everything you said about him washed over you like a high wave. You started to panic. You wanted to run straight out the bar, but you knew with the amount you had drank tonight that you wouldn’t be able to get far. And even if you did, Richard would be right there at home waiting for you. You began to stammer.

“I-uh…I need to…..I need to go to the bathroom” A lousy excuse, yes. But it was all you could muster right now.

“I don’t think so.” Richard responded, grabbing your right arm with his hand. He held you there gently, not hurting your arm or forcing you to stay there. But it was warning that if you tried to leave he would pull you back down.

“You’re always running, you never stop.” You looked down at your feet. You were to nervous to look him in the eyes. You’d just outright told him that you love him and boy were you gonna pay.

You felt gentle fingers touch your chin, pushing your face up a little, pointing your gaze back to his.

“It’s time to stop running.” The words echoed from his lips as if they were being said in a dream, or a fantasy of yours. Only this time it was real. He was really holding your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks gently with his thumb. He leaned forward, giving you one last gaze, before he closed his eyes and placed his lips against your own.

Everything stopped.

There was no music, no voices shouted in the background.

You could no longer feel the seat you were sat on.

No smell of beer in the air.

Only him.

He was intoxicating. The smell of leather, aftershave and…him.

All you could hear was his shallow breath, struggling to get enough air in his lungs. And then there was the feel of his lips. He wasn’t aggressive. He wasn’t rough.

The feel of his soft lips brushing over yours as he continued to kiss you both tenderly and gingerly at the same time. One of his hands had moved down into your lap and he interlaced his fingers with yours. You could literally feel yourself falling in love with him, then and there. You had finally let go.

His lips began to come away from yours as he finished the kiss. It was almost like the world had been paused, just for you to have that tiny moment. The music continued to boom around the bar and hustle and bustle of your friends and other people was no longer gone.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, staring back at Richard in silence. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to say. But Richard did.

“Let’s go home…” The way he had said it made you feel like you really belonged with him, so you followed him, and you went home.  


Pairings: Dean x Reader
Words: 1,191
Warnings: Angst, violence
Summary: Dean is going through a breakdown, but reader is there to keep him sane 
A/N: I missed writing so badly, that I decided to take a break from studying and there we go: short story or should I say, a reimagination based on Brother’s Keeper. This scene is so powerful and makes my heart weak, so I decided to work on it and properly write it down. New chapters of the stories are coming when I’m finished with my finals. Hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is a priceless! 

Originally posted by acklesjensen

It was one of those days. The Mark of Cain was manifesting its presence in most terrible ways; toying with Dean’s emotions, thoughts and beliefs. Picking on his weak and doubtful self esteem.

He was standing in front of the sink, washing his hands, not really knowing why. They weren’t dirty, but they certainly felt this way, the weight of lives they took away was almost unbearable. The water was way too hot, a burning sensation on his skin. But he didn’t seem to be bothered at all. The high temperature, along with the noise of the running water served as a perfect distraction. Or at least the best one he could count on in that moment.
The memories were hidden in the dark corner of his mind, swept away by his coping mechanism, but threatening to surface without a warning at any time. He wouldn’t endure it. Those images, premonitions that were constantly haunting his dreams, became too much for him to handle. It was getting worse with every passing hour. Dean didn’t want to think about tomorrow, afraid what it may bring into his miserable existence. 

Then he made a mistake. He looked up in the mirror and met his own gaze. His emerald eyes, ever so livid and hopeful, were now hollow, lifeless and bloodshot. As if someone took his soul from him, dragging it out through his iris, making the colour fade away. One glance at this man could suggest that he’d lost his will to fight long time ago. And maybe it wasn’t so far from becoming true. 

Keep reading

The more I read and learn about abuse the more I have these weird revelation moments in which I remember things from the past and recognize them as abuse for the first time, events and behaviors I used to make excuses for.

It’s always a mix of emotions when it happens. There’s the “aha!” aspect of course, which is intellectually rewarding. It feels good to better understand something that happened. And there’s hurt too. But there’s also terrible frustration because it’s just like “AUGH! I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT FUCKER DID THAT!” 

