and he's more sure than ever that if anyone is gonna get the hell out of this town and make something of themselves

Biggest regret.

I’M SO CLOSE TO 1000 FOLLOWERS YOU GUYS I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH OMGOMGOMGOMG

Originally posted by kylogue


The Southside high is rough. Very rough if you don’t have friends from the beginning. That’s why I only hang out by myself and don’t talk to anyone. There is no such thing as a good snake and everybody here is a snake. Nobody can be trusted and sure can’t trust them with a secret.

I walked through the halls of Southside high with my head hung low. I didn’t wanna noticed by anyone. The popular kids, the nerds, the stoners all just walking in their groups and talking about irrelevant things. Their weekends, their friends and the party next Friday. Mondays are always the worst and not having friends on top of that is way worse.

I sat down in my usual seat in my math class. I hate math. I’m really bad at it and it’s just so boring. The gray walls that were in every classroom made me feel claustrophobic. The small tables never had enough room for all the books and all the papers we had to bring. The uncomfortable chairs that nobody could sit still on.

Class went by slowly. I sat in agony waiting for the bell to ring. The teacher was trying to calm down the students that just wouldn’t shut up. She kept telling them that they were missing important lessons that hey would need in the future but in reality, she didn’t teach us anything.

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2

All Is Beautiful - Part One

Summary:  Sam meets you in a diner and ends up saving you in more ways than one.

Rating: R

Pairings: Sam X Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, reference to sex. Part two will have explicit sexual content.

Trigger Warnings: There is a description of an attempted sexual assault written as a second person experience.

And yes, I borrowed the town of Castle Rock from Stephen King.

::

You’re working as a server at Tilly’s Diner when you meet Sam.

You never imagined, at thirty, you’d be a waitress in this shit-hole town. A useless college degree, and a couple of sick parents later, you ended up back in Castle Rock. Right where life spit you out.  You came back to help out your mom when you’re dad got sick and somewhere along the way you just stayed.

Eighteen-year-old you would be furious. Unable to believe that you’re waiting tables in your hometown like all the people you pitied when you were young. 

I can’t believe people stay here, you used to think. Who actually wants to live here. What a boring fucking shit place to spend your life.

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anonymous asked:

fallout 3 companions reacting to someone flirting with the LW and getting a bit too handsy? (can you add Gob? he's not really a companion, I wasn't sure if it was okay to ask )

(Totally ok anon!  )

Gob- It’s not uncommon to see someone getting close to 101, just as it isn’t uncommon to watch Nova lead someone upstairs and not come back down for an hour or so. Gob wrings a cloth around the rim of a glass and keeps his mouth shut at first. It isn’t any of his business after all. They’re polite at first, 101 rebuts them. They keep pressing, and Gob catches sight of their hand sliding up over 101’s hip and down their thigh, even as the Vaultie is trying to push them off, their tone growing more aggressive the longer the advance goes on. “H-Hey,” Gob stammers. They don’t even look up. “Hey!” he snaps a lot louder, louder than he’s probably ever yelled at a customer. It’s enough to make the entire bar fall into a hush. 101 shoves the greasy bastard off of them, Gob glaring daggers until they finally slink off. “Thanks,” 101 sighs. Gob mutters “Pricks do the same thing to Nova all the time” and pushes another beer their way. On the house.

Butch- He bristles the moment the drunk in Rivet City sloshes themselves into the seat next to them. Not only do they smell like they were just fished out of the lake, but he’s right in the middle of making his own move god damn it! He nurses his bottle of beer and pretends like he isn’t pissy, which fails because the infamous Butch DeLoria pout™  can be spotted a mile away, while they make friendly with the walking brewery. Only, the drunk gets a little too friendly. Out of corner of his eye, Butch sees the way they’re digging their fingers into Lone’s Tunnel Snakes jacket. He sneers, “The hell do you think you’re doing?” “Mind your own business, kid.” Like hell he was gonna do that. Not when his friend turns to him with a plea in their eyes. He wraps one arm around Lone’s head and grabs his bottle with the other, ensuring (with a forethought he usually isn’t capable of) that they don’t end up with glass in their eyes when he smashes his bottle over the creep’s head. He keeps his arm around their shoulders even after their unwanted friend hits the floor like a sack of flour, and there it stays until they both stumble out of the bar a few hours later.

