but bill's face he's like so into anything crazy she does

“Welcome,” she said. “Welcome, and thank you for agreeing to be a volunteer with Multnomah County Libraries. We are so grateful for you and your commitment to our community. For the next hour, we’re going to go over some important information that you need to know as a volunteer, no matter what role you play.”

I expected that we were going to learn about things like policies for canceling our shifts, or maybe where to find first aid kits. We probably did talk about those things. But the part that I remember most vividly is the first thing she talked about.

“We’re going to start with the Library Bill of Rights from the American Library Association,” she said, and she projected the text of the document onto the screen. “Everyone who works for libraries, including volunteers, helps to support and uphold the Library Bill of Rights.”

This was new to me. I’d been a regular patron at my local public library for years, graduating from Dr. Seuss to The Babysitters Club series to, most recently, my fixation on books about neo-paganism and queer sex. No one had mentioned this whole Bill of Rights thing. It was a short document with just a few bullet points.

“Libraries support free access to information,” Bess explained. “One of our core values is intellectual freedom. This impacts all of you because when you’re volunteering for the library, we expect you to support the rights of library users to find and read whatever they want, even if you don’t agree with what they’re looking for.”

She continued, “For example, let’s say that a small child came up to you and asked where to find the Stephen King books. You might think those books are too scary for someone that age, or that he shouldn’t be reading that kind of stuff. But that doesn’t matter. No matter what, we help people find the information they want, and we don’t censor their interests. Does that make sense?”

Heads around the room nodded, and I leaned back into the wall, letting her words sink in. It was absolutely, positively the most radical, punk rock thing I had ever heard in my life.

I can read whatever I want. No one can stop me.

I can help other people read what they want. And no one can stop them.

“This is core,” Bess added, “to a functioning democracy. We believe that fighting censorship and providing free, unrestricted access is key to helping citizens participate in the world. And, most importantly, we keep everyone’s information strictly confidential. So, even if you know what books your neighbor is checking out or what they’re looking at on the computer, you don’t share that with anyone.”

As someone who kept carefully guarded notebooks full of very personal thoughts, I was especially excited by the library’s emphasis on privacy. All of this sounded great. I wanted more. I wanted in. I wanted to be a crazy, wild, counterculture librarian-witch who would help anyone read anything from The Anarchist’s Cookbook to Mein Kampf. I would be a bold freedom fighter in the face of censorship. I would defend unfiltered Internet access and anatomically correct picture books. Maybe I was only in the eighth grade, but I was ready to stand up to anyone who tried to threaten the ideal of intellectual freedom. Fuck blink-182. Libraries were the real punk rock.



Phone Call

content: Dean gets a phone call at work. And the person on the other end of the line is not the one he expected.

word count: 1,147


Dean almost ignores the ringing cell phone next to him on the table because he’s seriously not in the mood to talk to anyone with an empty stomach and only about fifteen minutes left of his lunch break to change that.

But as soon as he notices the name “CAS” flashing on his phone’s screen Dean finds himself smiling brightly, the sandwich in front of him forgotten.

“Hey, Cas,” he says cheerfully after picking up. The warmth in his chest spreads instantly just thinking about the man on the other end of line and he feels like a giddy teenager once again. It’s been about ten months since they made their relationship official and Dean can’t imagine this intense feeling of rightness to ever go away.

“Hey, Dean,” a voice greets him that is most definitely not Castiel, sounding way too young and way too female.

Dean, however, doesn’t feel put out by it. On the contrary, his grin only grows.

“Claire, honey,” he says gently. “Does your dad know you’re using his phone?”

“Yes,” Claire claims, though there is a waver in her tone Dean knows way too well.

He narrows his eyes. “Are you lying to me right now? Remember what we told you about that?”

Claire sighs as if it’s a heavy burden to put up with some grown-ups. “Daddy knows,” she insists. “He gave it to me, so I can play with it.”

Dean chuckles. “Playing Candy Crush is not the same as calling some people, sweetie. Can you imagine the phone bill if you’d accidentally dial someone in China?”

“I don’t wanna call China,” she counters, the frown on her face actually audible through the phone. “I just wanna call you.”

Dean feels his heart seize. “That’s very sweet, Claire –”

“I miss you,” she interjects, her voice lower all of a sudden. “When will you be back and make us some burgers?”

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Boys - Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Title: Boys

Pairing: Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Imagine being Bill’s girlfriend and being casted to play Beverly’s older sister in the new IT movie. Even if you characters gets killed early you stick around for Bill and the kids who love nothing more than to tease him about your relationship because he is super sweet and cute with you.

“I wish I didn’t have to kill you.” Bill mumbled, almost pouting at you and you just chuckled at him, shaking your head.

“You can’t change the script, Bill!” you pointed out “But even as that, I promise I’m not holding a grudge on you. I’m sure if there is one man on this Earth whose arms I’d have to die in it would be you.” you said with a soft smile and for a moment he merely gazed back at you with a loving smile on his face.

“Die in my arms, not by them.” he said with an almost adorable frown as he looked down, swinging his long legs back and forth like a little child. Almost adorable because you couldn’t tell much of your boyfriend underneath all the crazy clown make up he had.

“Baby” you giggled how cute he was despite it all “It’s not your fault and you know that. Besides, come on Bill! I am very much alive and talking to you! It was just a scene, I’d love to have some on screen time with you but we couldn’t have that. Let’s just enjoy the time we have behind the scenes, yes?”

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anonymous asked:

How they get together

I was thinking about this all day at college oh my gosh, I hope you like it

(Ps , if you guys don’t specify who you want the headcanons for I’ll just do reddie and stenbrough)

Reddie :

- They’re 15

- Eddie and Richie were destined to be together since they first saw each other, let’s be real

- Eddie isn’t a ‘first move’ kinda guy

- And Richie is god awful with feelings and how to act on them

- He acts on them as a child would, by teasing Eddie as a way of flirting and being touchy with him as much as possible (pinching his cheeks and hugging him playfully)

- So as an attempt to act on said feelings, he takes Eddie to the Barrens one day alone, to tell him

- However the ‘Eddie, I really like you…like more than a friend’ he wanted to say, comes out as 'Eddie, I like you but not as much as I like your mum’

- Eddie gets pretty angry ('why did you bring me all the way to the Barrens just to make fun of me’)

- Richie fucking hates himself for being so scared of his own feelings, so he goes to Bev for help

- He offers her a pack of cigarettes for advice so she knows it’s serious

- 'Woman up Tozier , you pussy’

- later that night (like 10pm) Richie climbs (falls) through Eddie’s window

- Eddie gets up, ready to quietly yell at him as to not wake his mother

- but before he can say anything, Richie grabs him and hugs him super tight to his chest, resting his chin on Eddie’s hair

- He whispers 'Don’t say anything, let me explain’ and Eddie nods so Richie tells him how he chickened out of actually telling him earlier

- Whilst Richie was explaining, Eddie pushed his face into his neck and wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist

- After Richie finishes talking, Eddie kisses his cheek and says 'you’re my boyfriend now’

- Richie doesn’t argue that at all


- They’re 17

- These boys are so cute omg, they’ve been crushing on each other for like 3 years

- They’re both so jealous of Richie and Eddie’s relationship

- one day Bill is hanging out with just Eddie and Richie and he’s like 'guys, stop being cute when the guy I like doesn’t like me back’

- and that has Richie Tozier listening for once, who is this boy? Do we know him? What’s he like? Where does he live? Is he hot? ('You’re pushing your luck, Tozier’ - Eddie)

- Bill is super embarrassed that he let it slip that he has a crush on a boy but he answers Richie’s endless questions non the less

- after, Richie is trying to put the pieces together like he’s solving a murder and Eddie just straight up says 'Its Stan, Richie don’t hurt yourself’

- and yeh, Bill can’t deny it’s Stan because he’s not good at lying at all

- 'N-noo…why w-would I have a crush on Stan…that’s c-cr-crazy you guys…I would n-never’

- and yeh, Richie may have told Stan the next day without permission and without telling Bill

- Then at the weekend Bill goes to keep Stan company

- Stan casually mentions that Richie said Bill likes him and that he knows it’s BS because it’s Richie who said it

- Bill thinks it’s now or never so admits that he likes Stan, turning ready to run if he gets rejected

- Stan grabs his arm and tells him the feelings mutual

- They kinda sit looking at each other awkwardly for a bit until Bill breaks the silence

- 'So…b-boyfriends?’ 'Sounds good’

Add more please - xo

Purple Jewels (M) 01

Word Count: 6,494
Member: Jimin x Reader x Jungkook
Genre: Smut, (Supernatural????) Eventual fluffyness & Slight angst

Genie!Jimin ⇢ Part One | Part Two | Ongoing

When you fall in love with Jungkook and he isn’t there to catch you, a sudden surprise shows up to give you a little bit of help.


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Colored Pills (Richie/Eddie) 1/5

Definition of Amaranthine

1: undying

2: dark purplish-red


Edward Kasprak has no friends, and this does not surprise him. Richie Tozier has 5, and that surprises everyone (Except all of the friends who love him and would do anything for him.) Eddie’s mom cares too much, Richie’s too little and both of their fathers are gone in some capacity or another.

In a life stuck in black and white, their mental health both in tatters, colored pills are supposed to save them.

But maybe, if they try hard enough, they can save each other instead.


Bad Language, depression, mental illness’, ANGST, fluff, homophobic slurs


Hi, so this my first tumblr fic, and I’m excited slash nervous. If anyone wants to ever be on a taglist, and i have one so far, I am willing to add. Comments are so appreciated. This is also if Pennywise was never real, and the boys are 17. I really hope you like it, and I hope I post this right because I have no clue what I’m doing. Thank you!

In Derry, Maine or rather everywhere on Earth, people had soulmates.

When you first see your soulmate, when you meet them and touch them, your world turned from black and white to color.

In Derry, your soulmate was the person you had to be with, no question, and if you weren’t with them then you were outcasted, but most people wanted to be with their soulmates anyways, and they were with them from the moment they met them.

For example, when Bill Denborough met Stanley Uris, because he had accidentally bumped into him, the world turned to color.

Bill had just jumped back, and Stan stood there, shocked.

The boys, at the age of ten, had found their soulmate.

Things like this weren’t uncommon, like when Ben and Beverly brushed hands at the library and when Ben saw color he became so excited he just kissed Beverley right then and there.

Or when Mike met Alice, and he knew before they touched and she thought he was crazy so he just grabbed her hand and everything turned into color and she screamed.

These things were normal and expected.

And there were the two boys who hadn’t met.

Eddie had a system.

He would get up, take a shower, brush his teeth, get dressed, and eat.

Then he would do the whole thing over again, flicking the lights twice as he entered or left a room and turning everything on twice.

He would lock the door twice, make his bed twice, turn off the water twice.

Edward Kaspbrak did everything twice and he did that because he had a case of moderate OCD.

As for Richie, his predicament was different but just as debilitating.

The losers club, which were what Richie’s friends Bill, Stan, Beverley, Mike, and Ben, called themselves, had been calling themselves since they had become a group.

They were the ones who noticed something was off with Richie. One day he would be running at 4 in the morning, getting shit done, kicking everyone’s ass and just as quickly the next day, he wouldn’t talk or eat or get out of bed no matter how much you coerced him.

He also talked of the clown, the one that no one else saw or heard.

But all of that was common in people with bipolar disorder, the mood swings, the hallucinations which felt so real, the suicidal thoughts.

Only problem was, Richie had no clue he was even bipolar

His mom didn’t care, she was a drunk and a bitch. His father didn’t care because he was never even home.

But then, when Richie councilor noticed that Richie would either be unable to keep his attention in class or he just wasn’t there, his parents cared because they had to pay attention to him, and whatever problem he probably had.

So go deal with it, they sent him away to some fucking medical center that he was going to spend a year in.

And this was when Richie and Eddie would meet and they’re world would translate it to something bright and colorful.

And it was going to suck for them both.

Pennywise had an annoying obsession with red balloons, and Richie of course couldn’t see the color red but after knowing that was what the clown carried with him, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to see it. Pennywise would carry the stupid ass balloons around with him, and he would make this creepy smile through his face paint, and Richie hated it.

Richie’s fear of clowns definitely stemmed from the dancing clown who followed him around.

The clown, Pennywise, also liked eating children.

“Richie.” Pennywise chuckled, watching as Richie sat in his bed, which was encapsulated in the small white room he now resided in.

Richie turned his head to look away from the ball he had been previously smacking against the wall and looked at the clown.

“Pennywise.” Richie mulled in response before the ball hit the wall again with a thud and then landed back into Richie’s hand.

“You want a balloon? That would cheer you up wouldn’t it!” The clown gave a high pitched laugh before extending his arm forwards, balloon in hand.

Richie had to fight the urge to punch the clown in the face.

It was in this moment, the one right before Richie yelled, the Eddie turned the corner with his freshly washed blankets and pillow and into his new room.

“No jackass! I don’t want a fucking balloon, why the fuck would you ask me that?!”