One thing I recently had to add to that list was diet sabotage. The realization came to me after reading about how abuser’s will sabotage victims who have a substance abuse problem, such as alcoholism. They’ll do things like bring home a six pack, even if they don’t drink, and say they want to have it on hand just in case their buddies come over (but somehow it’ll never get offered to said buddies). 

Now, I’ve never had a substance problem. But I spent much of my marriage on a diet, trying to lose weight (even when I was a healthy weight and in great cardiovascular shape). 

During those periods when I was trying to shed weight my ex would bring home a box of treats, make a point to tell me he had bought them for himself and I shouldn’t eat them, and place them in the kitchen. Then, after spending all day, or multiple days, resisting constant temptation I’d inevitably break down and have a treat. And not only would he sit back and allow me to feel terrible about it for breaking my diet, he’d pile on to my shame by making me feel bad for eating “his” food (food purchased with our joint grocery budget). I used to feel like such a gluttonous, selfish, loser

But wait a minute.

If they were really for him and him alone, why bring them home? Why not keep them in his locker at work/school? 

If they really were for him and if he really wanted them at home, why keep them in the kitchen? Why not hide them? Why make a big show of telling me about them at all?

And if they were really for him, why did it so often take ages for him to eat them? He wasn’t exactly the type to refrain from indulging in what he wanted. When it came to pot he’d get high multiple times a week. When it came to drinks he’d have so many I’d have to drive us home. When it came to porn he’d hardly go a day or two without watching. So why would he buy treats “for himself” and leave them forgotten for so long?

And why did it seem like he so seldom brought home the same treats when I wasn’t trying to lose weight?

Now I think I know why.

And it wasn’t just buying junk food when I was on a diet. When I wanted to be vegetarian it seemed like he’d purposely bring home the most tempting meat he could. We’d decide to have burgers for dinner. He’d had beef and I’d have a veggie patty. But then, even when we were super broke, he’d buy bacon as a topping. Bacon is fucking delicious. And it smells just as good as it tastes. So sometimes I’d cave, and he’d put bacon on my veggie burger. 

Now, I might be willing to make the case that he simply wanted bacon for his own burger and it was just my own weak will that sabotaged my efforts to be vegetarian. I’d even be willing to say (and in fact, used to make this very excuse for him myself) that maybe he was being a little unsupportive and selfish but who can blame a guy for wanting bacon? Except that not only was he incredibly unsupportive of my efforts to eat a vegetarian diet (regularly voicing his contempt for the very philosophy) but he also used these episodes to embarrass me in front of others. He’d broadcast my failure to stick perfectly to my vegetarian goal for laughs.

That’s something a lot of abusers do, “playfully” ridicule their victim in the presence of company. It’s a brilliant way to take them down a peg, often by targeting a flaw or mistake they know their partner is already feeling poorly about. And by doing it in front of friends or neighbors, or such, they insulate themselves from their partner’s displeasure. If she objects, he can simply manipulate the situation so that she comes off as the humorless and perhaps even unstable banchee of a wife while he’s the charming comedian.

Not surprisingly, after a while I gave up on being vegetarian. It was just too difficult to make that change with an unsupportive partner and housemate (especially considering all the other stress I was under by virtue of being in an abusive marriage). For so long I’ve believed I was just inherently weak-willed. It wasn’t until re-evaluating these occurrences in a new light that it dawned on me that I was set up to fail. And, in fact, when I think about times in my life where I had to abstain from something or add a new habit but he wasn’t there to interfere, I often accomplished those goals.

So now begins the long, arduous process of retraining my brain not to doubt my ability to do hard things. In these diet sabotage examples and in so many other ways, my ex eroded any sense I had in my own capabilities. He made me believe I was weak, and helpless. I just need to remember that, like so many other times and in so many other matters, he lied.