Charon- The second he catches the “admirer” reach for 101, he seizes them by the wrist and bends their hand back until something creaks. They scramble out of their seat, tugging, but Charon just applies more pressure the more they squirm. “My employer is not. Interested.” His vice doesn’t soften, despite how loudly they beg for him to let them go. “You’re gonna break my fucking arm!” “No,” Charon corrects, “I’m going to fracture your meta-carpals and tear the tendon in your wrist. If you keep demanding their attention, then I’ll break your arm.” He only releases them at 101’s order and they run off with their hand clutched against their chest. He’s about to return to his spot standing against the wall behind 101 when they stop him and offer the now vacant seat. He takes it, because if nothing else, he won’t have to stand around watching idiots insult his employer with their ill intended flattery any longer.

Paladin Cross- Watching the child she once held in her arms flirt with a Brotherhood initiate is much more awkward than she would have imagined. She’s about to officially excuse herself (she hasn’t been a part of this conversation for awhile now) when Lone’s acerbic tone makes her stop. The initiate is groping into the hem of their pants when she looks back, even while Lone is beginning to push them away. Cross snatches them up by a fistful of their shirt and hauls them to their feet. “Initiate, that is not conduct befitting the Brotherhood of Steel.” She doesn’t growl or threaten, no, she lets her strength speak for her. She challenges the younger one with the steel glower in her eyes to try anything. They hastily agree how out of line they were and promise to never do something so idiotic again, before scattering like a cockroach. “Are you alright?” Lone nods slightly, looking smaller than usual. “You be sure to tell me if anyone comes near you like that again. Anyone.”

Clover- Her baby is so gorgeous, is it any wonder they get looks wherever they go? She’s usually giddy how much attention they get together, but then they start getting more… personal. She knows better than to express jealousy, yet somehow she thought they were the one woman type. They’ve always treated her so nice. She’s so sick of sharing her lovers. Crimson and Eulogy, now her gorgeous Vaultie and some pushy teenager. Pushy in a too literal sense. When they get too close, looking like they’re trying to force 101 into a nearby room, she grabs them by the shoulder. 101 doesn’t even have time to tell them “no” before Clover is sinking a switchblade into their jugular, tearing it out, burying it again. They collapse after five or six times, foaming bloody bubbles out of their mangled throat. “You ok, honey?” She clings to their frame, not caring that she smears blood all over both their clothes. She’s been through this kind of shit enough, she’s never going to let someone make her lover feel that way, she promises and kisses their cheek.

Sarge- He edges his way between 101 and their admirer. “Fraternization within the ranks will not be tolerated, soldier!” he barks. His buzzsaw whirls to life, inches from their nose. “What the hell, ya’ hunk a junk! I don’t know you!” The blade jabs forward a few centimeters quick enough they leap back. “So you’re a red sympathizer! Is that how it is, maggot?” He hovers after them a few steps when they pivot and take off in the other direction, shouting, “Run back to your commie friends, coward! You’re a disgrace to the service!”

Jericho- Not like it was an uncommon thing in the wastes. Jericho rarely got involved whenever some horny fuck started feeling up someone up in a bar- he wasn’t about to go looking for trouble over a guy trying to have a little fun. Hell, he’d be a hypocrite if he said he hadn’t had his way with the odd girl from a razed town. But 101 isn’t some nameless pretty face. He can’t pretend not to see the uncomfortable edge to their shoulders as they’re backed further and further into a corner, and if he did, he’d have to deal with the aftermath if things went too far. Too much of a hassle. The spindly little shitheel doesn’t even see the bullet until it plows through his skull and pops out of one of his eyes. By then it’s really too late to see anything, isn’t it? He hands 101 a napkin to wipe the blood off their face and shrugs off any tepid thanks.

