backpack grip

Suddenly, you hear alarms go off in the bank as a group of masked men start shouting at everyone to get on the ground. You grip your backpack filled with money tighter and hope they don’t learn you already robbed this place blind with no one noticing.

the saga of is it a fic or are they headcanons continues.  parts one, TWO (this one!), three, four, five, six.

  • so michelle starts to get buddy buddy with ned and peter, ish.
  • she starts to actually kind of like ned, even if he sometimes puts his foot in his mouth sometimes. but they argue about the merits of comic books as a form of literature and he teaches her some words in tagalog and she learns how to call peter a son of a bitch so she’s pretty entertained.
  • but the weird things just keep piling up with peter.
  • he rushes off at random times, freezes whenever she asks him where he’s going, shows up to school with cuts and bruises looking like he’s been fighting in an underground boxing ring. she even saw him go into the chemistry lab the other day at lunch time even though they both took chemistry last year and he’s taking biology now.
  • he just does really weird things sometimes and michelle can’t help but notice.
  • michelle also can’t help but notice that spiderman is becoming more and more popular. people sell t-shrits, masks, shot glasses, tote bags. everything, basically. and maybe one day michelle might spend a little too much time looking at a t-shirt with a picture of spiderman in all his toned, muscly glory. but she just shakes her head and keeps moving.
  • she gets curious about him, though. where did he come from? who is he? why is he doing this? why did he sound oddly familiar in DC when he saved her friends?
  • and then one day she’s walking home from school after academic decathlon and she missed the bus which is totally her fault for staying later after practice to chat with peter and ned about the upcoming weekend and how their plans to construct a lego version of the starship enterprise were so utterly boring she could barely stand to listen to them. (and weren’t people supposed to choose star wars or star trek? was that not a thing? not that she cares about things peter likes. well, peter AND ned. anyway.)
  • she’s turning a corner when she sees someone out of the corner of her eyes. there is a man on the opposite side of the street walking several yards back from here. it could be nothing. but she’s also been taught to always be on high alert. so she grips her backpack to her body a bit tighter and walks a little faster down the street, cursing herself for not taking the more populated albeit slightly longer route home.
  • she continues down the street when she notices the man cross the street so that he’s on the same side of the road as she and at that point she just starts running. better that he thinks she’s odd if he isn’t following her than be caught if he is trying to catch her. she sprints down the street and turns another corner as she looks back to check if the man is following her and then bam. she’s on the ground, gripping the shoulder that practically crashed into a brick wall.
  • “oh my goodness, are you okay?” she sighs and looks at the owner of the panicked voice and she is left speechless. it’s…well, it’s spiderman.

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The Bus Smut

Summary: While on the TATINOF american tour bus, Dan convinces Phil to leave their own private bunks in the middle of the night to spend the night in the “forbidden bedroom” at the back of the bus. But, spending the night together innocently isn’t what Dan has in mind. Add a suspicious unnamed tour manager and a bumpy road and things get interesting. 

Pairing: Dan Howell/Phil Lester

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Daddy kink, rimming, blowjobs, unprotected consensual sex

“Bye guys!” I smile, Dan smiles, waving at the enormous crowd ahead of us, flashing lights and squeals bombarding us.

We walk off the stage, and once my eyes adjust to the significantly darker lighting backstage, I suddenly become aware of Dan’s erratic behavior. He grimaces at every person who walks past us, pulling off his gold show-jacket as he speed walks into the dressing room.

“Dan?” I yell at him through the people, running after him.

He doesn’t stop, plowing past staff.


He slams the dressing room door in my face, and before I can say anything, I hear the lock click.

“Dan? Come on, what the hell is going on?” I pound on the door.

I stand there for a few minutes, assuring all the staff that he’s fine. I make up a lie about him having a stomache ache, and the stage lights made it worse.

I eventually sink to the floor, giving up my fight, talking to him through the door. I gasp for air, my lungs still not adjusting to the extremely high altitude of Colorado. Mile High City indeed.

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Shakespeare (Part VI)

(Banner made by the incredibly talented @tiostyles)

Harry X Reader (AU)

In which Harry is a poetic frat boy who just so happens to be the TA for your new English class.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Hi!! I don’t wanna give anything away, but let me know if you sort of saw hints before this part? Any and all feedback is appreciated. I hope you enjoy!

Harry’s hair is a weird length.

You play with your lower lip as you watch him run a hand through the mess of curls. Locks twist around his ears and hang over the frame of his glasses, despite his constant push to get them out of his face. You don’t know why he won’t just get a trim.

“’S my aesthetic,” he told you when you asked. “Poets are supposed t'look messy, yeah?”

Green eyes find yours from across the room and you watch as Harry’s blank expression is replaced by a smirk. You have to bite into your lower lip to keep from grinning at him. Your eyes only peel away from his face when Dr. Glasser dismisses the class and everyone starts to leave the room. You close your notebook and begin to pack away your things.