Eddie stopped in the doorway and looked at the boy before speaking up.

“Wow trashmouth, this is a nice thing to walk into your new room with,” Eddie muttered, and he could already feel the tension. It didn’t help that he could feel the dirt from in the walls. He looked around the room for a moment. “Who are you even yelling at?”

Eddie dropped the blanket and pillow on the bed and wheeled his suitcase to the wall before pulling out his hand sanitizer and putting some on his hand.

Richie could tell the young boy was analyzing the room around him.

He began rubbing it in and Richie could practically feel the burning in his own cut and bruised skin, but he ignored it.

“No one. It’s not real,” He said, and he was mostly saying it for himself. Eddie knew it would be rude to push, especially because he didn’t even know why this boy was here, so he kept his mouth shut, instead, beginning to put his stuff away.

Richie eyed him from afar, and he was almost certain he knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, considering he was now turning on the lamp for the second time in a row, but he had to ask anyways because he had to know what his roommate was like.

“So what did they put you in here for?” Richie asked.

Eddie looked at the boy, and he knew this question was gonna he asked so he should have been prepared but he really wasn’t. He took a deep breath before responding.

“Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,” Eddie replied simply and Richie raised his brows like he hadn’t known.

“Ah,” Richie replied simply, and he waited for the other boy to ask him back but Richie realized he may be too polite for that, so instead he told him. “They say I’m bipolar, moderate to severe. The whole nine fucking yards, mood swings, wanting to die, hallucinations. All that fun shit.”

Eddie nodded his head, and the yelling made more sense, but he figured it had been a hallucination in the first place.

So he asked about the hallucinations because even though he didn’t know this boys name, he seemed pretty open.

“What do you see?” Eddie asked, and Richie laughed lightly.

“You’re gonna think is weird, all of my friends do.”

Eddie had thought about saying something along the lines of, well at least you have friends that think your shit is weird because I don’t have any, but he didn’t.

“I don’t think anyone here has the room to judge anyone else, including me,” Eddie told him. Richie nodded his head.

“Well I see this thing,” He started, and Eddie shifted to sit on his own new bed, placing his slippers down on the ground and sitting crisscross. Richie sighed. “His name is Pennywise, the dancing clown. He’s creepy and he carries around red balloons and he eats children.”

Eddie thought about commenting on the eating children, but something else was pressing more in his mind.

“You can see color?” Eddie asked him. Richie tilted his head, in confusion.

“Why would you ask that?” Richie asked, wondering what that had to do with Pennywise.

“Well you said he carried around red balloons, so you can see them as red?” Eddie asked. Richie’s confusion melted away from his face.

“Oh. No. He’s just told me they are because it represents the blood of the children he eats,” Richie replied. This time Eddie had to say something about the children.

“That’s fucked up,” Eddie said, and Richie hadn’t really expected it for some reason. “Eating children, that’s so fucked.”

“You’re right there, Mr. Clean,” Richie said, pushing his glasses up on his nose and then looking back at the smaller boy who was now frowning “It is damn fucked.”

“Okay Trashmouth, my name is Eddie, so don’t call me Mr. Clean.” Eddie replied, already becoming annoyed by the curly haired boy with the coke bottle glasses, but for some reason, he was also so drawn to him and Eddie didn’t particularly like the feeling.

“Oh, I’m sorry Ed’s. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He said, and he didn’t let Eddie respond to him to the new “I’m Richie but apparently you know me as trashmouth.”

Eddie didn’t want to laugh, because then the other boy would know that he thought he was funny, but he couldn’t help it.

He just thought the boy was kinda funny and kinda witty and he liked it.

He liked it a whole fucking lot.

TAGLIST: @edsrich @reddie-is-canon @to-obsessed @jamespottev  @exceededexpectations  @eddies-inhaler  @mbates12  @welcometotheoceanofno @caterpillars-of-the-commonwealth @the-losers-club00 @blackslipons  @all-my-reddie-fics @temptedtozier @howellhxlic  @tastefulcaring  @anniewdoodles @simply-pink16  @plutaars @jerome-valeskalaughs  @nirraein @crazybunny02-blog @ahyesfandoms@secondtimethecharm @velvetinetears

Ruby Kisses

Request:  Maybe turn the headcanons into an imagine of the reader and Patrick getting caught by her parents? Also love the concept of being Stan’s older sister! Maybe all the losers are having a sleep over at his house when the reader gets caught with him!

AN: i was gonna make a smutty version but then i got another kinda fluffy idea in my head and i ran with it. if y’all want a more Rated R version then hit me up bc i’m so down for nsfw patrick :) and this is way longer than i thought it would be wow, sorry

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Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean faces the biological downsides of being an Alpha, perhaps you could help him out? 

Warnings: past lover and death, otherwise fluff

Part Two

Part Three

yeee…A/B/O dynamics and Sam ain’t knowing shit. BTW this is my personal take on a certain topic that will follow in this fic. I don’t like the idea of an Omega being the only one being super domestic ;)

Enjoy 2639 words of pure…whatever you want it to be <3

He ignored it. At first. The endless tearing of fabric, low growling and unholy curses. Nipping on his beer, Sam simply continued reading his book trying not to interfere with his Alpha brother and the problems that came with the title. It was only when Dean emerged in the living room, a slightly crazed look in his eyes Sam sat up nervously, trying to figure his brother out.

“Everything alright?”

Glowing green eyes met his nervous ones.

“Yeah, I just need…” Dean’s voice was airy, the usual hoarse gruff was somewhat softened and he looked like a man who just ran a marathon. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his lungs trying to fill as much air into them as possible.

Footsteps full of intent led Dean to the sofa. Inspecting the piece of furniture for a minute, Sam’s eyes widened when his brother started ripping the cushions from it. He looked comically, almost stupid balancing the soft pillows, practically buried underneath the mountain of cushions. “…I need those.”

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anonymous asked:

Ooh!! What do you think each loser would react on riding roller coasters? :)


Eddie: YOU PROBABLY GUESSED IT BUT this kid is terrified of roller coasters. His mom had told him that 5,000 people a year die on roller coasters (which even Eddie knew that was a gross exaggeration) and he vowed to never go on one… that is, until Richie Tozier happened. The Losers went to their local theme park and it took Richie about an hour to bribe Eddie into going on the ride with him (”I’d never let anything bad happen to you, Eds” “Here, come on the ride with me and I’ll do whatever it takes to get that stuffed bear I saw you looking at earlier”). Eddie finally got on the ride and held onto Richie for dear life and hid in the crook of his neck and guess what…..HE LOVED IT. He never told Richie that though so now when they go to the park Richie bribes him and gives him cute words of encouragement and it makes Eddie blush like crazy. 

Richie: You mother fucking know this kid tries to ride in the very front of every single roller coaster. He’s the one thats clapping in line and getting all giddy every time the ride comes back for another group of people. He will only let Eddie sit with him. Plot twist: Richie knows that Eddie secretly likes the roller coaster but he likes to watch him blush when he promises the shorter boy that he’d never let him go. 

Beverly: She’s the opposite of Eddie. She pretends like she loves roller coasters but secretly she’s scared of heights. When the ride gets to the top her heart drops and she closes her eyes and clutches the bar in front of her. After the first drop she opens her eyes and things are better. Her favorite part of the rides are when they are nearest to the ground.

Ben: He isn’t afraid of rides, he just gets real real sick. He will go on them and have fun but there NEEDS to be a trashcan somewhere in short walking distance when the ride is over because he’s gonna need it. It does not ruin his time though. Mike laughs at him because Ben will ride the ride, get off, puke, and then smile and say “Let’s go again!”

Mike: This dude’s a thrill seeker. He likes the roller coasters that go upside down and will be the first to hold his arms above his head when they’re at the tip of the ride before the massive drop. He and Richie have competitions like who will make the funniest faces when the camera takes a picture of them mid drop. So far Mike is winning the competition but that’s because Mike doesn’t have Eddie clutching onto him all the time (but hey, Richie isn’t complaining).

Stan: So Stan takes the “Let’s not and say we did approach” because he really doesn’t like big roller coasters. He would normally wait by the exit for his friends until Bill started standing outside near the exit with him. Stan tried to tell him it was okay and that Bill can go be with the other Losers but Bill insisted, “It won-n-t be as fu-un with-ou-out yo-u.” Now Bill and Stan make it a habit to sit together when the gang goes on big roller coasters or they head over to the funnel cakes and share one with brown sugar. 

Bill: He can take it or leave it. They’re fun to go on but he also takes joy in knowing that all of his friends are having fun. When he saw that Stan didn’t like the big scary roller coasters, he immediately decided that making Stan happy would bring him more joy than any roller coaster ever could. One time he talked Stan into going on the carousel and it was the most he had ever seen Stan smile in his life (and Bill loved it).

Come On Eileen

Wow!! We out here!! Thanks to @spookyflashlight for going through this with me to make sure is was *worthy* please make requests!! I would love to do them! anyways, here is this short Reddie thing that I wrote because this is one of my fave songs. Also there’s stenbrough if you squint and benverly. 

Based off of the song Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners

Warnings: Cursing (as usual lol), kissing, slight homophobia (internalized and external), and also my kids dancing to this great song

It starts like this: Richie is sitting on Eddie’s bed after a long, shitty day, when the song comes on. It had been raining all day, and there was no sign of it stopping. To make matters worse they had to walk back to Eddie’s house in the downpour, and had a run in with Bowers and the rest of his pack on the way. They had luckily gotten away with nothing more than a few bruises that had yet to form, but it made Eddie’s mood match the weather outside.

Eddie can already feel his heart thrumming with love for the music, desperately wanting to dance to it, but not wanting to embarrass himself in front of Richie. Lord knows he would say something. He’s already had the worst day, his mood seemingly unable to lift. Richie does indeed say something, but it’s not at all what Eddie thought he would.

“Dance with me, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie stands, his tone dreamy, grabbing Eddie’s hands and they begin to twirl.  

Eddie wasn’t dancing full force by any means. This wasn’t a twirling song, this was a jump up and down throw your limbs in every which way song. Eddie knew that, Richie knew that, and still they swayed the first time it played. That was fine; that was perfect. For the first time in a while Eddie didn’t feel like he had to be anything other than who he was.  

Richie was spinning the smaller boy around the room, his worries effectively slipping away like wicks of water. The slow part of the song came on, and Richie had slowed down his moves, snapping and speeding up as the song had, and clutching onto Eddie and jumping towards the climax of the song. Smiles seemed like they would never leave their faces, and the song ended, leaving the two boys to collapse onto Eddie’s bed, and hearing Mrs. Kaspbrak to yell up the stairs;

“Eddie! Don’t play your music so loud, you know it hurts your ears!”

They boys have stitches in their stomachs after that.

The second time it played, it’s years later at a school dance. He and Richie hadn’t gone together, but they were together. Sipping on spiked fruit punch (courtesy of Richie) and listening to too many romantic songs. Eddie felt a burning in his chest, his anxiety was rising, and instinctively he reached for the inhaler he knew wouldn’t be there anymore. Richie seemed to notice, like Richie notices everything about Eddie, and struts over to the DJ, muttering a few sentences and not so discretely sliding him some bills, before the song comes loudly on the speakers and Richie walks back over to his crush.

“May I have this dance, Mr. Kaspbrak?” He hums, extending his hand for Eddie to grasp. Eddie’s cheeks heat up, glancing around at the eyes glued to their interaction.

“Richie, you don’t have to…the people here…” He trails off, making his hands stay limp at his sides. Richie takes Eddie’s hand, leading him towards the dance floor, ignoring Eddie’s nervous complaints about what are people going to say?

“You really think I give a damn about what people say about me? They don’t know a thing about me, or about us. Don’t give them the satisfaction, Eds.” Richie murmurs, close to Eddie’s ear so nobody else can hear what he has to say. “Please, dance with me.”

With those words, Eddie’s hands grip Richie’s, and they begin a seamless dance. It seems like they’ve both been practicing the moves for forever, but they haven’t danced to this song since that day in Eddie’s bedroom.

Richie lets Eddie lead for about half the song, jumping and shaking their curly hair as they go crazy with the intense music. Richie can see Eddie mouthing the words with passion, and when the slow part comes, he does the same thing he did years ago, approaching Eddie with snaps speeding up as the music does, but this time instead of Richie throwing his arm around the boy, Eddie beats him to it. Even though Eddie is smaller than Richie, Richie is surprised at how strong the grip around his arms is, and they begin to jump together once again.

It’s at this moment that two boys look away from each other and realize that nobody is staring at them, instead, they’re all dancing with their respective friends or dates, giving no mind to the two gay boys. It’s at this moment that Eddie realizes that he wouldn’t give a damn even if they were staring, because goddamn it, he loved Richie Tozier. He loved Richie Tozier and he was going to kiss him if it was the last thing he did.

He did.

(It wasn’t the last time.)

The third time Eddie is so free, because they’ve moved from Derry, and it definitely adds to their life span. He and Richie live in a small studio apartment in L.A, and the song comes on over their radio. They’re both doing work on their bed, but almost immediately, Richie jumps up, pulling on Eddie’s hands for him to follow. Eddie groans, but he’s not really unhappy, he’s so happy.

