curls up into ball and cries

YOI Skaters As Things I Have Done
  • Viktor: Collapsed in the hallway because my friend wasn't paying enough attention to me, spent hundreds of dollars on a gift for same friend, and pissed off a bunch of my other friends by declaring said friend as my favorite
  • Yurio: Accidentally kicked one of my friends in the head, then laughing when she got pissed
  • Yuuri: Woke my mom up at 2am because of all the racket I was making in the kitchen while stress baking cookies
  • Christophe: Showing my friends photos of my boobs because "don't they look so good in this photo?" and getting the response "your boobs are fantastic"
  • Phichit: Keeping a folder of all the ugly selfies my best friend has ever sent me to give to her future boyfriend
  • Mila: Picked up friend and ran to PE because "your legs are too short to keep up with mine, either buy roller skates and hold onto my sleeve or let me carry you, we don't have all day"
  • Georgi: Sent my girlfriend at the time 500 seconds of snapchats in under 10 minutes before she woke up and then continued to send more after she woke up
  • Sara: Gave an hour long lecture to one of my best friends who I consider to be family on gender roles and why I generally dislike men who aren't fictional that some how turned into me listing reasons why girls are beautiful and I Love them
  • Michele: Have given the same two pieces of dating advice to one of my friends for years, "dump him" or "give me your phone, I'm going to fight him"
  • Emil: Hugged one of my best friends for over an hour, actually it was closer to two, I only let go when I fell asleep
  • JJ: Talked for a full hour about how hot I am to one of my friends and then after a few minutes of silence, whispered "oh god, I really hate myself" and then curled up into a ball and cried
  • Minami: Consistently terrifies friends with shrieking flying tackle hugs from behind, screams of terror usually ensue
  • Seung-gil: Robotically wrote the Bee Movie Script on the classroom board when we had a sub, "Do you have work you are supposed to be doing?" "Yes." "Is this it?" "No, do you have any more questions?" "I- uh, no, I guess not."
  • Guang Hong: Texted someone that if they messed with my best friend I would brutally murder them and then followed up with blushing emojis and flower emojis
  • Leo: Listened to the same song on repeat 12 hours a day, for over a week, until I could hear the song playing in my dreams
  • Bonus, Coaches + Teachers:
  • Yakov: Some how became the mom friend despite the fact that I can't even take care of myself, "I swear to god if you skip physics oNE MORE TIME", "Do your homework, I know where you sleep", "Oh for fuck's sake, come over to my house, I'm not going to listen to you bitch for weeks because you didn't want to disinfect your cuts"
  • Minako: Was running a high fever during my physics final to the point where I was fading in and out of consciousness, and aced it
  • Lilia: Developed a reputation for having terrifying kicks after I realized that the men in my karate class couldn't hold back their punches if they were too busy avoiding getting nailed in the balls
  • Celestino: Refused to stop smiling and laughing for a full day, actually got kicked out of class because I laughed so much
Guys this ST season 2 trailer has me SHOOK

1. When Mike screamed Elevens name and then it cuts to her I cried
2. Either Mike or Eleven (seriously who was that) was curled up in a ball crying and I am not okay with that
3. WHY WAS WILL IN THE LAB?!?
4. Okay Will’s drawing looked exactly like that thing in the sky
5. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING IN THE SKY
6. What are the boys cycling so furiously away from
7. Why are glass shards flying at Hopper um leave our father alone
8. what the FUCK is that thing in the fucking SKY
9. When the door was opening itself, the child staring at it looked an awful lot more like Will than it did Eleven does he have powers or does that thing in the sky
10. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT DAMN THING IN THE BEAUTIFUL HAWKINS SKY AND WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK IS IT GLOWING RED

11. WE CANT WAIT UNTIL HALLOWEEN ALSO I CANT STOP SCREAMING THE LINE “THE WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN” FROM HAMILTON
Mary

The day he won the lottery was the best day of his life. His state allowed people to collect anonymously, so nobody would know about his winnings except for him and the IRS. His coworkers would never know. He saved a lot of his money, but he did have one major purchase. 

He built a home. Under it, a two story basement complete with steel doors on the rooms. Thirty rooms underground in fact.

The place was out in the middle of nowhere, and he used almost fifty different construction crews to build the thing so no one company even had full specifications to the house.

Of course the house had three stories above ground, this was where he would hold dinner parties and his family would visit him at.

No sooner had the house been finished, the construction crews left the site and he had moved in did he put the rest of his plan into action.

His second purchase was a van, one which he removed all of the back seats and replaced with a mattress and several iron loops to hold restraints.

It took a few hours of driving for him to finally find a girl walking home alone after dark. He pulled over and asked if she wanted a ride.

She did not. She kept walking away, but he knew she was the one, so when she walked into an alleyway he followed her in his van. He rolled up behind her and shot her with a tranquilizer dart. She ran a few steps before she collapsed in a heap.

He stopped the van with it still running, got out of the van and picked her up and hauled her into the back.

Once she was securely cuffed down in the back he drove her home.

She had a school id with her. Mary was her name and she was in high school apparently. He wondered how many other teenage boys had the opportunity to defile her tiny body before he found her.

The drive took several more hours to get home since he’d picked her up from two states away. He had to pull over several times to re-drug her with an injection because she woke up and started screaming.

When he pulled into his garage he pulled her unconscious body out of the back of the van and carried her into the elevator in his house. He went down to the lowest level and took her into one of the newly constructed rooms and laid her onto the floor.

While she was still unconscious he undressed her and threw her clothes into the furnace. She wouldn’t need clothes as his new fuck toy.

When he had finished burning all of her possessions from the clothes on her back to her school backpack, he took his time going back to her. He wanted her awake for the next step.

After a meal and a quick chat with his friend on the phone, he figured she must be awake so he went back down to greet her.

Sure enough she was awake. Screaming and crying and trying to find a way out of the room. When he walked in he locked the door behind himself, as she cowered in the corner trying- and failing- to hide her private parts with her hands.

“Hello Mary.”

“How do you know my name? Where am I? What are you going to do with me?” She blurted out

“I read your ID before I destroyed it Mary. Where you are is unimportant. As for what I am going to do with you, I am not sure you want to know the answer to that, but I think you already know.”

“Are you going to rape me?” she sobbed, snot coming out of her nose.

It was disgusting. He grew hard at the sight of it.

“What do you think the answer to that is Mary?”

“Yes.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“N-no.”

“You don’t seem too sure of that.”

“I don’t want you to rape me. Please let me go.”

“What will you do for me if I promise to let you go?” he mused, toying with her tiny brain now.

“Anything. Anything just tell me.”

“How old are you Mary?”

“Twenty one.”

“Are you sure? Mary? Your ID was from high school. How old are you really?”

Her eyes darted around the room desperately.

“Mary how old are you?” his voice grew darker at the question.

“S-six-teen.” she stuttered.

“How many boys have you fucked?” he asked again.

“Nobody.”

“You are a virgin then?”

“Y-yes.” she whined and hung her head. “Please let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Oh I know you won’t tell anyone. What will you do if I promise to let you go? Be specific.”

“I’ll um, I won’t tell anyone about you.”

“Try again.”

“I’ll clean for you? Do your dishes?”

“I don’t think so Mary. You can do better than that.”

“I don’t know- I don’t know what you want from me!”

“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to educate you on how things are done in this house.” He said as he lunged at her.

She tried to get away, but the room was too small, and he was too strong. He pinned her to the ground in no time. Her tiny breasts pinned to the ground beneath her as her ass pressed against his groin.

“Are you on birth control Mary?” he asked in her ear as she struggled to get away from him.

She only grunted as she struggled.

“I asked you a question Mary!” he shouted.

She flinched.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked again as he wrapped his hands around her neck.

“N-no.” she stammered.

“Good.” he said as he unzipped his fly and pulled out his penis.

“Stop!” she cried as he positioned himself at her virgin hole.

He laughed as he thrust in breaking her hymen. She cried out in pain and began begging hysterically for him to stop.

He didn’t. He continued battering away, ramming her cervix with the head of his penis. Purposely trying to make it as painful as possible for his newly caught virgin.

She struggled more to break free, but he was stronger than she was.

“This is what you were made for bitch!” he cried as he pummeled her insides with his cock.

“No. Please stop.” She pleaded more.

“You don’t get to make demands of me whore.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call you what?” he taunted as he raped her previously unused hole. Pulling his penis almost all the way out, before ramming it painfully back into her cervix.

“Whore.” she murmured in defeat as he thrust into her.

“Yes that is what you are.” he said with laughter, balls tightening with her degradation.

“No I am not.” she complained, so he grabbed her hair and lifted her head before slamming it back down onto the concrete floor.

“You are a whore and you will admit so or I will break every last bone in your body.”

“No.” she grunted, so he slammed her head onto the floor three more times.

“Say it! Say you are a whore or I will kill you! Do you understand?” he shouted as he rapidly approached his release.

“I am a w-whore.” she sobbed.

“Say you are my whore.”

“I am your whore.” she wailed, desperately trying to curl up into a ball to avoid being hurt.

“Say it again!” he demanded as he finally released her hair, to grip her hips and thrust with abandon.

“I am your whore.” she cried.

“Whores like being fucked don’t they?” he taunted.

“Y-yes” she gagged on her own words now as he fucked her.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to fuck me.” she said, voice going hollow as she spoke.