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How Long?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: I love peter parker? he’s been my favorite superhero since i was like, two and seeing tom holland, who i’ve loved since the impossible and seeing him blow it out of the water as my sweet angel spiderman was like a christmas present in july so here’s this

Originally posted by vintagejosh

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Missing You (Zach Dempsey x Reader)

A/n: When requests are short so you decide to use some of the prompts yourself (Wouldn’t mind making a part two!)

Requested: no

Word count: 858

#30 “So that’s it? It’s over?”

Warnings: angsty af

Summary: Zach breaks up with Y/n out of the blue, and it completely destroys her.

Originally posted by itsme-hannahbaker

Originally posted by raquel-lostgirl

Something didn’t feel right. The tension was high as she climbed into her boyfriends beloved Audi. Zach was silent, not a single word spoken as he drove her home. Not even a small peck when she first got into the car. Her heart hammered in her chest. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

Zach takes the long route home. Letting all their little songs play. Almost as if he’s trying to remember all their special moments. He’s been distant since Hannah’s death. Quieter, and not as present. After 40 minutes, they finally pull into her drive way. She knew somewhere, deep down, this was ending. Zach turns the engine over, just sitting there in complete silence. She doesn’t dare move from her spot. Her hand that has been sitting on her knee began to shake violently. She can’t even look at him, she knew what was coming.

“Y/n…” Zach’s voice was gentle, but yet emotionless. With each heartbeat, she felt the cracks began to unfold.

“You’re breaking up with me aren’t you?” She asks, her voice barely audible. Zach takes a minute to reply.

“Yeah.” He says quietly. Now, her whole body begins to shake. A panic attack is dominating her body, and the one person who can fix it, doesn’t take action. They sit there for another few minutes. She musters up enough courage to say something.

“So that’s it? It’s over?” She whispers. She wanted an explanation, to hear reason. Zach doesn’t reply. Tears threat to spill over. She holds them back, waiting to let go the minute she’s alone. She quickly gathers her backpack. Her hand grips tightly on the door handle. Afraid to leave the car. She sighs, she opens the door and scampers out. She stands there for a minute, looking at him. With one finally breath, she lets the door close before heading to the front door. She unlocks the door, and takes one look back at the Audi, only to find it backing out quickly. She steps in, and closes the door behind her. She slowly walks up the stairs to her room. Her heart in her chest is like a gravity ball, pulling her down to the floor. She gets to her room, opening the door, then closes it. But instead of going to her bed, she finally lets it out. Her bag is slowly released from her grip as she leans against her door. Loud sobs rack out through her body as she cries. Her body slides down the door. She brings her knees to her chest, cuffing her arms around them. Crying violently into them. She didn’t understand.

~A week later~

She’s quiet. Hasn’t spoken a single word to any of her friends, teachers, and parents. She’s changed. Hasn’t done her makeup in days, doesn’t care how she dresses. A mess bun, sweatpants, and a baggy t-shirt is what clings to her body. She’s starving. Hasn’t eaten a proper meal in the last few days. She misses him. She cries out in her sleep, wanting him to come running back and make her better again. She sees him in school. He hasn’t changed, he still laughs at whatever stupid joke his friends say. Not even her best friend, Justin Foley, can make her better. School is starting to turn into a hell hole filled with people she doesn’t care for. She’s alone.

It’s after school now, she’s in her sanctuary, her room. Where the walls are traced with memories that haunt her every day. Where the carpet is soaked with tears. Her phone buzzes for the first time in days. It’s Justin.


You should come to the basketball game tonight. We won’t win without you.


It hurts. I don’t want to see him.


It’s been 8 days. Enjoy yourself, you have to start getting better.



She does show up. To support Justin and the rest of the team. She can feel lingering eyes on her throughout the game. They’re losing. Because their star basketball player can’t focus. His mood changes, he makes shot after shot, making the team win. The buzzer goes off. They’ve won. The crowd races out to congratulate them. She doesn’t, she gets up and walks towards the door unnoticed. It’s like she’s in a movie, behind her, everything slows down, while she’s still in reality.

~Zach looks for her, but she’s nowhere in sight. He’s made up his mind. He needs the girl he loves back at his side. Justin points towards the exit. Over the cheers he hears Justin yell, “Go get her!” So he does. He breaks out from the crowd and races towards the exit of the gym. He bursts out into the cold windy night, hoping to find her still walking to her car. But she’s not, her car is gone, and so is his heart.

anonymous asked:

Can you write a fic where Betty is sick and Jughead takes care of her or vise-versa?

Yes I LOVE this prompt!

Jughead Gets The Flu

“Hey, have you seen Jughead yet today?” Betty asked. She was standing at Archie’s locker, scuffing her shoe gently against the floor, worried.

“Yeah, sorry Betty, he asked me to tell you. He’s still sick. F.P. and my dad are working at a site a few hours away and they’re staying there for the week. Jughead’s sleeping at the trailer park so he doesn’t get me sick.”

“He’s still sick?!” Betty asked, worry crossing her face. “What’s that, like, four days now?”

Archie nodded, placing some notebooks back in his locker.

“Alright, thanks, Arch.” Betty gave him an unconvincing smile, strolling back toward her own locker.

