and so watch as i go and search out lovely pictures

The 10 Elements of a MAIN CHARACTER

To all the writers who have ever been told “Your characters have to be three dimensional!” or “They should be well-rounded!” and just felt like saying: “What does that even MEAN?! What goes into a 3-dimensional character? Specifically? And how do you go about creating one?!”

Good news. There’s a way. 

Great main characters – heroes, protagonists, deuteragonist, whatever you want to call them – have ten things in common. Ten things that are easily developed, once you know what to create within your character. So no one will ever be able to tell you “needs to be more three dimensional!” ever again. Ha. 

1) Weaknesses: Main characters should be flawed, but I’m not saying this because it will make them more realistic (though it will) – I’m saying they need to be flawed because if they’re not, they shouldn’t be a main character. Story is another word for change, or more accurately, character growth. Not character as in “fictional person”, character meaning “heart and soul”. Story is someone’s character changing, for better or worse. Main characters at the beginning of the story are lacking something vital, some knowledge of themselves, some knowledge of how to live a better life, and this void is ruining their lives. They must overcome these weaknesses, if they’re going to become complete, and reach a happy ending. There are two types of weaknesses: Psychological and Moral. Psychological ones only hurt the main character. Moral ones cause the main character to hurt other people. Easy.  

2) Goal: Characters exist because they want something. Desiring something, and the fight against opposition for that desire, is the lifeblood of story; and because character is story, it’s also desire that can breathe life into words on a page, and begin the process of creating a real person in a reader’s mind. It’s this ‘desire for something’ that sparks that first connection between reader and character. It makes us think “Well, now I have to find out if this person gets what they want.” This is a powerful link. (How many mediocre movies do we suffer through, when we could easily stop watching, because we’re still trapped by that question of “what happens?”) So if this is powerful enough to keep people watching an annoying movie, imagine how powerful it can be in an excellent story. 

Like in Up, the goal is to get the house to Paradise Falls.

3) Want: If the main character wants something, they want it for a darn good reason. Usually, they think that attaining the goal will fill the void they can sense in their lives, the deficiency they can feel, but don’t know how to fix. And they’re almost always wrong. Getting the goal doesn’t help anything; which is why, while pursuing that goal, they discover a deeper need that will heal them. Which brings us to …

4) Need/Elixir: Main characters are missing something, a weakness in their innermost selves is causing them to live a less-than-wonderful life. Through story, these main characters can be healed. Once they discover what’s missing, and accept it, and change the way they live to include this truth they’ve uncovered … they’re healed. Learning this truth, whatever it is, forms the purpose of the story for the main character. The reader, and the character, think the story is about achieving that big tangible goal the premise talks about; really, underneath it all, the story is about someone achieving a big intangible truth, that will ultimately save their life and future. Often, this need is exactly what the character fears or professes to hate. 

Like Finding Nemo, where Dory states exactly what Marlin needs to learn. 

5) Ghosts: 

Not this kind of ghosts.

Ghosts are events in your character’s past which mark the source of their weaknesses and strengths. Because these happened, the character became who they are. All we need to know about backstory are these moments, because who the character became is all we care about. There’s really only one ghost you absolutely need: the source of their moral and psychological weakness. Something happened that knocked the character’s world off kilter, and everything from that moment onward has been tainted by what happened. This moment haunts them (hence the name), and holds them back from uncovering that need that will heal their weaknesses. Pixar are masters of this: the source of Carl being stuck in the past, curmudgeonly, unable of loving anyone new? Ellie dying; his ghost. In Finding Nemo, the source of Marlin being suffocating, protective to the point of being harmful, possessive, and fearful? His wife and 99% of his children being eaten in front of him; his ghost. 

6) True Character: These are the strengths, values, convictions, fears, faults, beliefs, worldview, and outlook on life that make the main character who they truly are. 

7) Characterization: This is everything on the surface of a main character. The way they look, talk, act, etc. All of this originates from those deeper elements of their being, the strengths, values, ghosts, weaknesses, needs, that make them who they truly are. So often, you can think of this as a facade they’re projecting, a way to shield the the truth about themselves, how they wish to be perceived. The story, and the other characters, are slowly going to see deeper than this characterization, revealing more and more of the reasons it is the way it is. 

8) Arc: If the character is going to change from “Incomplete Person” to “Complete Person” there’s going to be a journey they go on to make that possible. The external story, the pursuit of that big tangible goal the premise is about, is causing an inner journey to take place. What they have to do in pursuit of that external goal will apply pressure to those weaknesses, and pressure causes change. This process has seven steps, but if I write it all here this post is going to be obscenely long. So I might wait and give this its own post.

9) Changed Person: Who is the character going to be at the end of this story? They better be different, or else the story didn’t work. How do they show how different they’ve become? What is the moral choice they make, that spins their trajectory from “the future doesn’t look so great” to “happily ever after”? This should be known right away, maybe even before anything else is settled about the character. This gives a distinct end goal, a way to work backwards, a destination in mind that you can navigate towards.  

10) Fascination and Illumination: The surface characterization, and the brief glimpses of the true character underneath create curiosity in the reader/audience. What the character says, and the implied subtext beneath the dialogue, creates a puzzle the audience wants to solve. Actions they take work the same way; if the writer indicates there’s deeper motivation behind why a character behaves in the way they do, we buy into solving that mystery right away. We can’t help it. “Who are you really? Why are you the way you are? And how is that going to effect the story?” These are all the unspoken, almost not consciously acknowledged, questions that fascinating characters provoke. Searching out meaning, connecting the dots to find the truth – we can’t resist this. We’re not fascinated by tons of backstory and exposition about a character; we’re fascinated by story, by mystery, by the technique of withholding information and having to interpret and hunt out the truth on our own.  So gradually, the story and the characters will force that character to reveal a little more, and a little more, until we have a complete picture of who this person is. Crucial that this information isn’t told up front. Gradually illuminate it. It’s just like getting to know a real person. 

So how does this work in a real character? Let’s take a look at Flynn Rider/Eugene Fitzherbert, because almost everybody has seen that movie. 

Moral Weaknesses: He’s selfish. He’s a little greedy. He’s a little rude. He uses his charisma and bravado to keep people at a distance from the real him. 

Psychological Weaknesses: Insecurity, fear of vulnerability, feels like the real him (Eugene) would be unwanted, unlovable, and have nothing – just like when he was an orphaned kid. Also, he doesn’t know who he wants to be, what he wants to live for. 

Goal: Flynn wants to get that crown. So he has to get Blondie to see the floating lights, so she’ll give it back to him, and then they can part ways as unlikely friends.  

Want: Why does he want the crown? What does it mean for him? He actually states it (reluctantly) in song: “I have dreams like you, no really. Just much less touchy feely. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny. On an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone. Surrounded by enormous piles of money.” He senses there’s something off in his life, something is missing. But he mistakenly believes this missing piece is money, which will allow him to buy a lonely island, where he can live out his days as Flynn and no one will ever know Eugene. 

Need: “All those days chasing down a daydream. All those years living in a blur. All that time never truly seeing, things the way they were. Now she’s here, shining in the starlight. Now she’s here, suddenly I know. If she’s here, it’s crystal clear, I’m where I’m meant to go.” He wants a crown … he needs to fall in love with Rapunzel. He needs to love something more than himself, and find out that love isn’t something to fear and push away. He needs to abandon the 'Tales of Flynnagin Rider’ ambition, and get a more worthwhile, new dream. 

Ghost: The source of all of his weaknesses can be linked to his “little bit of a downer” childhood as an orphan. Interestingly, he isn’t aware of another facet of that ghost, and Rapunzel points it out to him. “Was he a thief too?” she asks. He looks taken aback, before answering “Uh, no.” Something’s gone wrong. The choices he’s making are not living up to that original role model.  

Characterization: Flynn’s charming, funny, smart, charismatic, and arrogant (in a somehow charming sort of way). He’s also rude, contemptuous, and sarcastic. All traits that help him keep up that 'swashbuckling rogue’ facade, and push people away from the real him. 

True Character: Underneath all that, he’s a Disney prince. That pretty much sums it up.  

Changed Person: “Started going by Eugene again, stopped thieving, and basically turned it all around.” He started the story as the guarded and evasive Flynn, he ends as the selfless and thoroughly-in-love Eugene. 

Fascination and Illumination: Imagine if everything about Flynn had been told, right up front. We know he’s an orphan, we know he’s upheld a fake reputation, we know he’s a kind and loving guy underneath it all, we even know about his “tales of Flynnagin” childhood dream. You know what happens? We like him … but we’re not interested in him. There’s nothing we need to find out. There’s no curiosity. And if there’s no curiosity, and nothing being illuminated, your story’s not going anywhere. So instead, we find out – alongside Rapunzel – more about Flynn as the story progresses. And that is how it should be. 

So!

Developing characters in this way, I’ve found, really reduces worries about how “well-rounded” and three dimensional I’ve made them. They feel real to me. And besides helping me create characters, this ten element technique has also let me analyze characters I like, which is strangely fun. It’s a great way to figure out why a character works, what causes them to be so effective, and how you can go about creating them yourself. 

Yeah, I’m a bit of a nerd. 

But if you want, try it out. Develop a character. Analyze a character. You might find it as useful/fun as I do.

I’m tired of being sad and having no clue as to why I am this way, so I’ll write about the happy bits of me and why I smile. I dance when I’m alone, when the music gets just right and I’m sure that no one is watching, it’s okay to feel lonely, I used to not like the idea of it, but once you’re comfortable in your own skin even depression starts to feel like a breeze. I’m reading a book that says we are the beliefs and thoughts that we think and believe in. So if I say that I’m happy a thousand times, one of those will come back as true. So if I say I’ll find the love of my life some day, some day she’ll appear in front of me while I’m writing another poem. It’s good to have goals, the only goal I’ve ever had up until recently was to keep myself happy with someone else, that’s not a goal, but an illusion. You can’t live your life for someone else, it’s called your life for a reason. Happiness must happen when I say so, so I’m saying so. We bring into this world the kind of kindness that we’ve been dealt, so when I fake a smile, my mother is omnipresent. Although it’s not real, fake it until you make it, right? The book also says, spend more time doing things that make you lose track of time, so I decided to write again and more often than not, to not compare myself to others because once you start doing that, there’s no going back. I don’t write like someone else, I write like myself. I don’t think like anyone that I know, there’s just you and the beautifully twisted world, we’re all trying to find redemption inside of coral skies and trustworthy friends. I would break my own hand to contain my anger, it is contained. Happiness is what we make it, so if I say that it exists, then it will be so. Listening to your guidance, that makes me happy. You know who you are. Breathless to the words, you paint the sunrise with your pinky and promise that as long as I’m here today, tomorrow will not be filled with sorrow. I keep writing letters to the future person that I will be, I wonder if I’ll change. I probably will, we all do in one way or another. I’m the kind of person that snaps a picture of the sky while I’m driving, I’m reckless, but we’re still alive. Life’s too short and I need to be more careful, I’m certain that death has given up a few passes for me. Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time? Like there’s something trying to make a statement, a lost word that even google couldn’t even get its hands on. Do you ever feel like no one’s really listening? We’re all selfish in the end, but the ones that truly listen– they are the ones that I live for. I maintain online friendships better than I do with my siblings, I guess our thinking is just on different frequencies. On the topic of frequencies– the you that you would like to be is out there, you just need to listen. Hear the right words said by the right person and you’ll be in the right spot to be the you that you’d want to be in this life. Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Remember that thing I said about thoughts? Sometimes we just need to let go a little bit, embrace the art of it. To be left to the wind, the unknown will bring us to more adventures and you may not be loved by many, but there’s a chance that you will be– why not take it? I would like to break out of this, I want to smile more and to laugh a little louder, I just want to make myself proud of who I will be versus who I used to be. And you can’t turn back the hands of time, you cannot change your mistakes– they are permanent, but you are not. There is a fire inside of your chest and if you keep suffocating yourself with an indescribable pain then you’ll only suffer in a incomprehensible way. I just want to fill this world with more love and less pain, I see a butterfly and I’m easily distracted– how beauty will fly past you if you’re not even paying attention because you’re so damn sad all of the time. So I drop all signs of negativity and lean towards the positive, I am the only vibe that’ll alter my moods, so I must feel more wealthy than a million silver spoons even if I don’t have any, so I must create the art that likes to spill from my fingertips, we live such short lives– why not be the best version of yourself? Who will you be if tomorrow was your last day on this planet? Will you cry because it’s over? Or will you search the ends of the earth until you’ve found the fountain of youth? I’ve got a secret to share with you. You can be a 100 years old and still have the sweetest smile, you can be in your 20s and have a soul heavy enough to sink the titanic, life is strange, life is strange. We live our youth to buy pretty things, but live our oak days trying to make up more time– it waits for no one, the wrong turn will break you, a simple kiss will turn your thoughts into poetry and a life of self-hate is a road that needs constant validation– why not be your own way out? Be your own lover, be your own brand of music, be your own kind of poem, be your own story of kindness, and if you’re not perfect just look around– nobody is. I’m tired of dreaming, I want to build it instead. You can’t be who you want to be if you’re still having the same thoughts from last year– you can’t change or heal in the right way if you’re not willing to break a few pieces of your heart because the clutter inside of our minds often match the attitude that we give off. So like a quote, so like a poem, so like a bedtime story. If I repeat it enough times, I’ll be happy. I just want to be happy. I just want to let go of the bad feelings. I just want to love myself enough to see a brighter day. You can’t change the world if you can’t even change yourself, right? If I repeat it enough times, then it must be real. I will be happy. Sadness is a crucial emotion because without it, being delighted and euphoric wouldn’t be so dense, but that’s the beauty of the intensity to which we should love ourselves. I want to be so fucking glad to wake up today that it’ll just drown my depression into the white noise. I want to glow in the dark and live like the jellyfishes, give my poetry the immortality to always bring a smile onto the faces of those that love who I am even if I’m a bit flawed because at the end of the day– you’re the only one sleeping on your bed, you’re the only one who’s going to determine if you’ve got enough room to breathe, you’re the only one to have the last say if you’re art or not.
—  I wanted to write something happy for you–
yes, you. The person that’s reading this.
{PART 21} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Just when you thought your night couldn’t possibly become any more heartbreaking; the man you thought you knew turns out to be something you had only ever considered to exist within the realms of nightmares and folklore.