“Tell me you want me to fuck your whore cunt.”

“I want you to fuck my whore cunt.”

“Tell me you want me to cum in your whore cunt.”

“I want you to cum in my whore cunt.”

“Say please.”

“Please.”

“Please what?” he asked. She was confused for a moment before she seemed to figure it out.

“Please cum in my whore cunt.”

“But that will knock you up. You aren’t on birth control.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” he taunted again as he thrust wildly now.

“Yes I want you to cum in my whore cunt and knock me up.”

And with that he did.

Astra inclinant, sed non obligant

A short sci-fi story written for @caffeinewitchcraft’s Caffeine Challenge #12. My brain took the prompts and veered off a bit, but this was fun to write! The title means “The stars incline us, but do not bind us.”




I was born on the Saratoga, a class 2 transport running supplies between the consolidated colonies of the outer ring planets. It’s down in the records as the middle day of seven in a Night cycle as we drifted between suns, all lights on emergency use only until we could make it in range of the next system to recharge the auxiliary batteries. Mom always said that Night stretched so long because I was hoarding all the light for myself, so I could burst to life as five pounds six ounces of screaming starfire. She said she knew I’d be fine out here in the black, that she knew I could make my life here and be happy without a sun and a planet because even from that very first moment she could see the light in my eyes; a true spacer, whose inner fire keeps them warm even in the darkest times.

I never had the heart to tell her she was wrong.


My defection started like this: I was seven sol-years old and setting foot on a planet for the first time. Gravity dragged at me. My feet and hands felt heavy, my head hurt. The floor seemed to roll out in front of me, curving and bucking when I tried to walk. I fell more than a few times, and my mother tried to get me to go back to the shuttle, but I refused. Everyone else in my class had been planetside, even Monica and Neil, both two years younger than me, and I was determined to have my turn.

One of the station attendants gave me a pair of crutches and I gritted my teeth and kept going, one shaky step at a time, until I was through the doors and really, really in-atmosphere for the first time in my life.

The heat of the sun felt like a caress over my hair. The breeze tugging at my shipsuit was a revelation. There were sounds I’d never heard before, smells I’d never dreamt of, more colors than I’d ever thought possible. Actual living animals flew above me. Vibrant green plants pushed between cracks in the stone path, utterly unplanned-for.

It was too much. I cried. I screamed. I curled in a ball on the ground—real, solid ground!–and bawled my tiny heart out while the sun beat on my neck, and I refused to move no matter how my shipmates coaxed and pulled and scolded. Mom always said after it was some kind of sign, that it was proof I knew I belonged in space, even that young. The rest of the adults laughed about it for years. They’d muss my hair affectionately whenever it came up at a party, or a holiday, or a community hearing, or a graduation ceremony, and say things like That’s our Astra, and A born shiprat, you are.

I wasn’t allowed off-ship again for a decade.

Keep reading

Family

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Request: “Could You Write Something Where The Reader Pretty Much Grows Up With The Winchesters And Her Mom Dies And So They Basically Adopt Her And The Reader Develops Feelings For Dean But Doesn’t Think He Feels The Same Way About Her? Thank You!”

Warnings: Mild swearing, death, mentions of sex. 

Word Count: 2009

Notes: Since you didn’t really specify any ending I just winged it, hope you enjoy anon! -Dani (You’re welcome for proofreading this, Dani! -Lottie) (Also Y/M/N means “your mom’s name”)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi!!!! Don't know if you're still taking prompts but if you do, here is mine :) imagine an au where everything is different and Jamie has the chance to court Claire properly (in the 18th century) An au completely different from the show or a "what if Jack Randall never met Claire" kind of au. I can't wait to read your works as always, thank you ❤

Eloped:

Claire giggled as she ran through the thick grass that grew along the outskirts of the forest, ducking and diving under branches as she darted as far as she could from the ever watchful gaze of her protectors at Lallybroch.

“Claire Beauchamp…amongst the savages!” She could hear the mockery in their tone even now, her relatives aghast at the idea of Uncle Lamb bringing her to such a place, especially so close after the horrors of Culloden.

But Claire didn’t mind; in fact she prefered the vast Scottish landscapes to the dense cities of England. Here, people didn’t care as to her name, or her position. Here she was just allowed to be Claire.

Spared from the ravages of the British Army, Broch Tuarach lay hidden just a stones through from Bewley, and only a carriage ride from Inverness. The inhabitants, Clan Fraser, had escaped relatively unscathed during the conflict, having hovered only on the periphery for a time. Brian Fraser had steered his men well, keeping the majority of them on neutral ground during the conflict. Their direct relatives, Clan Mackenzie had not been so fortunate.

Still, Brian and Ellen had three young children to raise, and embedding themselves in a merciless bloody war wouldn’t have been wise.

At the thought of their wee brood, Claire’s cheeks flushed pink, the spread reaching the tips of her ears as she raised herself just high enough to see through the grass and down into the valley.

There, at the bottom of the hill with his hand shading his eyes from the sun was Jamie Fraser. The youngest of the Frasers.

Claire’s heart raced, the blood pumping thick through her veins as she slid closer to the ground, pulling her skirts around her as she tried to cover herself. Licking her lips, she could still recall the tingle she’d felt after their first stolen kiss.

Rolling onto her back, Claire gazed up at the sky, her eyes glazing over as the afternoon sun warmed every inch of her. Toeing off her ragged shoes, she slid her feet through the shorter grass beside her, enjoying the heat as it surged through her.

Jamie.

They had only been acquainted a month or so, him having been at school in Paris when Lamb and herself had arrived, but the moment he’d caught her eye she’d known. Smiling, she bit her lip, a strange sensation taking hold of her, making her breasts almost…ache. Clenching her thighs together, tight, she pushed herself from the ground and scuttled sideways into the dense tree line, abandoning her shawl completely as she sought refuse amongst the low boughs.  

Finding a relatively safe spot, Claire leant against a tree and closed her eyes as she inhaled a rather large breath. Something about Jamie called to her. The soft swell of his boyish chest, the way certain curls flicked from the top of his head as he moved about the place, the carefree glint that lit his sea-blue irises. Everything about James Fraser called to her.

Suddenly, a strong pair of arms gripped her waist, turning and pinning her against the trunk of the tree, his hands wrapped solidly around her wrists as he ran his nose along the length of hers.

“Thought ye could outfox me, did ye, sassenach?” Jamie purred, his pet name for her warming the butterflies in her belly as they flip-flopped.

“Maybe I was luring you out here, did you ever think of that….” she cooed in return, a roll of her hips bringing their midsections in direct contact with one another.

Both of them knew that they were skirting a fine line.

Neither of them cared.

“Aye, I ken ye might do that…wee fairy temptress that you are.” He whispered, nipping the lobe of her ear with his teeth as he finished his teasing.

Taking his lips against hers, Claire ended their conversation, pulling Jamie to her with a passionate kiss that made her belly throb and her knees wobble.

His tongue probed at her lips, gently licking her sensitive skin as she tipped her head to the side and opened her mouth, answering his silent question.

“We ha’ to tell them, Claire,” Jamie murmured between caresses, his sweet breath fanning over Claire’s burning face as she bent forwards, trying desperately to bring him back to her, needing the contact, “I want to court ye properly, no’ in secret…please…”

Picking her foot off the floor, Claire wrapped her calf around Jamie’s bottom, driving him closer to her, as close as he could possibly get –for the moment.

“What will they say do you think?” Claire returned, worry niggling on the boundary of her happy place, locked together here –alone with Jamie.

“I dinna ken precise actions, Claire,” Jamie soothed, letting go of her still-restrained hands and running just the tips of his fingers over her damp brow, shifting the wisps of hair that clung to the skin there. “But I think they’ll be pleased.”

‘I think they already know,’ is what he didn’t say, unsure as to how perceptive Claire had been on the matter.

But Claire did know, her eyes holding his as they communicated silently.

“Pleased…” Claire whispered, her tongue peeking just between her lips as she spoke.

“Alright,” she declared, an assertiveness to her tone that Jamie knew all too well, “let’s tell them….” Pausing, Claire looked beyond the tree line and back again, her brows furrowing for just an instant as she processed Jamie’s request. “B-but –tell them what, exactly?”

Jamie smirked, his lips twitching and his eyes lightening as he dipped his head ever so slightly.

“That, Claire Beauchamp –Fraser–, ye are to be my wife.”

Hal paced the worn rug, his boots ruffling the loose hairs on the weave as he stomped up and down in front of the fireplace.

“What *is* Quentin thinking?!” He muttered, ill at ease with the thought of his niece and that…*Scot*. “I told you, John. Didn’t I say!” He spat, flicking the contents of his finished pipe into the roaring embers of the fire as he twisted to face his brother.

John sat rubbing his chin, gazing at his ill-tempered brother, watching as a stray bead of sweat slid down his forehead, across his temple and down his rosy-red cheek.

“Marriage?! Has he gone daft! They’re *farmers*, Scottish farmers at that. They’re probably still harbouring fugitives of the law! And our young Claire…”

Shuddering, Hal gave John a despairing looking. “Send for them!” He finished, sensing little to no cooperation from John. “Bring them both home. I won’t have them dishonouring us like this.”

John tried not to laugh, swilling the remaining contents of his brandy around the bottom of the crystal glass he held between his fingers.