She spun the dial quickly, grabbing her backpack and placed a couple notebooks inside. She had gym next, then study period. She could afford to miss those.

She shut her locker, throwing her backpack over her shoulder, gripping the strap.

She rushed out of school, jogging down the sidewalk, thankful that nobody called out to her to question her.

She walked to Pop’s, ordering a chicken noodle soup and a peppermint tea to go.

Pop filled her order quickly, only one other patron there at such an awkward time in the day.

Next, she stopped at the pharmacy, grabbing tissues, throat lozenges, cough medicine, cold pills (day time and night time, just in case), Echinacea, hand sanitizer and a large bottle of water.

She stuffed the pharmacy bag into her backpack and walked the distance to Jughead’s trailer.

She knocked gently and waited, then knocked again after a few moments had gone by. She heard shuffling inside the trailer, then the door swung open.

“Oh, Bets. It’s you.” A slow smile spread across Jughead’s face. He looked sick, that was for sure. 

His hat was missing, his hair unruly, sticking up in all directions. A few pieces stuck to his forehead.

His eyes were rimmed with hard purple bags, his nose bright pink at the tip. He had a blanket swung across his shoulders. He was smiling goofily at her.

“Come into my humble abode.” He sniffled.

“Thanks, Juggie,” She smiled despite herself.

Jughead sat on the couch, making room for Betty at one end. He extended his legs, stretching but leaving them on the ground. He rested his head against the arm rest.

“I brought you soup.” Betty smiled, placing the soup and the tea on the coffee table in front of them.

“You did!” He exclaimed, trying to sit up. He lost his balance, swaying towards the ground. 

He caught himself as Betty reached out her hand.

“Jughead, oh my God, are you okay?” She placed one hand on his shoulder, the other hand brushed his bangs back and rested on his forehead, checking his temperature. “Jug, you’re burning up.”

Jughead took a deep breath. “I don’t feel good, Bets.”

“Are you going to throw up?” 

Jughead shook his head. “No, it’s not that… just, too hot.”

“Okay, okay.” Betty grabbed the blanket Jughead had around him, tossing it to the floor.  

She knelt on the floor next to him, taking his legs and swinging them onto the couch. “Here, babe, take this off.” Had she just called him babe? Maybe he wouldn’t remember.

Jughead did as she said, gripping the bottom of his tshirt and pulling it off as best he could while laying down. 

Betty touched Jughead’s chest, feeling how hot and clammy it was beneath her hand. “Okay, Jug, they say you need to break fevers with more heat, don’t they? Shit, I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this.”

He didn’t answer, just kept breathing.

Betty grabbed her backpack from the floor and took out her pharmacy bag. She took out all the items, placing the on the coffee table, the grabbed the bottle of water. It was still cold.

“Here, take this.” Betty said, placing the water in his hand. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She got up, walking to the kitchen. She was looking for paper towel, but she couldn’t see any.

She walked around the trailer, looking for the bathroom. She found it and spotted a facecloth hanging by the sink.

She ran the faucet, making the water as cold as possible, then soaked the facecloth.

She rushed back to where Jughead was lying down, and placed the facecloth against his forehead. While she was gone he must’ve had a couple sips of water, because it was half gone.

He audibly sighed when she placed the cloth against his head. She ran a knuckle softly against his cheek.

“Is that helping, Juggie?” She murmured.

“Yeah. A lot. Thank you.” He whispered. 

Betty placed her hand at the edge of the couch. Jughead must’ve felt the weight there. He quickly slipped his hand in hers, squeezing.

Betty couldn’t help but smile.

“Jug, I also got you some medicine.”

His eyes popped open.

“Thank God,” He murmured, sitting up once more.

His eyes skimmed the coffee table, grabbing for the Buckleys cough medicine. He cracked the lid and put the bottle to his mouth.

Before Betty could stop him, more than half the bottle was gone. He had chugged it.

“Jughead, what are you doing?” 

“I want to feel better.” He shrugged.

“You’re going to be high off that stuff.”

Jughead lied back, resting his head against the arm rest once more. “Guess I shouldn’t tell you that I popped two cold pills before you got here.” He laughed.

“Oh my God, Jug. That’s not good.” 

“I’ll be fine.” Jughead whispered.

Betty sat there, not knowing what to say. She was still kneeling next to the couch, her hand back in Jughead’s.

Jughead was lying on the couch shirtless, the cloth on his head. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady. She thought he had fallen asleep, so she pulled the cloth off of Jughead’s forehead and replaced it with her hand, checking his temperature.

“Betty?” Jughead murmured quietly.

“Mm?” She answered, placing the cold pills directly in front of him.

“Thank you.” He said earnestly.

“For what, Jug?” 

“For doing this. Nobody has ever taken care of me when I was sick before.”

Betty had to bite her lip from the tears pricking her eyes. Just the thought of Jughead - how many times do you get sick in your life? - having to battle colds and flu’s by himself was making her emotional. Something so many people don’t think twice about, having someone to take care of them. She had just done what felt natural to her. She wanted to take care of him.

