and her red beanie

Taken

Writer - @damndescendants

Requested - nope. Send in request! All types relating to Descendants are allowed!

Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants

Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader

Summary – Harry Hook’s girlfriend, (Y/N) is kidnapped by someone on the Isle and Harry isn’t too pleased with it

Warning(s) - kidnapping, violence, swearing, fluff at the end

Originally posted by heather-l-wood

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9

I JUST said I was off the market, and this guy tries to cop a feel. He didn’t even try to buy me dinner first. Typical man. #SmartMonkey #SecondBase#CheekyLittleBastard#RoxyIsGonnaBeJealous#NoMoreMonkeyBusiness🙈🙉🙊

And I Thought You Might Be Mine

*click through to read on ao3

Written by: Nai | @hiddenpolkadots
Prompt: Tol: is that my shirt?
Smol, wearing a shirt that goes down to their knees: … no
words: 2500


Bellamy is aware that living with Clarke was going to come with some challenges.

(Or, as Octavia put it, rather excitedly, “It’s going to be a total fucking shitshow, and Raven and I have a bet going on who would commit murder first.”)

But despite their friends utmost certainty that things were going to crash and burn within the first week, they’ve been happily living together for the past six months, so he made sure to tell them to suck it after they hit the two week mark, because he’s a responsible adult.

That isn’t to say that it’s a walk in the park either. He and Clarke still argue about every little thing, but that’s just how they communicate. Now they just add arguing about domestic things such as whose turn it is to do the dishes, or why hasn’t he taken out the trash yet into the mix as well. He maybe likes it a bit too much, but no one needs to know about that.

He’s also become privy to a lot more of her quirks which- he likes to think that being friends, or at least acquaintances, with Clarke for over four years meant that he knew her fairly well, but once they move in, it becomes a whole other story.

For example, he learns that despite being left handed, she brushes her hair and teeth with her right, she always has to keep a full cup of water on her bedside table at night, and she needs more pillows than necessary to sleep.

Perhaps the most interesting quirk of hers is that she’s always stealing his clothes, all the fucking time.

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Colour Soulmate AU - Jughead X OC

[A/N: Finally I’m back! However not with the stuff you wanted or asked for, I am a terrible writer. This is a little rough around the edges but hey-ho! 

Okay so this is going to be an anthology series of different pairings (any and all pairings) finding their soulmates and I’m going to be using a multitude of different soulmate tropes! Starting with the soulmate AU, I apologise that this is really wordy but I had to get in all the different elements of what a soulmate consists of. I also plan on probably keeping each post as a one-shot which is maybe a little mean but I kind of like how I ended this one, let me know what you think! Also American readers please excuse my English-isms.]

Word Count: 1895


The sleepy town of Riverdale was illuminated with lights and colours, Pop’s Chok-Lit-Shoppe flashed a warm neon red, reflecting against the hoods of the cars that sat parked outside in the cold dark chill. The words Twilight Drive-In sat prettily against a dark blue backdrop held above the rusting letters ‘Closing Soon’, the abandoned sign creaked under the pressure of a strong wind that struck it heavily. The large Town Hall stood proudly painted in the freshest of lemon colours, the shadows of the night illuminated the deceitful corruption that lay hidden behind the closed doors.

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For me, the best part of this entire episode was not Captain Charming. 
It was not Killian and his silly grin of pride, showing his ring to Archie.
It was not Prince Charming and his best bro, doing grade 12 chemistry.
It was not Killian being so so nervous and adorable about his bro’s blessing.
It was not Charming’s complete acceptance and approval of Hook. 

It was in fact, my precious little blonde baby. My precious little blonde baby in her beanie and her pretty red coat, and her long blonde hair and her big, big SMILE. Emma Swan has literally been suffering and stressing for YEARS, and today she got to go canoeing with her son, get kissed so good by her pirate that she forgot the entire world, and got to curl up with malt ball soaked popcorn. She got to smile and giggle and have bright eyes and no worries. Emma Swan is the most precious specimen I have ever seen in my life, and seeing her happy today was literally everything I never knew I needed. 

Imagine spring time in Riverdale. Everyone is kind of in the spirit of it all. Aka they’re all wearing light colors and pastels. Except for Cheryl who is still wearing her usual red outfits and Jughead who is still donning his beanie and jacket. 

The two of them just kind of give each other a look when people tell them that they need to lighten up. Like, excuse you. Cheryl’s shirt is actually two shades lighter than her signature red, and Jughead has traded his jacket in (literally traded it in at a pawn shop) for a gray windbreaker. How much lighter do you want them to go? Rude.

anonymous asked:

Betty throwing herself into the river instead of Cheryl and Jughead saving her

 Im sorry if this is unacceptably long, I’m still new to this! I added more to the ending than I was asked, but I actually really loved this prompt and personally Im proud of this.

Suicide attempt warning. Au.

Betty didn’t attend school that week. She got rid of the ladder outside the window of her bedroom that lay in wait every night for Romeo to ascend. Betty turned off her phone, locked herself in her room and disconnected from everyone, even Jughead, and Polly. Her slick ponytail turned to a messy bun, she was letting her perfect down, and she liked it. No makeup, no care for clothes besides an S sweater that she stole from Jughead and a comfy pair of ripped jeans. Sitting in her too perfectly pink room, on her too perfectly pink bed she closed her eyes and dug her nails into the palms of her hands. The pain almost a relief for her but it wasn’t enough this time. Her mother had pushed her too far. Alice Cooper never shy of strict perfection on her tired daughter had gone way past her limit, Betty could not fight back.