Fawkes- He knows wrongful conduct when he sees it. Perhaps one of the only upsides of the strength and size he has now, dividing 101 and the scoundrel accosting them is as easy as swatting a fly. He slips one large hand between them both and pulls 101 behind him. “That is quite enough,” he says in a firm tone which hid some, but not all, of the anger he felt at such behavior, “I think I speak for my friend and I both when I say you are not wanted here.” There’s one more upside to being an eight foot tall freak; people certainly listen when you speak. He turns to 101 after they’ve gone, and walks a little closer on the trek back to the Megaton shack.

Dogmeat- He doesn’t like the looks of them the moment they step up to his master, but he’s a good boy and sits while they talk. At the first sign of a struggle, he doesn’t await a command, he snatches the inseam of their pants and bites down as hard as his powerful jaws allow. He gets double the usual amount of snack cakes at dinner later on.

mathismylanguage  asked:

sterek: "Could you repeat that?"

“Yeah, sure, I can do— wait, could you repeat that?”

Derek grits his teeth, looks anywhere but at Stiles. “I’m doing the charity auction for the department and I need you to bid on me.”

Stiles’ spoon falls from his mouth, leaving a trail of ice cream dripping down his chin. It’s irritatingly appealing. 

“Dude,” Stiles’ face breaks out into a huge grin, “Oh my god, seriously?!”

“Yes,” Derek scowls at the floor, “Your dad asked, and after everything… I work for him, now. I couldn’t say no.”

“That’s awesome! You’ll make a million bucks for the Memorial Foundation.” Stiles pauses, frowns, “Why do you need me to bid on you? I don’t have a million bucks, dude.”

“I’m not going to go for a million bucks, Christ, most people in town still think I’m terrifying.”

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Surprise, I’m Your Wife! (Part 4) (Dean x Reader)

Summary: The reader attempts to figure out how to rid herself of her and Dean’s predicament with aid from the witch that cursed them to be married. Whilst a new way is found, the reader begins to realize that she has developed feelings that may or may not be a result of the spell.

Word Count: 1738 words

Warnings: sexual tension, swearing, Dean being a gorgeous and wonderful man

A/N: I really want to know what you guys think! I would love for some help on how to end the next part, whether its a steamy ending or a fluffy one! If anyone has an idea on how to break the spell, please tell me! I would love to hear it! 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3


“You two truly complicate the way I do things,” Luna Melvin sighed as you approached her in the cafe that made your stomach twist and your cheeks redden into the closer of a beet. Closing her laptop, Luna gestured to the seat in front of her and you bit your lip to refrain from spewing a snarky response at her. 

“I cannot sleep with him,” you announced at taking your seat, wishing to skip pleasantries and threats and rush to the point. “I really, really can’t.”

“I told you, dear sweetie, that was the only way to end the spell-”

“No!” you abruptly cut her off, saying it louder than you expected. “I mean, there has got to be another way.” 

Luna leaned back against her chair and folded her arms, watching you silently for what seemed like forever and her piercing grey eyes unnerved you to a point that your hands began to slightly shake under the safety of your long sweater. “Consummation is the only romantic and passion filled way of ridding yourself of the spell, as I told you yesterday,” the witch finally said, her usual air of flair dissolving into a much more serious tone.

“To me, that sounds absurd and I realized that last night. It will only make things worse, won’t it?”

Luna Melvin pursed her lips and looked towards the couple behind you, tempting the curse word that was threatening to break loose. “I am not the bad guy, I hope you understand that,” she took a breath, “but it can worsen the spell in some instances and I hoped to see if consummation would be the solution this time around. You see, its for my new book and…well…I wanted to see if when one loves and the other doesn’t, how would that imbalance would affect the spell.”

“Let me take a wild guess, you use real people as examples that you observe to then write in your books?” The mere thought sent dozens of shivers down your spine; as an avid fan of her work, you were reading and basking the guilty enjoyment of what real people were forced into just so you as a fan could be entertained and giggling at their outcomes. What a very horrid thought that churned in your stomach and made you want to run away. “And I am not a puppet in your story?”

“I have lived so long and the first book became such a success because it was so real,” she said dejectedly, her eyes shining in a way that you thought she would cry at any given time. “I could not help myself, dear sweetie, and it was harmless. All the other books ended in happy endings and the people who I watched are very happy now.”