She squeezed his hand. “It’s my pleasure, Juggie. Get some sleep, okay?”


“Yeah, Juggie?”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Sure, Juggie. I won’t leave.”

She saw a smile spread across his face as he turned  onto his side. She released his hand and picked up the soup and tea, placing them in the kitchen.

She put the bottled water, cold pills, lozenges and cough medicine on the coffee table and moved the beer bottles and empty cigarette packs into the kitchen.

After a few minutes, she walked around the trailer, looking for Jughead’s room. There was only one bedroom, she assumed F.P.’s, the bathroom, a small kitchen area and the living room. It dawned on her that F.P. must’ve gotten the trailer after Jellybean and their mom moved away.

She walked back the the couch Jughead was on and saw he was shivering. Jesus, what kind of bug was this? 

She covered his body with the blanket and smoothed back his hair.

He opened his eyes at the touch.

“I don’t deserve you.” He didn’t say it in a sad way, nor a happy way. He was overheated and sick and exhausted. He was just being honest.

“You’d do the same for me, Juggie.” She smiled at him.

“How did I get so lucky?” He murmured, closing his eyes.

“I’m the lucky one, Jug.” She brushed his hair back again, his forehead feeling closer to normal.

“Don’t leave.” Jughead said, gripping her hand.

“I won’t, Juggie.”

“Lay down with me.”

“You might overheat again.” She warned.

“It’ll be worth it.” He said, closing his eyes. 

Betty laughed as she laid down beside him.

zach dempsey: forever missing her

Request: “ The reader is a musician, but no one had never seen her perform… Not even Zach, whom had a crush on her since they were kids… And she performs in the front of the whole school”
“The reader was her best friend and she is beating herself because she thinks she could have done something to stop Hannah… And she always had a crush on Zach and Zach likes her too, they’re friends but their relationship is affected because the reader gets to know about the tapes”
@ the-mormon-girl-in-the-books

Pairing: Zach Dempsey x Reader

Warning(s): None

Word Count: 323

Gif: –

A/N: These were two different requests, but I liked the idea of them together. I will make multiple parts, so be sure to follow!

Shadows settle on the place, that you left
Our minds are troubled by the emptiness
Destroy the middle, it’s a waste of time
From the perfect start to the finish line

And if you’re still breathing, you’re the lucky ones
‘Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs
Setting fire to our insides for fun
Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong
The lovers that went wrong

We are the reckless
We are the wild youth
Chasing visions of our futures
One day we’ll reveal the truth
That one will die before he gets there

And if you’re still bleeding, you’re the lucky ones
‘Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone
We’re setting fire to our insides for fun
Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our home
It was a flood that wrecked this

Well I’ve lost it all, I’m just a silhouette
A lifeless face that you’ll soon forget
My eyes are damp from the words you left
Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest
Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest

And if you’re in love, then you are the lucky one
'Cause most of us are bitter over someone
Setting fire to our insides for fun
To distract our hearts from ever missing them
But I’m forever missing

You strummed your guitar, ending the song. The school applauded your performance. You wiped the treat off your cheek.

“Thank you, y/n,” Principle Bolan stated. “That was a beautiful song in memory of Hannah Baker.”

The assembly ended with a moment of silence. Everyone was released from school. You stayed behind, packing up your guitar and putting away the amplifiers.

“Hey,” Zach approached you. You nodded at him.  He stood in silence, sensing that you didn’t really want to talk.

“So,” he trailed. “Your song was beautiful. I know Hannah would’ve liked it.”

You nodded, not really acknowledging him. Ever since Tony told you about the tapes and let you listen to them, you haven’t been yourself. You definitely haven’t looked at everyone the same- especially Zach. You carried your case, putting your sunglasses on when you exited the gym. You heard him chase behind you.

“Hey, y/n,” Zach called.

You got to your car, opening the trunk. You stored your guitar, moving around boxes and trash.

“Y/n,” Zach breathed. “Is everything okay?”

You looked into his eyes, seeing genuine hurt from your ignorance toward him. You felt your heart soften.

“I’m fine, Zach,” you sighed. “I just… I gotta get home.”

He nodded, gripping his backpack strap. He began to walk away when you got into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t drive away, though. You felt your body numb when you saw the necklace from Hannah hanging on your mirror.

You dropped your face into your hand, sobbing heavily into your palms. It was like yesterday that she sat in your passenger’s, singing with you to the radio.

You heard your passenger door open, seeing Zach sitting beside you. You blinked, removing tears, sniffling into your sleeve.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. He closed his eyes.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He then pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“I need to tell you something.”

Unexpected coachsurfing

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader 
Word Count: 2.5k+
Warning: Language, fluff, smut 

Summary: You travel to New York but you screw your airbnb booking, so you have two choices. The first one is spending the whole night on the streets alone. The second one is accepting the kind, utterly handsome stranger’s offer and stay at his place…

A/N: Hey Guys! It is my very first story in English, I hope you will enjoy it! Any comments are highly appreciated! Thanks for reading it!
Huge thanks to @littlemissavenger and @painfullythickimagines for helping me with this story!