“Oh, Elizabeth stop lying. You’re not depressed, my daughter could never be depressed. If you keep up that attitude I’m gonna kill you. You’ll end up just like Jason. Stop ruining my reputation, don’t you think you’ve done enough damage to the people of this town. You know, in my head I always wanted you to go like Cliff Blossom. It’d be easier for me, heck, it’d be easier for everyone. I don’t understand what your friends see that’s so special, poor Jughead. I know he’s not much himself but he doesn’t need an, even more so, lowlife like you making it worse” The conversation had started about going to a dance with Jughead. Betty insisted she wear red, but her mother did not agree. The innocent conversation between mother and daughter soon spiraled into a verbal beatdown on Betty Cooper.

Alice Cooper and her daughter Betty Cooper had gotten closer after Betty solved Jason’s murder with the help of her friends, also her mother coming clean about her unborn son had opened a new sentimental side of their relationship. But when Reggie, Trev, and Chuck had started false rumors about Betty getting pregnant with Jughead’s child just like Polly, Mama Cooper spiraled into madness yet again, constantly degrading, yelling, even hitting her daughter. Before Betty had shut him out, Jughead always found a new bruise or red mark whenever he would visit at night and she was in her pajamas. Betty hadn’t seen Jughead or any of her friends since last Saturday and it’s Monday now. She shut her curtains that Saturday, she knew Archie would try to snoop on her or talk to her. Whenever they would come by she’d stand in the other room to hear her mother tell them she wasn’t seeing anyone. They all thought she was mad at them. She slowly maneuvered from her bed, feeling the stiffness in her legs and back as she walked to her desk to grab her phone and two picture frames. One frame held a picture of Archie, Veronica, Jughead, and her sitting in a dinner at Pop’s drinking milkshakes and laughing… Pop Tate took that on the night of the Jubilee. And the other held a delicate picture of her and Jughead at the dance. She was in her pink dress, the one her and her mother argued about and Jughead was as handsome as ever in a classic black tux and bow tie with this crown beanie on. They were smiling as the slow danced together. She missed him. God, she missed him. She turned to the phone she plucked nonchalantly off her desk and turned it on. She let it sit for a while as all of her texts rushed in from the little group chat named “The Core Four”, they had sent her a total of 268 messages all asking to call or if they could come by, asking if she was mad at them, Ronnie and Archie sent her little paragraphs about their day to keep her updated. Of course, Ronnie kept her updated on the latest gossip and videos of the River Vixen routines.  They only thing Jughead would ever say was, “I love you, I miss you. Please talk to me.” He sent that about 5 times everyday. She knew he worried about her, as she did him.

She bit her lip in thought as she texted the group chat. A simple “I’m not mad at you guys, I love you guys.” she turned their group chat on do not disturb as the texts came rolling in and slipped her phone into her back pocket. She unlocked her door and popped her head out to look into the hall. Her parents were asleep, perfect. She padded downstairs to slip on her sneakers on and wrapped her arms around Jugheads sweater as she opened the door and the winter air of November was giving her chills already. Betty slammed the door shut, not caring to be quiet anymore… who really cared, right? She walked for miles without knowledge of where she was going until she came up to a clearing in the woods of a frozen pond. Sweet Water River. She took out her phone and texted Jughead, and only Jughead.

“I’m gonna go down in the same river we thought Jason did. Maybe they’ll care about me then” Betty dropped her phone in the snow and took a few steps before she heard Jughead’s ringtone. She turned on the spot and kneeled to answer it.

“What do you want Jug?” She was a bit irritated that he interrupted her train of thought.

“Betty?! What are you doing?! Where are you?! Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you!” He was frantic, almost on a verge of a panic attack. He barely survived the week without her.

“Jug I told you where I was. I’m gonna go down how everyone thought Jason did. I love you Juggie.” She hung up and cut him off.

Jughead barged through the front door of his shared trailer almost knocking his father over in the process.

“Hey! Son! Whats the rush?” FP was confused as ever.

“Not enough time. Emergency. Tell you later.” He rushed out as he slammed the door to his truck and took a second to hit the steering wheel. He didn’t notice he started crying until his nose was running. He started the engine and sped off, definitely over the speed limit, but he couldn’t care less at this point.

Betty slid her way onto the middle of the ice. she stared at the solid ice for a minute or two and contemplated on what she was going to do.  She slowly brought her fist up and pounded at the ice, cracking it with every hit. She sat there thinking about everything her mom made her to be. All the lies her mom filled her with. Nonetheless, she was right. Betty Cooper didn’t see herself as anything more than a nuisance, she only got in people’s way and ruined their reputation and their lives basically. Then she thought to Jughead. Poor Jughead. He deserved someone that wasn’t this problematic, someone simple. She hit it to the point if you stood on it, it would completely bottom out and drop you in the ice cold current. She stood up, and something caught her attention. A red flannel wearing, beanie-capped boy with a flashlight. Jughead.

“Betty, come to the shore. Come to me Betty, please.” He pleaded with the girl trying to reason with her.

“Juggie, I can’t.” Betty was a crying mess by now. Tripping over her words, jumbling them together.

“Why.” He took a step towards her. Just one.

“Don’t even think about coming over here Jughead Jones, it’s too dangerous.” She worried for him.

“I know it’s dangerous. That’s why I’m trying to get you to come to me, Betty, you can’t do this to me. I love you,” He slipped off his beanie, signifying his seriousness, “I love you, Elizabeth Cooper. Please don’t do this. You mean the world to me, not only me but Polly, and Veronica, and Archie, and Kevin, and Ethel, I can go on and on about how much you are loved. Betty do not give up. You can come with me, and I will protect you. I will protect you with everything I have. Betty. I love you, I love you, I love you. I cannot stress it enough.” He’s crying now, even more, if possible. But Betty doesn’t notice him taking a step with each sentence.