Dancing ensues, Richie’s hands on Eddie’s hips as they execute wild moves and jumps. Eddie and Richie alternate in twirling the other. They yell and laugh and scream the lyrics, along with impersonating the instruments (Richie is much better at it than Eddie). There is little to no room to be doing this, and they know that they’re going to get a noise complaint when Richie turns to volume dial almost to max.

Eddie is swaying while Richie twirls the pen he put in his mouth with his tongue. They grasp each other’s hands and just start hopping in place, and by the end of it, their downstairs neighbors are banging on the ceiling for them to stop jumping, and both of their cheeks hurt because their smiling and laughing so hard. They collapse collectively on the bed, papers crinkling and pens flying. Eddie turns to his boyfriend of four years, just as Richie does the same. As if they were connected,

(They were)

They asked the


Question at the



“Marry me?”

They say yes at the



The fourth time the song plays, Eddie’s heart is in his stomach. His mother didn’t go to the wedding. She called him sick. Homosexuality is a sickness. He’s still sick. He’s always been sick, hasn’t he? He’s always been very fragile, right? The only problem was that when he looked at Richie, his husband, he didn’t feel sick. He didn’t feel sick when Richie made his heart race, he didn’t feel sick when he would kiss him. He felt the best he’s ever felt when he’s with him. How could he be sick when Richie was his cure?

It’s a small wedding. Close friends and family. Bill and Stan, and their daughter; Georgia. Ben and Bev, Mike and his mother, and a few work friends. The reception is held at Bill and Stan’s new house, and Richie made Eddie promise to let him choose their first dance song. He’s waiting anxiously as Richie uses Stan’s iPod to find the song and hook it up to their loud speakers. Stan put Georgia on his shoulders to act as an announcer.

“Now intwoducing Uncle Eddie and Uncle Wichie!” She yells, not able to pronounce her ‘r’s very well.

Richie is standing in the middle of their living room, his tie loosened and his jacket unbuttoned. With one hand in his pocket and the other extended to his husband, Richie beckons Eddie to him, and Eddie hears the beginning notes.

“You didn’t.” Eddie laughs, quickly latching his hand onto Richie’s.

“What else would I pick?” Richie smiles, pulling Eddie towards him, and immediately starts a quick-paced box dance.

Soon enough the rest of the Losers and the other guests join in, Georgia insisting on dancing with the newlyweds, grasping each one of their hands in her own and simply spinning in a circle and dancing. Near the end, Stan steals her away, and Eddie and Richie are left back to slowly dancing, barely keeping up with the beat. It didn’t matter.

“Jesus fuck, Eds. Twelve years. Twelve years I’ve loved you.” Richie smiles, and Eddie blushes.

“Stop. You’re making me blush.” Eddie giggles and Richie places his lips on his husband’s.

“That’s exactly why I’m doing it. Plus the whole I-married-my-first-love thing I got going on.” Richie speaks and Eddie blushes even harder rolling his eyes.

“I’ve loved you for thirteen, so; beat that Kaspbrak.” Eddie smirks, using Richie’s new last name.

“Oh, you’re so on, Kaspbrak.”

The song fades out, and they kiss once more, letting it last until Georgia yells in glee;



Request: “You should make an it imagine where she is the first girl and when bev comes around she self conscious because she is thicker than other girls her age and she likes bill and her fear is being alone, like no one wants to be with her because maybe her dad left at a young age. She wears all black and stuff like that. With the cliff scene where they jump, a scene with her fear and when penny wise is trying to be killed. Sorry for it’s so long it’s just I watched it Friday and fell in love with them.”

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader

Warnings: Body insecurities 

A/N: The reader will have Hannah’s body type in this imagine and there’s nothing wrong with that because she is beautiful everyone is in their own way I just wanted to let you all know.

You were pretty secure about your body, well sometimes. There were times when you absolutely loved your body but then there were other times when you hated it. You were a complicated person with a complicated way of thinking but that still didn’t stop you from having friends. It was pretty easy to love your body when your friends were just guys.

Bill, Stan, Eddie and Richie were boys and although they were a lot thinner than you it didn’t bother you because they were men. That all changed when Beverly came into the group. Yes you were happy that you wouldn’t be the only girl in the group but you envied her petite figure and small frame. 

She was beautiful and so were you but you still couldn’t help but feel inferior and a slight bit jealous. What you didn’t know was that every girl in Derry High School including Bev envied your curves. You had a beautiful hourglass figure that made your curves stand out even more. Guys commented on this as well but they were more perverted about it saying how since you had a big butt and breasts they would ___ you anyday. 

Expect for the gentlemen that were Bill, Stan, Eddie and Richie they would say that you were really beautiful. But that’s it no nasty and disgusting things they were the definition of a gentleman. They were the only group of boys that truly respected women (as well as Ben and Mike but they haven’t met them yet)

You however mostly focused on Bill and what he thought about you. You had a huge crush on him and the only person who knew at the moment was Stan. You felt like you could trust him the most obviously you wouldn’t tell Richie because he was the big mouth of the group with no filter. As for Eddie you trusted him but not enough for him to keep a secret like that.

Keep reading

Tattooed Heart

Characters: tom holland x reader

Concept: tom as a tattoo artist… or is he?

Notes: I really loved writing this and even started plotting of what will happen next because it became something that has a potential of becoming an official fanfic but… who knows. Tom in this imagine is still Tom but he is not an actor, his character is different but his personality is still the same (if that makes any sense?) 

Please tell me what you think as this is one imagine I’m really proud of writing, especially in only just a day.

Song: As You Are - The Weeknd

P.S.: I’ll be making a masterlist soon, so keep an eye out for that!


“You’re done.”

“Bullshit,” you reply.

“We’re closing already, miss,” the bartender tells you as he takes away your unfinished bottle.

“I’m not even halfway drunk yet,” you whine but pull out your wallet and hand him a tip anyway. “Thanks.”

You hop down from the stool and notice that only you and a couple of other people being dragged outside are left in the bar. You take out your phone to let your friend know you are on your way home as you make your way to the exit.

The air is cool and comforting but it does nothing to cease the pain that you wished to drown out with alcohol. You hail a taxi and get inside, announcing your address to the driver as you sit back.

Your plan to lose yourself had failed tonight and now you’re left to deal with your misery. You were never the type to hate anyone but you hate the one guy you thought you trusted the most.

Fuck him.

No, you know what? Fuck anyone who has ever cheated.

At this thought, your throat constricts and you start to feel the tears start to form behind your eyes. You blink rapidly to try to keep them from falling but fail. You wipe them off right away and start hating yourself for not being able to get yourself drunk enough to forget.

You needed at least one night, one moment, where your head and heart aren’t fully invested in the pain that you’ve suffered for the past hours. You needed a distraction, something-

And then you see it…

“Stop the car!”

The taxi skids to a stop and a flustered driver turns to you, completely shaken up. You reach into your wallet and hand him a couple of bills before you step out of the vehicle. You stand on the wet sidewalk, in front of a small building with neon signs declaring it as a tattoo shop.

You incline your head to try to get a look inside through the window but see nothing. Is it even open?

You start to have second thoughts but the taxi has already left and you really don’t want to be out in the streets alone. You walk forward and pull on the door which swings towards you easily. You step inside and soft rock music is playing from somewhere farther down. The walls are painted red, furniture and decor compliment them in black. Leather chairs sit at one end of the floor, below a huge wall plastered with nothing but pictures and designs of tattoos.

You step closer to the wall and start to admire one tattoo that looks like a dragon being born from a rose. The colors, the details from the veins of the flower’s petals to the scales of the dragon, have you wondering if you didn’t accidentally step into a museum.

“What do you have in mind?”

“What the fu-!” You jump as your hand flies to your chest to somehow calm your now frantic heart. You turn slowly and a guy is leaning on the clear, glass counter that sits in the middle of the room; separating the waiting area to the rest of the shop.

The guy seems to be in his twenties, although his face has a certain boyish look to it. He’s definitely attractive, you have no doubt about that. He’s wearing a leather jacket with a black v-neck underneath. Usually, you would run away from someone so good looking but the bit of alcohol you drank gives you little confidence enough to stay.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles and it’s then that you notice his english accent.

He has an accent, for fuck’s sakes!

“Uh, no, it’s fine,” you turn to look at the wall of tattoos again. “I actually don’t know what I want to get.”

“You like Rosy?” He says and you look to see him walk around the counter and make his way to stand next to you.

His fragrance hits your nostrils and you have to refrain from moaning. He smells exactly how a man should smell; husky and sexy at the same time.

“Who’s Rosy?” You ask, your voice wavering a little.

He points at the design of the dragon and the rose. “Get it? She was born from a rose.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I get it. It’s beautiful.”

You feel him glance at you as you stare at the design. Your cheeks burn from the intense attention he’s giving you.

“What brings you here?” He asks.

You shake your head and shrug. “Needed to get away-”

“-from reality,” he finishes for you.

You look at him and nod, smiling. “I bet you get a lot of those around here, huh?”

This time, he’s the one who shrugs. “I get a lot of stories. It’s one of the reasons I love the job.”

“So these are all your designs?” You ask, pointing at the wall. He nods and says nothing more. “Then why is it so empty?”

You both look around the room. Then he starts to chuckle, “I barely opened a few minutes ago, love. It doesn’t get crazy until much later.”

He called you ‘love’.

“Do you have an idea of what you want to get?”

“Yes. The word ‘DUMBASS’ on my forehead, please?”

“Sure, follow me,” he simply replies.

Your eyes go wide as they watch him start walking towards the back. “Hey, wait! I wasn’t actually being serious!”

“You weren’t?” He continues walking, forcing you to follow him anyway.

“I don’t want that as my first tattoo!” You insist.

“Then why are you following me?” He turns to look at you, his eyebrow raised and a smirk playing at his lips.

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips and you realize that it’s the first genuine smile you’ve had since you found out-

“Take a seat,” he tells you once he leads you into a vast room. A black leather chair sits in the middle of the room, the kind of chair that dentists have in their office.

You sit down and watch as he walks around the room, picking up instruments and small bottles of colored ink.

“I haven’t even told you what I want,” you tell him as your nerves start to take over.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his back facing you as he fumbles with something.

“I don’t really think I have enough trust to give out to anybody anymore,” you sigh. “Especially to someone I don’t even know.”

He pauses what he’s doing and doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. You try to remember if you said anything that might have caused him to be offended. He then starts to remove his jacket and places it on the counter. Even from here you can tell he’s toned underneath his shirt and his exposed arms confirm it. He turns around slowly and takes a seat on the individual chair set up next to the one you’re sitting in.

“I’m Tom,” he says and reaches out with his hand.

You stare at his hand and then at him and then back down to his hand.

“I’m y/n,” you reply and slide your hand into his. It’s unexpectedly warm but smooth and he seems to hold your own hand for a while before he lets go.

“We know each other now, don’t we? Will you trust me?”

“It’s not that simple…” you start and he gives you a small smile.

“Will you let me tattoo you?” And the way he asks that question, the softness of his voice and the way his eyes stay glued on yours, makes you feel like that’s not really the question he wanted to ask. “I already have some things in mind… I can put one here,” he touches the inside of your wrist, “or here.” He slides his fingers up your arm until they reach the crease of your elbow, your whole arm erupting into goosebumps. He notices and glances quickly up at you before he continues, “A lot of people get small ones here,” he tells you and he’s leaning forward now. He pushes your hair back behind your shoulder and then touches your neck, just below your ear. His proximity and that intoxicating smell of his has you almost swooning.

“Will it hurt?” You ask breathlessly.

He’s so close to your face and he doesn’t seem to want to retreat anytime soon and it’s starting to make you feel lightheaded.

“It’s less painful than being heartbroken,” he states and finally sits back. He grabs the small gun where he attaches a black ink bottle.

You’re staring at him, completely shocked at what just came out of his mouth. “How- how did you know?”

“Your eyes,” he states as he squirts some ink onto a tray until the ink comes out. He glances up at you before taking your hand and pulling it towards him. He places your arm on the armrest of the chair and turns it so that your palm is facing up. “Do you trust me?”

Here’s this guy you barely met, with an tattoo gun in his hand, ready to permanently draw on your skin. Just a few hours ago, you swore to never trust any guy again.

“I trust you,” you murmur and you’re surprised when your words don’t carry regret in them.

He grins, “Good. You can’t look until I’m finished, though.”

You roll your eyes but lean back in the chair anyway. You hear the buzz of the gun as he powers it on and your heart stops. He senses your tension and you feel his hand lay on top of yours. You grip it tightly.

“Relax, love. I got you,” he says softly.

You take a deep breath and let it out and then feel the needle penetrate your skin. Again and again and again. Repeatedly.

“Who’s the asshole?” Tom asks as he continues to work and hold your hand.

“My boyf- my ex-boyfriend,” you reply and your thoughts drift to that moment you walked in on him in bed with someone else.