random lily evans headcanons because i can

  • she was literally the human manifestation of that one post that’s like “you know those girls who always have really soft hair and a million old camp shirts and are like literal rays of sunshine” like that was lily evans she was comfort and home and brightness and love
  • she was that upperclassmen that all the underclassmen want to be friends with. like they all wanted to talk to her and have her help with homework
  • and the thing is that lily was so ridiculously nice to them and always helped them and literally everyone loved her
  • she also was really good at remembering people’s names?? she never forgot a name
  • she had a really bad chocolate addiction and would have chocolate eating parties with remus where they would justs sit on a bed and trade chocolates and eat them till their stomachs hurt.
  • queen of soft sweaters
  • like she had sooo many soft sweaters
  • all in really neutral, pretty colors
  • mostly cable-knit
  • many were her dad’s
  • and then she started stealing james’ but like he didn’t mind because “look, sirius, look lily’s wearing my sweater”
  • so confident in her abilities like you couldn’t shatter her self esteem because she knew her own worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less
  • drank like seven bottles of water a day and was always ridiculously hydrated because when she was little she’d read an article about dehydration and it scared the shit out of her
  • didn’t curse often, but when she did it was “motherfucking fuck cock sucker shit ass damn fucking bloody fuck hell” and nothing less
  • because go big or go home
  • james thought it was literally the most hilarious thing in the world
  • had bomb ass legs
  • idk why but she just did don’t fight me on this
  • made literally the best cup of peppermint tea in the whole world like somehow her peppermint tea just always tasted better
  • was the go to person to cry with honestly like she’d listen to your problems and then cry with you and make you feel better and feed you chocolate and tea
  • had the worst temper if you for real pissed her off or if you were james potter in 1st-6th years because something about him just set her off
  • he later informed her that this was all the unresolved sexual tension
  • she playfully slapped him
  • because it wasn’t true
  • but also was a little bit true
  • definitely wanted to live in a library from ages 3-9 and sort of maybe wouldn’t have been opposed to it if you’d suggested it to her when she was like twenty
  • because libraries just had this smell that she really loved and also imagine sleeping surrounded by books like how wonderful
  • so ridiculously motivated and driven like when she wanted to do something she got shit done
  • hated bananas with everything in her because the smell made her want to gag
  • which led to sirius eating many a banana around her because he thought it was funny
  • and james was torn between laughing and glaring
  • speaking of sirius, they were like bffs forever
  • i mean he was basically her second husband
  • would never have admitted it in 6th/7th year but literally she died inside a little from happiness when james called her “love”
  • like before they were even dating if he ever called her that it made her want to jump his bones
  • which marlene could totally see
  • and so she got teased about it literally 24/7
  • had a nasty jealous streak and tried not to show it but really did helen have to stick her tongue down james’ throat in the middle of the common room?
  • she might have accidentally said that out loud
  • sirius thought it was probably the best thing that had happened all month
  • blushed at everything, tbh
  • like at the most awkward moments
  • james found it ridiculously endearing
  • liked to put on james’ glasses and then comment on just how bad his eyesight must be just to annoy him
  • literally slughorn was so accurate when he called her “vivacious” like this girl was so full of life
  • liked to collect flowers and press them between the pages of books but then she’d forget they were there and would be reading a story and come across a random iris in between the pages
  • brought her muggle record player with her to hogwarts even though she knew it wouldn’t work
  • because she liked the #aesthetic
  • tbh could hold her liquor and was really really good at drinking games
  • would have been a beer pong champion
  • ridiculously competitive, especially when she was competing against james
  • was that person who, when she won, would literally do a victory dance right then and there and would not let anyone ruin her celebration
  • her victory dance was awful tbh because lily couldn’t dance for shit
  • would have lived in bell bottoms if she could have
  • really really good at roller skating but really fucking awful at quidditch
  • loved pda
  • like she loved holding james’ hand or when his arms were around her while they walked down the hall or when he kissed her on the cheek or on the forehead before they went into class
  • wanted like seven kids because she loved children so much and so did james and they would have been the best parents honestly
  • when she got to heaven god was probably like “what the hell are you even real no way a single human being can be this pure and good”
the best part about being a monster is not caring what happens to myself

Summary: In which Phil has synesthesia - an ability to “see” sounds and “smell” colours. However Dan has a secret, which is an eating disorder.
Genre: fluff & angst
Word count: 6.7k
TWs: swearing, vomiting, eating disorder
A/N: Huge shout out to @ohmygoyouguys​ !!! This fic wouldn’t exist if it was’t for her!