“Perhaps, he didn’t want to be understood, so much as he wanted to be loved. His truth would set her free, but the question remained; would she stay?”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} // {Part 20} {Part 21} {Part 22}

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potential angst starters
  • “please don’t forget”
  • “you know you should have stayed”
  • “you’re cold on the inside”
  • “there’s a dog in your heart and it tells you to tear everything apart”
  • “you ruin everything you touch and destroy anyone you love”
  • “i know that you can’t hear me anymore”
  • “it’s so loud inside my head”
  • “i haven’t been all that you could have hoped for”
  • “if you held on a little longer, you would have more reasons to be proud”
  • “i talk to the shadows hoping you might be listening”
  • “how can i say this without breaking?”
  • “i loved and i lost you”
  • “i don’t want them to know the way i loved you”
  • “i don’t think they would accept me”
  • “your heart fits like a key”
  • “it’s so quiet here”
  • “you said that you weren’t alone”
  • “you still owe me a reason”
  • “i act like i don’t fucking care”
  • “maybe you’re too good for me”
  • “lately colors seem so bright”
  • “i can’t admit that you’ve got all the strings and know how to tug them”
  • “losing you was something i always did so well”
  • “i don’t do anything anymore”
  • “sorry, i nearly lost my head”
  • “this feeling i dread, it makes me wish i was dead”
  • “i’ll be alone instead, i don’t need anyone in this bed”
  • “i come home on my own”
  • “i don’t care if i don’t look pretty”
  • “big girls cry when their hearts are breaking”
  • “i’m in pain”
  • “she gives me toothaches just from kissing me”
  • “i didn’t care much how long i lived”
  • “heaven and hell were words to me”
  • “i need to feel your hands upon my face”
  • “words can be like knives. they can cut you open”
  • “i think i might have inhaled you”
  • “i can feel you flowing in me”
  • “i miss you more than i thought i would”
  • “i never meant to start a fire. i never meant to make you bleed”
  • “i’ll love the world like i should”
  • “the blood on my hands scares me to death”
  • “you took a chance and you took a fall for us”
  • “my love, look what you can do”
  • “i know in peace you’ll go. i hope relief is yours”
  • “was i selfish again? well, i can’t help that”
  • “i pour my heart out on the ice and everyone’s watching but you”
  • “i can’t see you, you can’t see me”
  • “everybody’s watching but you, and i don’t think i want them to”
  • “there’s a bitter storm inside of me”
  • “i do it all for you”
  • “it’s all gone to shit, it’s out of our hands”
  • “if you’re searching for us, you’ll find us side by side”
  • “as long as we’re going down, baby you should stick around”
  • “does any of this love exist or is this just a fire keeping out the cold?”
  • “memories never lie”
  • “tell me that i’m right”
  • “your tired, unfamiliar face says it all”
  • “even though we all grow old, love will never die”
  • “that was long ago”
  • “i used to call you my own, my dear”
  • “now you’re lost and i am drunk alone”
  • “when you said your last goodbye, i died a little bit inside”
  • “if you loved me, why’d you leave me?”
  • “our love was made for movie screens”
  • “i tried to be someone else for you”
  • “i thought that i loved you, but we weren’t love”
  • “there was something that was not there”
  • “i can sleep forever these days”
  • “i believe in anything that brings you back home to me”
  • “there is no distraction to mask what is real”
  • “now you’ll be missing from the photographs”
  • “in my thoughts, you’re far away”
  • “i can picture you so easily”
  • “what’s gonna be left the world if you’re not in it?”
  • “every minute of every hour, i miss you more”
  • “it’s such a shame we have to see them burn”
  • “i’ve lost control of all of my senses”
  • “put me in my place”
  • “i can’t help but think of you”
  • “it’s always been just you and me”
  • “and i’ll hold in these hands all that remains”
  • “i don’t want to rest in peace, i’d rather be the ghost that annoys you”
  • “hold me in your arms”
  • “don’t listen to your friends, they only care once in a while”
  • “it’s pulling me back”
  • “when you go home, everything looks different”
  • “i wish you would tell me how you really feel”
  • “when you leave me, you take away everything”
  • “that’s not our deal”
  • “i want you so much”
  • “i want to go back to the first time, the first place”
  • “my heart is open like a door, but i don’t trust you like before”
  • “you came and took me by surprise”
  • “maybe one day you’ll be the one, but until then…”
  • “now i’m fucked up and i’m missing you”
  • “please just look me in my face and tell me everything’s okay”
  • “i’ll never be like you”
  • “absolve me of my sins, won’t you?”
  • “it hurts me everytime i see you”
  • “i hate that i love you”
  • “you want her, you need her, and i’ll never be her”
  • “do you miss me like i miss you?”
  • “wedding bells were just alarms”
  • “you said you wouldn’t but you fucking did”
  • “i guess this is moving on”
  • “you don’t care, you never did”
  • “you don’t give a damn about me”
  • “you’re only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope”
  • “if you’re looking for love, know that love don’t live here anymore”
  • “i don’t want to see you go, i just want to see you smile”
  • “tell me that now is not the end”
  • “if you’re trying to find pity, then you need to look somewhere else”
  • “i’m a first class let down”
  • “how did it come to this?”
  • “love is a polaroid- better in picture but never can fill the void”
  • “if it’s broken then it can be fixed”
  • “all you need is time”
  • “we promised the world we’d tame it”
  • “i wonder what keeps us so high up”
  • “could there be a love beneath these wings?”

What’s up, it’s Alexei!

When Ngozi posted this picture yesterday of young post-draft Tater “trying his darnedest to answer press questions in English,” I thought, “You know, I could make a play fic out of that.” Which is what led to the following 2700+ words about Tater and his ESL tutor.

Many, many thanks to @ktheunready for being my Russian authenticity consultant and beta!


Georgia Martin stood at the back of the media scrum and watched Alexei Mashkov stumble his way through his post-draft interview, saw the way his fingers kneaded the brim of the brand-new Falconers’ cap he’d been handed for the initial official photos, saw the way his eyes widened and stayed intently glued to whoever was asking him a question, like he was afraid he’d miss some key bit of meaning if he blinked.

She pulled out her phone and made a call.

***

«No, Mama, I promise, my room is very nice. The family is very nice. Everything is very…»

«Let me guess, nice? »

Alexei sighed. «Yes.»

«You know I don’t doubt you, right, Alyosha? I’m not worried you can’t do this. You will be fine. But I know this is your first time to live in another country, with none of the boys from your teams here. It can be… hard, sometimes. I know.»

«Yeah, Mama, I know. You told me.»

«Are you telling me you’ve heard the stories of my youth too many times?» she asked in mock outrage.

«No, no!» he laughed. «Of course not.»

«Good. I should think not.» He could picture her face exactly, and it made him smile. «I’m glad your host family seems nice, Alyosha. I’m sure you will have many friends in no time.»

He flopped back on the bed again and stared at the ceiling. «I hope so.»

«We’ll talk again soon. Love you, son.»

«Love you, too.»

He hung up and let his phone rest on his chest. He’d been to America before. He’d thought he’d known what it would be like, that it wouldn’t be so bad. Different, yes, but there would be so many interesting new things to see, and new teammates, and he certainly knew how to play hockey. What he had failed to take into account, apparently, was how exhausting it was to try to function in English all day. For a US hockey team, the Falconers’ roster was shockingly low on Russian players, so his host family was one of the French Canadian ones. To their credit, they did speak some Russian, but it was hardly enough to have a real conversation. Alexei felt like he’d been practically mute all day.

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Langst Headcanon

Soo, I’m really new to the fandom but when I discoverd the Langst Tag, I was surprised by how much I needed it! There are soooo many good langst things out here. Well, this is my share:

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Terror.

Pure unadulterated terror courses through Alec’s veins the moment the institute lights up with heavenly light.

He books it towards the op centre, running faster than he ever has in his entire life (without the help of a speed rune, anyway) and skitters to a halt at the sight of the dead downworlders that cover the floor.

“No…”

He steps through them gingerly, glancing around as he recognises seelies and werewolves, before looking up at his parabatai; Clary and Simon right behind him.

He barely hears what any of them are saying, too distracted by Jace’s distraught expression, the sudden fear and oh god, where’s Magnus?

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Adored by Him

A/N: So this fic is inspired by the song “Adored by Him” by Dodie Clark. Yeah that’s really it… 

Warnings: Swearing but that’s normal.

Word Count: 2, 428

Your POV 

I honestly never expected any of this to happen. When I became friends with Dan, I did think he was handsome and funny. But I didn’t think I would fall for him as fast as I did. I always pushed away the feelings until they asked if I wanted to move in with them. Being around him 24/7 made it harder to conceal it so I just let it happen. No one knew about my feelings, except Phil, who figured out a year ago. I always expected the feelings to just go away but they didn’t.

But then she happened. Allison was Dan’s most recent girlfriend. They’ve been dating for many months now, and he was absolutely smitten (cheeky Dodie reference again) with her. He never spoke about how he felt about her, but I was able to tell. The way he looked at her with adoring eyes, and smile at the mere mention of her name. I don’t blame him though. She was beautiful, with her butterscotch hair and her smile that could shine brighter than the sun, I bet anybody would fall her easily. She was literally perfect, and I was just…well me. It was easy to figure out how she made Dan’s soul practically glow, and it hurt. A lot.  