“Jug. I don’t deserve someone that loves me like you do. I’m a monster. You shouldn’t love a monster. This darkness inside of me is gonna get you too and I can’t let that happen. You deserve someone simple. Someone like Ethel.” Ethel had recently developed feelings for Jughead after he published an article in the Blue and Gold about her achievements. His face scrunched at the thought of having anyone else but Betty. The stood there for what felt like seconds as the ice was cracking under her feet. He took in her messy hair, her makeupless face. He noticed the S sweater he’s been missing for months now, internally he smiled at her forgetting the position they were in. He slowly reached out his hand to her. But before she even thinks about grabbing it. Before she could decide which side to choose, the ice consumed her. Jughead screamed as she just plummeted into the water, vanishing like she was never there. But then his adrenaline kicked in. That was his girl, and this is not gonna be her ending. He dropped to the floor and swept what little snow lay on the ice. He found her drifting with the ice cold current. She was screaming, she was pale already on the brink of turning purple. After what seemed like minutes her drifting stalled and she sat there pounding on the ice, she was running out of air and would definitely suffocate soon if Jughead didn’t do anything. Jughead knelt down right above where she was and started punching the ice full force. he was yelling and crying. He was doing anything he could to get his girl back.

His hands were coated in fresh cherry red blood. Finally, the ice started to break away, he created a hole barely big enough for her to fit, but it was enough for him. He reached his whole arm in to grab her by the wrist and pull her out. Her face was purple, her skin was cold, she wasn’t breathing. Jughead did the only thing he could think of. He quickly places his hands together on her chest and started pushing. He paused for only a moment to plug her nose and try to get her breathing again.

“You can’t do this to me. Elizabeth Cooper! I won’t let you! I’ll die before I let you do this to me!” He yelled at her. He hadn’t stopped crying since he got her call. That was his baby. That was his girl. She looked like an empty shell. Nonetheless, he didn’t stall his attempt to bring her back to life. After 5 minutes she gasped for the cold air. It felt good in her lungs. She held her hands to her head, completely unaware to Jughead sitting next to her until he squishes her into his arms and cries into her hair. Their sitting on the ice, both cold but Betty more so, shivering, crying, hugging. Jughead spreads little kisses all over her face as he worriedly scolds her.

“Betty what is wrong with you?! Don’t you ever do that shit to me ever again! I was so worried! Betty what the hell?! I love you!” He holds her head in between his hands and makes sure she understands him perfectly well. She’s shivering so he takes her (his) sweater and wraps her in her flannel and puts his beanie on her head and picks her up and runs to his truck. Once finally in the car, he cranks up the heater to make an effort to help as much as he can. Half way home he can see she’s still shivering. He unclips her seatbelt and pulls her over to his side and wraps his arm around her. She smiles to herself, despite what they had been through not only fifteen minutes ago, she felt at peace. She always felt at peace with him. He always will be there for her. With the knowledge of affection from him, she feels a great wave of remorse push through her.

“Jug” Only a whisper coming out.

“Yes, Betty?” He looked at her for a moment before training his eyes on the road.

“I’m sorry, I just… I thought you’d be better without me. I don’t do much good to anyone and I-“ she was quickly interrupted.

“Betty. Stop. You deserve me as much as I deserve you. Maybe it’s me that doesn’t deserve you, but how could you say you don’t do much good to anyone? You have changed my Betty Cooper. You have made me believe in love. I will only ever want you. Screw your mother, screw your father. You are such a beautiful human being inside and out that I’m beginning to think you’re not even human, more like a damn goddess Elizabeth Cooper. I love you so much. If I let you just do what you did and die, I would never forgive myself. I will protect you from anything and everything; whether it be your mom, or the rumors that the brain dead jocks like to spread about you, or even you. I will protect you, I promise. I love you, Elizabeth Cooper.” He finishes his little speech with a reassuring kiss on her forehead. He smiles as she rests her sopping wet hair on his lap and gently falls asleep.

“I won’t let anything or anyone her you” He whispers to her sleeping form.

Jughead carries his half asleep girlfriends into his trailer. His dad sitting on the couch jumps up at the sound of the door opening.

“What the hell! Forsythe Pendleton Jones! You had me worried sick!” His father completely ignores the sleeping girl in his arms until Jughead shushes him. Jughead carries Betty into his room. Gently he rubs her shoulder only to wake her enough to throw her some of his pajama bottoms. She nods a little thank you when he smiles at her and kisses her temple. He gives her some privacy to change and peacefully be with herself while he talks to his dad.

“Jughead. What happened?” He pulls his shoulder to guide him to the small circle dining table.

“She tried to kill herself, dad. The love of my life tried to end hers.” Jughead said more to himself, almost like it hasn’t sunk in yet.

“Do you know why?” He knew he was pushing his boundaries but FP cared about Betty, she was like his daughter in law already, of course, he wanted her to be safe.

“Not entirely, I know it has to deal with her mom, rumors the jocks made up, and me. Dad. She doesn’t think she deserves me. Well, she didn’t think she did, we talked in the car and that part is solved.” Jughead doesn’t want to cry anymore, but thinking about what Betty wanted to do terrified him.

“Jughead. I know Mama Cooper is the hardest on Betty. I know how vicious she can get. If Betty would like, she can stay here for as long as she’d like, or for as long as she needs. I know you’ll protect her Jug. You love her, I know you do.” Jughead nodded in agreement with that he thanked his father and went to go ask Betty what she thought. He knocked on the door, he heard no reply, the silence scared him. He opened the door and the window was open. Wide open.
“Shitty Betty!” He ran to the window looking out of it, looking for his blonde.

“What Jug?” She asked him hearing his exasperation from inside the attached bathroom.

“You really think I’d try to leave?” She wore a small smile on her face following a slight chuckle.

“Sorry, you didn’t answer to my knock and when I came in the window was wide open. Jesus Betty, why is the window open? It’s November, it’s practically on the brink of snowing.” He walked to her embracing her.

Lifting her head up she took his face in her hands, “It feels good. What was so urgent Jug?”