“Quentin loves Claire like a daughter, Hal,” John appeased, finally breaking his silence, “he wouldn’t let her come to any harm. You know that–”

The door slammed open, the handle hitting the wall with a soft thud as Hal’s wife, Minnie, barged her way into the sitting area.

“Hal, could I have your opinion on something…please?” She asked, batting her eyelashes at Hal in a move far too feminine for her.

Winking secretively at John, she led Hal out into the hall and shook her head, closing the wood solidly behind her.

Sighing, John took a final swig of his drink, the cool liquid setting the back of his throat on fire as it ran down his oesophagus.

Claire was just like her mother, and Hal knew it well. He’d been just about ready to remind Hal of the fact when Minnie had, rather appropriately, interrupted.

He’d send the letter, as requested, but both he and Minnie knew what the result of that action would be. And it certainly wouldn’t be Claire and Quentin reunited with them on English soil.

The letter came soon enough.

Claire was excited, bouncing on her toes as uncle Lamb ran his finger under the seal, popping the wax, his eyes flitting across the page as he read Hal’s words carefully.

His smile dropped, his hands beginning to shake as he turned to Claire, a look of distress plastered over his usually jolly features.

“Claire, darling…” he cooed, trying to calm her before he’d even revealed the news.

“He said no –didn’t he?” She whispered, her voice breaking as her heart plummeted.

She hadn’t even considered that he’d turn her down.

“He did. I’m sorry, my beauty.” Sighing, Lamb re-folded the note and placed it carefully into his pocket. “But that’s not all, I’m afraid.”

Claire saw the truth in his eyes before he’d even voiced the words.

Backing up, she shook her head as she fled the living room, her sobs echoing through the empty corridors of the big house as she slammed the door to her rooms, cupping her hand over her mouth as she slid to the floor. Letting the agony consume her. Claire crawled towards the fire and curled up on the large rug. Wrapping her arms around her knees she cried, her tears dripping onto the thin fibres of the neatly woven carpet.

“You can’t make me leave,” she wept, her words only audible to herself, “I won’t let you take me back…I won’t!”


Sneaking into her room, Jamie carefully closed the door behind him as he crept over to the fireplace and wrapped himself around her. The embers had long since died out, leaving her in a tiny frozen ball.

“I had to wait, Claire, I’m sorry…” he spoke, his warm breath fanning over her chilled flesh as she linked her frigid fingers with his hot ones, “yer uncle has been packing for ye.”

Claire shook her head, fervently disagreeing with any idea of leaving Lallybroch and Jamie.

“Hush now, sassenach,” he soothed, feeling her distress as he tried to quash her fears. “Ye havena heard the story of my parents first meeting, have ye?” He continued, hope igniting his tone as a stray flame danced to life in time with his words.

“N-no.” Claire stuttered, her eyes suddenly blinking open at the hint of optimism in Jamie’s voice.

“Then let me tell ye now, aye? …and ye ken already that it has a happy ending.”

Locking her hands with his more solidly, Claire nodded, the lead weight lifting from her chest as he began to recount one night, long before his birth, where two lovers slipped away into the night, leaving behind the dark cloud of those who wished to keep them apart…

Okay @bleusarcelle O k I decided to combine your two asks to make it simpler!

Here we go!!!!!

Lance has had plenty of nightmares before, always gotten through them with his family or in space, with Hunk and even Pidge.

Lance has also faced a series of injuries, spanning from a killer bruise to a deadly cut, out in space, he faced it all. All except druid magic…until now.

When he was narrowly dodging the druids’ magic during the mission today, he knew his luck would soon run out. And when it did, it was face to face with Haggar. With a rasped out “Enough!” And a similar to lightning bolt, Lance flew back from the impact of a burning, stinging, and paralyzing sensation in his abdomen.

The team had barely escaped that morning and when he was asked about injuries, he assured his team he was truly fine. It wasn’t a lie to be honest, though a strange stinging feeling traveled through him ever since the hit, he wasn’t in any pain anymore. So the day continued as normal and everyone went to bed. Lance had a bad feeling in the core in his stomach but didn’t know why and assumed it was more side-effects to the nasty hit he took that morning. He went to be as normally.

So here he was, eyes wide open but feeling closed, staring around in his dark room with a cold sweat running down his neck. For what felt like hours he tried to move, to talk, to yell for help but nothing prevailed. He had only heard of sleep paralysis before but never faced it himself. He despised it. Not only was it disorienting, but he knew the next morning he’d be exhausted. That was the most of his worries until he saw it.

A strange figure in the corner of his room, completely black with bright eyes. Was he hallucinating? Is he imagining this or was it really there? Its not like Lance could check it out, his neck refused any of his brain’s orders. The darkness seemed to envelop the already dark room, it sent Lance on edge. Get it away. Get it away.

The more Lance struggled the larger the figure seemed to be, it almost looked like… Haggar. With dark robes covering herself and the room, two yellow eyes glowed in the darkness. Lance tried to scream. Nothing.

A deep sound echoed in Lance’s mind. “Enough.” Over and over again, Lance could almost feel the magic striking him making him desperately cry out. He cried out loud. Broken out from his paralysis, Lance curls up in a ball finding tears on his face and burying it in his pillow.

A few minutes later, a knock was heard on Lance’s door. He heard it, but for some reason he didn’t believe it happened, and wanted anything but to look back into the dark room that could still hold The dark figure. He could hear whispers, didn’t know if they were in his head or not. They weren’t, because Keith had aggressively opened the door and stomped inside with a grunt.

Lance didn’t know what he expected but it certainly wasn’t the red paladin’s hand gently on his shoulder. His thumb rubbing soothing lines on him as a quiet voice finally got Lance to open his eyes.

“Lance…are you okay?”

“No.” he whimpered in a raspy voice. He sees Keith’s worried expression out of the corner of his eye and for some reason sent a fresh wave of tears down his face. Keith embraced Lance as best he could while lying down, Lance was comforted just by his presence.

A heavier, warmer, person had joined them with large arms around the both of them. Hunk, Lance knew, rested his forehead on Lance’s side and- Was he crying?

Another someone crawled on his bed behind him and he knew it was Pidge who curled up beside him with her hands around Lance. He felt her glasses poking into his back. Had she even gone to bed before now?

Two toned arms wrapped around all of them at once, Shiro. Lance had everyone hugging him at once, and when he got past the first weird realization, he was happy he had a family to be there for him here in space.

“Lance, we’re here for you.” Shiro’s calm voice quiet but strong, reassured him. Lance started crying again, but this time, with a smile on his face and a family with him.

Huntress- Part 17: Power

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E17 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen
Part Sixteen


Dragging yourself down the steps of the bunker you tried your best to ignore your Uncle and Dad’s worried stares. Thankfully, they didn’t have time to question anything. Your head was bearing sharp pains, making you feel ten times worse. But, again, you said nothing.
“How did you get here?” Dad’s defensive statement caused you to glance up form your feet. There was Mick. He had a glass of whiskey and was sat comfortably at the table. Her smiled “Alright lads…you know, this is our building. It’s men of letters.”
“It’s creepy.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes.
“That key of yours opens up the door to every Men Of Letters bunker there is.” 
“What do you want?” 
“It’s urgent, so here me out. A few weeks back our lab picked up some sort of cosmic energy-”
“A nephilum.” Dad nodded, the three of you were well aware.
“You knew?” Mick looked offended, like some sort of trust between you had broken. You didn’t remember making something to be broken in the first place.
“We had her.” Uncle Dean admitted.
Had?” 
“She got away.”
“You let her get away!” Mick was in shock. 
“She wanted to get rid of the baby too. We didn’t think she was just going to up and run like that. Besides, while you lot were off sipping tea they were locked up!” You snapped at him.

Everyone hesitated and fell silent. You glared at him before saying “I’m going to bed. Don’t try to wake me up.” 

You trudged away from them, feeling their confused stares on your back. Making your way to your bedroom, you closed the door and sunk to the floor. Your head was now throbbing.

You clutched it, trying not to hit it against something in some sort of desperate attempt to stop it. Flashes of the one before Claire, the experiment, appeared in your mind. You hissed in pain. This wasn’t normal. This can’t have been-

A surge of agony broke you from the thought, making you curl into a ball, shaking lightly from the never ending pain. Your hands clenched into fists. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair.
Why didn’t she survive it? Why didn’t she survive? 
You were angry and desperately trying to keep yourself calm. Each breath was harder than the last. Your grip tightened around your hands as you pictured her screams and cries for help.
Anger was swarming inside your mind and everything changed to shapes. Reds and oranges took over as the vibrant hues danced in your vision. The rage was reaching it’s peak, a breakdon was rising up rapidly as your felt your hands shake in attempt to free themselves from their own grip. Your heartbeat throbbed loudly in your mind, muffling out any other sounds.

Then you broke.

At first you heard nothing, but a deafening white noise as it pierced your ears. Then a smash.  
Everything fell dark as shards of glass scattered about the floor. Some sliced through your own skin, but you didn’t even flinch. You shouted and cried, burying your head in your hands, bringing your knees to your chest. You coughed- your head now ready to explode.
A harsh cough escaped your throat, sending acid and bile up with it, it seeped through the edges of your mouth, making you choke on the bitter foam.
Then, you felt nothing.