I won’t hate you but oh it stings,

How does it feel to be adored by him? 

It was hard to hate Allison. She was super nice, and had the same sense of humor as Dan. Plus, she makes him happy. That’s what matters, right?


I was sitting on the couch, watching my favorite movie with Phil. It was raining outside so we decided to dedicate the day to watching a bunch of movies. Phil and I were cuddled up under a blanket, eating popcorn. It was relaxing to say the least. Dan was out at Allison’s house so, of course, Phil questioned me about my feelings.

“Are you ever going to tell him, Y/N?” Phil asked, nudging my arm with his elbow.

I pulled up the blanket to my chest, and sighed heavily. “Philly we’ve talked about this before. I’ll only ruin things so-" 

"You should tell him. It’s best to get it out there.” Phil gave me a sympathetic look. It’s like he knew Dan wouldn’t return the feelings but he didn’t want to keep any secrets. To be honest I’m surprised he didn’t tell Dan by now. 

“Phil, look-”

Phil and I jumped off the couch when we heard a loud bang, and stumbling coming from downstairs. We exchanged confused glances, and hurried to the front door to see Dan, stumbling around the entrance of our flat.

“Hi guys!” Dan said, his speech slurred.

“Dan what the hell happened!?” Phil questioned, running up to his best friend’s side and helping him take his shoes off. 

“Heh, Allison and I got in a fight. Stupid really-” He tripped over his shoes that he just took off and laughed. He looked up into my eyes and smiled. “Don’t worry I’m fine.” Dan pushed Phil’s hand off his shoulder, and walked up the stairs by himself.

“Y/N, do you want to make sure he’s okay?” Phil asked, walking up to my side as we slowly followed Dan up the stairs.

“Why?”

“Just talk to him." 

I let out another sigh, and took another glance at Dan, who stumbled into his bedroom. "Okay. I’m not telling drunk Dan anything though.” I pointed my finger at Phil, and let out a small laugh to lighten the mood. Phil shook his head, smacking my hand away and smiling.

“Just go.” He laughed. 

I walked to the kitchen, and poured a small glass of water for Dan. I ignored the aching pain in my chest, and the tears swelling up in my eyes. I put down the glass for a moment to take a deep breath, and recollect myself. After a few minutes, I made my way towards Dan’s room where I saw him softly crying. My heart broke at the sight. It pained me so much to see another girl make Dan hurt. I hated it. I walked towards Dan’s bed and gave him the glass of water. 

“Here you go, sweetie.” I sat at the end of his bed, waiting for his response. 

“Thank you.” Dan sniffed, taking a sip of the water. 

“You want to talk about what happened?” I moved closer to him. His legs were hanging over the edge of his bed and he was staring at the cup of water in his lap.

“She doesn’t trust me.”  

“What do you mean?” I was right by his side after I finished the question. I tried to make eye contact with him but he was so closed off, I decided to keep a little distance.

“She thinks that I’m cheating on her with you.” He lifted his head slowly and stared into my eyes. My face turned red and I stared at the ground. I felt the butterflies in my stomach go crazy, and I had to take a deep breath again to calm myself down. I looked back into his beautiful, chocolate eyes and stared in silence for a while.  

Pretty girl there’s no need to fret

Because it’s midnight, he’s drunk, and you’re the one in his head.

You don’t even have to try at all. 

“I can’t say I’m in love with her but I feel something…strong towards her you know? I’m not even sure if she feels the same. It’s just- It hurts a lot that she doesn’t even trust me. ” Dan’s eyes got glossy, and he stared down at his cup again. All I did was nod my head. I understood where he was coming from. Someone you may be in love with and they might not even return the feeling. How ironic. 

“I understand, Dan. But you should get some rest, then talk to her in the morning.” I flashed a fake smile at Dan and stood up from his bed. I stood in front of him, and he stared into my eyes like he was searching for something.

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re honestly the best.” Dan put his glass down on his bedside table and got up to give me hug. I accepted it, taking in his warmth for that short moment I had. I sighed when he pulled away and sat in his bed. “You want to…stay with me for a bit?” He asked, not making eye contact. I gave him a weak smile, and nodded, sitting next to him as he got comfortable underneath the blanket.

I lost track of time, waiting for Dan to fall asleep. I stared at his sleeping figure for god knows how long, I felt like a complete creep. He looked so peaceful with his head resting in my lap it was hard not to. I gently stroked his hair as he slowly fell asleep, his arms wrapped around my body as his head rested on my leg. I checked the time on his phone, 1:00 am. I noticed his lock screen, expecting it to be a picture of him and Allison. But instead it was a picture of him, me, and Phil at VidCon on our day off. I smiled at it, but quickly my smile faded when a text from Allison popped up. I decided to ignore it, and finally leave Dan’s side. 

I crept towards the kitchen, hoping not to wake Dan or Phil up. However, to my surprise Phil was standing in the kitchen, drinking some tea while leaning against the counter. 

“So, how did it go?” He asked, staring at me. 

“She doesn’t trust him apparently. Allison thinks he’s cheating on her with…me.” I sighed. All my emotions that I’ve been holding in all night were surfacing, and I wasn’t going to let it happen. “Um, he’s asleep now. He asked me to stay with him for a little while and I lost track of time because he was…uh-" 

"Cuddling with you?” Phil flashed me a smile, but it faded when he looked into my eyes and noticed the tears coming up. He gave me a sympathetic look and walked closer to me. “You should just tell him so he knows. So you don’t have to keep hurting. He will understand, Y/N." 

"I know Phil. It’s just- it hurts seeing them together so much. And of course I want him to be happy! But that selfish part of me wants him to be happy with me. God, it fucking hurts.” I felt a warm streak roll down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away, looking away from Phil. 

“Y/N.” I knew he was trying to make me look at him, but I hated being this vulnerable. “Y/N.” I gave in and stared into Phil’s icy blue eyes. It was full of sympathy, and I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Phil, don’t look at me like that please. It’s only making me feel worse.” I felt more tears surfacing and let out a heavy sigh. I heard Phil mumble a small apology and he embraced me in a warm, loving hug. At that point I finally broke. I started sobbing into his shirt, with every sob he would hold me tighter, and tell me everything was going to be okay. He gently ran his hands through my hair. I pulled away from Phil, and sniffed, gently rubbing my nose. 

“Y/N, I know it hurts but-” Phil paused in the middle of his sentence and stared behind me. I looked up to Phil, then turned around to see what he was looking at. There was Dan, his hair curly and disheveled, and his empty glass in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Dan asked, noticing my red, puffy eyes and the tear stains on Phil’s shirt. He looked into my eyes and I could tell he was concerned.

“N-Nothing.” I lied.

“Obviously there’s something wrong, Y/N, tell me.” Dan walked over to the counter and placed his cup on the surface. I looked up to Phil, and nodded, signaling for him to give us some alone time. When Phil left the room, Dan pulled me into a tight hug, and for the second time that night I broke down. “Want to talk to me about what happened?”

I pulled away from Dan and stared at the floor. “It’s not really about w-what happened. It’s more…what’s happening.” I let out a fake chuckle. Dan shot me a confused look, and backed up to lean against the counter.

“Tell me what’s going on or so help me god Y/N I will-”

“Okay. Um. I guess.”

“Spit it out, please.” Dan tilted his head, giving me a worried look. God I can’t handle this anymore.

“Okay, you don’t even have to respond to this…but I really need it out in the open.” I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, and I took deep unsteady breath. “I just need you to know that…that” I stared into Dan’s eyes and I could feel my heart aching all over again. I felt tears pouring out of my eyes and saw Dan’s tall figure making his way over to comfort me again but I pulled away.

“Please don’t. You’re just going to make this harder.”
“Y/N tell me. Please, you’re making me worried.” I realized that Dan and I were standing really close, closer than we usually are. I looked into his beautiful eyes like it was the last time then stared at the floor.

“I think I’m in love with you.” I mumbled. 

“What? Speak up, love.” Dan said softly. 

“Fuck.” I ran my fingers through my hair and avoided eye contact at all costs. “I think I’m in love with you and it fucking stings so much to see you and Allison together. I mean I don’t blame you, or her. Allison is like the definition of perfect. I mean she makes me look blind with how adventurous she is and you look at her like the world is fucking perfect. It’s so stupid to think that I could compare to her. But god, do I wish it was me in your arms instead of her. Don’t even get me started about how I feel about you because there is too much history to even go over.” I shook my head, staring at the ground, watching my tears hit the white kitchen tiles.

“Y/N, can you look at me please?” Dan was still speaking softly. 

“Dan I told you, you don’t have to even say anything. You could just simply ignore it and leave, I’ll get the point." 

"Look at me, Y/N.” Dan said, more stern but still full of care. I rolled my eyes and stared into his eyes. Even though my vision was blurred I could still see the small glimmer in his eyes. “I’m sorry for-”

“Dan I told you, you don’t have to do this." 

"Y/N, we need to talk about this. We can’t just ignore it.”

“Well I’ve been ignoring it for 3 years now, so I think I’m good. I know the speech you’re about to give me and I just…” I let out a muffled sob into my hand, and looked back up to him. “Please I can’t take this right now." 

"Please let me just-" 

"Dan, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said anything. I really need fresh air…I’ll be back in a bit." 

Dan looked over to the clock on the oven, and slowly moved towards the door. "It’s 1:20, Y/N you can’t go outside alone." 

"Well I am, so please move.” Dan was blocking the doorway. I made eye contact with him and got lost in his eyes again. I felt like time slowed down when we stared into each other’s eyes, but I broke the contact because I felt more tears coming. Dan reluctantly walked up to me, opening his arms to give me a hug. But instead, I pulled away from him. 

“I’m so sorry.” I mumbled, and ran down the stairs to the front door, putting on my shoes and coat. 

“Y/N wait-”

I left before I could hear anymore. I let the cold London air enter my lungs, as I tried to relax from what happened, and trying to decide if I should go back and face Dan, or go to a friend’s house. I ultimately decided on staying outside for a while. Sitting on a park bench staring at the trees in the park as I replayed what happened through my head. 

What am I going to do?

A/N: Second part? Or leave it there? YOU DECIDE

Writing Is Hard

Summary: Dean finds the blog you use to read smutty fan fiction. And of course, he decides he can write a better story about himself. You help.

Warning: Smut, some dirty talk, mutual masturbation, all kinds of fan fiction clichés

Word Count: 4350

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. And thanks to @littlegreenplasticsoldier​ for being a great beta and being generally flawless. Hope you enjoy! XOXO


No. This isn’t happening.

This is one of those moments you’d had weird nightmares about, dreams that left you embarrassed and feeling all icky the next day until you finally convinced yourself that it wasn’t real. And just like those moments, this one will end any second now. You’ll wake up in some motel bed, Dean will be in the next room with Sam, asleep or showering or eating or anything but standing over your laptop with that look on his face.

Keep reading

A mystery herself

A/N: Heeey so I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted any writing so I’m very nervous about this one. It’s my first Jughead imagine ever, so I hope you like it and if you’d want a part 2, let me know. I already have some idea for a continuation ;)

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.825 


Originally posted by riverrdxle

She walked in like a midsummer breeze, swaying and changing the course of everything under the sun. She perturbed the usually sober times of Riverdale.

And it annoyed Jughead Jones to no end.


(Y/N) didn’t feel good. Her bitter nerves slowly morphed into a nauseous tension which took over her stomach. From the first moment she placed her foot onto the grounds of her new school, the air seemed to change drastically. And she wasn’t the only one who seemed to notice the thick, static-like uneasiness in the air. They all stared at her. Every single pair of eyes fixed her face, supposedly searching for a familiar feature.

Did everybody know everybody in this damn village?

Apparently so.

(Y/N) tried to avoid direct eye contact, although she kept her head high as she walked.