“Dad said you’re more than welcome to stay here until you feel better. But if you don’t want to and you insist on going home that’s fine too. I just want you to be safe and I want you to be hap-“ He took her hands away from his face and held them in his own.

“Jughead, would it really be okay for me to stay? I don’t feel safe at home anymore.”

Beaming at her he couldn’t contain his happiness, “Betty, like I said more than welcome.”

- i can't look at the sky

request: could you write one where the reader is Jason and Cheryl’s sister? Loved Afraid of Heights tysm x

pairing: jughead jones x reader

a/n: okay so I am writing this during my shift at the sleep room where I should be monitoring and watching babies sleep but I’m doing this instead. I should be fired but oh well……

also the title is a line from a poem that I love.

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Snakes and Stones

Requested

________________________________________________________________

“Damn,” Sam said under his breath. He and Dean had just stepped into a small, rundown diner where the ghoul was known to terrorize. While the diner was open 24/7, the brothers had hoped that they would find the diner empty (except for the ghoul, obviously).

But you were sitting down at the corner of the counter, staring straight ahead.

“Nah, it’s cool,” Dean said, studying you. “She’s obviously drunk. And maybe blind.”

“What?”

“Look at her—beanie down to her ears, no doubt hiding greasy hair. Stained pants that haven’t been washed, hell, maybe not even taken off in at least four days. Sunglasses on inside at…” Dean glanced at his watch. “11:26 pm.”

“That doesn’t–”

“And take a look at that plate in front of her. Biscuits and gravy with bacon. Heavy on the grease.”

“You really have no room to judge people on what they eat. You probably think that looks good.”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

At that moment, a waitress stepped out from the back. “Help you, boys?”

“Table for two,” Dean said, holding up two fingers. “Booth if you can.”

The waitress nodded to the booth the brothers were standing next to. Sam and Dean slid into it as the waitress placed sticky plastic menus in front of them. The boys pretended to look over the pages while surveying the diner.

“That’s our ghoul,” Dean whispered as the waitress drifted back into the kitchen.

“Totally,” Sam said. “So, what… ambush in the kitchen?”

Dean pursed his lips. “I don’t know…”

“We need to keep that civilian safe.”

“Yeah, yeah. But…”

“What?”

“I don’t want to destroy the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“That’s where the food is.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

At that moment, there was a screeching in the back, along with the clanging of pots and pans hitting the floor. Sam and Dean grabbed their weapons and dashed into the kitchen.

The cook lay dead in the middle of the kitchen floor, his blood splattered around, his intestines now on the outside of his stomach. The waitress lay near him, mouth covered in red. The figure standing over her corpse was wearing a beanie and stained pants.

“Hold it right there!” Dean said, gun aimed.

“Easy, gents. I’m just here to help.”

“Who the hell are you?” Sam asked.

You raised your hand to your face, causing the Winchesters to twitch, prepared to fire if you tried to throw a blade or shoot a bullet in their direction. Slowly, you turned.

“Guns down, boys. The threat’s gone.”

“What did you do to them?”

“Her.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“I only did something to her. She killed the cook.”

Dean’s eyes went from the bloated corpses at your feet to your eyes.

Your sunglasses-covered eyes.

“How’d a blind chick gank a ghoul with such speed and ease?”

“I’m not blind.”

“Hungover?”

“No?”

“Then what’s with the glasses?”

“Nothing.”

“So take ‘em off.”

“No, thanks.”

“You got somethin’ to hide?”

“You have no idea.”

Dean and Sam shared a look. “What’s going on here?” Sam asked.

“I did my job.” You paused for a moment. “And apparently your job as well. Nice try, boys. Better luck next time.”

“Who the hell are you?” Dean asked.

“Y/N. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” You started out of the kitchen, brushing past the Winchesters.

Dean watched as you disappeared. Was it his imagination or was there a faint hissing sound following you?

“You can have my biscuits, if you want,” you called behind you.

Dean was tempted—after all, the cook was dead. But the mystery of you was too big to leave alone.

“Hey,” he called, following you, Sam following him.

Did… did your beanie just move?

“What are you hiding?”

“Everything I normally don’t share with strangers!”

Dean reached forward, yanking your beanie off.

He froze in his tracks, Sam running into him.

“Holy shit,” Dean said.

“Goddammit!” You spun around, hand darting to your hair.

Your hair made of SNAKES.

“Give me that back!” You reached out for the beanie.

Dean was so shocked that he let you jerk the beanie from his fingers. You pulled it back down over your head, tucking in a stray snake. You adjusted your sunglasses but Dean could feel the glare you were giving him.

“Holy shit,” Sam said. “You’re a… a Gorgon.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “So?”

“I didn’t think those existed!”

“Yeah, well, we do, thank you very much.”

“Hold on, she’s a what now?” Dean asked.

“Right here, jackass,” you murmured.

“A Gorgon. They’re these creatures from Greek mythology with hair made of snakes and a stare that turns victims to stone.”

“Wait, like Medusa?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak of Grandmother as if you knew her.”

The Winchesters stared at you, eyes wide.

“You… you’re related to Medusa?” Sam asked, incredulously.

“Any living Gorgon can trace their lineage back to her. There aren’t that many of us left, though.” You studied the men. “So… can I go now?”

“Are you a hunter?” Sam asked.

“I do what I can.”

The three of you stood in awkward silence.

“Can I seriously have your biscuits?” Dean asked.

Counterpoint

(this is, of course, from a much longer fic I wrote, edited very slightly so it could exist on its own. it was originally meant to be a one shot so I decided to post it on tumblr as one since it’s the origin of my favorite personal root and TM head canon. apologies if you have already read it…I’m working on new stuff I promise).