Tom was right. The needle poking your skin over and over is nothing compared to the ache you feel in your chest.

“What a dumbass,” is all Tom says but it makes you smile.

“How come you don’t have any tattoos?” You ask him as you recall not seeing any on him.

He stops tattooing you and then his face appears in your line of vision. “How do you know I don’t have any that you can’t see?” He smirks a playful smirk before disappearing once again and continuing your tattoo.

“When you’re done, can I see them?” You don’t even know what made you ask that but you were curious.

He doesn’t respond right away. “I’ll think about it.”

You continue to have small conversation and you learn that he dropped out of art school to pursue the dream of being a tattoo artist. He tells you that even though he doesn’t earn as much as a heart surgeon, creating art on someone’s body is much more satisfying.

The thoughts of your ex cheating on you completely disappear as you listen to his stories and he listens to yours. The hole in your chest is still there but the needle Tom uses to ink your skin seems to help ease the feeling.

“Almost done,” he tells you as he swipes your wrist with a damp towel several times. “I think that’s it. Ready to see it?”

You sit up straight and he lets go of your hand. He watches you as you look down at your wrist; where your skin used to be vacant, it is now embellished with a beautiful flower. Small dots decorated its shadows and all around it, creating depth. Blue ink outlined its petals while pink ink colored them in.

“Wow,” you breathe out. “What kind of flower is it?”

“A lotus flower,” he tells you. “They say that lotus flowers bloom no matter the bad or good weather. It made me think of you. Beautiful, no matter the situation you’re going through.”

At this, you look up at him and he’s staring at you so intently, it feels like your whole body is on fire.

“Now it’s your turn,” you tell him.

He chuckles as he stands up and walks towards a cabinet where he takes out some materials. “My turn for what? You’re going to tattoo me?”

“No, why would I scar you like that? Show me your tattoos!”

He sits back down next to you and pulls your arm towards him once again. He starts to bandage your wrist, placing a clear cover over your tattoo and taping it down. He then stands up and with his eyes glued to yours, he reaches behind him and pulls his shirt over his head.

Your jaw probably hits the floor because the sight in front of you is absolutely mesmerizing. His abs stand out immediately and everywhere your eyes roam, there is nothing but muscle and firmness.

“I just have a quote on my shoulder,” he points out to you.

“Well I can’t see it from down here,” you say and stand up. He’s still a little too tall for you to tell what it says. “Sit,” you order and he gives you a smirk before he sits on the chair.

You stand behind him and look at the lettering that spell out words you cannot comprehend. “What does it say?”

“Try to sound it out,” he replies.

Non accipiet sed facilisis,” you say slowly.

He suddenly stands up and faces you. He towers a bit over you and the fact that he’s half naked makes you feel a bit intimidated. He’s grinning sweetly down at you as he speaks, “It means ‘take it easy but take it’ in Latin.”

“Why did you want me to sound it out?” Your voice comes out shakily.

“I wanted to hear it said in your voice. It sounded better than I expected.” He’s standing so close, his body heat can be felt even through the layers of your own clothing. “Did it help?”

“Did what help?”

“Getting your first tattoo to help you forget about your ex?”

“That,” you can’t help but smirk, “and some other things.”

“Hmm.” His lifts his hand and uses his fingers to push your hair back behind your ear. He continues his path down to your neck and then up to hold your chin. “Would you let me tattoo you again?”

His eyes stare straight at your lips and you know exactly what’s going to happen next. You can hear your own heart beating so fast, you think that maybe you’ve gone deaf.

“At this point, I’ll let you tattoo anything anywhere you want,” you whisper.

He smirks. “Good girl,” and then he’s leaning down, slowly, and you close your eyes and-


The shouts come from outside the room and you take a step back, completely startled.

“Fuck,” Tom spits out and then puts his shirt back on. He shoots you an apologetic look, “I’ll be right back, just stay here, okay?”

“Are you sure? I can go-”

“No. Please, stay,” he holds his hand up to stop you. “Just wait for me here.” He turns towards the door but before he steps out, he looks over his shoulder, “Trust me?”

“I do,” you respond immediately, and it’s true, you do trust him for some reason.

He opens the door and closes it after him but your curious self walks towards it and you press your ear against the door.

Their voices sound muffled but you can tell that the one who shouted is pissed. Is it an angry customer? Maybe you should call the police in case things got physical.

Before you make any hasty decisions, you decide to make sure Tom actually has everything handled. You turn the doorknob slowly and open the door and their voices finally are clear enough to understand.

“- respect you enough to know that sometimes you can’t stop shit from happening but this came from one of your guys, Tom. This is business we’re talking about.”

Tom’s back is facing you and you can barely make out the face of the booming voice yelling at Tom. “I know what the fuck we’re talking about, Dave. I’ll get Luke to sort it out and I’ll have your money ready by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Mean Man shoves a pudgy finger in Tom’s chest before he his eyes find you. His round face relaxes but it turns quickly into a sneaky stare. “Having yourself a little snack before the drop, I see.”

Tom follows his eyesight and his eyes almost bulge out of his sockets when he sees you staring. He turns away and points at the door, “Fuck off, Dave. We’re done here.”

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” Dave sneers at Tom and then speaks at you. “Ask Tom for my number if he doesn’t, uh,” he chuckles, “satisfy you.”

“Fuck you,” you reply.

Dave didn’t expect that at all and he’s rendered speechless. Tom laughs and shakes his head, “I think the lady’s said enough. Now get the fuck out of my shop.”

“Tomorrow, british boy.” And with that, Dave leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Tom goes to the door and locks it. He places his palms against it, his head hanging down between his shoulders. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” you tell him and step forward slowly.

He lifts his head but stays in the same position. He finds you standing behind the counter but says nothing. “You have some balls to be able to talk to Dave that way.”

“I think there was something in that ink you tattooed on me,” you say, showing him your wrist.

This earns you a soft laugh from him. He finally drops his arms and sighs. He walks in your direction and stands across from you, on the other side of the counter. You both say nothing for a while, just gazing at each other’s faces.

You’re not sure if you have feelings for someone you barely know- well, someone you thought you barely knew. Now you’re not even sure who he is. This dark, secret side of him somehow makes you want to know more about him and you don’t know why.

“You don’t want to get involved with me, y/n,” he whispers to you and there’s a sort of sadness in his stare.

It’s also the first time he’s said your name and you wish you could’ve recorded it just to hear it over and over again. A lullaby.

“Why not?” You ask.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Somehow, I do,” you reply genuinely.

“Then trust me when I say that I’m no good for you,” he states.

You bite your lip as you feel the hole in your chest start to open up again. Why is this guy making you feel this way?

“Okay,” you force yourself to say. Maybe this is the right thing to do. Right?

“What?” He seems surprised.

“Fine, I won’t get involved with you,” you say, sounding pissed off. You make sure you have everything you need, avoiding his eyes and make your way around the counter. You feel slightly disappointed and you hate that you do because after everything that’s happened, you really didn’t want to get involved with a guy any time soon.

But Tom…

“You’re unbelievable,” he says and you turn to talk back but are completely taken by surprise when Tom’s hands are on either side of your face and his lips crashes on yours. The impact of his body on yours sends you tumbling back until your back hits the wall. His mouth is unforgiving; completely taking control in the way his lips move around yours.

Your hands fist around his shirt, pulling him closer. He pushes himself on you and you can’t help the small moan that escapes from the back of your throat and loses itself into his mouth.

The kiss is too passionate, making your head swoon, but you don’t mind; it’s a high you can never get enough of. After a few minutes, he lets go of your lips but leans his forehead against yours. You’re both completely breathless and you lick your lips, trying to get any taste of him that you can.

You open your eyes but his remain closed. You tilt your head slightly so that the tip of your nose rubs his and he grins. He finally opens his eyes and looks so deeply into yours, your knees turn weak. He leans forward and pecks your lips softly, over and over again, making you giggle softly.

“How much do I owe you?” You ask in between the kisses.


“The tattoo,” you reply.

“This is enough,” he breathes out.

You both smile into your next kiss and you continue to kiss until you can no longer think straight.

Even though you could stay there forever if you wanted to, you place your hand on his chest to push him back. “As fun as this is, I gotta go. My friend might be worried.”

“Understandable. When will I see you again?” He isn’t as close as he was a few seconds ago but he remains close enough so that his hand is against the wall above your head.

“Uh, I need to come back here every now and then so you can check that it’s healing properly, right?” You ask, lifting your bandaged wrist.

He chuckles. “Yeah, that’s required. Here,” he pushes off the wall and goes to the counter and comes back to you. He hands you a small card, “Here’s my number in case if you have any questions or an… emergency.”

He has on a sly smirk that makes you believe the word ‘emergency’ has a different inuendo to it.

“Will do,” you reply and turn towards the exit.

“Did it help?” You hear him ask behind you.

You turn your head and nod, “Yep, most definitely.”

She Tastes like Candlelight 



It starts with, of all things, a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt.

Logically, he knows it doesn’t make sense. She comes to work in form-fitted jackets that go tight about her waist. She’s been foregoing the baggy slacks in favor of skirts that stop just below the knees, with nylons clinging to the defined musculature of her calves; he’s pretty sure he can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen her wear shoes other than heels, excluding the clinical, white shoes she wears with her scrubs during autopsies.

He’s seen the looks she gets. Sometimes, it’s during an interview, when a witness’s gaze will linger just a little too long on her bustline, and her hand will go up and fiddle with her necklace, her arm blocking her chest in subtle defiance. Other times, it’s men on the streets of the city, shouting out obscenities to her, having the audacity to call her “baby,” and “sweetheart,” and he fights the urge to yell right back, brandishing his badge and his gun, wanting to scare the misogyny right out of the bones of anyone who thinks they’re entitled to her body, but he knows that she would find it condescending. “Thank you, but I can handle myself, Mulder,” she’d say, and it’s not that he thinks she can’t—he just doesn’t want her to have to.

And still other times, the looks come not from strangers on the sidewalk, or from people he can reduce to photos in a casefile, but from their peers. Educated, talented men who transform themselves into slobbery, teenage boys when sitting adjacent to her in meetings, eyeing her with an inappropriate hunger while she jots down notes in the margins of her agenda sheet. More than once, Mulder has found himself in the elevator with a man who will look down at Scully, and then catch Mulder’s eye over the top of her head, just so that he can wink, including him in some inside joke he has no interest being a part of.

He supposes that he empirically knows that Scully is attractive—it’s more or less objective fact—but he’s never allowed himself to notice. He’s trained himself to observe her through a filter. He considers her appearance through what he aptly names the Sexual Harassment Video Gaze. He quickly shuts down any thought that could be used as an example in a training tape on inappropriate office behavior.

Keep reading

Mike’s Opinion of The Loser’s HCs

- Mike sees Richie as, not only the comic relief of the group, but also the most emotional person in the group
- Richie, for reasons unknown to Mike, decided to confide in him about nightmares and fears that Richie still couldn’t get rid of, and they became a shoulder to lean on for each other
- Richie, surprisingly enough to Mike, knows quite a lot about assumptions, and standards; be it ones he believes in or ones other people believe
- Richie and Mike became pretty fast friends, especially because he never has a problem with laughing at Richie’s bad (really terribly awful) jokes and is a really great listener (he never minds when Richie rambles)
- Usually when it’s just him and Richie, Mike, oddly enough, feels a lot less inclined to be perfect
- with Richie, Mike can totally let loose; there isn’t anything he has to be
- Richie is there for Mike whenever he feels like he’s a car wreck dressed up as a new truck
- He doesn’t have to prove his grandfather wrong around Richie, he doesn’t have to get perfect grades around Richie, he doesn’t have to put any stereotypes to rest around Richie; he can be as much Mike as he wants
- Even if he’s acting like a completely different person, it’s okay because Richie knows that sometimes Mike just needs to be somebody else for a while

- Mike really fucking respects Richie for it

- the fact that Mike can mention how stressed he is over college and Richie can instantly understand exactly what bad joke about old people and taxes he needs to make in order to cheer Mike up, astonishes him

- And Mike does everything he can to return the favor when Richie sits down and makes Mike talk about his worries for the future

- Richie is the first person to have ever made him laugh so hard he cried, and Mike would fight the clown plus Henry Bowers all over again as long as he got to meet the Loser’s

- Also! Mike, while not the first person Richie told, was definitely the first person to figure out Richie had the hots for Eddie (and boy did he have it BAD)


- Eddie was probably the last person Mike really connected to, which is odd because both he and Eddie are close to Richie (although Eddie more so, for obvious reasons)

- Mike never disliked Eddie; in fact, he always thought Eddie was funny, albeit dorky at times (read: all the time)

- But Mike didn’t really believe they had anything in common

- that was until Eddie and he accidently ended up drunk at a party together (because the other Loser’s were busy playing five person pool- terribly, if Mike may add) and Eddie started to tell him “war stories” of Eddie’s mom

- Mike couldn’t help but laugh and add in his own about his grandfather (“You shot a sheep?!” “You shot yourself with a needle?!” “She said I was having a deathly allergic reaction!”)