“Anyone seen, Y/N?” Mick asked, walking in on two slightly hung-over and very tired Winchester brothers.
“She told us not to wake her and judging from the way she was I’m keen to obey.” Dean explained, taking a sip of water.
“Alright. I just thought I outta say sorry. She wasn’t wrong, to be fair.” Mick admitted.
“If she’s up she’ll be in her room. Knock and wait.” Dad ordered, making sure an angry teenager wasn’t added to the list of problems.
“Alright, cheers.”

When Mick reached Y/N’s room he knocked on the door and waited for almost a full minute before sighing. “Here goes nothing.” He mumbled, turning the door handle. Only, when he opened the door he saw something he wasn’t expecting. “Y/N?” Mick asked hesitantly, hurrying over to where her unconscious body was. She was on her side, eyes closed, breathing even. If it weren’t for the cuts along her body from the broken light bulb, it would have looked like she was sleeping peacefully. “Sam!” Mick called in a panic.
Running footsteps sounded as Sam sprinted towards Y/N’s room. When he arrived he nearly stepped back at the sight of it.

His daughter was lying in the middle of what looked more like a bomb-site than a bedroom. Shards of glass were plastered across the floor, a few pieces sticking into her bare arms and some on her face, both orbited by specks of dried blood. “Y/N!…Sweetheart?” Sam knelt down next to her, his eyes glistening with tears “Can you hear me?”

Please.” Sam begged. Dean followed after his brother, kneeling next to his niece.
“What happened?” He demanded. No one knew so no one spoke. Sam sat his daughter up against his chest, taking some tissues from the box and wiping away the sick that was around her mouth. Mick began to clear away the area surrounding her body as Dean grabbed the first aid kit. He opened it up and took out a pair of medical tweezers. Dean gently pulled some of the glass from her skin, wiping away any excess blood that oozed out of the wounds.

She groaned a little, trying to grab back hold of consciousness. Dean paused. “Y/N…?” Sam encouraged, squeezing her hand.
“It…it didn’t…” She never finished, her eyes drooping shut. She faded in and out of consciousness as Dean finished clearing her wounds up.

Sam lifted her up gently- bridal styel. He then lay her down on her bed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling up a chair next to her. He put his elbows on the mattress, resting his head in his hands. “I don’t understand.” He admitted- lost. “What the hell happened?” Sam looked up to Dean. His older brother. His guide.

“Sammy, I-“ Dean gulped “I don’t know.”

“Some sort of fit…” Mick said “Did she ever tell you about her…power?” He didn’t like to use the word ‘power’.
“Yeah. When we found that other psychic, she used it a little.” Sam nodded, determined to understand what had happened. Mick nodded slowly “She’s dangerous. Or she can be.”
“But she wasn’t using it.” Sam didn’t understand.
“No….but she was angry. Of course.” Mick nodded to himself, suddenly understanding the mood you were in “She was angry.” He repeated.
“Why?” Uncle Dean questioned, folding his arms against his chest.
“The cure. It worked for Claire.”
“Why’s that a bad thing?” Dean pressed.
“Because it didn’t work for Max.”


You awoke to the sounds of muffled voices and a throbbing head. You heaved yourself up from the bed, sitting up straight and taking in your surroundings. This was your room. You had a few bandages on your arms and there were two chairs next to your bed.

You pressed the palm of your hand up to your head as though it would help with the pain.
You were still angry, but maybe because you weren’t fully recovered you wouldn’t lash out aomeone by accident. After a moment of hesitation you made your way towards the voices. Occasionally, you stopped when everything started swaying.
Your throat was dry.

The voices kept growing louder until you turned the corner. You held onto the door frame, your eyes falling on the backs of Dad and Uncle Dean as they discussed Kelly…the one pregnant with the nephilum.
You opened your mouth to say something, anything, like “hey” or “sorry for breaking your lightbulb”, but only a cough came out.

Their heads turner towards you in shock. Dad rose from his chair and smiled: “Y/N”.
He headed straight for you and hugged you tightly, wrapping his arms around you protectively. “God, you scared us.” He said, relaxing as you hugged back.

“Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly.
When Dad let go Uncle Dean shot you a smirk before hugging you too. You hugged back, smiling in his embrace. You nearly stumbled when he let go, but managed to balance yourself.

Your eyes squeezed shut for a few seconds as you tried to stop the room from turning.

“The hell happened in there?” Dad asked, taking your hand and guiding you a little.
You followed them to the table, too tired to refuse the help. You shrugged.
“Let me guess, you don’t want to talk about it?” Uncle Dean rolled his eyes. You found it hard ot tell if he was being serious or not. “Sometimes I can’t control it. I think I can. But I can’t. Like…everything’s fine,  but suddenly something happens that reminds me of all this shit I’ve been through and it happens.”
No one knew what to say.

“My head hurts. Then I break something. Then I throw up. Then I pass out.” You went through the same stages. “Always the same. “
“Did you smash the lightbulb…with your mind?” Dad asked, leaning forward.
“Yeah. Not on purpose, though. I just. God I don’t know…” You paused to try and think straight “I feel everything rising up and it all snaps. Then something breaks. Or sets on fire. Or falls down.”
“Like I said,” Mick appeared behind you all “She’s dangerous…” He paused, looking at you sympathetically “but, she’s not a bad person.”
“She’s also sitting right here.” You noted.
“Yes…” Mick caught on and added a quiet “sorry.”

“How’re you feeling?” Dad asked. Maybe he was changing the topic for a reason, or maybe he just didn’t have anything else to say. You sure didn’t. “Fine. My head hurts I guess. But it usually goes after a while.”
“I remember when this happened for the first time,” Mick said “Your Mum wasn’t home and I panicked.  You basically made yourself get better.”
“You lived together?” Dad questioned Mick’s word choices, making you look away.
“Well,” Mick stuttered “It was the Chapter House…there were a few different family’s living together.”
“Really?” Uncle Dean raised an eyebrow in disbelief “You’re a terrible liar.”
Mick didn’t say anything.

“Y/N.” Dad’s firm voice forced you to look at him “Care to shed some light?”
“It was the Chapter House, there were a few different families living together.” You lied, copying Mick’s exact words. “There’s a huge one just north from Central London. “
Your Dad seemed to calm down a little when the words came from you. “Okay.” He didn’t push, but something told you he wasn’t fully convinced either.


Almost two days later you were leaning up against the table, Uncle Dean at your side. Both of you were waiting in anticipation, this was the fifth time you’d called Cas. Once again it went straight to voice mail. “This is my voice mail,” Cas’ awkward voice filled the air once again “Make your voice a mail.”

“Come on Cas we’ve called you about five times already.” Uncle Dean sighed, out of words to say. You shrugged when he glanced at you, followed by him hanging up. “This is hopeless.”
“Is he usually like this?” You asked, still not sure if it was like Cas to leave for quite some time. He was an Angel, so who were you to say what was normal for him?
“Not so much lately.” He shook his head “But even still he usually says what he’s doing or where he’s going.”

A woman called Eileen was sat in the war room with your Dad. She was deaf and used sign language when she spoke. And my God was Dad in love. You didn’t say anything, but watched as he blushed when she spoke. “He’s like a ten year old with his first crush.” You whispered to your Uncle, making him chuckle “Yeah tell me about it.”.
“She’s badass.” You noted, realising just how intelligent this woman was. Not to mention the fact that she was a Hunter. Your Uncle gave you an unreadable look before giving in “Yeah. She sure is.”


Stood next to Eileen, you both watched in amusement as your Dad pretended to be a Doctor to get more information. When he hung up Eileen gave up a thumbs up, Dad grinned back and joined the mini line you’d made. You were with Mick and Rawlings, who were now part of the whole nephilim predicament. 
“You might wanna take this back with you.” Mick handed over the Cult and Dad took the opportunity to sass him “Gee Mick. I thought we’d gotten past the trust issues.”
You gave Rawlings a glare before getting in the Impala.

Everyone arrived at some sort of abandoned looking carpark. You were waiting for Dean who, hopefully, would be with Kelly and maybe even Cas. “Who’s this?” Dean pointed at Rawlings.
“I’m Rennie…Rawlings. Graduated Kendrick’s-”
“Great. I don’t care.” Uncle Dean ignored his ‘look how amazing i am’ speech and opened up the door for Kelly. She refused any more help and got out of the car, staring at you all with brave fear.

Dad stepped up “Kelly, we all know what difficult situation you’re in and we..we want to help.” He kept a calm voice as not to frighten her anymore.
“You call this help?” She asked, rubbing her stomach where the baby-bump was.
“That kid, “ Uncle Dean began “It’s Lucifer’s.”
“I know!” She snapped “Do you think I wanted this? I love this child.”
“You will mean absolutely nothing to that child when it’s born. It’ll kill us all.” Mick scolded. 
“Not helping.” You hissed at him. 
“This is absurd.” Rawlings reached for his gun.

“Don’t!” You and Uncle Dean warned him, only to be cut short by a menacing sound with a strong wind. You paused…this wasn’t natural.
“She’s here.” Kelly managed, looking ten times more afraid than she had been.
who?’ you thought. 

Everyone reached for their gun and stood apart to cover more ground. You all protectively glanced around to see who, or what, it was. “Hey!” A shout came from behind. You glanced around, seeing a woman…well…demon, with yellow glowing eyes and a determined expression. She threw her hands up, sending everyone except Kelly to the ground. You smashed against one of the broken up cars, your gun trying it’s best to slip from your grip,

She walked forward with a blank expression as everyone fired at her. You stopped, putting your gun down. This was a waste of bullets. She was a Prince Of Hell, she’s not going to die from bullets. She threw her hands up at those still left with guns in their grips, making them drop their weaponry, and continued to advance towards Kelly.