“How does it…she talk to you?” Shaw asked her one evening as they were strolling through Central Park, an eager Bear bouncing around on the end of his leash and snapping at snowflakes.

Root looked sideways at Shaw, took in her face, red with the cold beneath the black beanie she’d pulled on. There was snow collecting on the shoulders of her coat and sticking to the locks of her hair that hung loose to frame her face. The Machine whispered to Root about dihedral symmetry and the crystalline structure of snowflakes but for once she wasn’t fully listening to what She had to say.

Sometimes not knowing the tiny details was okay. She was learning to accept that.

“What are you asking?” Root finally replied.

If it had been anyone else she would have given a snide, patronizing answer or settled for something suitably vague that sounded far more profound than it actually was. But it was Shaw who had asked.

“Is it words, numbers? Like someone reading the phone book in your ear? Or like one of those numbers stations?”

They’d stopped so Bear could roll in a snowbank and Shaw was trying hard not to smile at his antics. Possibly torn between appreciating his obvious enjoyment and knowing she’d have to dry him off later.

“Sometimes.” Root let her eyes wander over the darkened park. It was early enough that it was still fairly crowded, mostly by people playing in the snow or by people hurrying through, heads down and coats buttoned tightly against the cold.

“Why do I even bother asking?” Shaw muttered without any real malice, reaching down to brush the top layer of snow off of Bear when he came running back over to them.

“Sometimes it’s words. About what you’d hear when you answer a payphone call from Her. Sometimes it’s only a tone. One pitch for yes, another for no.”

Shaw nodded to herself. “Makes sense. Faster that way.”

They started walking again, Root still trying to think of a way to more fully answer Shaw’s question. She almost didn’t want to answer; what she had with the Machine was very private. She knew Shaw would understand that, but at the same time she still wanted to try and explain.

“It’s different depending on what type of information she’s relaying,” Root continued as they walked past the icy lake. There were no little swan boats out on the water today.

Shaw didn’t respond, only bumped her elbow lightly with her own, as if letting her know she was still listening.

“You remember when Reese and I got admin access?”

“You mean when I shot you?” Shaw sounded pleased with herself for bringing that up.

Root smiled, a tiny twitch of her lips.

“Yes,” she said, tolerantly. “When you shot me, Shaw. Anyway, the Machine gave us directions on where to go and enemy locations using clock position. Or She did at first. I suspect Reese stuck with that system because he was used to it already, but I had Her switch it to tones, ascending and descending.”

“How was that easier?” Shaw asked. “Clock position makes more sense.”

“To you.”

It hadn’t been as natural for Root. She knew clock position, but she’d never had to use it the way Reese and Shaw would have and the time it took to interpret the word and change it into a location based on a clock was far too much of a delay for her. She would have gotten faster at it, but the tones had felt more organic.

“So you get tones for combat. Doesn’t sound very useful. How much information can you really get that way?”

They’d stopped again to let Bear engage in a very careful investigation of a snow-covered shrub. Shaw leaned against a lamppost and Root stood a few steps away, poking at the freshly fallen snow on the path with the toe of her boot.

“At first it wasn’t much, but the system only started there. It’s…more complicated now.”

“Isn’t everything,” Shaw said under her breath and Root chuckled in agreement.

“Instead of clock positions there are…musical directions? I’m not sure there’s even a word for it. Different pitches and different intervals mean different things. Minor chords for warnings and major chords for advantages. A faster tempo to encourage swifter action. A Doppler effect for distance.”

Shaw was finally looking at her, eyebrows raised. “That sounds very loud and confusing. I’ll stick to simple numbers, thanks.”

Root shrugged. “It started with only one or two tones and we slowly grew it from there. Like learning a new language. Now I don’t even have to think about it. Everyone has their own notes, their own rhythm. A song almost.”

“You’re saying I have my own theme song?” Shaw was grinning at her now, Bear’s snowy adventures forgotten for a moment.

Root returned her smile, stepping in to brush snow off of her coat shoulder’s and then run her hands up and down Shaw’s arms a few times before releasing her.

“It’s one of my favorites,” she said, making it sound extra sappy.

It was easier, sometimes, to push the flirting and teasing up to eleven because it made Shaw take it less seriously. And that let Root hide how serious she was being.

“You’ll have to get her to play it for me sometime.”

“I’m sure She’d be happy to, though I don’t know how much it would mean to you without the whole system.” Though Root thought it might not matter. It still conveyed the tight precision driven by the adrenalized energy that was Shaw in the midst of battle. It was music that took joy in its own performance.

“No wonder you’re staring off into space all the time. Got a whole fucking orchestra blaring in your brain.”

Bear had finally determined that the shrub wasn’t a threat to national security and they were allowed to continue their walk.

“A lot of the time She talks to me using words,” Root corrected. “But in high-stress situations She switches to notes, because it’s easier to process them subconsciously.”

“You must be unbelievable at guitar hero.”

Root snorted in amusement and they lapsed into silence. The wind was picking up and she moved in closer to Shaw, their shoulders brushing now.

“Also when I’m walking around thinking about other things, like now for instance, she’ll play soft notes in the background to tell me where people are around me and how fast they’re moving. Things like that. At first it was only noise to me, but now it’s like having a blurry picture of the whole area in my mind. Like watercolors. It helps me see things I couldn’t otherwise see. Makes up for…things I can’t do.” There was a slight stab of pain from behind her right ear, psychosomatic she knew, but it still hurt.

“I don’t think I’d want anyone in my head like that,” Shaw said. She didn’t sound like she was condemning Root’s connection, only ruling it out for herself.

“I’m sure if the need ever arose She and you could work out a system that suited both of you.” It was something she’d actually discussed with Her before.

“Why would the need ever arise?” Shaw had an edge of wariness in her voice now.

“We’re at war with Decima, Shaw, and the actuality of Samaritan is breathing down our necks. Who knows what will become necessary before we’re done.”