- After that party Mike and Eddie started to bond more, and anytime Mike needs some medical advice (which was still very good, even though Eddie can be terribly paranoid sometimes) or just venting time he would go to Eddie

- Mike sees Eddie as the moral compass of the group, he’s usually the first to say no (whether logically or not) and he’s always willing question the implications of everything

- Mike thinks it’s pretty great actually because he’s not entirely sure they’d still be alive if not for Eddie’s constant moral guidance in the exact opposite direction of the things they usually do; it adds some perspective

- Mike also really respects Eddie

- He knows exactly how hard it is to stand up to someone you trust and care for when you don’t believe the same things

- The fact that Eddie, someone who was so far under his mother’s thumb, was able to stand up to her and do what he felt was right, was amazing to Mike

- Eddie’s one of the main reasons Mike told his grandfather that he was going to college, even if he wanted to come back to Derry after doing so

- Also! Sometimes Mike worries about Eddie. The kid wears his heart on his sleeves! And Mike’s a really caring guy, so when Eddie’s freaking out he’s one of the first people to comfort him

- This eventually leads to him being the first person Eddie came out to about being gay, and Mike couldn’t be more proud because even though Eddie cried about getting Aids afterwards he still said he was gay with complete and utter certainty


- Mike sees Bill as the group’s leader (much like everyone else does), but he also thinks Bill is made of solid teflon sometimes

- it’s not really a hero worship thing, because he honestly worships all of his friends, but he’s seen Bill stare death and salvation in the face before choosing death to protect his friends

- He thinks Bill is super human

- He respects the hell out of Bill’s ability to take on the world with a straight face, and maybe it’s because he rarely sees Bill crack, but he really believes Bill is the strongest of the group

- Although, just because he thinks Bill is unbreakable, doesn’t mean he thinks Bill is invulnerable

- It doesn’t happen often, but he’s seen Bill get hurt, he’s seen the pain

- And it just makes him respect Bill more

- especially when Bill doesn’t take his obvious leadership statis to mean he’s better than everyone else

- Mike knows what it’s like to loose someone closer to you than anyone else, Mike knows what it’s like to blame himself for their death, Mike knows what it’s like to morn like no other

- And Bill is the person Mike will always truly, deeply empathize with

- Bill and he just have an easy trust; born from tragedy, but stronger than any other

- It’s an unspoken truth that he and Bill are the protectors of the group; if anyone needs help, they are the first two to be called

- Mike and Bill often have long conversations about his parents and Bill’s little brother, and usually they’re happy ones- reminiscing more than anything

- Mike knows what it’s like to have everyone act like death doesn’t happen in Derry, and he always makes sure that he’s there for Bill when he does need someone to talk to

- Mike didn’t suspect it at first, but he’s pretty sure Bill likes guys as much as he likes girls (and he’s pretty sure he likes one guy in particular)

- Bill’s never told Mike that he’s bisexual, but he did once say that he wondered what Gorgie would think about all of it, since Eddie and Richie had just come out, and that conversation had led into a deeper one about what their loved ones would think of them now, how the world was changing

- Mike’s conversations with Bill were always very polarized, either they were talking about the most trivial things on earth or they were talking about the meaning of life itself

- Bill is also the only person Mike’s ever talked to, in depth, about how the clown affected him (not that he didn’t want to talk to everyone else, it’s simply never come up too much)


- If Mike had to say who Stan was in their group of misfits, he’d definitely say their common sense

- Stan isn’t the nay sayer like Eddie, in Mike’s opinion, he’s more of a devils advocate; he rarely outright says no to their crazy ideas anymore (he leaves Eddie to do that- unless they’re from Richie, then all bets are off) because he often ends up being the moderator to whichever warring halves are conflicting (usually Eddie and Richie)

- Mike feels that Stan is probably the best guy to go to for advice because of how logical and intelligent Stan is

- Mike actually gets along really well with Stan because Stan understands expectations; he gets what it’s like to have a parent want you to be something you’re not

- Mike always feels empowered when he’s around Stan; he wants to be the best at everything because that’s exactly how Stan feels

- That’s why Stan is the first person Mike goes to for school help or just to study in general

- Mike and Stan have a lot in common in general

- they both understand expectations, prejudices, and pressures.

- Mike rarely ends up spending time alone with Stan that doesn’t consist of staying quiet (they do that quite a lot during study sessions and bird watching), but when he does its usually made up of them playing baseball or hanging out at the animal shelter

- It’s no secret that Stan loves birds and bird watching, so Mike can often be found keeping Stan company- Mike being the most quiet of the group and a lover of all animals

- Mike and Stan have a, quite literally, unspoken kind of bond; Mike knows that he can always go to Stan for peace and quiet and often times comfort is given in the simple tilt of a smile, the bumping of shoulders, and eyes that say everything

- Mike understands Stan better than most people do, and he believes Stan understands him pretty well too

- That’s probably why Mike knew Stan was gay even before Stan did

- So when he caught Stan staring longingly at Bill, he didn’t question it; he just smiled at Stan’s startled eyes and told him it was okay

- Stan later came to him for advice about his feelings and religion, and Mike was honestly honored that Stan valued his opinion that much

They’re family.

- Eventually when Stan came out to the entire group, Mike stood right beside him like a proud father

- Also! Mike will totally read Bill the riot act when they finally start dating


- Ben is the one who really got Mike interested in history, which Mike is eternally greatful for

- Ben’s also the one who always helps him with his English homework, which Mike is similarly eternally greatful for (he tried going to Big Bill once, but Bill couldn’t “articulate the vision”)

- Mike thinks Ben is the one of the nicest guys on earth, no matter what you say or do, Ben will always be kind to you (unless your Henry Bowers or an evil fucking clown)

- While Mike would trust Ben with his life, he can’t exactly say that Ben’s the brightest guy ever

- Ben’s great academically and definitely helps Mike, but he’s pretty oblivious sometimes

- Mike just can’t fathom how Ben could be surprised when Richie and Eddie told the group they were dating (Stan was so unsurprised, he snorted and said “no shit”)

- Ben almost fell the fuck over- he was so surprised, and Mike swears on his parents graves Ben is blind to social cues

- Mike is pretty protective over all of the Loser’s but Ben and Eddie get the brute of it, mostly because they’re younger, but Mike just doesn’t think they could hold themselves too well in a fight when there’s nothing at stake but themselves

- Mike actually admires Ben for it

- Ben is completely willing to put everyone before himself and Mike’s proud to be his friend

- Mike’s also surprised that Ben’s never afraid to be himself anymore, after the whole Clown ordeal Ben stopped trying to hide who he was and what he liked

- Mike may not like the pop music Ben does, but he appreciates Ben’s honesty more than anything

- If Mike had to say one thing that truly defined Ben he’d probably say Loyalty because Ben has, and always will, stick by his friends

- Mike can honestly say that Ben has been a better friend than he has at times, simply because Ben refuses to give up on people- even when it’s the most frustrating person in the world (aka Richie Tozier)

- Mike sees Ben as the kind of guy who would split the last sandwich on earth with you

- Ben and he became true friends in the weirdest way possible

- Ben had accidently drank vodka lemonade when he turned fourteen and decided that for his birthday he should go to Mike’s farm to pick him up. Once the entire loser’s group arrived at Mike’s farm, Ben decided in his infinite drunk wisdom (egged on by Richie) that he should ride a sheep. He ended up falling over the stable and getting lost in the sheep for twenty minutes before Mike could find him amongst all of the white fluff

- Ben drunkenly begged for a piggy back ride, and Mike was endeared enough to agree, so the entire walk back he listened to Ben compliment him for literally ever aspect of his existence. They’ve been best friends ever since


- Beverly was the first true friend he made in the Loser’s group

- Mike honestly thinks she’s the reason they became more than just people who fought a common enemy, more than just misfits put together, and more than just an arbitrary group

- Mike believes Beverly is the reason they all became friends because if it hadn’t been for her pushing them to get to know each other, he never would have took the time to befriend all of the people he now cares more about than anyone else

- Mike owes her everything for that

- Mike knows he can go to Beverly about anything be it the way his grandfather treats him or the way a certain colored shirt matches his eyes; Beverly is always willing to help

- Mike’s also proud to note that he’s the reason Beverly is dating Ben, a match he swears was made in heaven

- Mike thinks the world of Beverly, and he feels like she’s the sister he never had

- Mike would fight anybody who even looks at Bev wrong, but Bev is strong enough on her own

- When Bev and Mike are alone they can usually be found playing basketball or chess while they make bets about their friends

- Bev is the best at gambling, and Mike recommends no one ever make a bet against her

- Even though that’s their favorite thing to do together, Mike learned the hard way to bet easier stuff than a month of homework against Bev (it was a bet on whether Richie or Eddie would slip up about their secret relationship first; let’s just say Mike’s never done so much homework in his life)

- Bev and he became friends almost immediately after the Clown; they had all been on edge after everything that happened, so they walked to the lake and just sat there for hours. Mike and Bev were the last ones to leave, and eventually Bev began to talk

- Bev told Mike about her father, why she saw him and what she did to him; she talked about how scared she was, that she didn’t know what to do, but she honestly couldn’t help but feel relieved and

- Mike would absolutely do anything for Beverly

In the end, two thing can be said for how Mike feels about all of the Loser’s: They’re his family. And he loves them.

Spiders With Books Pt. 2 || Peter Parker Imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1377 words

Requests from anons: Your Peter Parker imagine was so good ! I was disappointed when it end because I wanted to know what happened next haha 😂. So I was wondering if you could do, if it’s not too much work for you, a part 2 ? Like their “date” where she give him her book recommendations or something like that ? ^^

Could you do a part two of spiders with books?

Part 2 of spiders with books? I loved it

could you do like a part two for spiders with books (I’m not completely sure how the title went) it’s amazing and I love it sm !!

Hey oml all i ask is that you do a part two for spiders with books that was insanely cute!!!

@yardenoved Part 2 please??

(A/N i swear its not spiders with boobs lmao @ireallylikebandsandstuff129 @spnlucifer65 )

No Homecoming Spoilers (stuff said/implied in the trailer)


Originally posted by tom-is-bae

Part One

Ever since her literal run in with Peter Parker, Y/N and him had gotten much closer. That day at lunch, the two sat with Ned and Michelle talking about random nothings. He gave her his phone number and vise versa. Everyone thought the two were dating and when the topic came up, they blushed, ignoring the accusations.

“Did you here what happened last night with Spider-Man?” Y/N asked sitting with her friends. Peter practically choked on his sandwich before speaking, “W-What happened?” All of his friends gave him a strange look before she continued the conversation.

“He saved Delmar. There was some huge explosion but instead of chasing the guys who did it, he went and helped him. And his cat,” She took a sip of her drink before continuing, “it’s crazy, Queens actually has someone who cares about us. Not some politician who makes half-assed decisions.” Y/N looked at everyone for their thoughts.

“What do you think he looks like under that mask?” Ned asked them before feeling a harsh kick at his shin and getting a glare from Peter. Michelle shrugged her shoulders, “Isn’t it personality that matters?”

“Touche,” Ned mumbled. Y/N sat there, dreamily staring off into space thinking about the knight in shinning spandex. “Anyone with a good heart is attractive. And Spider-Man has a big heart for doing what he does.” Peter’s eyes almost popped out of his head. He let out a short breath trying to ‘stay cool’.  He soon relaxed as the topic was quickly changed.

It was the end of the day and Peter was by Y/N’s locker, talking to her as she took some books out of her locker, placing them in her backpack. “So,” he started as he messed with the sleeves of his shirt, “D-Do you want to give me those book suggestions now? Like on a- on a date with me. Maybe?”

Y/N smiled at his shyness, “Yeah, that’d be great. Let me just text my parents to make sure it’s okay.” She pulled her phone and started typing on her screen. Peter was jumping on the balls of his feet, nervous with what could happen. The screen light on her phone changed, a smile forming on her lips. “Yes, I can go!” She said enthusiastically, clearing her throat to make it sound less desperate at the end.

Peter had a glowing smile on lips, as he pressed his hands together. Y/N slammed her cold metal door shut, walking out the school’s front door.

“So that’s all you ever do,” Y/N asked quirking her eyebrow, “ after school all you do is homework and that Stark Internship?” Peter looked at his lap, nodding his head. He couldn’t exactly tell her about his real night activities. She leaned back against the booth in the not so crowded diner they had decided to go to.

“How is it like working with the one and only Iron Man himself?” She asked dramatically, crossing her arms on the table in front of her. Peter looked deep in thought, “He’s just, such an inspiration to me. He was able to balance being a superhero AND being a billionaire. I can’t even imagine trying to balance a- a superhero life and a normal teenager life ya know?” His hands got sweaty as he nonchalantly admitted this to her. Y/N agreed as the waiter came out with their food.

“Have you met or seen Spider-Man before?” She asked, lowering her voice to avoid causing a scene. Peter gulped, desperately wanting to avoid the question. “Ye-yeah a couple times actually. He’s a pretty cool guy.”