Originally posted by stuckybarnesrogers

I was standing in front of the door with a shocked expression on my face, amazed at how I’d screwed this up. How I’d managed to mix up the dates? I looked down to my phone, to check my AirBnb account once again. My booking was there… Only the date was wrong; It started from tomorrow. I covered my face with my palms and walked out to the street. Alright, so I’m here, in New York at 6:30pm and I need to find a place to sleep very quick! I was lucky I found some wifi, so I could check couch surfing websites for something cheap.

It was an hour ago that I sat down on the bench in front of the McDonald’s but except for my growing hunger nothing has changed.

‘I just give up!’ I sighed and covered my face in my palms. ‘I’m gonna sleep under a bridge.’ I jumped up from the bench pulling my backpack with me to find a suitable bridge to sleep under. I was scared… I was really scared and angry at myself. I was all alone in city I have never been to before, with only a backpack and a dying battery. 34%… Awesome. I slip it into my pocket and thread my fingers into my hair.

‘Are you lost? Do you need help?’ A stranger is standing next to me, looking down at me curiously.

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late night kiss pt. 2

A/N: Ahhh, thank you all so much for the wonderful love that ‘late night kiss’ has gotten! I appreciate every single one of you, and all the love is what motivates me to keep writing. I hope you enjoy this part as much as you did the first.

Also, I might make this into a series with more than just two parts, but let me know if you’d be interested in a part 3….

summary: After the Spider-Man incident, you decide you need to tell your best friend, Peter Parker. It has some unforeseen, yet good, consequences.

pairing: peter parker x reader

01 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

You rushed into your algebra class, slamming your stuff down onto your desk, right beside Peter. He startled and looked at you with wide eyes. His cheeks were dusted with pink, but you chose to ignore it.

“I have to tell you something,” you said, looking at him intently.

“Wh-what—what—what is it?” he stuttered, rubbing his neck with one hand and then crossing his arms.

You raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior and then peeked at the clock. Your teacher was already setting up for class.

“You won’t believe what happened to me last night,” you told him. He raised his eyebrows in a gesture to continue, though his cheeks were starting to get a little darker. “Freaking Spider-Man showed up in my room,” you whispered, leaning in close.

Peter’s eyes darted down to your lips, but you didn’t notice. He laughed stiffly. “Oh?”

Keep reading

Sam is wearing this little pink skirt that is barely covering anything with his scuffed up converse wearing these light pink socks that go all the way up to his thighs and he’s just standing there in the middle of the doorway, gripping his backpack, staring back at Dean. There’s blush that’s starting to fan it’s way across Sam’s face and it’s too much for Dean.

Way too fucking much.

“Fuck, Sammy.” Dean groans as he suddenly pops up from the chair that he was sitting in waiting for Sam to return from school. He never, never thought that this was what he was waiting for.

Sam takes one tentative step into the room and then Dean’s right there, hovering over him and Sam barely has the chance to drop his backpack to the ground before Dean is shutting the open door behind Sam and then pinning him against it.

“Fuck.” Dean groans against Sam’s lips as he runs his hands up the socks and then up his bare leg only to momentarily pause when he feels that Sam is wearing nothing underneath. “Did you go to school like this?” Dean whispers into Sam’s ear.

Sam nods his head underneath Dean. “Yeah.” He replied. “Got sent to the principals office. They said that I couldn’t wear this.”

“Yeah? And what did you say?”

“I told them that they could shove it where the sun don’t shine.” Sam whispered, like that was the worst thing about this whole story. Like that was going to get him in trouble. Not the skirt.

Not the fact that he was about to get completely ravished in that skirt just moments from now.

“You’re wearing it tomorrow.” Dean said, matter of factly. “And the day after that.” He picked Sam up, lifting him by his bare little ass, still pressing him against the wall, sucking at the spot on his collarbone that was exposed because he was wearing one of Dean’s old t-shirts.

“I’ve got more skirts.” Sam moaned.

And it was all the right things to say to all the wrong people.


It’s okay Princess

#43 and #44 with Montgomery please? 💜  @hxnnxh-bxkxr

#43- “I don’t want to talk about it”
#44- “C’mon princess, please don’t cry”