“You’ve got the computer whisperer bit covered. We don’t need more tech heads. Literal tech head in your case.”

“If I weren’t around someone would have to talk to Her.”

Root realized Shaw had stopped walking and turned back to look at her. She was standing in the light of a lamppost, snowflakes whirling around her, and an odd look on her face.

“Shaw?”

Shaw only shook her head and started walking again. Root fell back into step with her but left a little more space. She knew something had caused a ripple across the calm surface of Shaw’s mind but she wasn’t completely sure what.

“I don’t want a computer talking in my head, okay?” Shaw said after a long moment.

Was that all it had been? Maybe so, because Shaw had closed the distance between them again and was walking so close to her that she was having a hard time not tripping on her feet.

“That’s…”

“So you’d better make sure nothing happens to you. Because I’m not going to put up with AI’s greatest hits of the 90’s in my brain. Okay?” She sounded furious and Root couldn’t stop the smile that her words provoked.

“Okay.”

“I mean it, Root.”

“Okay, Sameen.”

In her ear Shaw’s song softened from an angry clash of minor chords into a smoother progression that blended with Root’s own music, melodies twining together.

much better

Pairing:  Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
For:  @mcgregorswench
Prompt:  #22. Tailgating

A/N:  High school AU


Darcy swung her legs a little, her red, white and blue beanie tugged down over her ears as she shivered.  

“Here…” Steve shrugged off his letterman jacket.  "You wanna wear this?“  

"No… no, I couldn't…” she said, shaking her head.  "I woudln’t want you to get cold just because I was a dummy and left my hoodie at home.“  

"I’m actually too warm…” he said, draping it over her shoulders.  It engulfed her, drew attention to how broad his shoulders actually were.  Like she needed any more reminding.  

Steve hopped up onto the tailgate with her, sliding up closer.  "If that’s not… helpin’ enough, I could… I mean…" he trailed off, letting his hand drag through his hair.

“It is really cold,” she said expectantly.  

He blushed crimson as he draped his arm around her.  "That better?“  

"Much.  Thank you.”  

“It’s my pleasure.”  

Other Fish, and Mister Rights

Series: Lifetimes
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: SasuSaku
Rated: T
Prompt: Yes, I know this is your sweatshirt and that we broke up five months ago but it’s really comfy okay. I totally don’t wear it because like it still smells like you or is the only thing that even remotely feels like home since I moved out. Pfft. Absolutely not.

Break ups.

Everyone she’s ever met had been through them from her close friends to acquaintances. Her best friend had been through multiple and had always seemed to bounce back stronger than ever citing that the boy who had let her go just was not the right one. There’s the slightest roll of her eyes at that mentality.

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Time Will Tell (Pricefield)

It had been a few months since Chloe and Max had finally agreed with one another that they were officially girlfriends…And Chloe couldn’t have been any happier. For once in her miserable life she was actually happy.

Chloe had been up since about 9am, kicking around in the kitchen to sort a few things out for what she had planned for herself and Max. She hadn’t told the brunette about what she was planning, mainly because she wanted to surprise her.

She finished up what she was doing in the kitchen, packed things up before rushing off upstairs to get herself dressed, choosing to wear a pair of dark blue skinny jeans with a black and red plaid shirt and her usual boots and beanie hat. She checked herself once over in the mirror before she made her way out the house, her hands full with things to put into her truck.

She was glad that the money she earned from working in The Two Whales had helped her pay to get her truck fixed, because now it meant she could get around again without having to catch a bus. She could feel her heart racing as she got into the driver’s seat of the truck, getting herself hyped up for Max’s reaction to their plans for the day. It was Saturday after all and the weather had gotten warmer.

She pulled the truck up in the Blackwell parking lot after driving for a while, checking in the back of the truck to make sure that nothing had been thrown around with her driving before she took off into a small jog towards the dorms. She nodded her head towards Trevor and Justin who both called over to her, but she never stopped she continued into the dorm building and made a beeline past the usual suspects that floated around the hallways like Dana and Juliet.

She halted right outside Max’s dorm room door and stood there for a few seconds before grinning as she lifted her gently clenched fist and smacked her knuckles against the wood of the door before she dropped her hand down to her sides, keeping the grin on her face as she waited on an answer.

@shesneverleavingme

SasoSaku Xmas Collab

notes modern college au bc im a sucker for cute couple holidays and cringy refs to social media. sasori and sakura have a 2 yr age difference. collab with the amazingly talented and super sweet friend YakumoDT!! you can find them on Pixiv and Twitter and they are definitely worth checking out!!!

AO3 || FFnet

“Wait, keep the door open!” Sakura shouts from the other side of the subway entrance towards an elderly man planning to enter the transport, dragging a very, very out-of-breath Sasori behind her. She enters into a sprint, and successfully manages to close in on the door before it could close in on them.

Sakura quickly thanks the man before sitting down in the relatively empty wagon, and Sasori plops into the seat beside her, struggling to breathe properly through the stitches he must undoubtedly be suffering through right now. Looking around, Sasori concludes that no one of knowledge was around to see him in - what he loved to say - this despicable state, and he lays his head on her shoulder to continue his recovery from near death.

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tried a few pieces and hoped that they'd fit

Summary: Patterson and Tasha get to go solve Jewel Staite’s treasure hunt because they’re, y’know, the puzzle solvers on the team.

Characters: Patterson and Tasha Zapata

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: This is gay and I wrote it in like five hours.

“You couldn’t have found…anything else?” Tasha grumbles, pulling her red beanie down at the back. “The FBI suddenly has no undercover budget?”