But as she reached the backyard of Riverdale High, her breath hitched in her throat. Releasing a strangled huff as she came to a sudden stop, she gripped the strip of her bag tighter between her long, shaky fingers and replaced it further on her shoulder. A sea of students was laying before her frozen figure, hundreds of eyes piercing her skull and rummaging through her mind.

(Y/N) sighed deeply and swallowed the tight lump in her throat, before urging her unsteady feet to move forward, slicing right through the yard filled with students. She held a confident pace in her step, although the heart burned by a mocking fire threatened to burst out of her chest at any moment.  

It was going to be a long day.


She didn’t expect to find herself into such a place so soon. She didn’t expect to place a single foot inside it at all, actually.

(Y/N) stood in the doorway of what seemed to be a fast food. Pop’s was filled with students which crowded the booths around the powerfully lit dine. Their loud voices travelled across the room, hitting walls and piercing (Y/N)’s ears. It was all too noisy and crowded in there for her liking, and if wasn’t for the frozen water droplets which bit at her exposed skin, she wouldn’t have been there in the first place. Not now, at least. But there was no other choice, was it?

She stole a quick glance outside and felt her eyebrows lower, urging her lids to shield her eyes more than they already had. A sharp breath passed her lips and she adjusted the strip of her bag on her shoulder once again, before scanning the room rapidly.

A mild grimace crossed her features as she acknowledged the only free spot in the entire room. It was an isolated booth, occupied by a boy she recognised briefly. A picture of their eyes connecting during classes flashed through her brain.

Lonely, raven locks hanged loosely across his forehead, narrowed eyes mirrored the shining words written on the screen of his laptop and lips pressed together tightly into a straight line.

And, of course, a grey beanie covered his head, shielding him and making him impossible to ignore at the same time.

Jughead Jones.

(Y/N) was going to sit next to Jughead Jones.

Gathering the last bit of courage in her body, (Y/N) approached his table sheepishly, her hands shoved deeply inside her pockets and her eyes wide with anticipation. Swallowing the bitter lump in her throat, she let the words drift off her tongue.

“Um- excuse me?”

His eyes snapped towards her almost instantly and (Y/N) struggled to keep herself from flinching at the sharp look she received.

“Would you mind if I sit down? It’s all crowded in here, and outside it’s raining, so I can’t actually go-”

“Fine.” he replied shortly, before his stare returned to the screen of his laptop and his fingers began typing vigorously.

(Y/N)’s chest fell as she exhaled with relief and gingerly slid into the seat opposite from the boy.

She quickly took out a pencil, a small notebook and a pair of headphones, which she connected to her phone. Gathering her bag close, she shrunk deeper into the corner near the window and leaned her head against the cold glass. She closed her eyes for a brief second, letting a soft sigh escape her lips and basking in the cool sensation which spread through her temple, before tilting her head and scribbling down a few words on the paper.

Soon enough, the words began flowing inside her head, filling her with a familiar sensation of assurance. The pen left black marks onto the white sheet and while she filled pages after pages with thoughts and drawings, a silvery, rhythmic murmur began dripping from her lips.

With a brief tilt of her head, her eyes slowly travelled towards the raven haired boy. She felt herself freeze when her eyes locked with his.  


He had been watching her all along. From the first damned moment she entered Pop’s, all uncertain and awkward, to when she leaned her head against the window and began bloody singing.

The sound of her silvery voice and the continuous scribbling of her pencil on the paper kept him from his writing.

For a reason he didn’t know, her presence made his chest constrict with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe. Uneasiness seemed a poor choice of words, but it was the closest to what he was experiencing of them all. The nerves bubbled up inside his stomach, probably waiting for the perfect moment to burst.

At first, when she showed up next to him and asked if she could sit down, he thought ignoring her would be easy. But he was so… fucking wrong.

He remembered her. From the moment he caught her Y/E/C eyes, he remembered. Seeing them in every class that day, seeking for them whenever she wasn’t there. He remembered the shy smile she gave when the teacher presented her to the rest of the class. He remembered the gleam in her eyes during Psychology, when they talked about human rights and abstract concepts like love. He remembered the burning passion in her voice and the intelligence which shined through her actions and thoughts.

He remembered all of her, and it seemed like a curse.

Fuck…  

She was probably the most distracting person he’d ever seen in his entire life.

The way she bit her lip in thought, or the way she hummed contently when a phrase she liked came up to her mind. It was all too fascinating for Jughead, a concept he couldn’t understand. The way her hair fell into her face and the way she just didn’t bother to push it away made him boil with the urge to brush it to the side with a gentle touch.

Even though it started with secret glances he stole at her crunched figure, he just found his eyes and brain wanting more, to return to the sight of her face. So, after a while, he just gave up on his tentatives of writing and focused on her entirely.

Jughead stared at her. At how her expressions changed with a flash, at the soft smile which warmed her lips from time to time, followed by a private sigh, and at her piercing, radiating eyes, which stared off into the lonely distance.

It felt… strange. Strange and highly inappropriate, he thought of a better label for his odd interest in the girl.

She was new to this town. That was her first day in a new school, with new people and different surroundings. She was a stranger to him, a girl he’d just seen around for a few hours, before she came to Pop’s, where she sat down in front of him.

Why had he said yes in the first place?

Jughead clenched his jaw and felt his fingers curl in annoyance.

It was an understatement to say he was confused… and pissed. Maybe a little bit at her, because she was so damn captivating and enchanting and just… different from all the girls he’d seen. But mainly at him, for taking such an interest in her, for his sudden change. He felt like the wall of ignorance and cold feelings he managed to build over the years was now crumbling down… because of one person.

(Y/N).

She made his temper falter slightly, just by… existing. And being there, present, sitting next to him, and murmuring so beautifully it made him grimace.

She acted so natural. So… carefree and oblivious. She seemed lost to this world, caught between the walls of her own mind, enchanted into a dance with her own thoughts…

He was still staring. Probably more intently, by now.

Shit…  

Was it even healthy? 

Probably not.   

And that made a crisp, thin feeling of fear creep into his soul, tickling the sides of his shielded heart and sending shivers down his spine.

But a sudden change into his view seemed to snap Jughead out of his trance. 

He found himself staring into (Y/E/C) orbs, which watched back with surprise. He quickly came to acknowledge all of her figure, his gaze shifting from her eyes, and shook his head slightly. 

He returned to the screen of his laptop, a pale blush warming his cheeks, hoping she’d go back to writing just as well. But he could feel her stare piercing through his head and lurking through his mind. He heard a ruffling noise as Y/N changed her position so she was facing him properly.

“You’re blushing” a soft voice rang inside his ears.


(Y/N) couldn’t help it. She didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it just slipped off her tongue.

The sight of the turbulent feelings which swam inside his eyes tickled her interest. They held a blurry surface, like a broken mirror, so no one could see inside.

(Y/N) felt intrigued in an odd way by the boy beside her.

Aside from the fact that he was damn right staring at her, she found it strange that he immediately looked away. She didn’t expect Jughead to be so… sensitive, she might say. Let alone to see him blush.

(Y/N) shifted again, placing her bag down from her lap and leaning forward a little bit to peer at the boy. The sight of his red cheeks and embarrassed expression sent her lips into a smirk.

He continued to stare at the screen of his laptop for a few moments, before finally turning his attention to her.

She smiled tenderly in his direction and he felt something melt inside him.

Shaking her head at his silence, (Y/N) withdrew her hand.

“I’m (Y/N)” she said.

Jughead’s eyes flickered towards her hand suspiciously and his stare narrowed. It took a raise of her eyebrows for him to finally shake her hand.

“Jughead” he shortly introduced himself.

A heavy silence followed their handshake. (Y/N)’s smile faded slowly, her lips pressed now in a tight line. She shielded her eyes, gaze falling to her lap and began fiddling with her fingers in an attempt to calm the fire of her cheeks.

Jughead, though, he continued to watch her with thin eyes and furrowed eyebrows. The corners of his lips twitched slightly at her bashful blushing.

“So…” he cleared his throat, an awkward expression visible on his face.

(Y/N) tilted her head to peer at him with interest.

“Seems like we’re going to stay in here for a while” he gestured to the pouring rain outside.

She absently nodded her head, her gaze drifting off to the window and watched as big drops of water slid down the window.

“You seem to like writing”

She blinked, making Jughead raise an eyebrow.

“Am I right?”

“Actually, yes, I do like writing, but it’s…”

She trailed off, with a look like she said too much, but Jughead just raised his eyebrows with curiosity, urging her to tell him more.

“It’s not a book, or something… They’re just random musings I have during a day, or just scattered thoughts I manage to catch from time to time. This is mainly filled with drawings” she held her notebook up “but, recently, I began writing very much in it”

Jughead’s features shifted with surprise.

“So you’re drawing too?”

“I’m not that good at it… but yeah. I just feel like… anything I describe in words is kind of incomplete without a drawing, and every drawing needs a few feelings on mine scribbled down next to it”  

Jughead opened his mouth to ask a question, but shut it quickly, seeming undecided on what to do.

But (Y/N) looked at him expectantly, arching one eyebrow.

“Can I… possibly take a look? Painters and artists like you intrigue me. I can’t understand how you create such masterpieces with just a crayon”

She seemed to consider his words for a moment, before she reached out to hand him the notebook. His finger brushed against hers and (Y/N) fought a strangled gasp from passing her lips, as an electric wave shot through her body.

Jughead took his time to open the notebook and look at her drawings and writing. He admired every single page. She was indeed talented, not only at drawing, but at writing too. Every single word touched his heart. She knew how to leave an impact on the reader, and take them into her mind, make them feel everything she writes and thinks.

Jughead couldn’t help but be impressed.

As his eyes focused on the next page, he felt his chest constrict. There, on the white paper, was his face, drawn with such precision he thought it was an actual picture of him.

At first, he frowned in disbelief.

“Do you draw people often?”

“Only those who attract me” (Y/N) replied with a distant voice, her nose buried into a book this time.

A wide, soft smile warmed his lips and a strange feeling filled his stomach. Jughead didn’t know how to describe it, but again, it was about (Y/N). She was a mystery herself, for that matter.

He closed the notebook slowly, then placed it on the table, in front of her.

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped up and, closing her book, she carefully focused her attention back to Jughead.

“So, you find me attractive, huh?” he smirked smugly at her, leaning in so he could take a better view at her expression.

She stared at him for a moment, before all the blood drained from her face. Her mouth fell open in horror and a ghostly gasp escaped her lips, but actual words refused to come out.

Jughead spluttered with laughter at the sight of her mortified expression.

Even though she gave him a sour face, (Y/N) quietly decided she wanted to hear him laugh like that again.

“I didn’t realise that was you. It was just an image which was stuck into my head all day, so-”

But she stopped herself short, realising what slipped past her lips. She mentally face palmed for being so stupid.

He smiled at her mistake, biting his lip to keep the laugh from erupting again.

(Y/N) decided to look outside once again, secretly wishing Jughead haven’t seen her embarrassed blush.

She frowned at the sight which took over her view. It wasn’t raining anymore. She could finally go home.

Although… she kind of liked Jughead’s company.

With a sigh, she grabbed her stuff and placed it back into her bag, before turning to Jughead. He was watching her with confused eyes.

“Are you leaving already?”

(Y/N) smiled softly at him, before gesturing to the window.

“The rain stopped. I have to go home”

His face fell with disappointment for a second, before a crooked smile lifted the corers of his mouth.

“Well, I’ll see you at school, then?”

Even though it was supposed to be a statement, it came out more like a question.

“Sure” she replied, placing her bag onto her shoulder and waving at the raven haired boy.

Jughead stood there, chewing on his tongue and watching her head for the door, not wanting to be left alone by someone for the first time in his life. Before any rational thought could stop him, he opened his mouth to yell after the girl.

“You know”

She turned around with raised eyebrows.

“This seat is always free, and I’m here every day after school, so…” he trailed off, unsure how to continue his awkward suggestion.