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IMAGINE: The Avengers cheering you up during a hard time.

Warning: Low-selfesteem, insecurities?

AN: I dedicate this to myself since I’ve been feeling down lately, but I hope you still enjoy it!

The world didn’t seem to be smiling at you. You had been feeling down: you had a lot of work to do, your collage teacher was an ass to you, and time didn’t run in your favour. You thought that after that horrible week, you’d start the next one stronger. And you were wrong. Your work duplicated, and your self-esteem was now underground thanks to your teacher. That lovely 40 year old man, with an uncomfortable look coming from his eyes and a creepy smile, would take any opportunity to make a dumb joke about your looks, or make fun of your grades.

The Avengers, who were like a family to you, started to noticed about your humor change. They realized how you’d wake up a bit more early, without the need of that, with an emotionless face that basically said ‘I haven’t slept anything’. And your hands would shake a bit meanwhile you put your books in your bag. When coming back to the Stark Tower, you wouldn’t have lunch with them, not even in company. You’d lock yourself in your room, and do all of your work while eating a simple meal. You’d come out three hours later, just to go towards the lab for a couple of hours. Then, getting dressed in your sport clothes, you’d head yourself to the training room, which one was empty at that time of the day. No one would see how hard you punished yourself training inside, but some members of the team would stare awkwardly at you while you’d walk to your room again two hours later, covered in sweat. You would just walk outside to get your dinner, not more than a salad or a sandwich, and you wouldn’t be seen until the next day. Without talking to any of them, without a stop to take a breath, to relax. This wasn’t  you. There was something going on. And they were going to solve it.

It was finally Saturday again, and you could sleep until late without being disturbed. After you got up, you walked into the kitchen, just in a simple grey t-shirt and a pair of black leggings. Bruce was still having breakfast, and he smiled at you once you started to pour some coffe in your mug. It was nice to see someone give you a honest smile after two stressing weeks.

-How are your classes going? - he asked, after exchanging lazy 'Good Mornings’. You froze for a second, you couldn’t really tell him that it was going okay. Cause it wasn’t.

-Uhm, good. Lots of tests and readings and essays… you know, collage stuff. - you answered, apparently not sounding convincing enough.

-But are you doing okay, y/n? You seem a litte… distant lately. - But you looked away, just slightly nodding your head before finishing your coffe, and getting dressed for training.

One you arrived to the room, some of the team members were already there, exercising or practicing on their skills.  You dropped your bad, ready to do some fighting positions. After what seemed like 30 minutes,  someone came up to you. It was Bucky.

-Hey y/n.-he said in a low voice. You turned to look at him, and he had a worried look on his face, even though he was good at hiding it.

-Buck.-you answered, giving him a slight smile which he returned.

-Uhm, do you wanna… talk about anything?-he asked awkwardly, positioning himself in front of you, and joining you in your practice.

-Nothing in particular.-you said giggling.

-And… are you okay?.-he suddenly asked, his face almost touching yours, after stopping one of your punches easily. You started to get suspicious.

-I’m fine, Buck. - you said, with a confused look. - Are you?

-No, I’m worried about you.-he whispered, with a little blush creeping on his cheeks. You had to look away, his presence was now making you nervous.

-Hey guys! -you heard a voice behind Bucky, Captain America’s face appearing.

-Hey Cap.- you greeted, separating yourself from Bucky.

-Cap.-Bucky said with a movement of head.

-y/n, you’re training with us? -Steve asked. You were going to say yes, but you needed to be alone. You really didn’t want to train with two perfectly fit boys in some leggings and a top. You instantly thought that it didn’t look good enough on you.

-Uhm, I think I’m gonna go for a run outside. -you smiled at them, and quickly got your stuff and your bag, coverng your body with it while you left the room and leaving Bucky and Steve confused. They were starting to understand what was your problem.


After you ran around the city, you went back to the Stark tower. You wanted to let your mind travel far away, and do not let your worries bother you for a moment. But it happened to be almost impossible, as if some had been in your head all the time.

And, when you were greeted by a worried Wanda, you understood. That little witch had been reading your mind for some reason.