“Do you know what he looks like?” She questioned before taking a bite from her food. Peter shook his head no, “He didn’t want a lot people to know who he was.”

It felt like they were there for hours talking about everything and anything. Peter payed the bill, much to her dismay even though she had no money on her.  They started walking to her house, slowly while taking in the sights of Queens and people rushing home from their jobs.

“Do you ever think about leaving this place, with all of the bad stuff that happens here?” Peter asked her after they crossed a busy road. Y/N scoffed, “Never. This place is my home. Besides, there are heroes here to protect it.”

Peter nodded his head agreeing with her, admiring her love for the city he grew up in. “Have you ever read A Tale of Two Cities?” He asked, watching their feet hit the pavement. Y/N let out a small laugh with a quirked brow, “I thought I was suppose to be giving you the suggestions.”

He gave her a small smile, “Well, the main character sacrificed himself to save someone he loved. And if I were a hero, I would do that for anyone in this city.” The talking stopped due to the seriousness , the only sound they heard were people talking and car engines revving.

Y/N kept her eyes on the ground as she told him, “This is why I like you Peter Parker. You would do that for a complete stranger. That’s why you’re such a good person.” Peter stood there baffled making her stop as well, just a block away from her house.

“You like me? YOU like ME? Of all people?” Peter asked, pointing a finger at her and then at himself. Y/N looked at him confusingly, “Well, you did ask me on a date and I said yes. I thought it was sort of implied.” He stood there wanting to hit himself in the face as realization covered his features muttering a small, ‘oh’.“Y-Yeah of course.” He mumbled continuing the walk to her house.

She let out a soft giggle, “You are too cute.” Both of their cheeks turning red, Peter because of the compliment and Y/N because she didn’t mean to say that out loud.

They quickly approached her home, standing in front of her door. “Peter, I had a lot of fun today.” She said as she was holding one arm with the other. “M-Me too.” He replied awkwardly.

Y/N had a look of remembrance on her face, “I need to go get something in my room. Come with me.” She turned around unlocking the house door. She went straight to her room, dropping her backpack onto the floor. Peter followed her steps, looking into her room. He could tell it was her room. She was rummaging through her things looking for something. She made a triumphant 'ha’ as she stood properly.

In her hand was a book. “Second Star to the Right,” Peter read out loud after she handed it to him. Y/N bit her lip, “It’s kind of a love story if that’s okay with you.” He smiled and flipped through the pages.

“I have a soft spot for love stories, just don’t tell Ned,” He said, rushing at the end. She smiled and walked him to the front door. He stood in front of her, Y/N now being inside while he was outside. “Umm, I don’t think I told you this earlier when you said you liked me,” he nervously said biting his lip, “but I like you too, in case you didn’t know.”

“I had a wild guess,” she said sarcastically with a small playful smirk. Peter mumbled to himself 'yeah of course’. He was doing a lot of that today.

He clasped his hands together looking her in the eye, “See you tomorrow at school?” She nodded her head with a smile on her face. He was about to start walking away when he leaned in, closer to Y/N, leaving a soft short peck on her cheek. He quickly pulled away, walking closer to the sidewalk on the streets of Queens. “B-Bye Y/N,” he blushed with wide eyes, unable to believe that his insecure self could muster up the courage to do that.

“Bye Pete.” She shouted towards him as he was already rushing away, making her let out a short laugh.


Genre: Fluff/ Soulmate AU!

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

Fandom: BTS

Summary: Everything couldn’t have been more chaotic with your stress about getting into your favorite art school so you convinced yourself you needed a break. You felt as though your art had been lacking something-like a muse. 

Originally posted by 4cyphers

The scent of coffee and baked goods easily filled up the entire cafe, while people bustled in and out on a saturday, and the sight of people either typing away on a keyboard or reading a book on the couch were all things you had grown to love. You had convinced yourself that it was a must to visit every coffee shop within walking distance and by doing this it would somehow calm you down from your otherwise panicked state. While everyone your age was freaking out about soulmates or having kids or what their lives were going to be like in the next 10 years, you just wanted to focus on now. You wanted to obtain your dream goal of getting the job you’ve wanted so badly. 

Sure, the school was going to be hard to get into but you’ve heard numerous compliments about your art. The only thing that worried you was that fewer and fewer people were actually noticing it anymore. You sat in your studio for at least 5 hours yesterday, trying to come up with something that actually meant anything to you anymore. Even you were noticing the repetitive themes or meanings behind your creations. Everything just seemed to be lacking. 

“Hey. this is not what I ordered. Are you kidding me? You work a part time job and you can’t even do that right?” The woman yelled, throwing the coffee over the counter. 

It wasn’t until then that you had looked up from your notebook, instantly catching the eye of the barista behind the counter. He nervously just smiled at the woman, telling her that he’d happily make a new one, and overall just trying to calm her down. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the sight of another grown adult throwing a fit like a child that seemed to be happening more and more these days. It almost made you cringe thinking about your own experiences from the retail shop you worked at a few months ago. Feeling burdened by how the boy behind the counter must felt you did something out of your comfort zone. Yeah, you actually stood up and approached the woman. 

“Everyone makes mistakes, right? Can’t you cut him some slack, it’s packed here and i’m sure he’s doing his best-” You chimed in.

The woman turns to you, still with an angered glare locked into her eyes. 

“Mind your business. I’m not paying for this!” She muttered.

As much as you wanted to yell back at the irrational lady, you instead pulled a 5 from your wallet, tossing it her way. At this point everyone could use a break from her being in here at all. 

“There you don’t have to.” 

She scoffed at your boldness, snatching the bill from the counter top, and shoving past to you. 

“I’m never coming back here!” She yelled over her shoulder. 

Taehyung’s eyes shifted towards you, instantly looking apologetic.

“I am so sorry you had to deal with that, are you okay?” He came around from the counter, letting the other workers continue the line. 

“To be honest, i’m shaking but I didn’t want her to keep being rude to you guys.” You laughed, showing him your shaking hands from the confrontation.

The taller boy grabbed your hands as if it was an instinct, giving you a warm smile. It was the first up close look of him that you had gotten, practically melting in your spot at how delicate and model like his features were. His large hands completely covered yours in the most protective way, and you already felt yourself blushing. 

“Thank you for that. Oh, she took your money didn’t she? Here I’ll pay you back-What’s wrong? Your face is so red..” Taehyung stated too bluntly. 

Knowing that he actually noticed made you even more shy, trying to look away from him at the floor but something small caught your eye. You heart felt as though it had stopped completely, noticing the tiny, red ribbon that was now apparent on your ring finger. The small tattoo was something you didn’t expect to ever see since it only appears on you once you’ve touched your soulmate. You didn’t confirm that he was also seeing it but out of fear you pulled your hands away. 

“N-no! Um..Don’t worry about paying me back, really. It’s okay.”

When you finally looked back up at him, it was pretty obvious he had noticed what had just happened, staring down at his hand. At first he didn’t say anything, walking back to his boss. You didn’t know what he was doing as you stood there waiting but after a few seconds he came back without his apron. 

“Let’s go.” He said, walking past you to the door. 

You ran over, grabbing your sketch book and bag before trailing behind him.

“Wait, where are we going?” 

“Our first date. I wanna know everything about you.” Taehyung smiled. 

Suddenly you felt how dry your throat had become, gulping at his words. You clutched onto your sketchbook, looking at the stranger in front of you. It was hard to guess anything about him by just standing here, plus you had time considering your portfolio wasn’t due until the end of the month, and by some speck of impulsive whim you agreed to going with him. 

“What’s your name?” He asked as he walked alongside of you, guiding the both of you.

“It’s Y/N. I read yours in the cafe on your name tag, Taehyung, right? How did you just leave work like that? Are you sure it’s okay when it’s busy?”

He couldn’t hide his childish smile, happy that you paid attention to him. 

“Yeah, it’s not everyday you meet your soulmate. Some people never get the chance, you know? You don’t always live near each other or speak the same language. It would be lame just to give you my number and talk to you later. I seriously want to know about you so much. I can tell you’re a good person when you stood up for me in there. Also you can call me Tae if you want.”

Your cheeks started to feel warm again at his compliments. 

“Yeah, I don’t know why I did. That was really scary.” You chuckled. 

“Maybe it was fate?” Taehyung said in a more serious tone. 


Nodding his head, he decided to explain.

“Well you did something you wouldn’t normally do but since you did we were able to meet. oh, we’re here-!”

In front of you was one of the parks you frequented. It usually served as a good place for scenery inspiration but for some reason it looked even better than usual. The fall leaves had just turned their colors and the cold breeze that passed by the trees felt nice instead of freezing. Taehyung had walked over to you on one of the benches, sitting down. His large hand gently reached out to hold yours, encouraging you to sit down with him. 

“So you’re an artist?” He asked, looking at the sketchbook you were holding onto so dearly. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’ve been practicing a lot lately. See, I have to come up with this portfolio and I’ve been having trouble coming up with new art. The theme was supposed to be things I care about the most. It sounds easy but it’s become ridiculously hard to convey the emotions in them lately. I was thinking that I need to find a new muse.”  There was smile brought to your lips as he asked about your work.

Tae sat there with a blank facial expression, tilting his head as he stared at you so deeply. He seemed concentrated as he scanned your whole self.

“Did I say too much?”

He shook his head, pouting in refusal. 

“No, I just-…Ah, I’m so lucky. I can’t believe you’re my soulmate.” His tone was more innocent and genuine. 

“…..You aren’t disappointed?”

“Why would I be? You’re into art just like me. My favorite artist is Vincent Van Gogh. I even have the starry night painting in my room so every night I can look at it. It’s calming. Besides I thought you were beautiful when I first saw you and seeing you closer only makes me think it more.

His words easily had you melting into your seat, blushing like crazy. Maybe it was his voice that got you so embarrassed, it sounded like art in itself when he spoke. This whole thing just felt like a dream, making you look down at the crimson ribbon on your finger. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m-”

“Does that make me a liar then?” Taehyung pouted. 

“Well, no-”

“Then that means you’re beautiful. No more take backs.” He hummed, almost too happily. 

His childish antics were endearing to say the least, causing you to burst out in laughter. He looked at you, shocked. Picking his hand up, you placed yours on his, staring at the ribbon more intently before looking past it at him. With a smile, you took in the scenery with Taehyung sitting in front of it.

“You know what, Tae?”


“I think I found my new muse.”

Best Dad Ever (Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader Imagine)

Originally posted by daengerously-intaense

A/N: Pretty long I think, sorry! And don’t forget to go to my profile to see my fandom list and rules to request! Also very open for criticism to make my next one better! 😉👍 and let me know if there is any mistakes so I can fix them! Enjoy! 😊

Y/N ~ Your name

Best Dad Ever

~ Don’t really know what era to put this in, I’ll leave it to you! ~

Your P.O.V.

“Do you have your angel blade?”

“Yes dad! I always do.” I chuckled, gathering my stuff in my purse.

“I just wanna make sure you’re protected if something goes wrong.” My overprotective father, Dean said, leaning against the doorframe. “And has anything ever gone wrong?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at my father as I put my purse on.

“It could happen today.” Dean countered. “You better knock on wood old man.” I joked as I walked past my dad to the map room.

“Hey! I am not old because that means you’re old.”

“Does it? Does it really?”

“Well I’m not as old as Cas.” Dean said and Cas looked up from the lore book he was reading in the map room across from Uncle Sam.

“Hey.” Cas said and Sam chuckled. I smiled and wrapped my arms around Cas’ neck from behind. “True but we still love you Uncle Cas.” I said and kissed his cheek and he smiled and patted my arms. “Just remember to call or text every hour. Every hour or I will find you and ground you till you’re my age.” Dean said.

“You can’t ground me till I’m fifty.”

Sam howled with laughter.