You watched as Eileen reached for the cult, lying just in front of her reach. She grabbed hold, cocking it and holding her finger over the trigger. She aimed for the Demon’s head, squeezing the trigger.

However, as the gunshot sounded you watched in a helpless realisation as the Demon disappeared from view, along with Kelly Kline. The bullet continued further along it’s path than it should have and hit Rawlings in the chest. His eyes widened in shock and pain before he fell to the floor. Blood seeped down his shirt.


You stayed close to your Dad as you watched Mick kneel down next to Rawlings, well aware of the bloody code. “I- I didn’t mean to.” Elileen apologised, moving closer to where Mick was. “I meant to shoot the demon.” 
“It’s okay it was an accident.” Dad reassured her, but Mick was unconvinced.

You opened your mouth, halfway between wanting to warn Eileen and shout at Mick. Mick reached for his gun and held it up in front of Eileen. “Woah woah!” Uncle Dean gasped.

“What are you doing?” Dad demanded.

“Mick put the gun down!” You shouted at him loudly. Everyone else had their hands up in defense except you.
“B-But she shot a Men Of Letters. She has to die!”
“It’s not as simple as that!” Dad protested.
“But it’s the code.” Mick was lost.
“Fuck the code!” You practically screamed at him. You stormed past Eileen and your Dad who grabbed onto your shoulder to stop you. You shrugged him off, marching right in front of the barrel. “Y/N, get out of my way.”
“You know I won’t.” You glared at him, trying your best not to look scared.
“Then I’ll shoot you too!” You could see up close that Mick’s eyes were teary.
“You won’t do that.” You said calmly “You don’t have to answer to that stupid code. You can answer to yourself.”

“Your Mum did that.” He was close to crossing a line you’d clearly drawn “And look where it got her.” Your eyes narrowed as he continued “Max tried. Look where that got her.” 
“You’re not Mum! You’re not Max! And you’re not my family!“ You cried.
Mick’s expression fell at your words. 

Please.” Eileen begged “Please don’t…”

Mick squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Mick…” Dad had stepped forward, putting his hand on your shoulder and dragging you away from the gunpoint. Mick followed with the gun absentmindedly before putting it back in front of Eileen. “I know you have this code that you blindly answer to. But you’re better than that.”

Mick lowered his gun, looking in pain as he did so. He avoided everyone’s gaze. “Just go…” he whispered.
Dad nodded, backing away. Only he stopped when you didn’t move. You didn’t know what to do. Did you mean what you’d said? Half of you wanted to apologise whereas the other wanted to walk away. “Y/N,” Dad put his hands on your shoulders “Come on, kid.” 

The four of you trudged down the stairs. Eileen was in front, her hand went to her face where she no doubt wiped away an escaped tear. You watched sympathetically as she stumbled to a halt. 

“You okay?” Uncle Dean asked her.
She nodded for a few seconds, before changing her mind “No…hee wasn’t a monster…he wasn’t” Dad stood next to her, perhaps about to offer some form of comfort, but she hugged him without needing an offer. He hugged back, his head resting protectively on hers. 


“Morning…?” Dad raised an eyebrow at you. It was at least 2 or 3am by now. You’d been up for quite some time.
“Morning.” You hummed, not glancing up from your fidgeting hands.
“Been up long?” He asked, sitting down on the table next to you. Your feet swung, not quite touching the floor.
“A few minutes.” You shrugged.
“Right.” He nodded, still in his night clothes. You both knew he didn’t believe you, but no one said anything.
“What were you reading?” He asked, nodding towards the open book on the table. 
“I wasn’t actually reading it…” You admitted, not sure how to explain.
“What else do you do with books?” He asked, slipping off the table and folding it over to read the title “This is in Latin. You can read this?”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t reading it. I was just..turning the pages.”
“Turning the pages?” He echoed. You nodded, not wanting to say it out loud. Dad noticed your slight awkwardness and took a moment to think through everything you’d said. “Oh…you mean, Turning the pages like…with your mind?” 

You nodded. “Maybe if I use this…whatever this is…for harmless stuff it won’t build up. And I won’t hurt anyone.” 
He offered a sad smile then joined you again, his feet touched the floor. “Maybe.”
“I never told Mum.” You admitted.
“What?”
“I never told her. As far as she was concerned I was normal.” You explained.
“You are normal.” Dad reassured.
“Max couldn’t do it.” You ignored him.
“Really?”
“Just me.”

“I’m sorry…”
You frowned in thought “Why?” 
“Mick told us what happened to Max.” 
“Oh…” You looked away again.
“I know it must have been hard to watch it work on Claire after.. But, that is a good thing. It’s not fair, but it did save a life.” Dad tried to calm you down, but you’d already lost it over that. 
“They made me watch.” You said blankly.
“Watch?”


“When they realised that the cure wasn’t working they made me watch her die.” You took a deep breath. ‘Don’t cry’ you told yourself. 
“That’s horrible, Y/N I’m so sorry.” 
“I think-” You paused, having never said these words out loud before “I think they meant for her to get bitten.”
“What makes you think that?”
“They never liked us. They could just pass it as an excuse for an experiment. Nothing they did for us was ever due to good intentions.” You didn’t know how to say it without sounding way too suspicious of them.

“What did they have against you?”
“I’m not traditional. I’m not obedient. I didn’t go to Kendrick’s. I have a brain-”
You were cut off by him chuckling at the last point “You’ve been through a lot.” He commented.
“Not compared to some.” You shrugged it off.
“Doesn’t make it insignificant.” He countered, smiling at you.

You didn’t move for a while. “You should get some sleep.” He said, placing a gently hand on your shoulder. 
“Yeah.” You agreed absentmindedly. 
“Come on.” He said calmly, guiding you away from the room.

When you reached your bedroom you noticed he hadn’t left your side. “Y/N, hey. Look at me.” 
You glanced up, your eyes tired and teary. He had a sullen look. 

Without saying anything he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly. You squeezed your eyes shut in his embrace in a desperate attempt to keep the tears from falling. Dad’s arms held you close in comfortable silence. “I’m proud of you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your head. “So proud.”



Masterlist

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(Tag list after cut)

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Concerned

Jensen Ackles x Reader

1500 Words

Story Summary: Requested by @iwriteaboutdean-personalblog. Requested a story about the reader who is sick, and Jensen is concerned. Gets mad when she won’t go to the doctor. Hope it’s kind of what you wanted!

“Y/N, sweetie, everything okay in there?” Your husband Jensen asked. He was standing outside the bathroom door, a door you never used to lock against him. It was locked now, because you didn’t want him to see how bad you actually felt. Another cough racked your body, and you covered it with a tissue. Pulling it away, you were a little scared to see the tiny bit of blood covering the white cotton.

“Yeah, everything’s okay.” You replied, even though you felt anything but okay. You hadn’t felt okay in a while, but you didn’t want him to know. He worried enough about you, about leaving for five days at a time. If he knew you weren’t feeling good, it would make everything worse.

Keep reading

dating mark!!

2/? for the dating series!

lets get on it!

———-

- so,,, y'all meet during trainee days

- he’s the new trainee and you help him cause you were from canada too

- “ok so this is training room 2 and oMG PUT JAEHYUN PUT YOUR SHIRT ON”

- tbh that was mark first impression for jaehyun and still teases him to this day

- anyway 

- you asked him what he got in for (rap, dance, vocals, or acting)

- and he was like

-“rap cause i got that canadian swag

- turns out you rap too!

- you guy had this deep ass convo about your fave rappers and shit

- btw ur a 99 liner too (or whatever u want but)

- you guys became pretty tight

- and both developed feeling for each other but those don’t get announced for a while 00ps

- time skiP 4.5 yEArS

- sO now markipoo is about to debut nd you still hAVENT jeSus

-  mark still likes u a lot and vice versa

- like with doyoungs, the guys pretty much pressure him into confessing messing cause e all know he wouldn’t

- so like he wrote this rap for u aND its!! so!! sweet!!

- he like strummed his guitar and rapped and uGH yOU almOST crIeD

- all yo members were like “jeno beTTA DO THIS FOR ME OR IM SUING”

- anyway ofc u accepted cause,,,, he’s mark

- yALL R THAT COUPLE

- the one that everyone wants to be 

- yOU GUSY R SO CUTE AHHH

- you would wake up to texts asking if you’ve eaten, slept, and had a good day

- like maRk i sHoUlD bE asKINg yOU thAt

- he isn’t into pda tho

- like occasionally u will get a nose peck or smth but that as about it

- its cool tho cause ur not into it either

- OMG U WERE THE ONE WHO STARTED THE SEAGULL EYEBROW THING

- like oneday u were like

- “mark i drew a bird  (like the one thats a curvy line y’know) isn’t i- OMG IT LOOKS LIKE UR EYEBROWS FUCKAHKSHH”

- “I’m breaking up w u” - mark

- he doesn’t mean it tho

- he loves u sm like its crazy

- he will give the bEST hugs

- and cuddles!