Her expression immediately warmed and she smiled at him brightly, a rosy tint on her cheeks.

“Are you saying I can bother you every night?”

Jughead smiled back, sensing the humour in her voice.

“Yes”

(Y/N) let out a quiet laugh, before turning on her heels and walking out the door.

“You asked for it, Jones. You can’t get rid of me that easily now. Not here, not at school” she said over her shoulder, making Jughead shake his head with a full smile.

A quiet whisper left his lips as he watched her blurry shape walk away through the foggy window.

“I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to”

Protective | archie andrews

Originally posted by fyeahriverdale

a/n: please please request ideas for short series or one shots!! i like to cater to you guys and sometimes you really do come up with some cool ideas!! love always R🌹

as the years went on you’d think bullying and slut shaming was a thing of the past, you were sadly mistaken. in fact it seemed to get worse and more and more creative as the times went on.

i obliviously walked into school head held higher than normal as i spot Betty and Veronica standing near my locker, smiling brightly i approach them a little bounce in my step as I over to them.

“hey”

i gawk smiling like an idiot, i had my very first date last night with one Reggie Mantle and you think it went rather well. we had a meal at pops and then went to the drive in to watch a movie where we stuffed our faces with junk food and spent the night cuddled up in the back of his truck with some small make out sessions before he dropped me home just before curfew.

I was still grinning, the gang wasn’t very thrilled with the idea of me going they said that he was a stupid football jock that just wanted to get into my pants and last night just proves that they were wrong - for once.

my smile fades as i glance at their concerned expression, i grab my books and close my locker as they glance from their phones to others loitering in the halls before first period before finally glancing at me.

“what?” i laugh glancing the hall to see many eyes on me, i spot Archie his expression the same as the girls.

“okay what the hell happened”

i ask breaking the silence, tapping my fingers against my books growing impatience at their lack of emotions and words.

“will someone please tell me what’s going on!”

i practically yell, Veronica glances at her phone again and i snatch it from her grasp as the red headed boy stops in front of us mumbling a small greeting.

i glance at the phone and see that the photo Reggie had taken off me last night in the drive in cuddle up to him, only he’d modified the picture and photoshopped maple syrup running down my face.

“oh my god” i say my breathe catching in my throat i click on the comments and instantly regret it the words ‘slut’ ‘ugly’ ‘whore’ 'attention seeking’ came up regularly along with comments about my weight and seemed liked everything else 'what a freak’ i give Veronica back her phone and sniffle tears pricking my eyes.

I look up to see Betty and Veronica staring me down

“do it say it!! okay 'i told you so’ okay I get it”

the girls shake their heads scrambling for words to comfort me

“forget it” i whisper pushing past them

“(y/n)” i hear archie call but I ignore him keeping my head down as i rush to class, everyone laughing and sharing comments as I pass.

i round the corner and slam into a body, we bump heads and i cuss grabbing my fallen bag and glances to see Jughead concern etched on his face “I saw the picture are you okay?” i sigh sniffling.

“no” i whisper

he places his hand on my shoulder rubbing it soothingly “i didn’t even do anything juggie- Archie’s and the others are just itching to tell me that they were right- again!”

“it’s okay- we know it’s not true. people believe what they want okay you-” jughead tries to soothe me running his hands up and down my arms.

“jughead” we both look up to see the smug look of Reggie

my blood boils and I shove his chest “i can’t believe you” i spit tearing up at the sight of him.

“what’s wrong baby?” he coos placing his hand tenderly on my shoulder i shudder at his touch and rip my shoulder from his grasp “don’t touch me reggie!” i warn.

he steps forward and jughead stands in front of me protectively, he laughs clapping his hands looking to his boys standing behind him “would you look at that” he howls getting up in jughead face.

“don’t even think about it” i seethe standing in front of jughead pushes at reggies chest.

as much as i wanted to cower behind juggie i knew that Reggie wouldn’t flinch punching him and the last thing i wanted was for my best friend to get punched in the face.

“oh c'mon i wasn’t going to punch your little boyfriend” he teases winking at the both of us “he’s not my boyfriend reggie- he’s my friend and i will not let some jerk bully my friends” i shout “or me for that matter”

he bites his lip pulling me into the wall pinning me down “god your hot when your angry” he whispers huskily into my neck.

“get off!!” i yell looking desperately to jughead for help but Reggies boys were holding him hostage.

“i mean it Reggie get off” i yell everyone decides to gather to watch the show, i thrash trying to get out of his grip but it’s useless.

“oh come one little (y/n) you weren’t this shy with me last night” i squirm “your fat ass wasn’t mad when I had my tongue in your mouth” he smirks and i cringe knowing that he was right.

“MANTLE” i head a loud voice

“archie” i say breathless my eyes begging for help

“let her go now” he orders edging closer

“or what andr-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before archie ran and shoved Reggie off me and onto the floor.

grabbing me by the waist and pulling me into his arms

“so this is your boyfriend?” he howls “Andrews and (y/l/n) nice, I mean Arch buddy you could do way better she’s not much of a 10” he chuckles the group agreeing with him

“you okay” he whispers i nod “im okay now” i smile at him

“hate to break up the love fest but she’s mine archie, her face might not be all that but boy is her body”

the group whistles as they look me up and down taking in every once of me, i felt disgusted and disappointed that I ever thought Reggie was more than a jock with a good body.

the moment didn’t last as reggie grabbed me and shoved me into jughead, that flicks a switch in archie as he punches the boy in the jaw they wrestle around punching other and i yell for them to stop jughead holding me back.

the teachers are alerted and rush over to separate the boys as soon as Archie’s pulled back i run over to him placing my hands on his cheeks examining his face.

“arch” i say sadly glancing at his bruised eye and split lip.

“Andrews, Mantle my office NOW”

//

“i can’t believe the fought over you!” Ronnie squeals helping me zip up the back of my cheerleading uniform “swoon!” she finishes skipping over to Betty.

“it wasn’t over me, reggie was being an ass and Archie was just being a good friend” i conclude pulling my hair into a half up half down look adding blue ribbon for school spirt.

“have you spoke to him since it happened?” Betty asks sitting in front of me worry filling her voice.

“no, he had detention at lunch” she nods and i feel guilty “he came to see me after school but i just wanted to be alone. ill see him tonight” i try and smile knowing that Reggie would also be at the game.

Veronica touches up my face with a little makeup before the three of us head to school for the pep rally, my mood lifts a little football games were a ritual for me. i loved cheering with B & V and watching Archie play. Often we managed to drag Jughead and Kevin to the games to watch us all tonight that was one of those nights.

we meet the squad in the change rooms and grab our poms poms getting ready to go out onto the field to get the crowd pumped

“you will speak with him before the game right?” Veronica asks me worried, i nod following the girls out onto the field “promise”

“WOOHOO GO THE BULLDOGS” we cheer running and flipping out onto the field hyping the crowd up i spot jughead in the crowd and i jog over to him when Cheryl isn’t looking

“juggie!” i yell catching his attention “have you seen arch?” as the words leave my mouth the bulldogs run through the banner Archie leading the pack with a huge black eye. i glance at him guilty, he doesn’t see me searching through the crowd of river vixen. “ill talk to you later” i tell him he smiles frustrated giving me the 'I know your not okay’ stare.

i jog over to the drinks table where Archie stand his back facing me, i approach place my hand on his shoulder causing him to spin around relief flooding his expression as he realises it’s me.

“oh thank god it thought you weren’t here and i know you love the games and I didn’t want you to not come because of reggie and-” i cut him off placing my hand on his cheek touching the purpleness around his eyes gently.

“oh arch” he’s hand shots up to touch mine “im so sorry” i tell him tearing up

“hey it’s okay-” and just like that he’s swept up onto the field with all the others “arch” i call out trying to get he’s attention.

“hey it’s okay” i feel Betty’s hand on my shoulder “we gotta get ready” i nod turning to face her following her back to the squad getting ready to perform

//

the game finished miserable as the win was taken away from us in the last 5 minutes, the bulldogs look dull as they exit the field heading to the locker rooms. i sigh and grab my bag walking after the boys i needed to speak with Archie.

“(y/n)” i hear jughead call, choosing to ignore him i walk faster hoping to catch archie before he got into the locker room

“hey!” he yells panting as he catching up to me “ignore me much?” i roll my eyes

“i need to talk with archie okay? now are walking me or not?” i stop glancing at him “fine but yes i am because i swear to god if reggie lays a finger on you” i roll my eyes pulling him behind me

“yeah yeah you’ll kill him”

i push through the crowd of half naked boys as they undress ready to hit the showers, i struggle to find the boy before i spot the familiar red mop of hair. i weave in and out of the crowd before i edge closer to him.

he mustn’t of seen me because he turned and crash into me losing his towel in the process, jughead covers my eyes as Archie scrambles to re adjust his towel “(y/n) jughead what are you doing-”

i put my finger on his lips silencing him “let me talk please” i tell him, gaining the attention of everyone in the locker room.

i realise now why Jughead thought this was a bad idea

“look im sorry about today- your eye you losing the captain spot- you shouldn’t have gotten involved Archie it wasn’t your fight! you warned me and i didn’t listen and now your in trouble with your dad and the principal and you have a busted lip and a black eye all because of that freaking jerk!” i yell tearing up feeling stupid

“I know how much football meant to you, you need it to get into college to study your music and i completely ruined it for you because of a stupid stupid idea to prove a point!”

i run my fingers through my hair a few tears falling down my face, i wipe them as quickly as they fall Archie looks defeated not knowing what to say

“(y/n)-” he steps forward but stops as loud clapping fills the locker room

“what a speech” i growl facing Reggie

“oh go fuck yourself Reggie, haven’t you ruined enough lives today!” he smirks leaning against the locker his towel hanging low off his hips.

he reaches out to brush my hair behind my ear and Archie moves in front of me but i clasp my arm around his bicep “he isn’t worth it” i spit tugging Archie toward me.

“did i tell you how good you looked in that uniform” he licks his lips “that mini skirt, it’s like your begging for someone to kiss you, you look in desperate need let me help you princess”

he attempts to walk over to me but i extend my hand to his chest playing with him

“you know reg your right, i do really need a kiss” i tell him pulling my bottom lip with my teeth and fiddling with the bottom of my skirt fluttering my lashes.

i can see Archie adjusting his towel all the boys seem to be getting rather bothered by my act, Reggie steps forward reaching out to grab my waist but i spin grabbing the back of Archie’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss, jumping up to wrap my legs around his waist.

i deepen the kiss cheers from his team mates fill the air, i break away breathless kissing him once more before Archie sets me back down.

“much better” i sigh glances at a very frustrated Reggie “oh and reg you might wanna take a cold shower for junior” i tug at his towel leaving him completely naked before peeking Archie on the lips.

“see you outside”

he blushes scratching the back of his neck as he watches me walk out with jughead, i bite my lip swinging my hips feeling confident as i wait outside the locker room

“wow” jughead exclaims pacing back and fourth as the rest of our friends spot us and walk over to us, i roll my eyes at him grabbing his jacket to stop the pacing.

“hey” i greet the girls

“Pop’s?” Betty asks

we nod “yeah of course!”

“okay well lets go im sure archie can catch up” Veronica smiles grabbing my arm

“oh ill just wait for him we’ll meet you there!” they narrow their eyes jughead refusing to make eye contact not wanting to be interrogated.

“uh i haven’t spoken to him yet so i can do it on my way over before we met yous” they share glances with each other before nodding at my story.

“okay fine, jughead are you going to escort your ladies” he rolls his eyes pushing off the wall as the girls loop their arms with his and heading toward our favourite hang out.

the boys start exiting the locker room glancing at me as i wait fiddling with my hair and avoiding all eye contact. standing up to reggie wasn’t all that and but he whole makeout session could’ve been prevented but i was feeling epic.