Originally posted by montedelacruz

To say your life was tough was an understatement, but after all who didn’t have a tough life. Last night was especially troubling and you wanted nothing more than to move on from it, so you walked faster down your school’s hallway, thinking that if you walked fast enough you could walk away from all your problems, but sadly you knew that’s not how life worked. Your hand gripped your backpack strap so tight that your knuckles turned a pearly white color, you kept your head down and avoided eye contact with anyone, you were lucky enough that the bruises given to you last night were efficiently covered by your clothes, but were still susceptible to touch which you quickly found out when your highly affectionate boyfriend slung his arm around your shoulders “Hey babe, missed you at the game last night” he whispered playfully in your ear. You winced slightly as his arm rested on the two fresh bruises on your shoulders, your eyes rose up to look in his eyes. His big beautiful smile turning slowly into a frown “You okay?” he questioned after seeing the painful look in your eyes. You gave a meek smile and shook your head slightly “I’m fine, sorry I couldn’t make it, my mom wanted to discuss a few things” you replied, moving slightly closer to him, your side being pressed perfectly to him, you weren’t necessarily lying to him but you also weren’t telling the whole truth. He glanced forward, looking into the crowd before steering the two of you into an empty classroom “W-Why are we in here? Monty I’m gonna be late to class i promise i’ll make up for missing the game later” You spoke to your boyfriend, a playful, teasing smile smearing itself on your face as you backed into the classroom glancing around. Monty’s signature smirk flashed onto his lips as he shoved his hands in his pockets and peered into your eyes “C’mon baby, I know somethings going on, why don’t you talk to me” His voice ringed in your ear, calm and soothing. Your eyes traveled everywhere except to his, shaking your head slightly “I already told you De La Cruz, I’m fine, nothing’s going on and now all I want to do is get to class” And with every word you spoke you moved closer and closer to the door all up until his arm reached out and grasped your waist, pulling you closer to him. You winced in pain, your head down and eyes shut “Is it your mom?” his voice was a whisper as he asked a question he already knew the full answer to. Out of frustration, sadness and defeat you rested your forehead on his chest “I don’t want to talk about it” you responded, your eyes shut. A shallow breath escaped his lips as one of his hands wrapped around your waist and the other tangling itself in your hair “I know sweetie, I know” he murmured in your ear pressing you flush against himself. After a few moments of silence, you broke out into sobs, your hands grasping tightly at the back of his shirt “C’mon princess, please don’t cry” he basically begged you, you could sense how much your crying or even just being upset hurt him, hurt every fiber in his being, but you couldn’t help it, you were hurt “Why don’t we take the day off, go get some ice cream or something. I can get one of the guys to cover for us in classes” His offer brought a small smile to your lips as you nodded against his chest “I would love nothing more”. His arms gave you a careful but strong hug before releasing you and grasping for your hand “Then what are we waiting for? I wanna see a smile on those lips asap” His words alone did the trick as a genuine smile flashed upon your lips “There’s my girl”


can you please do a peter pan imagine based on “ I’m gonna show you crazy” by bebe rexha??thank you🌚

Warning/s: none. Not that I know of. (I’m an insensitive bitch)


Summary: you is a badass

Character: Peter Pan

Note: I used the music video as an inspiration to this

You were currently riding your skateboard to your god-forsaken school with your hands gripping your backpack effortlessly. You cursed as you heard the bell ring meaning that you were late for your first class.

“It’s so good for you to join us Ms. ___” you ignored your teacher and proceeded to take your sit. The teacher then proceeded to lecture the class about school regulations and how you should wear proper attires to school. You could tell that this day will be no different from the days before.

After school~

You went home to your mother telling you that there was going to be a family dinner and told you to get ready. You sighed knowing exactly what would happen again.

You went to your room to drop your bag and board down and played music until your sister banged at your door, letting you know that you should probably go downstairs because dinner is ready and mom always says “You can’t keep your guests waiting because that’s disrespectful.” You rolled your eyes at that thought. Your mom, your family rather, has always nagged you for always being you. Funny how everyone says that you should be yourself but when you are being yourself, they complain and ask you to change.

You sat down beside your sister as everyone else looks at you with disgust probably because you were wearing something unflattering for the rest of them. You ignored them as they continued to talk about their own conversations but you can still feel some of them were still judging you as you hear some “Why is she wearing those type of clothes?” or “She’s a bit different, yeah?” and you can see from your father’s face that he was getting annoyed not with the questions but with you. He had had enough with this edgy, rebel act you’re playing. “____, how about you and your sister go to the mall tomorrow and shop for new clothes?” he suggested. You looked at him with tilted head, “What’s wrong with my current ones?” He just gave you a look that says ‘Just do as I say’. You gave him a petty smile and shook your head while murmuring “You can’t control everything, you know.” To no one’s surprise, your father heard it and slammed his hands on the table while looking at you.

You looked at him with no emotions as you stood up and excused yourself to your room, ignoring your father’s angry calls.

You laid on your bed with your back, humming to yourself. “Well that was quite a show you did down there, don’t you think?” an unfamiliar voice came from your window spoke up. You scoffed at the strange boy looking about your age. “You think?” you asked as he looked at you with an amused face.

You followed his figure as he went to sit on a chair near your desktop. “I know that you feel lost” he spoke up.

“And who are you?” you asked this guy who started accusing you as ‘lost’.

“You don’t have to deny it” he ignored your question.

“Okay there, Peter Pan” you joked as you looked at his outfit. He looked at you with shocked eyes so you asked him “What?”

“How’d you know who I am?” he asked.

“I think you might have had too much pot for today.” You chuckled. “I’m ____, by the way.” You introduced yourself.

He just looked at you but this time, with a mischievous smile.