Patterson manages a grin, her cheeks pinked by the chilly breeze. “It’s cute. Coding chic for the coder. The leather jacket’s a nice touch, too.” She gestures down to her own outfit. “Me, on the other hand…”

“I don’t know,” Tasha says, her lips quirking, “I think HR got a call from the 1950s last week. Red plaid is making a comeback.”

read the rest on ao3

Of Leo and Lily

provocative-envy‘s birthday bash actually starts tomorrow, but i am trash and hate editing  am really excited about rare pairs so i’m posting this now. (regulily coffeeshop au that needs a lot more worldbuilding/actual backstories of characters/a coherent timeline/i played so fast and so loose with canon/it was only meant to be a drabble, i cry 2500 words later)

ff.net

He is literally reaching behind his back to untie his apron springs because it is finally time to close—good God, he hadn’t realized how much work this would be—when a girl storms in like a hurricane, getting mud and snow all over his just swept floor and he watches in horror as she rips the beanie off her long dark red hair and collapses onto a bar stool.

“Er—” he starts, but she is already speaking.

“Look, I’m really sorry and I know this is an awful thing to do because you’re about to close and I’m so sorry but can I please please please have whatever kind of coffee has the most caffeine because this has been possibly the worst day of my life, like a three-flavor-shots kind of bad day and I—I can make it myself, if you want, I used to be a barista in high school or I can help you close—actually I would love to do that because I have a very great need to clean something but I currently have an even greater need for coffee so—please?”

And then she’s staring up at him with bright green eyes—and seriously are those real because no one has eyes that green—and he gives a beleaguered sigh before retying his apron, measuring out espresso, pumping three different flavors into a cup. “What kind of milk?”

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Revenge - Part 5

Pairing: Captain Hook x Reader

Featuring: none

Words: 1547

Warning: none

Tags: @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13

Request: requested by Anonymous:

“can u please do a killian jones/captain hook (from outa) imagine pls :)”

Notes: none

Originally posted by netflixruinedmylifeimagines

PART 1  /  PART 2  /  PART 3  /  PART 4  /  PART 6  /  PART 7



Just like you imagined it would happen, you ended up that night taking Hook to his cabin and putting him in bed. Of course, he tried to take you in with him but you avoided it, knowing you had already been stupid enough by kissing him when he was drunk. You still didn’t understand why he did it when you clearly meant nothing to him, but you kissed him back anyway which, in your opinion, had been a huge mistake. If you were lucky, he wouldn’t remember a thing next day. If you were lucky…

That night you didn’t get too much sleep. All you could think about was the Captain’s lips on yours, on how tender, passionate and perfect his kiss was regardless his drunk state. Why did he kiss you? And why did he look like he had been looking for you? A part of you wanted to think that it was because he had true feelings towards you but, at the same time, you knew better: he just liked playing games and that’s all you were for him. The idea made you feel like a hole was opening in your chest but you knew you had to accept it.

As soon as the sun came up and came into your cabin, you got up and got ready to go and have some breakfast and, of course, to face him. Would he remember? Hopefully…he wouldn’t. But what if he did? What were you supposed to say and what would he say?

It still took you a time to leave your cabin and the only reason you did it was because you were starving. As you walked to the kitchen you were looking around the whole time, silently praying not to see him or hear him. By the time you got to the kitchen you were quite satisfied with your success but the universe was against you: the moment you were about to walk in, he was walking out of it.

You stopped on your tracks and the moment he saw you, he did the same, staring at you. All your hopes about him not remembering about last night were forgotten the moment you looked into his eyes. He remembered.

“Morning”, he murmured finally breaking the tense silent.

“Morning Captain”, you said back politely as you tried to avoid his eyes. “If you excuse me…” you added trying to walk by his side but as soon as you moved a bit closer, he grabbed your waist, making you all nervous.

“What happened last night was…” he started saying but you immediately cut him off.

“A one-time thing”, you said quickly.

He narrowed his eyes at you, wondering what had gotten into you over the night. You had kissed him back, he felt something and he thought you did too so what was this about? He licked his lips as he looked at your mouth, feeling frustrated all over again thanks to you.

“Fine…” he nodded and let go of your wrist. “Have a good day, my lady”, he said.

“You too, Captain”, you replied finally walking in the kitchen, feeling your heart in your throat.

For a moment you could still feel his eyes on your back but soon you heard his footsteps going away, letting you relax or try to. You were surprised by your own reaction but you certainly did not expect to see him so suddenly, just there in front of you, so close. Making you feel like you were suddenly falling and there was nothing down to catch you. Shaking your head, you decided the best you could do during that day was avoiding him, so you were going to spend the day walking around the dock of the village. If you were lucky, Hook would spend the day at his cabin, suffering his hangover, and you wouldn’t see him.




When Hook woke up that day everything was kind of a blur. He knew he had been drinking way too much, trying to take you out of his head with some other girl in the village. He also knew it didn’t work but he didn’t remember much. Except one thing. There was one thing that was clear in his mind: the moment he kissed you.

The Captain didn’t know what you two had been talking, he didn’t know how he got to his bed, but he could remember perfectly the feeling of your lips against his. He remembered you had kissed back so he woke up immediately, forgetting his hangover, and left his cabin hoping to see you.

When he finally saw you, he was taken back by your reaction. He didn’t understand you. You had kissed him back. Why were you acting that way?

“Damn woman”, he mumbled to himself when he was alone in his cabin. You frustrated him like nobody else had ever done. You were a mystery, a puzzle and he couldn’t figure you out.

Actually, he knew it was better if you didn’t want anything to do with him due to what his plan was. But he just hadn’t been able to stop the feelings and now he didn’t know how he would finish his mission, how he would betray you like he had to do. But he had to. It was his revenge towards the Dark One, it was his best shot and for the first time in years he was considering giving it up. For you.

Since he wasn’t in the mood to see anyone he just spent the day in his cabin until he told Smith to check that everyone and everything was in place to sail again. This stop had been stupid and nothing good had come out of it, at least for him. Maybe his crew had took the time they had.