“(y/n)? where are the others?” i glance up at the voice smiling at the red headed boy

i suddenly feel nervous my knees wobbling and my cheeks heating up at my name coming out of his mouth.

“uh they um- they are going to pops- i um told them that we’d yanno met them there” i finishes awkwardly glancing at my feet as I scuff them.

“that is if you want to go- if not i can just walk myself-” he smiles shaking his head at me “no no i wanna come” “good” i smile and with that we set off to Pop’s silence filling the air.

we reach the diner and i stop spoting our friends in the booth next to the window, Archie notices and stops turning to face me “you okay?” i nod

“im sorry about what happened before” i blurt worried that i misread Archie’s feelings toward me. nervousness washes over me and my smile slips from my lips.

“hey hey- no don’t be- it was amazing, your amazing” he finishes grabbing my hips and tugging me toward him.

“if im not mistaking is mr Archie Andrews finally making the first move?” i hint playful playing with his shirt, he laughs playfully placing his soft lips on me and closing the small gap between our bodies.

“you know Reg was right about the whole cheerleader outfit” i raise my eyebrows “hot as hell”

i kiss him back before lacing my hands with his and pulling him into the diner walking over to our friends sliding in next to Jughead as Archie takes the seat next to me siting closer then usual he drapes his arm across the back of the booth touching my shoulder soothingly.

“okay what the hell happened in the locker room?” Veronica asks sipping her milkshake.

“oh they had a huge make out session infringed of reggie it was intense should’ve been there” jughead spills earning a smack up side the head from Archie

“dude?”

i blush covering my face and leaning into Archie, i peer through my fingers and see the two girls staring intensely at m “what!” i complain giggling.

the group fall into a fit of laughter and i smile up at Archie as he tightens his grip around my waist making me feel safe.

this is where I belong.

alphaandhismate  asked:

Hey Rachel got a question for ya. Do you think Stiles would feel inadequate compared to all the buff sexy werewolves and push himself​ to the breaking point trying to look like he belongs? Cause I have this headcanon where he decides to work out to make himself look like he belongs beside the wolves but it doesn't work out to well and he winds up doing more harm than good. Which upsets Derek when he finds out (because he loves the idiot but he won't admit it)

Aw I can absolutely see this. Stiles, already prone to insecurity and the feeling of not being good enough, slowly being worn down by that itching knowledge in his skull of being that he’s not as strong as any of his friends, not as attractive as any of his friends, and sure as hell not as useful as any of them, right? Sure, he’s smart. He knows that. But what the hell use is that in battle? He can’t dive in front of a bullet to keep the others from hurting, can’t stand beside the others and fight at anything close to their level.

And no matter how much he smirks at enemies’ jibes and plays off as enjoying being the group’s token human (”means I get to leave all the heavy lifting to you guys, right?”) it’s a feeling that would keep building up over time, pushing at the back of his skull every time the pack insists he be left behind on a certain mission, that he should stay where he’s safe, or gets offhandedly told he’ll just slow the others down. Every time they go running out in the preserve and he gets to sit behind and watch the car. Every time he goes out with the group and finds himself wondering what he looks like in everyone else’s eyes: this circle of beautiful beyond belief, supernaturally perfect people and then… him.

He couldn’t share his worries with the others –– Scott would get that worried look in his eyes and insist Stiles is perfect the way he is. Lydia might not share the same speed and strength as the others but she’s always been supernaturally beautiful, and she’s got her own banshee tricks to help out in a fight. So he keeps it inside, bottles it up… and he starts to push himself. Stays after school lifting weights until his limbs are wrecked from it, goes out running until his legs are shaking under him. Thinking one more lift, one more mile, one step closer to belonging.

And it starts working, too. He’s able to keep up with the pack sometimes, on their more casual runs. He’s gaining muscle, losing any last hints of baby fat. But there are hollowed shadows under his eyes too and he’s not eating enough, probably, but that’s fine. It’s fine when he wrestles with Liam and ends up with a purpled bruise blooming out across his ribs from a too-hard tackle. It’s fine that he can’t really sleep anymore because his muscles are always burning. It’s fine because he’s started looking at pictures of the group after pack events and almost seeing a group of people who fit together, not a handful of perfect people around a lanky, awkward him. Who the hell wouldn’t sacrifice a little comfort and the ability to lift his arms above his head for that?

.-

Derek’s the one who notices first, because of course he is. Drops in through the bedroom window one night like the supernatural stalking creeper he used to be, and finds Stiles collapsed to an exhausted heap against the side of his bed. Too tired and too sore to have stripped off his sweat-stained shirt or make it the extra step to lay down on it. He forces a smile when he spots Derek, but it’s more pained than it should be. Wavers at the edges. Derek ignores his opening jibe, doesn’t comment on the way Stiles tries to push himself up on unsteady palms and falters, a spasm of motion that starts and dies just as fast. Just moves silent, sits down next to him on the floor at the foot of the bed. There’s a world of words in his silence, a disapproving air Stiles can feel deep in his bones, and he finds himself saying “I’m fine,” low and head ducked, like it’s a lie.

It’s not a lie. But it’s not exactly true either, is it?

Derek’s eyes are on Stiles’ face now, flicking down his damp shirt, over his faintly trembling limbs, and it’s like he’s seeing too much suddenly, seeing through walls Stiles is too tired to pull up. People aren’t supposed to see him at this point in the day; they’re supposed to see him in the morning when he has the energy to grin and bounce and keep up with the rest of them like it’s effortless. They’re not supposed to see the tired bruises under his eyes or the way he shakes from hours of trying to hold himself at a werewolf’s level.

He wets his lips, a flash of frustration burning bitter through him.

“Look, I’m not strong like you guys.” It’s not news. It’s been a constant refrain for the past two years of his life, ever since Scott was bit and turned into a superhero sports star girl magnet and left Stiles standing awkwardly in his dust. Stiles couldn’t ask for the bite, Scott wouldn’t understand. And he doesn’t think he wants it either, not really. He doesn’t want the claws or the anchors or the pulls to the moon. He just wants to be able to keep up with them. Wants to not be the funny one in a group of supermodels. Doesn’t want to be the weak one in a group of heroes. Doesn’t want to be the one holding them back.

He bites over a frustrated sound, frowns at Derek’s faintly pinched brows, manages to lift one bone-dead arm and snaps out even more harshly: “I’m not… hot.”

It’s not the whole issue, it barely touches the issue, but it’s too much already and he scowls after he says it, daring Derek to snort or mock him or roll his eyes and agree, obviously, but that searching look only seems to sink deeper and Derek murmurs, “You’re wrong.”

Which is just… it’s worse than laughing. Because Stiles could handle people dismissing him, mocking him. He’s used to that. What he can’t take is Derek fucking Hale feeling so goddamned bad about his patheticness that he’s reduced to lying to try and comfort him.

“Oh, right, sure. I’m hot. You guys are all freaking Greek gods with all the muscle and the… faces.” He snorts, falling back against an overworked spine that protests the pressure. “You can’t even talk. You’ve always been the hottest person ever. You’ve got no idea what it’s like to be the one no one ever wants.”

Derek’s eyes flick down Stiles again, reassessing, and Stiles winces over the realization that Derek’s trying to find something, anything likable on his wiry frame.

Don’t––” He starts, because he physically cannot handle that, but Derek’s saying “You’re wrong,” again, and it’s soft and warm in a way that doesn’t sound like pity.

But Stiles doesn’t let himself feel it. The “oh yeah?” he shoots back is sure and challenging, almost smug in its confidence because maybe he’s not beautiful beyond all reason like the man next to him, maybe he’s not strong and desirable and wanted but at least he’s smart enough to realize that.

Derek lets out a growl of frustration and turns where he’s sitting, crowds in close with palms pressed to either side of Stiles’ thigh, and Stiles is on the edge of rolling his eyes because does Derek seriously think he can intimidate Stiles into changing his mind about himself, but then “you’re wrong” falls out a third time, a too-warm growl of a whisper, and Derek closes the space between their lips.

Stiles loses his conviction in the contact.

Derek’s hands move over him while they kiss, dragging soothing tips and scolding pinches over his wrecked muscles in ways that leave him groaning, touches sinking you’re beautiful and you’re wanted under his skin in ways the best words probably never could. Hands trail down to play across Stiles’ fingers, silently praising the cleverness of them. Beard-rough lips drift up to kiss across his temple and a warmth of admiration seems to melt into him with each press. And Stiles can barely move, arms aching protest as he lifts them to thread into Derek’s hair, body quivering in ways that shift between exhaustion and want.

When Derek finally leans back Stiles whimpers, wanting more but too worn down to chase him. But Derek’s watching him from inches away in the dark room, and there’s no reflected flaws in those dark eyes now. Just you’re beautiful, you’re wanted. You’re important

Stiles runs light thumbs down Derek’s beard, lets out a light laugh he barely recognizes.

“Guess I believe you,”

(And from now on, on nights when the pack goes out running, Stiles and Derek find a more interesting way to occupy themselves by the cars.)

Fireworks - H.S.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I mumble. The twinkling lights are mesmerizing and I just can’t seem to focus on anyone else, not even the amazing man beside me that brought me here tonight. When Harry only hums a response, I take my gaze off the fireworks ahead of me and stare at his sharp jawline.

Lately Harry had been acting differently. At first I noticed little things, like him closing off and disappearing into his own head for short amounts of time, but after a while he started raising these walls around him, pretending to be someone who is not even though the real Harry I had met two years prior was something I wish everyone had in his life.

Of course, Harry did not only have a name to keep, but also a reputation. Yes, he was pictured as a womanizer and I think he did won best dressed male again last year, although I don’t keep up with that. I keep up with what actual Harry is up too, what ticks him, what he enjoys doing. Most of the things the media bring to attention aren’t very good small details of a bigger picture.

I think that’s why this friendship works so damn well. That might also be the absolute number one reason I fell madly in love with this man. I’d never risk anything to put our friendship in jeopardy, because I honestly believe I’d never find someone like him, ever again. He was the only real thing in a world filled with lies and misinterpretations.

I’m actually terrified I’ll never get to see the real Harry again. And whatever I try, I just can’t seem to get through to him. So when he appeared at my door, giant grin on his rosy lips and a bottle of expensive champagne held up in one hand, I couldn’t decline.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Harry laughs, pulling his bottom lip between his pearly white teeth before his glance is cast in my direction. I can feel the rosy hue appear on my cheeks, but they’re transparent to Harry’s gaze due to the harsh lighting of the fireworks going off in front of us.

“This lighting is doing you good.” I decide to go with a true compliment, although that wasn’t initially on my mind. I love the smile that it draws on his lips, the way his eyes crinkle and how he then casts his glance away. “Do you say that to all men?”

“Only you.” I shrug my shoulders with a grin and let a shriek flow from my lips when I feel Harry’s elbow collide with my ribs. “Hey, I gave you a really nice compliment and this is how you repay me?”
“What do you want to hear? How beautiful you look? You always do, Y/n.” Harry huffs as he rolls his eyes and fixates his gaze back onto the sparkly lights disappearing as quickly as they appear.

“You’re one of the most kind-hearted people I know Harry, you deserve all of this success you’re receiving, you know that right?” I decide to bring up the new single, the one that’s supposed to come out in just a few hours – at midnight to be exact. He hadn’t mentioned it since I had heard it when he had initially finished it. It was his baby, his first solo record and he didn’t seem to utter another word about it. It had been months and it saddened me because it was so damn good.

“How is that new man of yours?” Harry’s voice changes tone, and when I decide to peek I see the frown that has set onto his eyebrow. I guess we’re still not talking about it, and I decide to drop it. Last time I had tried to initiate conversation we ended up not speaking to each other for almost two weeks. Which were the worst two weeks of my life, really. “That’s over and done with, didn’t I mention that?”