“How would you like to go to Neverland?”

does this make sense? | 06 (m)

pairing: min yoongi x reader, college! yoongi
genre/warnings: smut (not extremely detailed), drama, angst
words:  9,594
→ summary: You meet the mysterious Yoongi at a house party and no matter how uninterested you tell yourself that you are, you can’t say no to him. Can you end up changing his playboy ways, or will you just end up getting hurt?

» playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | + | ✓

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onyourleftbooob  asked:

If this hadn't been reced yet: archiveofourown*org/works/9629429 I just read it and it was perfect


Coming Home by charlesdk

“Steve, you don’t know a damn thing about that guy. The fact that you’re even considering keeping him in your house is crazy.”

“I don’t care.” Steve glanced over at the stranger, his face softening when he saw him sinking back into the couch cushions and gripping his backpack so tightly. “Sam, the guy looks like no one’s been nice to him for years. How am I supposed to be okay with just sending him off somewhere?”

Sam sighed heavily and looked heavenward. “I swear to God, if I come by tomorrow and find you dead in your bed, I’m gonna find a way to bring you back to life just to kill you again.”

OR – in which former army captain, current farmer Steve Rogers finds a bruised and battered and dirty stranger who remembers nothing and doesn’t speak in his barn. He takes him in, despite his friends’ advice not to, and helps him recover. It’s not easy. Especially not when, along the way, feelings get involved.


Send me drabble requests for Crowley Weekend!

Request: let’s get ready to rumble with crowley weekend!! i can so see him being UNBEARABLY flirtatious with the reader in front of sam and dean on a group hunt, just to see her reaction and bc he KNOWS it’ll irk dean to no end

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, flirting

Word Count: 802

Originally posted by weallneedcastiel

“As always, so smart, love.”

“Thanks?” You replied slowly as you glanced up from your laptop, confused at Crowley’s recent behavior. He had been complimenting you nonstop today while on a hunt with Sam and Dean.

Dean narrowed his eyes a degree, fingers rapping against the tabletop in a nearly agitated manner.

“Let’s pay Mr. Johnston a visit,” you told the group, having finally figured out who the rogue hellhound was off to kill next. You stood from the desk in the motel room and made your way to your bed to grab your backpack, not even making it two steps before Crowley appeared in front of you, your backpack in his grip.

“Need this?” He asked, a warm smile adorning his lips as he offered it to you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, something close to a blush burning at your cheeks as you took it and slipped the straps over your shoulders. You knew Crowley was snarky and sassy at times just for the hell of it, but having his kindness and attention directed at you with such intensity made you uncontrollably feel bashful, especially in front of the Winchesters. You flashed him a shy smile before moving past the brothers to head out to the Impala.

Crowley went to follow, but Dean shoved his hand out, stopping Crowley dead in his tracks.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, voice gruff, bordering on a growl as he stared Crowley down.

Keep reading

Originally posted by sterek-hale-obrosey

You walked into school, it was crowded as you expected. Your eyes were busy scanning the hallway searching new faces and more importantly your locker. You walked in with your head up, your hand gripping your backpack strap tightly trying not to show that you were feeling nervous. But that’s when you felt eyes on you, looking around carefully you came in contact with two pair eyes; one guy had blue and the other guy had brown.

You were sure they knew that you were werewolf because now that you were focused you could tell they were ones too. You looked in-between them seeing the locker they were leaning against and sighed.

“Of course,” You mumbled, ignoring the nerves you walked straight up to them. “Excuse me but you’re in front of my locker.”

“Oh… Do you need help unlocking it?” The brown eyed guy offered and stepped aside. “I’m Scott by the way.”

“You’re one of us,” The other one bluntly stated.

“Yes, I’m a student just like you and no… Thanks though.” You replied without a second thought as you focused on your new locker code.

“You know what I’m talking about and it’s only a matter time before you’re hanging out with us and me taking you on a date,” The blue eyed guy continued but kept it low.

“Shut up, Isaac.” Scott spoke up.

“What? I’m just saying.” Isaac shot back.

“Well, thank you guys for your help, really. But I could do this on my own.” You said looking between them.

Scott looked annoyed as Isaac just looked assumed, Scott lead the way to wherever they were going and your eyes stayed on them.

“I like her,” Isaac said sounding like he was grinning now.

“What makes you think she likes you back? Maybe I have a shot.” Scott said sounding annoyed.

You were definitely going to like it here.

Chemistry : Scott McCall x Reader

Originally posted by allpeopleareincredible

“Scott, how the hell are you failing Chemistry? It’s literally one of the easiest classes in Beacon Hills.” You flip through his test and can immediately spot a few insane answers.

Scott groans and slams his head onto the table. “I don’t know but if I don’t pass, I don’t get to play in the state lacrosse finals.”

“Hey, I can help you. It’s not that bad, you just have to listen to me and don’t say that you know how to do something if you don’t, okay?” you say, grabbing your textbook from your bag and throwing it on to the table. You sift through the pages to find the chapter on chemical equilibrium. Scott shifts his chair closer to you as he attempts to work out the problems on the homework. 

“(Y/N), I have no idea what they’re asking me to do on this! It’s impossible,” he says, running his hand through his hair.