- he just pulls u into his chest and wraps his arms around you uHGHG

- conversations that switch between english and korean

- sometimes confusing as hell cause he talks fast and u can’t tell whether it was eng or kor and just nod along

- hE ALWAYS PLAYS HIS GUITAR

- and even tho he aint a vocal, he’s a vocal

- HIS VOICE IS SUCH A BLESSINGOMG U DIED WHEN U HEARD DUNK SHOT

- like he just whisper raps and it soUND SO GOOD

- always raps to u

- lmao his confession rap was cringe as hell

- “u nd i got that sw-sw-swag and those sk-sk-skills”

- YOU JUST WHISPER IT IN HIS EARS OUT OF NOWHERE AND HIS REACTION IS PRICELESS

- he makes that face,,, you know,,, the one where he just stares blankly for a sec (pros  cause he forgot it and had to take a moment to remember)

- tHEN HE JUST LOOKS AT U WITH THE WIDEST EYES

- “stOP THAT WAS LIKE A YEAR AGO OMG”

- remember y'all r only 99 liners so nO FUNNY STUFFZIES 

- taeyong, doyoung and jaehyun had to give y'all the talk

- u guys couldn’t make eye contact until 3 days later

- when marks sad, you make sure to give him the biggest hug and let him vent out his feelings

- usually r about missing home and having the stress of debuting in tHrEE groups 

- you just whisper like “one day, we can go to canada together”

- and he looks up at u with his puppy eyes nd

- “promise?”

- “promise.”

- omG U R PRETTYMUCH PART OF THE FOREIGN  SWAGGERS

- u and johnny made a diss track about sm

- “yo,,,uh,,,johnny boi hasnt debuted,,,uh,,,I’ve been a trainee for 6.9 years,,,check,,”

- it was trash but it was YOUR trash

- mark once got jelly of jaehyun cause u guys r really close like siblings

- “yo jaehyun sauce le peppers’

- “why can’t i sauce the peppers :(” - mark

- y'all haven’t really gotten into a fight

- like u’ve disagreed b4 but not a full out fight or anything

- once tho, he told u were “untalented and helpless” cause you accidentally spilled iced tea on him when he was super stressed out

- and u cried for like 8 hours 

- mARK WAS SO CONFUSED

- he felt so bad like he had to ask his members for help

- ‘mark are actually dumb” - everyone

- he found u curled up in a ball outside on a park bench

- and held u and wouldn’t stop apologizing

- on a higher note

- when he first said “i love you”

- he went to ur debut showcase

- and when u came off stage like all hot n sweaty 

- mark low-key died

- anyway he like hugged u and was like

- “i love u sm”

- and y'all just froze

- “did u-”

- “did i-”

- JAEMIN WAS PROBS FILMING IT 

- u made him send it to u cause like,,, y not

- BUTT YEAH MARK IS SUCH A SWEETIE PIE (bUTT HAHAH)

- I WOULD KILL TO DATE HIM (hahah thats to far but i loaf him)

———–

thanks for reading! 

i will probs post like all of them cause i have a week off school (march break)

anyway, love y'all :)

- emma

anonymous asked:

One-shot where Yuuri has a panic attack alone in the hotel balcony when Victor is out the night before a competition and Yurio hears him from the balcony right under and he calls Victor so they both go to Yuuri's and Victor's room and help Yuuri??? And it gets kinda weird cuz Yurio has never seen him like that and he's pretty scared for him even though he was rude to him the day before, Your writing is so good!!😊

OH GOSH!!! Thank you!!! I hope you don’t mind, I changed it to where it’s just Yurio trying to calm Yuuri down! I hope you like it!!!


——-

Yuuri knows he should call Victor, he knows he should get somewhere safer than the hotel balcony, he knows the aching panic rising in his chest. He knows it all too well.

He couldn’t help the sobs that wracked his chest as the panic bubbled and rose in his chest, he couldn’t help curling into a ball as he sobbed. Hoping Victor would come and help him.

“Oh god.” He cried, and shook, trying but failing to get in the hotel room.

He was not the only one on a balcony tonight though. Yuri Plisetsky was on his 13th floor balcony, drinking coffee and reading a book. At first he can’t hear what was going on above him but soon he couldn’t ignore the sound of sobs, he knew who was in the room above him.

He picked up his cell and called Victor, the man picking up instantly, “ah Yurio! Everything okay?”

“I don’t know, are you in your hotel room?”

“No, I’m out doing some shopping, why?”

“I think katsudon is hurt, I hear crying coming from your balcony.”

“Yurio, can you please go up to our room, the code is 1345, I think he might be having a panic attack, please help him till I can get there.”

“What! How am I supposed to kno-” Victor hung up.

“Bastard.”

He locked his phone and left his hotel room, quickly finding the elevator. Clicking the button as fast as possible, impatient and worried. The 18 year old bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for the elevator doors to open, when he heard the song he entered the metal box clicking the 14th floor and the button that closed the doors.

Finally, he made it to the pairs door, clicking the passcode in and opening the dark wood door. He didn’t see anything when he walked through the opening, just the same room as his, boring couch boring chairs, a tv, a hallway to the bedroom. Then he heard it, gross wet sobbing coming from the balcony.

“Katsudon?” Nothing, he slowly walked towards the doors to the balcony, opening the sliding doors to see Yuuri in a small ball in the corner of the balcony glass railing. “Yuuri, are you okay?” He had never seen his competitor like this, sure he’s seen the man cry before but never like this. He was shaking and sobbing, it was ugly. He walked closer to the shaking blob. Nealling down to get a better look at his rival.

“Yuuri, look at me.” The other man looked up from his knees and looked at the blond in front of him. “You need to get out of the cold Yuuri, come on.” He pulled Yuuri up and into the living room area of the hotel room. Sitting him down on the couch, and sitting next to him. Yuuri was still crying and shaking as they turned towards each other.

“Now, how do I do this,” he thought, how do you calm people down? Oh! You breath! “Okay Yuuri, we’re gonna breath okay. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” Both men breathed, Yuuri not as calm as Yuri, but soon both were in sync with each other.

“Yuuri, that’s good, keep breathing, Victors on the way.”

“He can’t see me like this!” Yuuri yelled, curling back into his protective ball.

“Nope, you need to calm back down katsudon, I already told him about you, he’s on his way back. I thought you loved him. You trust him, he can help you more than I can.” He uncurled Yuuri and went back to breathing. “Come on breath with me.”

They both breathed soothingly till Yuuri’s teas stopped and his body stilled. His eyelids drooped and soon he was fighting the urge to fall asleep.

“Okay, let’s get you in your bed, come on.” Yuri pulled the brunette up and pulled the short man to the bedroom and onto the queen sized bed. “Here you can sleep till Victor gets back.” Yuri turned and left the room. Hopefully the other would stay calm and asleep till his coach got to the room.

He didn’t have to wait long, the door opened a couple minutes later revealing a testy eyed and worried Victor.

“Where is he? Is he okay?” He ran in, sitting on the couch next to his Russian friend.

“He’s fine, he’s in your bedroom asleep, I calmed him down as much as I could.” Victor nodded and stood up quickly, then turned back to Yuri.

“Thank you Yurachka, I owe you so much.”

“No problem, get to your fiancé.”

Victor turned back around and ran to the connected bedroom. That was Yuri’s que to leave, closing the door behind him as he left. Going back to his now cold coffee and book.

Victor however changed into his pajamas and got into bed next to his sleeping fiancé, pulling him to his chest and kissing Yuuri on his forehead.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you today lyubov moya. Sleep well. I’ll be here for you if you need me.”

He soon fell asleep too, holding tightly to his life and love who was dreaming of a gold medal.

Sweet Caroline (Dean Winchester X Reader)

The drives to different places could get pretty boring, especially if it was just music playing in the Impala because Dean refused to talk.

It was late at night, Sam was passed out in the passengers seat due to an unfulfilled sleep the night before, and you were in the backseat trying to use the dim street lamps as a light source so you could see the book you were reading.

Dean kept his hands gripped tight on the steering wheel, focusing on the road as he listened to your soft groans of boredom. “Instead of torturing me with silence, can you please put some form of music on?” You whispered, careful not to wake Sam.

“You’re still awake? You were out cold like an hour ago” Dean muttered, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “I was never asleep, Dean” you grumbled before he scoffed. “Whatever. Yeah, let’s listen to some music” he spat under his breath, obviously annoyed that he had been driving for so long

You sprawled yourself over the leather interior of the Impala, listening to the familiar beat that always made you happy. The same tune that would always get stuck in your head after just listening to it once.

“Oh please, not this song!” Dean groaned as you gasped, sitting up from your crazy position. “Dean come on! Who doesn’t love Neil Diamond?” You asked, snaking your arms around the front seat to hold his shoulders and gently rock his body into excitement.

“This song is overrated!” Dean said before you began to sing along.

“Where it began, I can’t begin to knowing But then I know it’s growing strong Was in the spring Then spring became the summer Who’d have believed you’d come along”

“You seriously know the words? I thought you were better than this, (Y/N)!” Dean cried before you scoffed. “Come on, Dean! I know you want to sing along!” You smiled, before laughing as he fought the urge to sing along, but he finally caved in.

“Sweet Caroline!”

“Dun! Dun! Dun! Dean added, along with banging his hands on the steering wheel which made you laugh even harder, before Sam let out a loud groan before slamming his fist against the off button on the radio.

“Shut up!” Sam shouted, retracting his hand before curling up into a ball and shutting his eyes. “That was fun” you whispered, retracting yourself back into your seat, and lying back down, using one of your many jackets as a blanket. “Good night Dean” you softly spoke before he smiled. “Good night (Y/N)” he responded quietly, continuing to look at the road.