“It’s still not real and a relationship cannot be real if the basis of the attraction is by magical intervention, not a natural way and one person has love for the other, but the other person doesn’t see them in the same light. What would happen then?”

“Oh dear…should I even bear to imagine what occurred last night after the two of you darlings left my side?”

You shook your head, cheeks burning as if kissed by flames. “I would rather not.”


The ride back to the motel was unusually silent. Sam had taken over the wheel and for some unearthly reason, you and Dean ended up sitting achingly beside each other in the backseat of baby. You dared not even glance to look at any of the three men in the car, especially the man at your side who you tried painstakingly hard to sit as far from him as possible and your arm screeched at you as the window roller bit into your arm. Where this night would take you, you did not know. 

You were scared to be left alone with Dean and you were not entirely sure why; it could have been the sudden reveal by the witch and it could have been the possibility that Dean would want to go through with it to rid the both of you of the spell. You were a tough cookie and normally the idea of casual sex never bothered you and there had moments in your life where you partook in the act with handsome men you meant while in town on a hunt, and yet the idea of carrying forth this act simply to rid yourself of spell seemed so emotionless and mechanical. If there was anyone you knew that would do it in order to make things better and save a life, it was Dean. You would have done the same, but somehow it bothered you greatly and you hardly glanced at Sam or Castiel when you arrived at the motel and bid your good nights; your thoughts belonged somewhere else.

You had not noticed that Dean had followed you into the room, only realizing he was there when you heard a small cough as you began to remove your shirt. “Jesus!” you exclaimed, startled. “When the hell did you come in?”

Dean blushed and awkwardly cleared his throat, “Um…I thought it was clear I was behind you when I told Sammy I was gonna be a few minutes.”

You hadn’t heard him say anything, but then again you hardly heard Sam tell you goodnight before you disappeared into the room. You mind was definitely not on the earth plane after the visit to the witch. “I must have not been listening.”

“Yeah, I can imagine your head must be spinning after everything that’s happened today.” He gave you a little smile, a reassuring that made you feel a tad warm and you returned it.

Perhaps it would not be so bad so have just a few moments that would break the spell. Dean could be difficult at times and there was no doubt in your mind that he would go forth with the consummation just so that you could be free of the spell; he would do it for you in the end and that was how Dean was, always putting the interests of others (by others, you meant Sam, Cas and yourself) ahead of his and studying how he fidgeted with the pocket of his jeans and how his eyes wandered the room, he was here to offer to get it over with not because he desired you but because he would want you to not have the insignia on your hand or be dangerously tied to him. 

One thing the witch mentioned was that after the consummation, the actual marriage could not be broken so easy, but the negative feelings and the jealous rage of the spell would be cast away at love’s most intimate union. And yet, watching Dean as he played with the lining of his jeans pocket and those green eyes of his that wanted to look at anything but you, you realized that having that union would mean nothing if neither of you desired it; rather, if only one of you desired it and the other did it to get it over with. Whether your sudden feelings towards Dean were created because of the spell or the spell had only brought forth real feelings, having casual sex with him to end the side effects of the spell would hurt you more than you thought; it would be casual and nothing more, despite your history you always had an emotional level with the men you shared your bed with and with Dean, it would mean sharing too much and risking too much. He would be able to move on from it, but you, you were positive it would linger for a long while.

“I don’t think its a good idea, Dean,” you finally said, breaking the silence that apparently hung around you. 

“Look, Y/N, I don’t trust her either,” he stepped closure towards you until he was less than a foot away, “but it’ll end these bad things we’re feeling and we can go back to the way things were before the witch cursed us.” He was very near you and just knowing that you heart picked up its pace and your breath began to come in short and deep intakes. 

“It’s not that Dean,” oh, his eyes, “I just can’t do it. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, because its under the pressure of a witch, of course it won’t feel right.”

You shook your head and stepped away, turning your back to him so that you wouldn’t have to look at him. Despite you efforts, he took hold of your and spun you around, your eyes now aligned with his and your bodies ever so near each others and your lips almost grazing…


“So you have fallen for him?” Luna sipped her tea, interrupting your tale from the night before. 

“I admitted that I felt something other than platonic feelings, but I never said that I loved him.” 