“Captain?”  Smith’s voice came through the door. Irritated, Hook told him to come.

“What is it now, Smith?” He asked.

“The girl. We can’t find her”, he mumbled fiddling with his red beanie nervously.

At first, Hook thought he had misheard the man. The girl… you? They couldn’t find you? Immediately, he got up from his chair and walked towards Smith, who took a few steps back, looking scared and he had reasons to.

“What the hell do you mean?” Hook enquired, grabbing Smith’s neck and pushing him against the wall violently.

“We-we we saw her going out of the s-ship this morning, Ca-Captain. But sh-she hasn’t re-returned”, he said through gasps.

Hook looked at his sailor feeling like he could rip his throat right them but he decided against it and let him go, walking out of his cabin as fast as he could, going up to the deck and looking around, like he was going to see you there.

“Where is she?” He asked looking around but no one said a thing. They weren’t even looking at him. “WHERE IS SHE?” He screamed.

Then he heard a giggling. A too familiar one. One that made him furious, one that made fire run through his veins at the same time it sent a shiver down his spine. Nothing good came with that giggle. Slowly, he turned around to find Rumpelstiltskin in the flash just next to the rudder.

“Crocodile” Hook mumbled looking at the man with something that was much more than hate.

“Looking for someone?” The Dark One asked with that familiar innocent faked tone.

“Where is she?” The Captain asked.

“Oh, I see…that beautiful girl. (Y/N) is her name”, Rumpelstiltskin said hopping down the stairs. “She is safe. For now”, he giggled again.

“What do you want, Crocodile?” Hook asked knowing it wouldn’t be easy with this man. He was capable of anything.

“I’m here to stop you!”  He exclaimed like it was all a child game. “You see… I’ve talked to your friend…Zelena! Yes, the green one”, he started talking. “And she told me something I found quite…interesting, I admit”, Hook took a deep breath, knowing where this was heading. “She told me about her interest in certain village girl who works in tavern. She needs her to kill the Queen. Special lady that girl, isn’t she? So I went to her village and you know what I found? That she was with you! Something about a deal, a pirate and a crocodile. Interesting huh? How you were about to betray the girl you love for revenge…” he smirked putting his hands together.

“I don’t-“ Hook was about to say he didn’t love you when Rumpelstiltskin suddenly made you appear by his side.

“Sorry, you were saying?” The Dark One said smirking. But Hook wasn’t interested in the little man anymore. He was looking at you, your eyes full of tears.

“Was he saying the truth?” Was all you asked the pirate.

“You bastard…!” Hook exclaimed looking at the Dark One whose smile was now bigger. You had been listening the whole time.

“Look at me!” You screamed making Hook look at you once again.

“Feisty…I like her… I think I will take her to Zelena myself. We kind of have a deal”, the Dark One said.

“Don’t you dare”, Hook warned him but it was of no use.

“Bye dearie”, he said before he made himself and you disappear in a cloud of smoke.

A Change of Heart

Gift for: @elvendoork

A/N: So I might have gotten a bit carried away with this fic, which would exclaim its length, but I hope you like it!

Summary: What is she thinking? Spilling all her secrets to a man who is practically a stranger? However, as Lily glances over at him, she can easily see him becoming a friend one day. He’s kind, understanding, and funny. Plus, Marlene says that he’s a great guy. If Marlene approves, then Lily knows she shouldn’t question her.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 15,343

Lily will never forget the day she was almost hit by a car. It was the day that changed her life forever. She remembers exactly what she was wearing. (Black leggings, her combat boots, a black skirt with six gold buttons down the front of it, a red sweater, a heavy brown coat, a black scarf, and a red beanie topped off with her beige shoulder bag.) She remembers exactly where she was standing when she noticed the car. (In the middle of the street while the snow rained down around her.) And she most definitely remembers who was driving the car.

“I am so sorry,” the man apologizes for the hundredth time, as his car idles behind them. “I didn’t even see you there and you must think I’m horrible driver, but really I’m not. Oh, you’re probably going to sue me, too, which is a shame because you’re rather pretty-”

Lily can’t help it. She lets out a giggle. “I’m not going to sue you. Now if you had made me spill my sugar cookies, we might have had a problem.”

The man smiles—really smiles—and Lily looses her breath. He is beautiful when he does that because when he smiles, he smiles with his whole face. His hazel eyes light up, allowing her to see all of the swirling greens, golds, and browns that lay in those pools. His mouth crinkles with laugh lines that make him look young instead of old—like he has laughed a lot in his short lifetime. His brows unfurrow as concern lifts itself from his brow. Yes, he is most beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, but this time lightheartedly. “I was rushing to get to my best friend’s Christmas party.”

“Me too,” Lily replies with a smile. Then a thought occurs to her. “You wouldn’t happen to be James, would you?”

He smile grows even bigger. “Why, yes, yes I am. Do I know you?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I know Sirius. He’s dating my best friend, Marlene, though you wouldn’t know it from the way he goes on about you. You’d think you were the love of his life.”

James throws back his head and laughs, causing Lily to join in with him.

“Well, he’s certainly not the love of my life,” James tells her. “We are good friends though—more like brothers actually. If you wait here, I’ll park my car and then I’ll walk you up.”

“Only if you promise not to run me over while I wait,” she jokes. James just smiles at her before returning to his car and parking it. Then he’s back at her side and Lily can’t help, but smile. He holds the door to the apartment building for her as the grin on his lips widens. In the elevator, he tells her about how he and Sirius meant Marlene. It’s very different from her version. A ding singles their arrival on Marlene and Sirius’ floor.

“After you,” James says as he once again opening the door for her. Such a gentleman, she thinks. Once she steps through the door, Marlene spots her immediately. Her blonde friend rushes over and almost squeezes the life out of her.

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