-I’m sorry…-she said, still worried, after reading your mind again.

-Just…why? Why did you read my mind? -you asked her- You never do that.

-Natasha had told me a few days ago how something was bothering you. Her and Clint were the first ones to notice. You had been distant lately, locking yourself in your room and barely ea…

-Stop.-you finally said. Many bad thoughts about yourself were now going through your mind, blaming yourself for being this dramatic, and making the team lose their time trying to figure out your problems, for being a bother, for being insecure. It was enough to make Wanda feel dizzy, and looked at you as if you were going to dissapear at any moment.

-I… I need a break.-you said, your voice sounded weak. You ran towards your room, passing Clint and Thor, who were sitting comfortable on the living room sofa.

You walked straight into your shower, forgetting about everything. You needed to relax.


There was no need to wear fancy clothes in the lab, so you dressed yourself with some black jeans, a basic pale t-shirt and a jean flannel, and took a bit of food with you so you could have dinner while working on your project. The laboratory was surprisingly empty, so you took as much space as possible, and started reading your science book, writing down the most important facts. Once you finished your meal, you got many different substances, and got ready to work. It took you a lot of time and concentration to make you were mixing the correct substances, and proving the different results.

After an hour or so, the smell of the different substances floating on the air started to make you feel sick. Your vision blurried just at the point when you were pouring a green liquid into a red one, and some drops slipped out of the glass container, and you quickly reacted.

-Shit.- you said. Dropping everything in the metal table, you ran fast towards the sink, opening the tap. You let the cold water hit your skin, and the pain slowly went away. You looked at your hand, and saw the little white burning scar that probably would stay in there for a long long time.

Someone opened the door, and you saw Tony coming in. He looked worried.

-Hey y/n, I need you for a minute…-he said, his eyes traveling through the room, and stopping at the weird mixting.

-Sure. -You said, walking behind him through the hallways and leaving the mess you caused.

He guided you to the common room, where all of the Avengers were gatehered.

-What in the world is go…

-Would you let us speak? -Tony said in a soft voice. You nodded, feeling completely unarmed while everyone was looking at you, standing right in front of them.

-We have noticed your behavior lately, y/n. We are worried. -Steve said.-You can count on us.

-We are family.-Clint said, making everyone nod.

-No matter what’s the bother to you, we’ll help you with everything. You need to know that.-Natasha spoke. She barely expressed any emotion with anyone, yet she had taken care of you as a sister, and you were highly grateful.

-Lady y/n, there’s no one better to help you than us, I’m sure. -Thor smiled.

-We want you to tell us by yourself.-Tony said, with a sympathetic look.

And you did. You told them everything. You told them your insecurities. Your fears. You told them about your teacher, about your low self-esteem, about everything. You breathed heavy and felt your chest up and down, after you were done with your speech. Your head was pounding, you had talked really fast, hoping everything would solve as quickly as possible.

-Hun, you are…perfect. You, you y/n. You don’t need to change anything. Not about your body or your mind. We all love you the way you are. -Bucky was the first one to speak.

-Oh love, you really are wrong. If you could see yourself from our point of view… -Clint continued.

-I just need your techer’s adress and two hours. You’ll never see that fucker again. -Nat interrumped. You smiled, it was impossible not to when you were with her. Her face softened when she heard your laugh.- Everything’s gonna be okay.

-I second Nat’s propose. Even though I could get him fired of his job in less that 2 hours.-Tony said, dropping his arm around your shoulders, not leaving your side as a protective father.

-y/n, you need to understand how important you are to this team. As an agent, as a person, as everything. -Steve said.- We got your back.

-We won’t let you fall. Not again. -you heard Wanda’s voice in your head, and you smiled. You were so grateful.

-¡Group hug!-Tony said, and everyone quickly ran up to you, forming a big ball of human bodies laughing.

-So,¿are we going out tonight?-you heard Clint’s voice from somewhere in the hug.

-¡Mcdonalds! -Wanda said.

-¡Stark’s paying! -Bruce voice said. You coudln’t help but laugh. Moments like this made you happy.