As you were falling asleep, you couldn’t help but hear the soft hums of Sweet Caroline coming from Dean. You began to quietly laugh before his eyes darted to the rear view mirror. “What?” He asked. “Is that song so overrated now?” You giggled as he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep” he muttered under his breath before you smiled to yourself and closed your eyes, as Dean continued to hum Neil Diamond, all night long.

Originally posted by stetsonsalvatore

Bad Day || Jughead Jones

Prompt by @smhshelby: I’m really excited to put a request in omg. I was hoping for a Jughead x reader && I’m honestly putting the rest in your heads, but basically a comfort fic that will make me feel warm fuzzies about the reader having way too much on their plate and kind of snapping at something small that jughead does? && they apologize and try to shove their own problems aside but he tries to cheer her up and help her relax and stuff? i feel like we all need a fic like this on our off days

A/N: I’m in love with comforting!Jughead omfg.

Gif by @ravemreyes

—————

This was the worst day of your life. You were pretty sure about that. It was one of those days where you woke up in a great mood and were excited to start the day. You had gotten dressed in your cutest outfit and had even walked to school because it was such a nice day. But when the doors of the school opened, hell was unleashed. First there was Cheryl who made fun of your clothes and made you feel insecure. Then there was that math pop quiz that you were sure you failed. Then your favorite teacher wasn’t in class today and you got the mean substitute who snapped at you multiple times for not doing your work (which you were doing and doing correctly you might add!) The worst part? Your boyfriend Jughead was nowhere to be seen. Usually the two of you would sit together at lunch and talk about the problems the both of you faced that day. But he wasn’t there. So you sat alone and kept your emotions bottled up. Reggie catcalling you from the next table didn’t help your mood either.

By the time the bell rang signaling the end of the day, you couldn’t wait to get out of there. You rushed home as fast as you could, ignoring your mom’s offers of a snack. You ran upstairs and slammed your bedroom door, trying to keep your tears at bay. Then your phone rang and you answered it without looking to see who it was.

“Hello?” you asked as you sat down on the edge of your bed.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t see you at school today.”

Jughead.

I was working on an article for the Blue & Gold. How was your day?” he asked.

You sighed and laid back on your bed.

“Fine, I guess.” you mumbled.

Despite not seeing him, you could tell that Jughead’s eyebrows rose at your statement.

“Really? Because you don’t sound so fine to me, Y/N.” he joked.

Rage boiled in you. Why couldn’t anyone leave you alone for just one day?

“I said I’m fine, Jughead!” you snapped.

There was silence on the other end of the receiver and the anger you had felt was now replaced with guilt.

“Oh God, I-I’m sorry, Juggie. It’s just been a really bad…” you trailed off when you felt the hot tears from behind your eyes.

What was the point?

“Never mind. I’ll just see you tomorrow, okay?” you said quietly, your voice cracking on the last word.

Before Jughead could say anything else, you hung up the phone and curled up into a ball, crying softly into your pillow. Soon enough, you cried yourself to sleep.

A small tapping at the window was what woke you up. You groaned and sat up groggily, rubbing your eyes. You felt a little bit better now that you had slept for an hour or two but the guilt from yelling at Jughead still remained. The tapping started again and you turned towards the source of the sound. Your eyes widened when you saw your beanie-clad boyfriend at your window.

“Jughead?” you asked as you walked over to the window.

He looked up at you as you pulled the window up.

“Hey there, Juliet.” he said.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” you asked.

Jughead climbed into your room and it was only then that you noticed he had a small backpack on.

“Well, by the sound of your voice over the phone earlier, I figured you needed a little cheering up.” he said as he took his backpack off.

You sighed, remembering your tone at him.

“Juggie, I’m sorry,” you began. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off.

He smiled softly at you.

“I know, Y/N. Which is why I brought you these,”

The raven-haired teen unzipped his backpack, pulling out a handful of snacks and movies.

“Figured we could watch a couple of your favorite movies with your favorite snacks. Got my laptop and everything.” he said.

You beamed.

“I’d love to.” you said.

You snuggled into Jughead’s chest more as he began to play the third movie of the night, smiling widely.

“Thank you, Jughead.” you said softly.

Jughead smirked and kissed the top of your head.

“Anything for you, Y/N. Anything for you.”

—————

A/N: Hope you liked it! Send me feedback!! :)

Taglist

@lydixstiles @jughead-from-riverdale @pinkhappypanda @iamthegoatmaster @subsi4123 @deanskitten @latenightbooknerd @lostinpercyseyes @captainelsaeverdeen @itsjaynebird @allineedisconnor @juggie-jones-iii @superoriginalteenwolf @sastielstan @1amluke @satanwithstardust @johnmurphys-sass @theselfishllama @katshrev @juggiesjuliet @betty-coopers-number-one-stan @imperfectanatomy @casismyguardianangel @irrajj @babearchie @fangites @apocalypticangell @sparklingriverdale @jvghead-jones-iii @onceuponagladerhead @isabellaskyliner @vodkaluh @tegan-eva @the-local-dreamer-star @stephyra17 @reginaphlanageadams @river-vixns @genderabused

From This Far Away

|| a zimbits fic || hurt + comfort || ~2k ||

Bitty sobs in the kitchen. Messy sobs that tear out of his throat and involve his whole body in shakes and twitches. He presses his face hard into his arm to try and muffle the noise.

He needs to stop and go back to bed and to Jack, but it’s so hard when he has dreams about distance and lost time and a million complications. Dreams where he breaks apart; little flakes of confetti scattering down the sidewalk.

The kitchen light flicks on and Bitty cracks his head up, surprised. He squints against the sudden light.

Jack is silhouetted in the doorway. Seeing him brings back all Bitty’s horrible nightmares and daydreams, and the thoughts he tries his best to chase away but that are engraved right up under his ribcage and in the muscles of his hands that shake when he touches Jack’s face sometimes.

Bitty looks away from Jack and curls his legs up toward his body, hunching himself into a ball. He cries into his knees and gasps and apologises to Jack over and over for waking him.

Jack doesn’t say anything. He joins Bitty on the kitchen floor, sitting beside him with creaking knees, and wrapping his arms around Bitty to bring his torso around the curve of Bitty’s bent back.

Bitty feels Jack’s love with him in the room, and it doesn’t stop him from crying. Because love, that’s what the problem is, the big root of all his damn problems. It’s why he’s crying and why he hates crying. Because he loves Jack. So, so, so damn much.

Jack strokes his hair, the shell of his ear, his shoulder. He shushes, and rocks, and is there, dependable and warm.

“I can’t do this, Jack,” Bitty gasps out, shaking his head back and forth, back and forth against Jack’s chest.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How would the guys react when they've been stressing about confessing to their crush, but they end up beating them to it and confessing to the boys instead?

haAAAAA get rekt

Noctis: His jaw drops, and his face flares up into a bright shade of red. He grumbles something under his breath and looks down to rub the back of his neck. “N…No, no, I’m not put off or anything, I’m… I’m really happy, because… I like you, too.” Needing to break the tension, he shoves their shoulder a little bit and groans, “Ah, c’mon, I was stressing over this and you just come out and say it? Who do you think you are?!” Noctis puts an arm around them and pulls them close anyway. “Jeez. If you knew, you could’ve said something.”

Ignis: He struggles to make any sounds for a solid ten seconds, his mouth opens and closes a few times like a stunned fish. “I… I’m happy to hear you feel that way towards me. I think the exact same of you,” he says once he’s over his initial shock. Ignis sighs loudly and runs a hand down his face. “To think I was fretting so ridiculously over telling you how I felt, and for you to utterly beat me in timing… I’m a fool.” He coughs and reaches for their hand to interlace their fingers. “…Consider this payback.”

Gladio: He blinks once, twice, then stares for a few seconds before pulling them to him in an elated hug. “So you did feel the same. What a relief.” He has to admit, he feels awkward being the one worrying so much over how to confess when his crush seemed to do so with such ease. He rubs the back of his neck. “You caught me off guard there, but I was planning on telling you, too. Can’t believe you beat me to it.” Honestly, once the initial embarrassment passes, it doesn’t bother him much. He just holds them and sighs contently. 

Prompto: He’d probably work up the courage to start to say something, but amidst all his nervous stuttering his crush would go ahead and blurt out their feelings for him. “I- wait, what? Wha? Huh? Me? You, like me? Like, like like? Wait, but I was gonna- that’s my line!” He’d curl up into a defensive ball and hide his face with both hands. “Ugh, come on! I was gonna be the first one to say it anyway, why’d you have to interrupt? I mean, hell yeah I’ll still date you, but dammit, I’m so lame!” he cries. He’d need some comforting later, but at the end of the day he’s still light-headed and happy. 

anonymous asked:

*curtsies* you seem like a 'take no shit' person so I beg you, how do I stop being so sensitive? Today my Drs secretary kept laughing at me and made me feel stupid/crazy and I cried for 30 minutes curled up in a ball. The smallest thing sets me off.