Keep reading

✰ * º ❛ more popular text posts starters. ❜

‘  plot twist: you let someone in and they don’t fuck you over  ’
‘  you would not believe bill nye… if ten million Science Guys  ’
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‘  why was shrek’s soundtrack so incredible like who sat down and decided that a movie about an ogre would have a beautiful rufus wainwright ballad followed by a smash mouth/eddie murphy cover of i’m a believer and how can i thank them  ’
‘  i justify my impulses by the fact i’m going to be dead one day and none of it truly matters in the grant scheme of things it’s that “treat yo self” nihilism  ’
‘  all i do is listen to music really loudly while i walk in circles and daydream :/  ’
‘  but you are an entire universe and i am a bigger cooler universe where everyone skateboards  ’
‘  my insecurities have destroyed so many opportunities   ’
‘  maybe you and i exist together on a different wavelength than the rest of the world. perhaps, we are on a separate frequency.  ’
‘  will u still love me when im no longer young and ok looking  ’
‘  ʸᵉᵃʰᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘʰʰʰʰʰʰ some fuckin physical affection  ’
‘  stop thinking about everything so much, you’re breaking your own heart.  ’
‘  concept: me traveling the world alone, figuring myself out, taking tons of cute aesthetic pictures, befriending kind strangers, drinking a cup of tea on a cute cafeteria, and trying out things for the first time.  ’
‘  holy shit thank god vine is gone like can you imagine all the vines about fidget spinners  ’
‘  me: reads the bad reviews of a book i didn’t like to seek validation  ’
‘  if you think you’ve hit rock bottom, just remember that my bank once froze my accounts because I bought a healthy ready meal at my local supermarket and they classed it an “uncharacteristic purchase”  ’
‘  i’m a dumbass and that’s just how it is  ’
‘  y'all actually seek validation from people that don’t give a fuck about ur feelings??? LMAO bitch me too why are we like this  ’
‘  special thanks to all the 10 year olds out there for making all those music lyric videos on youtube  ’
‘  i am so gentle and kind hearted… and stupid  ’
‘  there she goes again being over dramatic and by she i mean me  ’
‘  just letting everyone who’s ever told me a secret know that its safe with me (and my mom)  ’
‘  me n my eyebrows…………we been thru a lot  ’
‘  i wanna jump off a building and not die just relieve stress by slamming onto the sidewalk and then get up and go get a slurpee or something  ’
‘  all I want is vintage lingerie and good skin  ’
‘  nsfw: nobody’s safe from wonderwall  ’
‘  do you ever wish you could unmeet someone…. like,, we had fun times,, but it’s time for me to wipe my memory Sorry Bud  ’
‘  date a boy who reads. or better yet date a 37 year old recent divorcee with a highly diversified stock portfolio who’s looking to feel young again and can treat you to what you deserve  ’
‘  if you knew me in 7th grade i’m sorry  ’
‘  *cha cha’s real smooth away from academic responsibilities*  ’
‘  anyone else feel like they’re inherently worth less than everyone else  ’
‘  be open with your love and loud with your laughter. life is so much brighter when lived genuinely.  ’
‘  i really wish i could get a refund for all the love i’ve wasted on people like! repay my emotional labour your bill is in the mail  ’
‘  i’m such a tease. i’ll tell you how bad I want to fuck you and then probably fall asleep.  ’
‘  i’m crying my best  ’
‘  i want to be known as someone who’s full of love and radiates light  ’
‘  i’m in philosophy and were talking about how you can doubt everything’s existence except for your own consciousness and the guy that sits in front of me just turns around tears streaming down his face and goes “i am on so many drugs”  ’
‘  how fucked up would it be if an astronaut was coming back to earth and everybody hid for a bit  ’
‘  some kid just skateboarded down my street crying  ’
‘  do you ever get in an “i don’t know” phase in your life. where you literally don’t have a solid answer to anything. you. just. don’t. know.  ’
‘  which of the three pillars of modern music is your favourite, burnin’ up by the jonas brothers, beautiful soul by jesse mccartney or lucky by britney spears  ’
‘  i guess at this point i should just consider dating myself  ’
‘  there is no doubt in my mind i’m really that bitch  ’
‘  after you hit 21, you start forgetting your age cause ain’t nothing else to look forward to, besides sweet death.  ’
‘  why am i not currently in the italian countryside with a fruit plate wearing a light linen dress? unacceptable  ’
‘  hands are weird because one of them can do absolutely everything without a problem and the other one can’t even hold a spoon  ’
‘  remember to drink a fucking shit ton of water every miserable day of ur life  ’
‘  is he………you know…….*makes football throwing motion*….straight?  ’
‘  mATH, deATH – wake up america  ’
‘  does anyone else have a resting bitch face™, but kinda enjoys looking intimidating  ’
‘  time flies when u take a 2hr depression nap in the middle of the day  ’
‘  roses are red, i’m going to bed  ’
‘  u know when ur hairs greasy and it makes u feel so so so bad about urself. and ur entire life. everything is awful bc my hair is greasy  ’
‘  i’m just so glad the word “ugh” was invented  ’
‘  just another day of loving with all my heart and believing in the universe  ’
‘  you know when dogs sit outside with their face turned towards the sun and their eyes closed and they look so relaxed and when you pet them they’re warm? that’s how I want to feel always  ’
‘  come into bed and listen to the rain with me  ’
‘  people are so petty and then here i am, me, an angel,   ’
‘  can someone please be proud of me like fuck i’m trying  ’
‘  concept: a really nice Italian restaurant but it’s spelled “spagooter” on the menu and the waiters won’t take your order unless you pronounce it like that  ’
‘  just found out neanderthal passed on the dna for depression and now we know why they stayed in caves and painted horses all fuckin day   ’
‘  i want kids but i’m scared they’ll blame me if they’re ugly  ’
‘  does anyone have any tips for not thinking about it  ’
‘  “what’s a queen without her king?” well, historically, better  ’
‘  i want something that doesn’t taste like alcohol but has a lot of alcohol in it  ’
‘  my kink is getting some fuckin sleep  ’
‘  i’m alive out of spite  ’
‘  not to vent but: fuck  ’
‘  i think i accidentally break my own heart a lot  ’
‘  can’t wait to be balls deep in love  ’
‘  why are there so many days?? i feel like we just had a whole day yesterday… they don’t stop  ’
‘  i walked in on my 4 year old nephew sitting alone on his bed eating grapes in the dark and i didn’t even get a chance to say anything before he said “i don’t have answers”  ’
‘  *adjusts my tinfoil hat* y’all are crazy  ’
‘  do raccoons have people hands or do we have raccoon hands?  ’
‘  mark your territory by crying on things  ’
‘  any size titty is lit  ’
‘  love lemon trees! i too am bitter but growing  ’
‘  my only constant is the black hair tie around my wrist. no mans gonna be there for me like this hair tie has. no ones presence is gonna be as reassuring  ’
‘  me???? tired???? sleepy??? yes constantly  ’
‘  the box says “four servings” but my heart says one  ’
‘  the lengths i would go to to both get attention and avoid it….astounding  ’
‘  i hope everybody is doing their best even tho we’re all doomed  ’
‘  young adult things: washing your colors with your whites because you don’t care you JUST don’t fucking care  ’
‘  I just want to help out all the people with no money but i am people with no money  ’
‘  bricks are just domesticated rocks  ’
‘  being nice is so easy just do it  ’
‘  lets start wearing cloaks and swords again. its time  ’
‘  classes are like a high level dora the explorer episode. person up front asks a question, stares at you blankly for a few seconds, and then answers their own question.  ’
‘  the average orgasm is 7 seconds. keeping a feral hog in your basement lasts for 5-16 years depending on your ability to care for it. the decision should be clear  ’
‘  will i ever have my shit together  ’
‘  i live in a time where a major selling point for food is that it uses “real” ingredients.  ’
‘  “what the fuck” is an emotion now and its the only one i have  ’
‘  it’s not a real party until you sneak away to the bathroom to question your existence as you stare at yourself in the mirror haha  ’
‘  every hard day you make it through makes you one day closer to stranger things season 2  ’
‘  assert your dominance by calling your friends by their student i.d. number  ’
‘  i feel like each year has progressively gotten worse since the year of luigi ended  ’
‘  um that’s u’re* not ur  ’
‘  i wanna be a villain so I can just saunter everywhere. the heroes are always sprinting, always running. you ever seen darth vader run? hell no. and I ain’t about to either.  ’
‘  i have nothing to say but will i shut up? No  ’
‘  i cannot believe another week is like beginning we just finished one  ’

Assassin!Harry (Part 3)

Harry is a trained, experienced assassin hired to kill Y/N but ends up, to his horror, falling in love with her. 

You can read part one here. 

You can read part two here. 


Four months. Harry had managed to keep Y/N in his life for four months. He was a different person; at least, he had Y/N thinking he was. His thoughts still drifted to the macabre, longing for the rush of another kill whenever he wasn’t with her. But she gave him a different, better kind of rush, and he loved it. Harry loved her. However, he didn’t like to admit this to himself. Harry didn’t love anything before Y/N, and part of him wished he still didn’t. The only things he used to crave were murder, violence, careful planning and stalking…but now he craved her. He liked–loved–having her around, he was emotionally attached to something for the first time in his life. But there was just one problem: How long could he keep his real life a secret from her?

He’d received two more payments for assassinations since meeting her. On top of Y/N’s, that left a total of three incomplete missions that Harry desperately wanted to fulfill but knew, deep down, that he never could. He could never pursue another kill again, for Y/N’s sake and for the sake of their relationship. It wouldn’t be long before one of his clients caught up with him, and he knew that. But unfortunately for Harry, he had less time than he thought.


Harry had just finished running his fingers through his messy curls to style them when he heard the lock on his door start to rattle. He’d given Y/N a key last week, and he smiled to himself as he heard her let herself into his apartment. He liked the feeling of having someone in his life to share his home with. Life was easy with Y/N; he didn’t have to try to put on an act to get her. She loved him for who he was.

Or, who she thought he was.

“Hi darling,” Harry said, moving over to Y/N as she closed the door behind her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in to kiss him. He smiled at her as their lids fluttered open, her gorgeous eyes meeting his twinkling green ones. “How was the daycare?”

“Same as always,” she said, fixing his collar so that it laid flat. “I’ve been helping Mia with her reading, the little four year old I was telling you about? She’s absolutely brilliant, her mom told me today that she read an entire Dr. Seuss book by herself. She’s only four years old and she read a whole book!” Harry’s eyes were intently fixated on Y/N. He smiled to himself as he observed the way the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the way her entire body seemed to light up when she talked. He had never felt so lucky in his entire life.

“How did life as a secret agent treat you today?” Y/N asked, teasing him, with extra emphasis on ‘secret agent.’

Harry smiled. He felt guilty that Y/N still believed he worked for the government, but he didn’t let the guilt show. He never did. “Can’t tell ya. Hence the secret part. But ’m glad you’re doing so well with Mia. I ordered pizza for dinner, hope that’s alright?”

“Perfect!” Y/N exclaimed, moving over to the sofa by the window. She plopped down, kicking off her shoes as Harry turned to follow her. Just as Harry went to sit down, there was a loud knock on the door.

“Must be the pizza,” Harry said, shuffling towards the apartment’s entrance. “I’ve got it.”

Y/N stayed put on the couch, fiddling with her fingernails, until a chillingly familiar voice sounded throughout the apartment. A voice that had haunted her for years, and had just started to lose its control over her mind. She froze, in shock, before turning to face the doorway, coming face to face with the worst, scariest human being she had ever met: her ex-boyfriend, Jack.

“I want my fucking money, bro,” he yelled, his cold eyes just as angry as she remembered. Y/N ducked next to the couch, immediately trying to hide herself from view. Her head was spinning, throbbing almost. What the fuck was Jack doing at Harry’s apartment?

Harry went into immediate assassin mode. Calm, cool, collected. Voice deep, words slow. Establish the upper hand before this man tried to pull something. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Don’t play stupid you asshole. The 50 grand I slid through your window four months ago? I want that shit back. I want it back and I’m going to take care of her myself, since you’re clearly incompetent.”

Harry let out a low, emotionless laugh, though he was a bit frightened. He was so careful to make sure that nobody who had hired him ever got to see his face, but now someone knew what he looked like. He was screwed. “These things take time. If you want your money back, I can get it for you right now, but then the mission goes unfinished. So, what do you–”

“I have a gun,” Jack threatened, shakily. “And I swear to God, I will blow your fucking brains out and hers too as soon as I find her.”

“And risk being caught?” Harry questioned, remaining completely calm, although below the surface he was frantic. Y/N was literally in his apartment. There was no way out of this one. He needed to get this guy away from him, away from Y/N, and then make a run for it.

“You know what? Fuck this. I’m going to the police.” Jack spun on his heel, but what Harry said next caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

“If you go to the police, what are you going to tell them? Huh? That you shelled out $50,000 to have someone murdered in cold blood in your name, and now the hit man you hired has taken too long to fulfill his duty? You’re going to tell them you got ripped off by an assassin?” Jack was silent. “You’re just as guilty.”

An assassin? Y/N’s head was spinning. She was desperately trying to make sense of the exchange going on between her ex-boyfriend and her current boyfriend, but she was making herself dizzy trying to put the pieces together. She felt her eyes well up with tears. If Jack really did have a gun, he would not hesitate to use it on her the second he found out she was there. He was crazy, a loose cannon. She needed to stay hidden.

Jack huffed, running a furious fist through his tangled blonde hair. “Fuck. You.”

“Trust me,” Harry began, levelheaded as ever. “This operation has been made a priority. Murdering someone isn’t an overnight task.”

“Yeah, except you’ve had four months. I’m over this. I’m going to get my guys, and I swear, even if it’s the last thing I do, I will fucking end you. And then I’ll end her myself. The only reason I hired you is because I didn’t want to have any blood on my hands but I don’t give a shit anymore. I may not know anything about you, even your name. But I do know that you are over.” And with that, Jack had taken off running down the hallway, and Harry had slammed the door behind him, his face as red as a fire truck. This was about to come crashing down on him. All of his careful, tedious work and planning…it was all about to be over. He was done for.