“Well no, you didn’t.” Harry sighs and I see the small smile tug at his lips. I scoot a little bit closer to Harry, although I’m not sure why. “Well, sorry then.”
“Why did you break up? I thought you liked him.” Harry throws his arm around my shoulder and I lay my head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath as I focus back on the popping flashing of light.

“I never really did, I think.” I mumble, dropping my hand onto Harry’s knee and giving it a firm squeeze. “I’m searching for something else.” I finish off, feeling my heart throb in my throat. Indirectly, in my own head, I had confessed my love for Harry. He would never see it as such, but that didn’t take away any of the anxiety coursing through my body.

“Well it’s great that you know what you want.”

“Don’t you know what you want?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure she hasn’t even given it a thought. I think I’m nothing more to her than just a really good friend.”

“Who says that? Harry if you want this girl, go and get her. Do you even realize how amazing you are? You always put me up when I’m down. You watch the most horrifying movies with me whenever I want to, without any complaint. You once showed up at my door just because I sounded blue to you on the phone. I’m sure whatever girl you want is just as madly in love with you as you are with her.” I grin, squeezing his knee for emphasis as I let my eyes dart along the sky, trying to follow every firework going off.

“Do you know what sign of the times is about?” Harry suddenly questions and I feel myself stiffen in his embrace as he for the first time in weeks talks about his song or upcoming album.
“Well I interpreted it as hope.” I decide to voice my own thoughts and feelings as simply as possible.

“That’s the great part of it. I think – in whatever time of your life you are, it might – I don’t know – can be interpreted in whatever way it suits you.” Harry starts to stumble over his words as if he were nervous, his ring clad fingers toying with his jeans as he avoids my gaze as well as the sounds going on around us.

“So you’re saying I’m hoping for something?” I smile, somewhat feeling my own nerves bubbling in my stomach as I pull away from Harry, smiling brightly at his twinkling eyes.

“Yeah, you could say it like that. But I think we all hope something, right?” Harry grins right back at me and I slowly let my eyes close, nodding once, but firmly at his statement – or question.

“Hm.” I agree verbally, wanting to lay my head again against his shoulder but he stops me, his eyes searching mine tentatively as I keep frozen in my spot. I let a low breath slip past my opened lips, my tongue darting out to wet them before I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, slowly biting down on it.

Something seems to click in Harry’s mind and before I can completely comprehend what is happening or is about to happen, Harry leans in but hovers right before his lips are about to meet mine. He lets me decide if I want this – if I want to kiss him and as soon as my brain has caught up to current events, I lean the short distance and press my lips firmly against his.

Harry’s large hand cups my cheek and for a second I feel like I might burst out into tears of happiness, but instead I settle for a large grin which almost breaks up our kiss. I feel the vibrations of Harry’s chuckle against my lips as my eyelids flutter.

Harry pulls away, keeping his hand in place, as he seems to catch his breath. His lips press to mine once more in a gentle, simple peck right as the last few fireworks make their last pop in front of us, illuminating the dark night sky.

Long Way Down // Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: A little bit of everything really


The end had finally come and despite the amount of time you spent preparing for it, it still felt like a punch in your stomach. The knot in your throat was painful and your lungs still struggled for air to breathe. Tears clouded your eyes and turned your vision blurry until his face was unrecognizable.

“You’re a coward,” you cried. “A fucking coward!”

Keep reading

Are You Sure About That?

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Relationship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid is your best friend in the entire world. Best friends totally spend every weekend together, and walk around holding hands, and cuddling on their movie night, right? 

Note: Just an idea I had one night. Hope you enjoy. 

Keep reading

(Super-fast idea, because I found this picture and after laughing at the Sheriff’s face for two minutes straight, the idea hit me straight in the face)

Several years in the future, Derek and the Sheriff are kind of buddies.

Derek is a consultant for the Beacon Hills police when any kind of supernatural crime occurs, or when they need his super sniffer in critical urgencies (Derek found the lost little girl almost immediately, while the K9 unit from the next town was still lost in the wood. The Sheriff was proud. They never talk about the fact that they had to circle the town in the John’s police car, Derek’s head hanging out of the window like a poodle on a roadtrip).

So the John and Derek sometimes hang out, they watch football match together, they have a beer, they talk about Stiles’ news from college. They enjoy each other’s company in a very quiet, simple way.

Then, Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills for Christmas, and immediately comes out as bisexual to his dad.

The Sheriff blinks, then hugs him. And that should be the end of it. He is genuinely glad that Stiles told him, and happy that he seems to grow up happy in his own skin.

John honestly doesn’t mean to search stuffs online, but he’s bored, and one innocent question about LGBT rights typed into google quickly devolve into following all kind of links and falling deep. Too deep.

He manages to keeps the anxiety at bay all the way to Derek’s home, and his knock on the door is barely frantic. But Derek opens the door as if he was expecting the Sheriff to be on fire, so John guesses that he didn’t control his panic-stricken heartbeat as well as he thought.

After a few minutes of assuring Derek that no, Stiles is fine, John is fine, everyone is fine, no Stiles isn’t hurt, nobody’s kid got missing again, Melissa is fine, there is no monster eating anyone, Stiles is totally ok, and getting a glass of perfectly good whisky from Derek (who apparently keeps it around just for John), John finally explains.

Because Derek? Derek is bisexual.

They have talked about it in passing several times. Derek’s ex, Jeff, used to be a cop in New Jersey until he got shot in duty and became a teacher. Derek spends some nights drinking at the Jungle and he glared while talking about shitty techno music. Derek gives money to an association for LGBT kids and go there to help sometimes.

To the Sheriff, it never seemed like a detail more important than knowing that Derek hates cheap beer or that he is a sore loser when his sport team get slaughtered.

But now, now it is important. Because the Sheriff needs someone with answers, precise answers, about things that he can ask directly to his kid.

About giant sex toys and trip to the ER and drugs use and STDs and biphobia and bullying.

He kind of blurt it all. Derek’s eyes look gigantic and his eyebrows almost fly off his forehead.

So that’s how Derek becomes the Sheriff’s mentor in everything LGBT.

It’s not as weird as it could be.

Derek answers all his questions as best as he can, tries to reassure him and, when he doesn’t know, they look for information together online while staying far away from certain websites.  

(all the while, Derek tries to ignores really, really hard, that Stiles is bisexual and apparently single. It’s impossible).

Then I don’t know.

Maybe the Sheriff brings Derek back home in the hope that Derek will talk with Stiles about all these stuffs (because he’s not sure he has mastered the details enough to give the bisexual version of the Talk, and also, the image of the gigantic dildo is still haunting him).

So they end up all around the kitchen table, Stiles looking bewildered, Derek resigned and awkward and the Sheriff looking at them with crazy eyes (again, gigantic dildo. And ER trips. Melissa works there, this can never happen to him) until they start talking.

Stiles knows all those things. Derek knows that Stiles knows. They talk about it anyway because, well, the Sheriff look kind of grey in worry.

Then Stiles finally understands that Derek is bisexual. And single. And Derek knows that Stiles is bisexual. And single. The awkwardness quickly turns to vague innuendo, then overt flirting, then eyefucking over mugs of coffee.

The Sheriff gets his colors back progressively. He wonders for a second if he should protest this development (the whole, 7 years older and a werewolf thing may be a problem), but really, Derek is a great man.

And he apparently knows how to use lube, condoms, and would never be stupid enough to use a gigantic dildo then lose it somewhere in his son.

All in all, he’s ok with the direction this whole thing is taking.

The Runaway Ballerina

Pairing: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader, some Cas 

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Reader has been hexed by witch that turned her into a toddler, and a jealous Dean becomes very annoyed. 

A/N: I hit 100 followers, so in honor of that I’ll be posting some imagines so if you guys have any request send them down and I’ll try my best.

Originally posted by helvonasche


Sam and Dean sit in baby staring at their once 25 year old sister who was now 4 years old in a ballerina outfit because that’s what she picked out at the store when they needed to buy her clothes. The previous hunt they were on Y/N got hit by some weird powder by a witch and Dean woke up the following morning to a tiny hand on his face.

“Why do you guys keeping wooking at me weird?” She ask looking between them. “You’re just so tiny.” Sam smiles. “She’s so cute!” Sam adds looking at Dean. “Yeah, I remember.” He mumbles as they get out the car to go food shopping for the bunker.

“Come on Y/N.” Sam chimes as he opens the back door for her. He holds her hand as they cross the street to the store. She lets go and runs to the shopping carts to grab one. They stand there watching her struggle to get one cart out because they were stuck together. (Don’t you just hate that) “I got it.” Sam chuckles getting it. As they walk in store Y/N skips ahead next to Dean to hold his hand but he keeps moving his hand so she can’t grab it.

“I don’t wanna hold your hand, thanks. I don’t wanna hold your hand.” He argues. She frowns and grabs a hold of his hand and grips it tight. “Ow, ow, let go of my hand.” He growls. “That hurts.” He glares down at her. She whimpers and peeks over to Sam who looks down at her. “What’s wrong bug?”

“Dean won’t hold my hand.” Y/N pouts. Sam gives Dean his signature bitch face and Dean grunts and grabs her hand. “She always did this before.” He mumbles but Sam just chuckles shaking his head. “Why did you choose a costume?” Dean ask looking at her ballerina outfit. “It’s not a costume it’s my protective gear.”

“How’s a ballerina costume suppose to protect you?”

“Are you crazy who wants to hurt a ballewina?” She protest. “Other ballerinas.” Dean shrugs. Once Dean had enough he throws Y/N in the seat of the cart and she rambles to Sam who too eventually has enough of her talk of Princes and fairies and he gives her his iPod. She bops her head and swings her hanging legs accidentally kicking Sam once in awhile listening to music as they get to the register. “Can I has some lime jerky?” She ask pointing down below to the candy and jerky. Sam is about to protest remembering her eating habit but Dean holds his hand up to stop him. “Your remember how she was when she didn’t get things. She whined and whined.” Sam grabs the jerky and puts it down with the of stuff and Y/N smiles. The ride to the bunker is an half hour away and Y/N becomes very impatient.

“Are we there yet?” She grunts tugging on her seatbelt. “We get there when we get there Y/N.” Dean answers annoyed. “Why do you have to be such a meany?” She yells. Sam stops Dean before he can even talk back. “Hey princess let’s play a game.” Sam says turning around in his seat. “Okay!”

“Let’s play the license plate game.”

“Yay okay!” Y/N props herself on the seat and looks out the window. There isn’t much cars on the road and she eventually falls asleep from boredom. When they arrive Sam carries Y/N down the stairs seeing Cas sitting in the war room. “Who’s the child?” He questions noticing a sleeping Y/N in Sam’s arms.

“Cas it’s Y/N.” He chuckles. “Y/N isn’t two feet tall.”

“She got hit by some mumbo jumbo powder and now she’s four years old so we need to find a way to reverse it.” Dean explains as they walk to the kitchen. “Cas would you mind taking her to her room?” Sam ask. Cas hesitates at first and nods. Sam passes her gently so she doesn’t wake up. She stirs in Cas’s arms for a moment and becomes still again. He takes her to her room settling her down on the bed. He admires her small body seeing fully that it clearly was Y/N. He remembers Y/N showing him some pictures of her and boys when they were younger.

An hour goes passed and the boys sit in the library reading some books. “Do children usually nap for this long?” Cas questions. “You have a point totally forgot. She’s too quiet now that I realize.” Sam intervenes. “Oh no.” Dean mumbles getting up. “What? What is it?” Cas questions following them to the kitchen.

“Whenever Y/N was quiet it meant that she’s was either hiding something or she’s going through the pantry for cand—”

Sure enough when they reach the kitchen they see a stash of candy wrappers opened along with other snacks, but that wasn’t the problem. This was Dean’s secret stash. “Son of bitch.” He stomps his boot. “If she throws up, I’m blaming you!”  Dean scolds at Sam with a pointed finger. They go into the hallways to look for her. “Y/N!” Dean screams. He goes to her room not seeing her there and is about to leave till he hears shuffling from the closet. He slowly walks up to the closet grabbing the door knobs and swings them open spotting the little ballerina with a chocolate stained mouth.