I’m tired of explaining cultural appropriation to people.
Personally for me I don’t give a single fuck what ignorant white people wear or pay extra money for. Those are ignorant individuals that we can’t change until the bigger picture is changed
Like cultural appropriation is deeper than “becky has braids now.” Cultural appropriation is “Becky has braids now and is being praised for it and being told she’s the next big thing in fashion even though IVE been wearing braids since I was BORN, but I and other black girls get picked on for it and asked how often we wash our hair and called disgusting. It’s a part of my culture and it’s a PRETTY BIG THING. It’s something that when I see other black girls it makes me feel like I belong. But Becky is taking this attention and taking credit for my culture.”
Cultural appropriation is that Urban Outfitters won a lawsuit against the Navajo Nation because “Navajo is just a general term,” even though it’s NOT a general term. T is very specific to Navajo people and Urban Outfitters is profiting off of the marginalization of native Americans.
It’s how when black girls wear Bantu knots it “ghetto” but put them on a white girl and call them “twisted mini-buns” it’s couture.
It’s how white people will get their hands on something, turn it into something it’s not, and drive the price up or ruin the meaning for everyone else. Little black girls are getting their hair called “boxer braids” and having to explain that no, we were not inspired by Kim Kardashian and corn rows and Ghana braids existed long before Kim k was thought of.
It’s about how we are told we aren’t good enough, forced to conform out of fear of being taunted and marginalized. Using chemical hair straighteners and skin bleach all while white women are getting braids and tanning to look like us because our trends are only cool when they’re on a white body.
Anyone who says people who care about cultural appropriation are just whiny literally doesn’t know ANYTHING about having their culture ripped from them and profited off of all while STILL being told you’re ugly for the SAME things that white women are being praised for. It fucking sucks. It’s awful and it’s scary and it SHATTERS self esteem. We have all these depressed black girls who hate themselves because they can’t look like Brittany from down the street all while Brittany is paying out the ass for a pair of hoop earrings and a Kylie Jenner lip kit and being praised for the fashion that apparently white people came up with when it was birthed from the culture of our people.
White girls wear bindi and henna and then turn around and laugh about how south Asians’ food smells funny or laugh about the amount of body hair someone has in connection to their race. But suddenly, when you were just calling these people monkeys and animals last year, bindis are SOOOOO in this year.
This isn’t a stupid conversation. This is something so fucking real and I’m just tired of it being brushed off as “lol everyone hates white people why do you care what people wear”
Because I really REALLY don’t. But when YOU wear it and it becomes the next best thing and *MY PEOPLE* have been wearing t for years and got called dirty or uncivilized or ghetto for it, then yeah, I have a god damn problem.

fem!prucan- roommates

“Thanks for answering my ad so fast,” Madeline said, smiling in relief. “Finding someone on such short notice is hard.” 

That was what she said, but in her brain, she was having a minor meltdown. This girl was stone cold gorgeous and her top revealed her flat pale stomach. Her hair was white and her eyes were bright. 

She was perfect, and Madeline was too gay for this shit. 

“Yeah! I mean, my roomie wants to move out soon so I was about to be looking for someone myself… and frankly your apartment looks nicer. If this works out I can just come to you!” 

“You said your name is Julia?” 

“Yep! But you can call me anything you like, really. Can I call you Maddie? It’s cute~ It suits you!” 

Julia threw her arm over her shoulder. “How’s that sound?” 


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Is That a Fire in Your Kitchen? (Or Are You Happy to See Me?)

I wrote this for Halffizzbin, who prompted: “Had to knock on Hot Sweetheart Neighbor’s door to come help me disable the smoke detector. Hot Sweetheart Neighbor bore witness to my gross post-work bandana hair, my too-depressed-to-clean trash piles, and the big lime-green vibrator on the nightstand. QUICK SOMEBODY FIC IT SO I DON’T FEEL SO SAD ANYMORE”

Hope this cheers you up!

Another bang and shuffle combo racked through Stiles’ apartment and he put his book down with a huff. He never really had any problems with his neighbor before - excluding having to physically restrain himself from climbing him like a tree - so the noises, despite being annoying, worried Stiles a little.