*Curtsies* So, this is something I actually really struggle with in other people. My mother and one of my close friends from college are both extremely sensitive. I’m really not; I tend to bounce back quickly from fights and slights and get on with the day, and I don’t know why that’s easier for me to do than it is for someone else. (Probably because I’m selfish and I don’t like being mad about anything for any longer than I have to, truth told.) But the biggest things I struggle with in communicating with super-sensitive people are that (1) they take everything personally and (2) they can’t let anything go. Some of the things people have taken personal offense to absolutely astound me, like mentioning to my mom that I had a really horribly long wait at the doctor’s office (which she perceived as somehow aimed at her because she had recommended the place). Another friend once burst into tears, walked out of a restaurant where all our friends were hanging out because I wanted to know what to do with a bunch of stuff she’d left at my house (which she perceived as being a criticism that she hadn’t cleaned up after herself; it wasn’t, I just genuinely wanted to know what to do with her stuff). 

Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m emotionally obtuse and could have said something in a hurtful way without meaning to, but I also think it’s a bit dangerous to always assume that what another person does is done deliberately to hurt you. Because what I’ve found in these kind of situations is that nine times out of ten it’s actually just a misunderstanding, where intent and impact don’t align. So. Maybe it would be good to step back and try to ask yourself whether the secretary is actually laughing at you, or if maybe there was just something funny about the situation, or if maybe she was just trying to be friendly, or if maybe she was nervous and that was why she laughed. Human behavior happens for a lot of different reasons and assuming that it’s always meant to do you some kind of harm is a hard way to live. The best take-no-shit advice I can offer here (because that is what you asked for) is that next time something like this happens, stop and ask these questions before you get upset: 

  1. Is this really about me or am I making it about me?
  2. Am I possibly overreacting?
  3. Is there a way to clarify the situation?

That last one is really key. I can’t tell you how many fights could be avoided if people just stopped and said, “Wait, what did you mean by that?” But here’s the other key component: If the other person says, “Oh no, I wasn’t laughing at you at all,” you have to actually take them at their word. Give them the benefit of the doubt, because if you don’t you’re going to spend a lot of time weeping about insults that never actually happened, and they will have no idea what they’ve done wrong (and will feel terrible without knowing why). Communication is key. 

Hope this helps.

The Butterfly Effect - Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Metions of divorce and hearing voices/ seeing things. Please don’t read if any of these can be triggering.

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

At Midtown High, there were distinct cliques, and everyone was part of one. They were: the populars, the nerds, the jocks, the wannabes, and the averages. However, to every rule there is an exception to every rule, and in this case the was y/n.  She didn’t fit into any group. She wasn’t extremely smart, sporty, liked, or average. She was the school’s tortured artist. The modern Van Gogh.

From the view of the students, y/n was a quite girl that was quite odd as she was hardly ever seen  without a pencil in hand to sketch something. She seemed normal and harmless, yet no one tried to befriend her. It was the turning of her head to listen to something that no one could hear, or the staring into space with a blank expression as if looking at someone that was absent that made people wary. But, to seal the deal it was the drawings. They always included thing or people that were never there, but they would constantly pop up, and blend into the paint as if they could be seen outside of the painting.

The lack of friends and the odd looks never really bothered y/n as she was content to sit and draw the day away, only to reach home to the arguing of her parents, where she would hide away in her bedroom. This was a constant routine which brought a feeling of sanity to her hectic life, and this went on for several years, until her parents decided to divorce, and her father moving out.

That was when the voices started to become mean, loud, and distracting. Her grades fell, almost as fast as her sanity, because all she could hear was that it was her fault. If she had tried to act more normal, made more friends, her parents would still be happily married. And it was constant, around the clock. Never getting a minute free of the mental torture that was being placed on herself. Yet no one tried to help her as the put her behavior down as a consequence to her parents divorce. So she was more alone than ever.

Yet, one day that changed.

After arriving back from Germany, Peter Parker was porting a number of colorful bruises, and a slight limp, which consequently made him late for class. However such a simple thing changed lives for the better, because, if Peter never hade a limp, he would never have been late for his lesson, and if he wasn’t late for his lesson he would have never seen a small body, sobbing as it was curled up in a ball, resting against the furthest row of lockers.

Due to Peter’s curiosity, and compassion, he neared the shaking body and heard it mumbling to itself as if it was having a one sided conversation. As he neared the person, he could make out that it was y/n y/l/n . The lonely artist. It was usual to see her with a slight frown on her face, but it was impossibly rare to see any tears, as y/n never cried. So, doing what any nice person would do, Peter sat down and attempted to start a conversation with her.

It took y/n ten minutes to notice Peter’s company as the hallucinations were so vivid. Another five for either of them to say a word. Then finally half an hour for Peter to get y/n to open up about her problems. And that was how their friendship started. Whenever the two had a free period together they would sit together in he library. Peter working on new upgrades for his Spiderman suit, that Mr. Stark generously made him, and y/n would draw Peter. Over the months of them sitting together, Peter would tell y/n that he was Spiderman, and all of the crazy stories he had of working with the Avengers.

On some days y/n would get worse, the voices making her doubt her friendship with Peter, yet he would be every so patient and console y/n. Making sure she knew how much he cared for her, but he felt unable to express it. In return, y/n tried to make sure to tell Peter how much her meant to her by gifting him with her drawings and homemade goodies.

Maybe one day they would get together, grow old and live a happy life, or maybe they would grow apart as they strive towards different goals. No on knows as the future is decided on small, seemingly unrelated incidents like spider bites and divorce, yet they lead to things like the possibility of true love. That just shows how powerful the flap of a butterfly’s wing can be.

#4 - Abusive boyfriend

Sum: When Y/N is going to dinner with Shawn her boyfriends snaps.

Words: 820


Originally posted by lovershub

“Y/N, where are you going?” Your boyfriend of 1 year asked once you came down the stairs in a cute dress and a bit more make up on than usual. 

“I’m going out with some friends. Dinner you know.” You said and grabbed your high heels to put them on.

“What friends?” He asked again and stood up from the couch and walked over to you.

“Just some old ones. You don’t know them.”

Suddenly you heard a honk outside and understood that Shawn and his friend Luke were here. You grabbed the door knob to open the door, but Y/BF/N slammed it shut again with one hand which made you look surprised at him.

“Y/BF/N, what do you think you’re doing?” You muttered and tried to open up the door again, but he held it close.

“It’s him, isn’t it? That Shawn guy you’re fucking? I knew it!!” He hissed at you and pushed you back which made you almost fall over.

“What? Y/BF/N I would never do tha—" 

*SMACK* 

You felt a sharp pain on your cheek. The stinging pain made you loose you balance and fall to the floor. With a light hand you caressed your cheek with your fingertips. He-he did it again.

Your boyfriend had abused you before. This had been going on for about 1 month. Punches, slaps, throws and kicks were delivered every now and then, and it got worse each time.

"You little whore!” He yelled and kicked your stomach several times. You curled up in a ball and wrapped your arms around your legs.

 "PLEASE!“ You cried and covered your head.

 "What was that? You want more, don’t you?” He hissed and started to throw punches at your stomach and your sides. You let out a small shriek to let out the pain somehow.

“Shut up!!” He yelled and kicked you hard.

Suddenly the door opened. 

“What the— Y/N! GET OFF HER!!” You heard a voice yell. 

Shawn.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the huge asshole.” Your boyfriend said and clenched his fists while looking at Shawn. Shawn took off and rushed towards you.

Your boyfriend stood up and punched him across the face as soon as he was in reach, but Shawn refused to back down this time.

Every time Y/BF/N threw a punch he would bend down and your boyfriend did the same. You were really scared. Of your boyfriend hurting Shawn. Of your boyfriend knocking him out so he would take his rage out on yuo in the bedroom. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you watches as Shawn took a good beating across his perfect face.

 Only a couple seconds later Y/BF/N and Shawn stood chest to chest and glared at each other with hateful eyes and bruised faces and knuckles.

“Y/N, go outside to Luke.” Shawn mumbled without breaking eye-contact with
Y/BF/N. 

“She’s going nowhere.” He said and glared at Shawn with dark eyes. You did as Shawn said and crawled towards the door.

“Y/N, take another step and I will kill you and your new boy-toy!” Y/BF/N yelled and tried to grab you. As a reflex you backed away and stopped, but Shawn pushed him away. 

“OUT Y/N! NOW!” He yelled and struggled against your boyfriend.

You quickly went out the door.




 "Y/N? What happen?“ A concerned Luke asked and rushed to you. 

"He-he— I— Just…” You tried to speak, but no words could leave your mouth. Shawn was still inside that house with an abusive man and here you were, scared to death without being able to do anything.  

"It’s okay.” He interrupted and hugged you tight.

“L-Luke, you’ve got to call the cops…” You mumbled into his chest as he held you closer. “Of course.” And so he took out his phone and dialed the number.


A few minutes the cops arrived to your house and barged inside the house. You had to answer some questions about your boyfriends behavior, butyou couldn’t focus. All you could think about was Shawn.

“I will kill you!” A loud voice echoed which made you look up and see two cops escorting your boyfriend out the house while he yelled towards Shawn who Shawn came out the door with a blue cheek and bloody lip. 

“Shawn!” You yelled and began running towards him. When you were a few feet away you threw yourself into his arms and hugged him which made him let out a groan.

 "What were you thinking? He could hav—“ 

"I couldn’t let him hurt you.” He said and kissed your forehead as a tear rolled down your cheek. For the first time in forever you felt safe, and for the first time ever you understood that Shawn could treat you better than your boyfriend ever could.

“You’re safe now, princess.”



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