“THERE YOU ARE!” She screams crawling through Deans legs and makes a run for it in the hallway.

“Sammy get her!” He screams. Sam sees a small body dart across the hallway. He runs after her but loses her once he turns the corner. Five minutes go by and Dean doesn’t find her. “I’m tried of playing games Y/N come out now or it’s time out for you!” After three minutes of searching he meets in the war room with Sam. “She’s in so much trouble!” Dean grunts. “Dean, why are you so mad at her?”


“She ate my stuff!”

“No, not that. I mean ever since she turned you’ve been a meany like she said what’s up with that?” Dean doesn’t answer and looks away. Sam stands there waiting for the answer. Dean mumbles something inaudible he can’t hear. “What?”

“I said she likes you better then me.” He confesses. “Dean, what are you talking about?” He sighs before he answers.

“Every since Y/N was little she always liked you best. She was stuck to you like glue.” Sam stands there in shock. “Dean, she loves you a lot you know?” He raises an eyebrow hearing this. “Anytime you and dad were gone Y/N never shut about you. Asking me all these questions about cars and bugging me when you were gonna be back and how excited she was to learn  how to gank monsters from her big brother. Besides you too spend a bunch of time together now. Why is this affecting you?”

“Is that true?”

“Yes, I was kinda jealous because I thought she liked you more. And to be honest I’m a little jealous. You guys have a closer bond than I have with her now.” Sam admits. Suddenly Cas emerges into the war room carrying a crying Y/N. “What happened?” Sam ask. “Well when I was chasing her down she fell and hurt her knee.” He lifts her leg up showing the ripped pink unitard with a cut that is now bleeding just a little and the torn tutu. He goes to hand her to Sam’s out stretched arms but she whimpers rejecting him.


“I want Dean.” She whimpers crying. Dean lifts his head up hearing this and gets a good look at his baby sister. Her arms reached out for him leaning away from Cas. Her eyes puffy and red from crying. Dean realizes that he’s been so stupid that he didn’t need to be jealous, because him and Y/N get along perfect now when she’s not a toddler. She whimpers putting her arms down thinking her big brother yet again is rejecting her today until he reaches out for her and she quickly wraps her arms around his neck. “You okay?” He ask softly wiping her tear stained face. “No.” Y/N croaks shaking her head and he takes her to his room. He sets her down on his bed and helps her in one of his t-shirts after cleaning her face.


“I’m sorry I ate your candy.” She apologies in her small voice. “No, I’m sorry for being a meany today, I was just jealous.”

“Why?” She ask with a tilt of her head.

“It’s a long story. But let’s get a bandaid on this shall we?” He gets the first aid kit and cleans her scratch up. “Tank you.” She says once he’s finished. “Dean.” She calls out to him when he puts the stuff away. “Yeah?”

“Can we watch some cowboy movies?” He smiles at this and nods his head. “Sure thing sweetheart.” He sets the movie in his room while Cas helps her pop the popcorn. Half way through the movie Y/N starts falling asleep. He looks down under his arm seeing Y/N falling asleep with a piece of popcorn hanging of her bottom lip. “Getting sleepy there?” He lays down with her pulling the blanket up. “Frectles.” She mumbles. “What?” She puts one tiny finger in his face and says it again. “Frectles.” He frowns then gasp realizing what she meant. “You mean freckles.” He chuckles. “Yeah you has those.”

A/N: Would you guys like a Part 2?
The Fourth Musketeer

Originally posted by riverdales-daily

Pairing: Archie x Reader

Description: A small comment from Betty triggers many painful memories for Archie about a lost love.

Warnings: angst?

Word count: 1,405

Tag list: @isis278 @lost-in-wonderland-x @spam-to-follow

A/N: so this isn’t based off of any request, I was just inspired to write this fic. hope you enjoy!


“It’ll be like old times,” Betty said, hopeful eyes staring at Archie.

“The three musketeers,” he laughed.  Betty bit her lip, her smile slightly fading.

“Actually, Archie,” she corrected, “there were four of us.”

“(Y/N)!” a newly-turned six year old Archie exclaimed.  "I didn’t think you were gonna come!“

"Of course I came!” (Y/N) giggled, stepping into the Andrews house.  "You’re my best friend.“ Archie pulled (Y/N) into a hug.

"You’re my best friend too, (Y/N),” he grinned.

“Yeah, four of us,” Archie muttered, turning away from Betty. She frowned, realizing she reopened that wound too soon.

“I’m sorry Archie, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, Betty,” Archie grimaced.

“No, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she apologized.

“But there were four of us,” Archie admitted.  "I guess I was just trying to forget the fourth.“

"Why do we only come here when they play this movie?” ten year old (Y/N) questioned, gesturing towards the movie playing on the Twilight Drive-In screen.  Archie shrugged, wrapping his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders.

“Because it’s my favorite,” he replied.  (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you want to watch something else for a change?” she asked, looking up at him with a smile.  "You know, discover something new?“

"No,” Archie refused her suggestion, immaturely shaking his head.  "I like things just the way they are.“

Archie couldn’t get (Y/N) out of his head for the rest of the day.  Throughout school, and after school during the preparations for Jughead’s party, Archie’s mind kept going back to (Y/N).  For two years, he had blocked out all memories of her.  Now, she was pictured clear in his mind.  Her memory was haunting him, and Archie could do nothing but push through the day as if nothing was wrong.

"Archie,” (Y/N) whimpered, standing on his front porch.  He ran out towards her and enveloped her in a hug as soon as he reached her.

“What?” he asked, burying his face into her hair.  "What’s wrong?“  (Y/N) gripped onto his t-shirt, her hands desperately holding onto her best friend.

"I’m moving,” she sobbed.  "I’m moving next month.“  Archie’s arms dropped, and he took a step back.

"Moving?” he echoed.  "But what about 8th grade?“  (Y/N) helplessly shrugged, tears continuing to roll down her cheeks.  "It’s our last year before high school. We were gonna…”  The rest of Archie’s sentence was stuck in his throat.

“I know,” she cried.  "I know, Archie. You think I wanted this?“  He frantically shook his head.

"No, no, of course not.”

“We’re leaving in July,” she explained.  "I tried to convince my parents not to move, or at least to leave me behind.“

"You could stay with us,” Archie offered.  A bittersweet smile creeped onto (Y/N)’s lips.

“I know,” she said. “I told them that.”

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Archie mumbled as he stumbled into his bedroom, ignoring the party going on downstairs.  "(Y/N).“  He repeated her name over and over again, reminiscing on the way her name felt on his tongue.  All the memories that he had hidden away from himself came tumbling back, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions that he had forgotten how they felt.  He frustratedly tugged at his hair, struggling to cope with his feelings.  Her sparkling eyes and joyous laugh were still engraved in the back of his mind.  How could he ever forget?  "God, (Y/N), I’m so sorry.”  He continued to drunkenly pace around his room, head spinning with memories of (Y/N).  Every moment they shared, every hug they had, every chance he missed to tell her he loved her.  He missed every single opportunity he had to tell her.  "I should’ve told her,“ he moaned.  An idea lit up in Archie’s mind, so he began to search his room.  He tossed clothes and blankets aside until he found his phone laying on his nightstand.  He picked it up and immediately dialed (Y/N)’s number by memory.

"I’m sorry, this number no longer exists,” the monotonous robot answered his call.  Archie screamed out in frustration, throwing his phone across his room against the wall.

“I want to talk to her!” he screamed, punching his bed.  "I need her!“

"Archie?” Veronica called out as she cautiously his room.  He paused his rampage as he turned to face the raven-haired girl.

“What?” he snapped.

“You’re making a lot of noise,” Veronica ignored the bite in his voice.  "I wanted to make sure you’re okay.“

"I’m not…” he clutched his head, sitting down on his bed, “I’m not okay.  She’s gone.”

“Who?” Veronica questioned, sitting next to Archie.

“(Y/N),” he moaned.  "(Y/N)’s gone.“

"Who’s that?” Veronica asked.  Archie glared at her and stood up, stepping away from her.

“I loved her,” he whispered, flopping back onto his bed.  Veronica frowned.  "God, I should’ve left Riverdale when my mom offered.“

"But then we would’ve never met,” Veronica quipped.  "And that, Archiekins, would be a tragedy of epic proportions.“  She glanced at his lips, then back up to his eyes.  Leaning in, she connected her lips with his.  It only lasted a moment before Archie pulled away.

"No, Veronica,” he stopped her.  "I’m sorry, but… you’re not her.“

"I’m sorry,” she apologized.  "That was stupid and selfish of me, I shouldn’t have-“

"It’s fine,” Archie interrupted her.  "It’s not your fault, I just… the wound is still kinda fresh, you know?“  Veronica nodded.

"She sounds lovely,” she offered.  "Can you tell me about her?“  Archie inhaled deeply.

"We were best friends,” he started, and a smile already grew on his face.  "Our parents were good friends, so we knew each other since birth.  We were two peas in a pod.  Then we met Jughead and Betty, and we became the four musketeers.  We’d do everything together.  But (Y/N) and I were still the closest.“

"When did you fall in love with her?” Veronica inquired.

“I think I always was,” Archie answered truthfully.  Veronica sighed; she knew there was no competing with even the memory of (Y/N).  "But I don’t think I realized it until I kissed her.“

"Did you know some people have already had their first kiss?” (Y/N) asked Archie as she sat on a swing.

“Like who?” he questioned.  They were eleven.

“I heard Cheryl kissed someone,” (Y/N) shrugged.  "I don’t know who though.“

"She could be lying,” Archie said.

“Josie, too,” (Y/N) interjected.

“Maybe they kissed each other,” Archie laughed, and (Y/N) giggled with him.  Once their laughs died down, they swung in silence.

“Who do you want to be your first kiss?” (Y/N) broke the silence.

“I don’t know,” Archie shrugged.  "What about you?“

"There’s not really anyone I want to kiss,” she answered.  "The only good guys in Riverdale are you and Jughead.“

"Would you kiss Jughead?”

“Ew, no!” she squealed.  "Jughead is like my brother!“

"Am I a brother to you?” Archie asked.  (Y/N) grew quiet and shrugged.

“You’re my best friend, Arch,” she responded.

“So does that mean you would kiss me?” he smirked.  (Y/N) blushed.

“Would you kiss me?” she countered, causing Archie to blush.  They both grew quiet, each embarrassed by the thought of kissing each other.

“I’d want you to be my first kiss,” he said.  (Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at Archie.

“Really?” she asked.  He nodded.  "I want you to be my first kiss too.“

"What if…” Archie nervously stuttered, “What if we did it now?  Like, kiss each other.  Just so that we’re definitely each other’s first kiss.”  (Y/N) pretended to contemplate it for a moment, but she already knew her answer.

“Sure,” she agreed nonchalantly.  Her heart was about to beat out of her chest.  Archie jumped off of the swing and stepped towards (Y/N).  Both of their eyes fluttered closed, and they pressed their lips against each other’s.  They pulled apart a second after, a blush spreading across both of their cheeks.  Archie hopped back onto the swing next to (Y/N).  Neither of them spoke about the kiss.

“Do you think she knew?” Veronica asked.  Archie raised a puzzled eyebrow.  "Do you think she knew that you loved her?“ she elaborated.  Archie shrugged.

"Maybe,” he responded.  "I hope so.  I never told her, though.  God, I should’ve told her.“

"Hey,” Veronica reached a comforting hand out towards Archie.  "Don’t beat yourself up over it.  From what you told me, it sounds like she knew.“

"You think so?”

“I do,” Veronica nodded.  "And from what I can tell, I think she loved you too.“

Part two here     Part three here     Part four here     Part five here