Derek was never a party-goer or party-haver; he kept to himself, unfortunately enough. He didn’t even bother Stiles even when he knew he was being unnecessarily loud - which was why Stiles was trying to be content with the occasional thumps and scratching of chairs.

There was a moment of blessed silence and Stiles returned to his book, only to be interrupted by three heavy thumps against his door. Stiles put the book down, admitting to himself that the chapter was just not going to be read tonight, and went to the door.

When he looked through the peephole, a shock went through Stiles’ chest when he saw Derek on the other side, disgruntled scowl on that damn handsome face and gloriously tight tee that left little to the imagination.

Stiles pulled the door open, greeting Derek with a simple, “What’s up?”

Derek’s mouth pulled into thin line, clearly uncomfortable standing before Stiles, which thanks very much for that self esteem boost. Stiles took the silence as an opportunity to check Derek out (he wished he could be more sorry about it); as his eyes roved up Derek’s (incredible, bulky, mouth-watering) form, he saw - no, that couldn’t be -

“Is that a Tasmanian Devil watch?” Stiles blurted. It looked like he had interrupted Derek mid-speech, the way Derek snapped his mouth shut and glared at Stiles. But this was /important/ and besides, Stiles’ fear of glares had decreased dramatically since meeting Derek (and his libido in response to them peaked, funnily enough) (no, there was no connection between the two, and Stiles would deny that with his dying breath).

“That - yes, but it was just a gag joke.” Derek looked too distressed to permit Stiles poking more fun at the watch, but in the future, Stiles knew he had to get the story out of him. In any way he could.

“What can I do you for?” Stiles asked. Derek’s face contorted and Stiles realized just how awful that sounded.

“I’m sorry, that always worked in TV shows, it sounds so cocky and cool when other people said it. I literally never thought that it could sound so rude, like dude, obviously you’re not a prostitute.” At Derek’s eyebrows furrowing deeper, Stiles continued, “Not that you couldn’t, you do you, and I’m sure you’d do well, just totally fine in that job.” Stiles was very close to slamming the door on his head repeatedly.

“Fire,” Derek blurted. Stiles blinked.

“I … I don’t … ?” Stiles said when Derek said nothing.

“I - my dinner caught on fire and I’m not … .” A noise died in the back of Derek’s throat before he said, “I just need help. With my fire alarm? It just won’t cut out.”

“Oh, dude, was that all that noise I heard?” Derek’s baleful expression revealed to Stiles that yes, that noise did play a part in Derek’s plight. “Okay, gotcha. Is the fire out?” Derek nodded. “Awesome, cool. Let’s roll.”

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anonymous asked:

Fic prompt: someone is cruel to Foggy, and Matt cuddles with him and reassures him that he's precious and loved.

Matt was three blocks away from home when he heard Foggy’s voice rising in distress. He started walking faster, alarmed, but as he drew closer and didn’t pick up any other voices, he realized Foggy was on the phone. Upset, then, but not in danger.

“…done perfectly well for myself,” Foggy snapped as Matt got close enough to make out words. “Just because it’s not the kind of life you chose doesn’t mean it’s a bad one.”

Oh. That tone - that argument - meant only one person.

“Because I don’t abandon the people I care about!” Foggy said. “But that must’ve been something I got from Dad. Or am I just forgetting you showing up all those weekends you had custody when I was a kid?”

Matt winced as he let himself into the front door of their building. If Foggy was going for the jugular like that, Rosalind - his biological mother, who’d walked out on Foggy and his father before Foggy’s first birthday - must have said something really out of line. Usually Foggy tried to make nice.

(Unfortunately, he made Matt make nice too, when Matt would’ve been only too happy to verbally eviscerate Rosalind, given the chance.)

It was harder for him to hear people on the other end of a phone call, but when he concentrated, he was able to pick up Rosalind’s voice. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Franklin. That was years ago, and I was busy. You know that.” She ignored Foggy’s bitter laugh. “Anyway, I think it’s rather hypocritical of you to be so offended when I’m offering you a spot at my firm. What would you rather have? A handful of Sundays in Central Park, or a partnership?”

“I have a partnership,” Foggy retorted. “And a firm.”