“They’re just asking you to find the amount of energy it takes to heat the substance in this chemical equation.” You write out the formula that Scott needs to use and send him on his way. Both of you work throughout the night to get Scott to pass his final exam. 

You wake up the next morning on Scott’s couch with Scott still sitting at the table, his head on his textbook, drooling a little on the pages. Your phone alarm goes off and you grab your change of clothes from your backpack. Accidentally sleeping over has happened more than once, so you always packed an extra set of clothes. After you change, you wake up Scott and head to your car. He slides into the passenger seat and you both head to school, him extremely nervous for the exam.

“What if I don’t pass?” He says worriedly, gripping his backpack in his lap. 

“Then you don’t play in the finals,” you say nonchalantly. “But, you’re going to pass so there’s nothing to worry about.”

You pull into the parking lot and both of you rush to chemistry. Both of you make it just in time, right before the bell rings. Scott sneaks a glance at you before Mr. Harris passes out the test. 

Everyone uses the whole period to finish and Scott is the last one to finish. He stays after class to have Mr. Harris grade his answer sheet first. You wait outside the door and just hope that he passes. A couple minutes later, Scott comes running out the door, whipping his head from side to side, frantically looking for you. When he finally spots you, he rushes over, engulfing you in a hug. 

“I PASSED!” he shouts, pulling away from you. Then, all of a sudden you feel his lips on yours. Your eyes go wide and you push him away by his shoulders. “Oh god, I am so sorry.”

“That was…interesting. Not bad, just interesting,” you say matter-of-factly. 

“Interesting? Then, maybe we need to do a little more research.” Scott says with a wink.

R.M ▴ i

I’m still not accepting male character requests for maybe about another week-I just decided to write/post this now because I’m trying to avoid my math homework for a little bit longer. So-hopefully-enjoy!

Words: 456
Mixed Masterlist - Shorter Writings
General Masterlist - Main Writings

Rolling your eyes, you pat Reggie on the shoulder before walking off on him-sporting a small smirk as you hear him groan and start to follow you.

“Wait up,” he sighs, jogging to catch up the few steps you’d managed to take. He slips an arm around your shoulder and tugs you into his side.

Gripping your backpack’s handle with one hand, you use the other to wind around to his hip. “It’s not forever, Reg,” you tell him, squeezing him gently.

He scoffs, “It feels like it now,” he tells you.

Reggie glances down at you, his expression making your stomach sink. “It will fly by and before you know it-I’ll be back,” you try to assure him. He gives you a look that tells you all you need to know-he doesn’t believe your words. “I know this is going to be hard for you,” you say, “but it is for me too.”

“I know,” he mumbles. “I know. I’m going to miss you.”

Chuckling, you nudge his body gently, “I think it’s a given that I’m going to miss you too.”

He fell silent for a few minutes before speaking again, “Maybe you could just tell your parents that you don’t want to go?”

Sighing, you halt your movements-taking Reggie by the hand to drag him to the side of the hallway, not wanting to be in anyone’s way. “Reggie,” you begin, “I’ve tried. They really want this. And I’ve been thinking, maybe it will be nice to spend this time with them.”

“But why not in Riverdale?” he asks, moving his hand out of your grasp.

“After everything that’s happened here recently, do you really think our town is the best place for family bonding?”

Conceding once more, he sighs, “I guess not.” He moves backwards so he was leaning against the wall. “I’m sorry for being so…clingy,” he says, almost cringing at the word.

Your smile returns, “Don’t worry-I understand. Besides,” you continue, “it’s cute.”

Reggie mutters something you don’t hear under his breathe and pulls you against his chest. “I love you,” he mumbles against your hair.

Hiding your face in his chest, you cling to him tightly, “I love you too, Reg. Like I said, this trip will just fly by and I’ll be back home soon.”

“I hope you’re right,” Reggie tells you quietly.

“Am I ever wrong?” you tease. He hums a response in debate of your words, leading you to hit is side gently. “The answer was supposed to be no,” you grumble, causing him to laugh at your reaction. 

“We’ll see each other soon,” he says finally, kissing the top of your head. 

“Of course we will,” you reply firmly. 

COMING HOME by charlesdk

Word Count: 40k+
Chapters: 11
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

Moodboard Credit: @atticuos, the best cheerreader. ♡


“Steve, you don’t know a damn thing about that guy. The fact that you’re even considering keeping him in your house is crazy.”

“I don’t care.” Steve glanced over at the stranger, his face softening when he saw him sinking back into the couch cushions and gripping his backpack so tightly. “Sam, the guy looks like no one’s been nice to him for years. How am I supposed to be okay with just sending him off somewhere?”

Sam sighed heavily and looked heavenward. “I swear to God, if I come by tomorrow and find you dead in your bed, I’m gonna find a way to bring you back to life just to kill you again.”

OR – in which former army captain, current farmer Steve Rogers finds a bruised and battered and dirty stranger who remembers nothing and doesn’t speak in his barn. He takes him in, despite his friends’ advice not to, and helps him recover. It’s not easy. Especially not when, along the way, feelings get involved.

Read on AO3.