“Usually people say that to deny their feelings to themselves,” she smirked and raised the teacup back to her lips, the movement very graceful. “But do tell me what happened after, it’ll be a best seller one day!”

“We…kissed and that is it.” You admitted easier than you thought and you were surprised when Luna sighed in disappointed. 

“Oh, how boring. Nothing frisky in the bedroom occur?”

“I literally just told you that I can’t sleep with him, if I told you that it means it didn’t happen.”

She waved her hand as if dismissing your words. “You could have always said to cover it up, you know? But gosh, you’re not willing to try and see how much of stallion he is on that bed?”

You shook your head furiously, “I just want to find a way to get out of this mess without anyone becoming a stallion or a lion or whatever.”

“I’m afraid, if that is the case, I cannot help you.” Luna began to zip up her bag and took one last sip of her tea.

“Fuck it, fine!” You grabbed her hand just as she began to stand from her chair. “Help me get out of this mess and I will make sure this book of my supposedly romance becomes a national and international bestseller with a movie trilogy behind it.”

Luna smiled brightly and took your hand, shaking it rapidly. “Now that, darling, if an offer I cannot resist.”

Sterek Thanksgiving

My submission for the Sterek Writers’ Network’s Thanksgiving event. Also on AO3

This takes place just post-season two, but it’s a slight AU in that Erica and Boyd weren’t captured by the Alpha pack and came back to Derek.

“You’re joking right now.” It’s not even a question, doesn’t remotely sound like a question, and Stiles falters in the entryway as Derek stares him down – dark brows and long lines of tension, not even attempting to hide the Alpha red flash in his eyes.

“Um… no?” And then, seeing Derek’s eyes skate off behind him, “Just me here.” As though he wouldn’t have been able to hear or smell Scott anyway.

Some of the tension eases out of Derek’s shoulders, but his jaw doesn’t come out of its stubborn set.

“So you’re playing messenger then?”

Stiles sighs, falling the rest of the way through the doorway.

“No, dude. I’m actually my own person. Sometimes I even think and talk and go visit people all on my own.”

His own eyes slip past Derek into the dim, ashen house. Derek, after a moment, huffs.

“Just me here.” He throws Stiles’ own words back at him easily, almost carelessly, but Stiles can see the tension behind them.

Derek’s betas have been acting shiftier than usual around school, constantly on edge since the whole Gerard incident. Since Boyd and Erica had been imprisoned by the Argents and gotten free – just barely decided to rejoin Derek’s pack instead of fleeing town altogether. It isn’t surprising they aren’t hanging around the Hale house in their free time. It sounds like none of them are speaking much these days. No one’s speaking much to anyone, honestly.

Jackson and Lydia have been isolating themselves ever since Jackson’s recovery, refusing to train with either Scott or Derek. Isaac is still Derek’s beta, but his forming friendship with Scott is causing an obvious strain on both ends. Allison isn’t talking to anyone except Lydia, even though she probably needs a friend right now more than anyone. She refuses to let Scott reach out to her, avoids Boyd and Erica’s gazes, and seems to think anything Stiles says is just him acting as a spy for Scott.

Which, sure, he is about half the time, but he’s also worried about the girl. She’d gone a little darkside for a while there, but Stiles honestly can’t blame her. She’d lost a lot in the past few months, had her world flipped upside down more than pretty much anyone.

And now here Derek is, acting like Stiles is a spy too. And this time he actually isn’t.

“You’re the one I’m looking for,” he shoots back after too long a pause, and sets his gaze back on Derek in time to catch the quick surprised dance his brows pull off. “I was thinking we should do dinner.”

And Derek’s brows are in motion again, a fast and furious, startled dance that carries on until Stiles replays his words and actually hears them.

And… crap, he’d just asked Derek Hale out, hadn’t he?

He might be on a mission to make amends here, but that definitely was not on the agenda.

“I… not… I didn’t mean like ‘we should do dinner.’ Just… look, everything sucks right now, you know? This whole great divide going on between you and Scott—“

“His fault,” Derek grits, and Stiles hates that he can’t one hundred percent disagree. He might be slightly mildly pissed at Scott, himself. Might slightly possibly get why Derek’s so tense about the whole ‘Scott’ subject in general… and that’s even more reason to get things smoothed out between them. Because whatever stupid secret master plans Scott decides to throw together when he’s playing super-wolf, there’s no way in hell Stiles can ever side with Derek against him.