He raced down the hall, towards his bedroom. Y/N chased him, confused and angry and shocked and sad all at once. “Harry, what’s going on?” Nothing. He started rooting through his dresser drawers, tossing out fistfuls of clothing and leaving it strewn across the floor. “Do you know him? Do you know Jack?” Still, silence. “Harry, what the fuck is going on? Why does he want you to end me? What does he mean when he says he hired you?” She was yelling now, and the tears were flowing freely. “You’re scaring me. Answer me!”

Harry pulled out a large, bulging yellow envelope out of his dresser drawer, tossing it on the bed. “I have to go.”

“What?” She shook her head, more clueless than she had ever felt in her life.

“Y/N, you love me right?”

“Harry, what are you-”

“You’d love me whether I was sick or whether I was poor or whether I had a different job?”

“Of course, I-” Harry dumped the folder’s contents out on the bed, revealing stack after stack of crisp $100 bills. “Harry, where did you get all that money?”

Harry was frantic, panicking, rushing around like crazy. “We all have our secrets right? What I really do for a job, that’s my secret.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you saying all of this? I-”

“I don’t want to lie to you anymore, Y/N! I can’t. I’m not a-a-a secret agent.” He was at a complete loss for words, struggling to find what to say. “I don’t work for the government, I’m not licensed to have any of those guns you found in that closet all those months ago. And I don’t use those weapons for self-defense like I said. I use them to kill people.”

“Harry, please-” He was running around his bedroom like crazy, shoving things into a duffel bag without hardly looking to see what they were.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. In two days, you’re going to meet me at the International Airport.” He swiped a stack of money off of the bed, handing it to Y/N. “Pack a suitcase with clothes, shoes, anything else you might need. You’re going to take a taxi there, give the driver this money. I know it’s far, so you have to tell him to drive all through the night, and you’re not going to tell anyone, okay?”

She stared at the money in her hands, tears blurring her vision. “Harry, I can’t do this, I’m too afraid, I have no idea what’s going on, I-”

“Act like you’re brave, and you will be. I promise. That man…Jack…he’s going to be back soon. And with a lot of really dangerous people. You have to get out of here before he finds you. I love you, Y/N.”

“Harry, I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“Yes, you can. I know you can.” He grabbed his duffel bag, zipping it feverishly, then bounded towards the front door. “You have to.” He kissed her quickly, before swiping his car keys off the hook and racing out the door.

And just like that…he was gone.


Every part of her body told her to turn around. As she walked into the airport, her limbs were screaming at her to stop, to chase down the taxi driver that had just dropped her off, and to drive back to her dorm room, away from Harry and every problem that he had caused for her. But, despite all of that, she was worried sick about him. She would follow him to the ends of the earth to make sure he was okay. And that’s why she kept walking. Through the revolving doors, up the stairs, until she reached the security line right outside the gate Harry told her to wait in front of.

From just the exchange she had heard between Jack and Harry, Y/N had pieced a few things together, though they didn’t make much sense to her. Jack had given Harry a lot of money for something involving a ‘her’ that Y/N had assumed she was. Harry had a lot of guns, but he didn’t use them for a government job like he had told her. Jack had referred to Harry as an assassin, but Y/N didn’t know what that meant, entirely. If Harry was accepting money to murder people, like Jack had said, how many people had he killed? And where did she come in? Was it a coincidence that Jack and Harry knew each other? She felt her heart rate flare up and her head grow hot with anger. She felt like she didn’t know the man she loved, and she needed answers.

Just then, Harry came bounding into view, dressed in all black, duffel bag in tow. He leaned in to kiss her, then pulled her into a tight hug, breathing in her perfume, the smell of her hair, everything. Y/N didn’t hug back. She didn’t do anything.

“We don’t have much time.”

“You need to tell me what’s going on.”

Harry rooted through his backpack and pulled out two plane tickets, handing one of them to her. “I bought these an hour after I ran out of my apartment. Our flight leaves in 40 minutes. Grab your things, and-”

She was madder than she had ever been. “Harry, if you don’t stop for two seconds to tell me what the hell is going on, I am going to walk right out of this building and I swear to God I will never talk to you again.”

This was enough to make him stop. He ran his left hand through his hair, bringing it down to rub his face in exasperation. “Fine,” he sighed, speaking gently but hurriedly. “What do you want to know?”

“What are you?”


“What. Are. You. You don’t work for the government like you told me. I already have an idea in my head of how you make your living and if you tell me you’re anything different from what I think you are I’m going to need some serious convincing.”

He sighed. He looked at her face, so pained and…disappointed. He hated himself for doing this to her. “Okay, okay,” he whispered, looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody was within hearing range. “People call it different things, but I guess you might call me a hit man. People pay me to kill other people off.”

Y/N felt sick. She honestly thought she might throw up. Her heart surged with anger, and it took everything in her not to spit in his face. Her furious eyes searched his, praying that this was all a joke or a dream or anything other than the reality she had found herself swept away in. “I have no idea who you are. I cannot believe I wasted four months of my life on a figment of my imagination. You are not even close to the person you made me think you were.” She reached to pick up her suitcase, but Harry grabbed her arm, fast as lightning.

“I wanted to tell you,” he continued. Y/N tore her arm from Harry’s grip, but she didn’t try to run away again. She decided she was going to get her answers. “I was just scared you’d hate me. That you’d react…well, exactly like this.” He reached a hand up to the back of his neck, the smooth eloquence with which he usually spoke completely gone in Y/N’s presence.

Y/N was crying now. “Well how the fuck else was I supposed to react? What did you expect?” she shouted. “Bonnie and Clyde?”

“Keep your voice down!” Harry hissed. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

“Oh, well maybe I should keep screaming then,” Y/N said, knowing she was on the brink of a complete meltdown. “Sounds like me being killed would be doing you a huge favor!”

Harry froze. “Y/N, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, Harry. I’m not stupid. My psychotic ex-boyfriend comes barging into your apartment demanding the money he paid to you, a hit man, saying ‘I’m going to end her myself?’ He was talking about me. He hired you to kill me.” Harry was silent. “Just admit it, Harry. Don’t be a coward for once in your life and just say it.”

Harry’s face went slack. His entire body went slack. He felt like he was going to faint. “I…Okay. It’s true.” Y/N whimpered like a sick puppy, and this sound indicative of her heart breaking shook Harry to his core. “But! Y/N, please, let me explain.” She swatted tears away from her face, not saying anything. Harry took this as his cue to go on. He realized that he was running out of time, but he didn’t care. He loved her, and she deserved to know the truth. “The night we met, I had every intention of killing you. But it took about two minutes with you before I realized that I could never, ever bring myself to do it. I knew within two minutes of knowing you that I was going to love you. And I was right, Y/N, because I do love you.”

A quiet sob left Y/N’s lips. She was doing her best not to attract a crowd, but she had never felt so violated in her life. Their entire relationship had been built on a lie. She had fallen in love with a complete and utter stranger. “Don’t tell me you love me when you don’t love anything on this fucking planet.”

“Y/N, that isn’t true! The night we met, I sure as hell wasn’t planning on falling in love. Until I met you, I was a sociopath.”

“You still fucking are,” Y/N sneered, reaching down to pick up her suitcase once more. “God, I cannot believe I actually agreed to meet you here! And I even packed a bag and everything! What is wrong with me? I-”

“Y/N, stop. I promise you that I will give you every single answer you want but only after we’re out of the country. Please. Just pick up your suitcase, and take your ticket, and come with me. I need you.” And he meant it. Jack had for sure found out Harry’s name by now. There was no point to running from the authorities that were surely after him right at that moment if he wasn’t going to be running with Y/N by his side.

“I can’t leave with you! I have a life here, an honest, real, life. How dare you even ask me that!”

Harry was panicking. He needed to be in the security line. “Y/N, please.”

“No.” She wiped a tear from her face, still sick to her stomach. “But you need to go. Jack is psychotic and he has ways of getting what he wants. There are people after you right now, I’m sure of it.”



He looked at her, over at the security line, and then back to her. He heaved a heavy sigh, then leaned in to kiss her, more passionately than he ever had in his entire life. Y/N knew she shouldn’t, but she kissed him back. She was the first to pull away, putting her hands on either side of his face. She repeated again, “Go.”

And so he did. He swung his duffel bag over his shoulder and walked through the security line. Y/N watched him the whole time, tears spilling out of her eyes. She watched as he got to the security officer checking his boarding pass, but even though she couldn’t hear their exchange, something about the way the two were interacting gave her a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, two security officers rushed him from the back, each seizing an arm on either side of his body. Without thinking, Y/N bolted forward, running as fast as she could towards Harry.

“Harry!” she cried out, her eyesight completely obstructed with tears.

“No!” Harry shouted as a third security officer grabbed ahold of Y/N’s arms, pinning them behind her back.

“Do you know this man?” the officer demanded. “His name was put on the no-fly list yesterday.”

“I-” Y/N looked over at Harry, who was vehemently shaking his head to say no, no, no, please do not tell that man you know who I am. It was already bad  enough that Harry was going to be carried away for the rest of his life. He would never forgive himself if Y/N got caught up in it too. “No,” Y/N finally said, and the man loosened his grip on her arms. “Never met him.”

“Get out of here, miss,” the guard said. It seemed like everyone in the entire terminal was staring at Y/N and Harry. Y/N took one last look at Harry as he mouthed I love you to her, his face the most clear picture of distress and pain Y/N had ever seen. She turned around, dragged herself over to where her suitcase was, and picked it up in time to see four armed, uniformed police officers round the corner. It took every ounce of her being not to run over and plead with them to be gentle with him, but she knew she had to keep moving. She ducked her head and walked, as fast as she could, away from the terminal to the airport’s exit.

The image of Harry mouthing I love you played on a ceaseless repeat in Y/N’s head. As she walked out of the airport, tears streaming down her cheeks, she swore she could physically feel her heart crush. Because she knew–no, she was sure–that she still loved him. She probably always would.

A/N: Hi friends!! I think this is gonna conclude this mini-series. I absolutely loved writing it and all of your sweet messages asking me to continue of course made me so happy! I wanted to leave it up to your interpretation to decide what happens to Harry at the end. If you liked part 3 or any other part of the series or if you have any feedback whatsoever, feel free to drop a message in my ask letting me know!!<3


Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x reader (platonic)

Summary/Request:  Can you do a Damon Salvatore one where he’s trying to kill you and says that he could kill you and you’re like yeah but so can another human or a dog like you’re not special.. she can be really unbothered and sarcastic and then he lets her live because she’s really awkward and funny and so he keeps coming next to her every once in awhile for advice and stuff and they become friends xxx - Anonymous

Word Count: 3570

A kind of part two to this: x

Are you sure you can’t come to this last bar, Y/N?” One of your friends slurred out.

You and your friends had been bar hopping and so far you were mildly drunk. You handled your alcohol well, unlike your friends and only agreed to join them to see your friends get ugly drunk,  instead, they flirted with anything that had a dick and legs. Your standards meant that none of the guys offered you drinks so you were tipsy at best.

“I’m going to head home. I don’t like the bar that you’re headed to anyway”  You replied, disentangling yourself from another drunk off her face friend.

“Okay. We’ll miss you”  They all shouted dissolving into a fit of giggles before stumbling down the street.

You rolled your eyes and began your walk home. It was only 1 am but it was that odd time of night where everyone was out but everyone was in. The roads were empty due to most of the people being in clubs or in their homes. It was quite peaceful for you. The smell of rain lingered in the air and the cool breeze did everything to relieve you from the stuffy air in the club. 

You cut through the usual alleyway. It wasn’t like most cliche shortcuts, it was between two houses and continued like that for a few streets. The neighbourhood was a good one, mostly rich white families so you knew you were okay. You were back on the main road, right in the middle of mystic falls which was pretty much deserted. From your peripheral vision, you could see shadows moving but you knew that there wasn’t anything behind you. 

You looked down at your phone to reply to a text when you saw a man in front of you. You quickly stopped to avoid crashing into him.

“Well lookie here” The guy sung.

“Excuse me?” You replied, pissed and confused at the attractive stranger.

“I’m going to kill you, sweetheart”

You burst out laughing.

“I think someone spiked your drink, dude.”

“You should be cowering in fear. Why are you not cowering in fear?” He asked, his evil demeanour changing.

“Because when a random guy comes up and says ‘i’m going to kill you’ at 1 am on a Saturday night he’s drunk. So if you don’t mind, sir. I’ll be on my way”

“But I am going to kill you”

“Yeah of course you are. Now move please”

All of a sudden a metal railing appeared in the stranger’s hands. He bent it easily even managing to knot it in the middle.

“I could really kill you if I wanted to.”

“Yes, but so could another random stranger or even a dog. You’re probably jacked up on some ‘roids so please let me pass”

“I’ll let you live, you’re funny”

You narrowed your eyes and continued walking. 

“I’ll see ya around” The stranger called out.

You thought that would have been the last you saw of the stranger, only you were clearly mistaken. 

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