“Franklin. Sweetheart.” Matt could practically hear Foggy bristle at that. “An office with your boyfriend where you get paid in casseroles is hardly a firm. Why on earth you left Hogarth, Chao, and Benowitz I’ll never know.”

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today we’re gonna talk about this bullshit. do you see the ignorance that i put on the board today, class? look at this and tell me what you see. do you see anything logical about this? 

i’ll tell you what i see- i see this ignorant, sad, pathetic piece of shit who has nothing better to do with their lives but to lay on their ass and Yak about how they hate a certain trait about black girls. i’m not even going to assume what race or gender said this, because that honestly doesn’t matter.

now let me educate ya’ll on something- 

  • a black girl wearing weaves/extensions does not mean she’s bald
  • a black girl wearing weaves/extensions does not mean she’s bald
  • a black girl wearing weaves/extensions does not mean she’s bald

what it DOES mean is that she wants to fucking use something that she likes therefore she’s gonna fucking wear it. she wants to buy different colored acrylics? fine. she wants to rock two bundles of 22-inch wavy Brazilian hair? let her. she wants to spend $20 on a coral blue #5 matte lip gloss from MAC? alright. what the hell is so difficult about that. why is it always so difficult for black women to do whatever they want with their body? (i’m not saying all women don’t have this problem- they do, and are constantly criticized for their decisions, i’m just constantly saying black girls because that is what this post is about)

it makes me sick to my stomach to see/hear that someone thinks that a black girl is automatically “”“ratchet/ghetto”“” for “wearing someone else’s hair”, and/or that she’s a “bald bitch” because “she can’t grow her own hair”. contrary to popular belief, but those who do wear weaves/extensions are in fact not bald. we have hair, each of us with hair of various different lengths. makin it seem like black girls’ hair can’t grow past their ears or something. don’t be fooled, y'all. don’t let the ignorance blind you.

and oh my god, let’s talk about the first and second comments. TF YOU SO CLOSE TO THEY HEADS FOR?? THEY MAKIN IT SOUND LIKE BLACK GIRL’S HAIR SMELL LIKE AN OVERFILLED DUMPSTER IN THE MIDDLE OF LOS ANGELES HEAT. i don’t know who told these dirty mother fuckers that you’re not supposed to wash weaves/dreadlocks but NEWS FLASH you’re supposed to wash all hair, no matter the style it is in. hair is hair is hair. and what the fuck was good with the unnecessary “with a N”? hm i wonder what they were trying to say?? a nymph??? maybe a naked mole rat??? but thats besides the point, that’ll be in another rant soon enough. talkin bout how his hair ‘amelles like rotten eggs’. please

it’s bad enough that there are young black girls out there ashamed of themselves because of the color of their skin, for being “too dark”, because they don’t look like the young white girls they see literally everywhere, or the young light skinned girls that guys favor. it’s like we as black women (i know i keep changing girls and women, but i’m too pissed about this to change it) cannot live to be ourselves. the fact that there are black girls out there wanting to bleach their skin, slowly becoming depressed, wanting to kill themselves (but apparently we can’t be depressed or suicidal???) because of bullshit like this, society constantly judging them for the way they look, pushing them to look a certain way- pushing them to look lighter, to favor a light skinned girl or a white girl, is fucking ridiculous

my thoughts are not forming out n the way i wanted them to but i do hope everyone understands where my anger is coming from. and if you don’t, listen: years and years of always wanting to be someone that i’m not, wishing to have a lighter complexion, dreaming of who i really wanted to me so the cute boys in my grade would talk to me or date me, years of hating who i was and where i came from because of what society pushed down on me. all this rage is coming from me being picked on (by friends, family, peers, and complete strangers) because of how loud my voice octave is, how big my lips are, how dark i am. me repairing my self esteem, becoming who i am today, comfortable in the skin i’m in, that’s all i wanted in life. i’m finally happy with myself, and the fact that i see little girls that resemble me as a child going through what i fucking went through makes me so mad. so do not tell me that i have no fucking right to be mad at something that doesn’t involve me- i have every fucking right to be pissed. don’t down my feelings because it doesn’t directly involve me.

ok im done. to whoever made this Yak and those comments, fuck you and everybody that live in yo house.