So it would make his own internal compass a hell of a lot happier if Scott and Derek could just make up already. Then Stiles won’t take one look at Derek’s sad indignant face and feel the temptation to spit out something like—

“It was a dick move, ok? The whole Gerard thing, not warning you ahead of time, that was a dick move.”

Crap. Like that.

Derek’s defensive scowl startles right off his face, and he’s looking at Stiles suddenly like he’s not sure what to think of him. Like he’s never thought of Stiles as his own person who’s capable of disagreeing with Scott on anything until now. Stiles thinks maybe he should be insulted, or maybe he should just be pleased that he’s finally made an impression. Until Derek starts in with:

“It was. He was completely—“

And Stiles has to cut him off, hands flailing up. (They’d been doing so well.)

“No, shut up. Stop. He did what he thought was right and you don’t get to say otherwise, ok?”

Which seems to totally baffle Derek.

“But you just said—“

“That’s right, I said it.” Stiles spares a second to actually feel bad for Derek. Has the guy never had a best friend? Does he have any concept of the bro code? “I can say things like that. I’ve lived through ten years of friendship and backing Scott through sometimes terrible decisions for that privilege. But you say anything against him and I’m gonna have to punch you in your stupid Alpha wolf jaw and probably break my hand in the process, so can we just skip that inevitable pain and humiliation and just get to why I’m here?”

Derek’s still staring at Stiles like he’s this bizarre new species or something, eyes strangely off guard and puzzled. But he finally jerks his head in a slow nod.

“You’re here about… dinner.”

“Yeah.” Stiles licks his lips, stalling because under the weight of Derek’s gaze, the echo of his flash of anger against Scott, it suddenly seems like a supremely stupid idea. But he’s made it all the way here, the suggestion already hanging there, just waiting for elaboration, and… “Things are quiet right now, Derek. They could actually be, you know, peaceful for a little while if everyone would just stop avoiding and hating and generally being at each others’ throats. I don’t think anyone’s really happy with each other right now, except maybe Lydia and Jackson, and you know, just screw them and their whole true love miracle crap.” He pauses, waiting maybe for Derek to respond, snort, agree, whatever. But Derek’s lips have just thinned out, his eyes drifting to the ashen floor as his arms – his seriously impressive, by the way, arms, like what the hell, Peter was never this buff. Does Derek just spend his days scowling his way through grueling workouts? – crossed across his chest defensively.

So Stiles just draws in a slow breath and continues.

“I was thinking we could all do with some sort of reconciliation. Like a… breaking bread, mending fences, get to know you and burying totally metaphorical hatchets type dinner.”

Derek’s gaze drags up at that, and Stiles flashes him a fast grin, warming back up to his own idea.

“So what do you say to a big, no murders allowed, multi-pack Thanksgiving?”

It’s a good idea. An awesome idea. Why had he ever doubted the brilliance of this idea?

Derek blinks at him.

“You realize it’s May, don’t you?”

Stiles’ smile falls.

.-

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Okay so this started out as a fic Idea, but with the end of Stevenbomb 4, as well as the fact that I watched Space Race recently and It seems like there might be more foreshadowing in there than just introducing the barn…

This Theory is probably gonna be really long and I know there are things I’m most likely going to get wrong and totally miss and get completely off topic with, but anyway here we go…

Yellow Diamond really wants her Cluster and I’ll be damned if she didn’t tell Lemon Pearl to get her ship ready after Peridot hung up. (Or maybe she went Kylo Ren on the furniture first, then told her pearl to get the ship ready) Anyway She’s probably got a feeling that Peridot isn’t alone, that there might still be Crystal Gems left on earth.

And I mean she’s not wrong, but, knowing what Rose and her armies were capable of, She knows they’re probably going to make an attempt to stop the Cluster themselves, and Yellow probably feels that if you cant trust your subordinates to do something, do it yourself. 

And so She’s probably on her way to Earth right now.

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