do you want the truth or something else

unusual ask game
  • (These questions were created by a psychologist at Stony Brook University. They are designed as a recipe for falling in love.)
  • 1: Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?
  • 2: Would you like to be famous? In what way?
  • 3: Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?
  • 4: What would constitute a “perfect” day for you?
  • 5: When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?
  • 6: If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?
  • 7: Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?
  • 8: For what in your life do you feel most grateful?
  • 9: If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?
  • 10: If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?
  • 11: If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?
  • 12: Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?
  • 13: What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?
  • 14: What do you value most in a friendship?
  • 15: What is your most treasured memory?
  • 16: What is your most terrible memory?
  • 17: If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?
  • 18: How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?

February 5, 2017

There’s something wrong with this place. They say that individuality is something we should embrace, but they want everyone to wear the same clothes and buy the same phones. They want the parts of us that makes us unique, it’s okay as long as everyone else is doing it, right? They say that freedom of speech is something needed, but we’re a little scared to speak our thoughts– is anyone truly listening to the youth? They say that it’s our fault because we’re young, there’s too much information for the brain to filter– somewhere around the lines of being born into this mess and being blind to the truth, we have lost our way as a species. They don’t build them like they used to. So before you blame it on the youth, remember who raised us. So before you make another mistake, remember that we must act together. We can laugh at the president all we want, but remember who put him there. So before you blame someone else, point the finger at yourself. So before you get some sleep tonight, pray a little longer than usual because it’s going to be a long time before everyone returns to just being okay. It’s going to be more than a few years of (subtle) fuckery.

Owl post

So you know how owls don’t need an address to find the person the letter is addressed to? What if these owls were even cleverer than that?

Imagine Draco, sometime after the war, sitting alone in his flat and not knowing what to do with himself. He feels so empty, but on the other hand, there’s so much he wants to say. But who should he talk to? There’s nobody there. So he just begins writing his thoughts down. Sometimes it’s little poems. Sometimes it’s like he’s writing a journal. And sometimes he writes letters, addressed to no one. He keeps writing every day and whenever he’s finished, he puts the piece of parchment onto the little pile on his desk, where he keeps all his personal writing.

If Draco had been paying more attention, he would have noticed that this pile wasn’t getting any bigger. It stays exactly the same, because his sneaky little owl delivers one per day to the person she thought could help Draco the most.

When she lands on her usual windowsill on Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the window is already open and Harry is smiling at her with a treat in his hand.

“You’re very punctual,” he murmurs as he strokes her feathers. He carefully takes the piece of parchment out of her beak and smiles as she starts nibbling at her treat. Harry suspects Malfoy still doesn’t know that his owl is bringing him these letters.

Harry had been puzzled himself at first, but it hadn’t taken him long to figure out who had written these. After that, he had tried to talk to the owl, tried to explain to her that she must have gotten the wrong address, because surely this wasn’t meant for him.

But the owl had come back every day, bringing Harry another piece of parchment and Harry had found himself mesmerized by them. The poems were heart-wrenching, Malfoy talking about his day made Harry want to go over there and talk to him. But he doesn’t dare. He would have to admit, he read Malfoy’s most inner thoughts without his consent. And Harry doubts, the Malfoy he would be facing would be the same as the Malfoy in these letters.

Sighing, Harry settles down on the couch and begins to read today’s owl post.

I had a dream last night. It wasn’t one of my usual nightmares, but I guess you could still call it that, because this will very likely haunt me for the rest of my days. It was about him. We were younger, much younger. We were on the Quidditch pitch, but not as enemies. We were just flying together, laughing together. It was so strange to see him like this. His eyes didn’t hold the resentment I am used to. He was looking at me like I was his whole world. It still hurts to think about it now. The worst part, however, was the way he cupped my cheeks and smiled at me, right before he kissed me. I could still feel his lips on mine when I woke up. I wasn’t even sure if I had been dreaming or not for a second. Then, reality crashed down on me again. Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if he knew. If he had known back then. I’m not sure if it would have made a difference. All he ever did was hate me, just as much as I pretended to hate him. I regret he never saw the truth. All I ever wanted was him. And for one night, my mind granted me that wish. However, I hope it doesn’t happen again. Only if my mind decides to let me dream forever.

Harry feels dizzy when he puts the letter down. It’s true, he never saw the truth, never even knew there was a truth to be seen. He had never thought to look beyond their fighting and mutual obsession. Never thought it could mean something else entirely.

But over the past few weeks, he discovered a whole different side of Malfoy and thereby discovered something about himself. He wants to take Malfoy’s pain away. Maybe he’s been wanting to do that for a while. And now, Harry knows he can.

He jumps up from the couch and locks eyes with the owl, still sitting on the windowsill.

“You clever little thing,” he whispers to her, as he strokes her feathers one more time. She hoots happily, as if encouraging Harry to hurry up. So he does. He hurries out the door, to apparate to Malfoy’s flat. He has no idea how he will do it and how long it will take Malfoy to believe Harry’s intentions are genuine, but it doesn’t matter.

He will do everything he can to make Draco Malfoy’s dreams come true.


Part 2

princebishi  asked:

I dunno, it's 2:30am here and maybe this is a bad idea but I can't sleep so hell I'll send a message. Hi Wil Wheaton, what's a depressed guy to do when he needs to apply to jobs but is scared that he can't handle the rejections that will happen, or the inevitable chipping away of his self esteem, that is only made worse by being trans and not passing very well. (I know you can't help with that last part, but again, it's 2:30am, and my brain is not working very well.)

I can’t help you with that last part, but I want you to know that I see you and I love you for who you are. My friend, Robyn, is the co-founder of mytranshealth, and maybe that’s a good starting point to connect with a support network? I’m so sorry if it’s massively inappropriate for me to suggest that. 

But the first part? Maybe I can help a little bit? Being rejected sucks, and it hurts. In my life and work (I’ve tried and not always succeeded to separate the two) I’ve worked very hard to remind myself that it’s never personal when I don’t get a job. It sure feels like it, though, and getting up to try again after I’ve been rejected is always hard.

In The Nerdist Way, Hardwick tells us that our brains try to protect us, and they try to stop us from taking chances because if we don’t take the chance, we can’t be disappointed or hurt. Our brains are trying to do us a kindness, but they actually aren’t helping, so we have to make the deliberate choice to tell our brains to back off and take care of other stuff.

That is so much easier said than done, but the only way we can get used to it is by practicing it.

Also, 2:30 in the morning is one of those parts of the day when everything feels much worse or much better than it actually is. I’ve reblogged a thing here a few times that reminds us to go for a walk, to get into a change of clothes, to eat a good meal, to do things that we maybe aren’t doing, because doing those things breaks the cycle of depression. You can’t do that at 2:30 in the morning, really, but if you feel like you’re not going to go to sleep anyway, maybe take a nice hot shower? Make a cup of tea and sit down with a book you like, or an episode of a show that you like? I’ve been listening to audiobooks on Spotify when I need my brain to fuck off and let me sleep. I’ve heard the first chapter of The Metamorphosis for like five days in a row, and that guy’s voice is great at soothing me to sleep. The recordings come from LibreVox, so maybe you can find something there?

I feel like I’m not being as helpful as I’d like to be. I want to reveal a great secret that makes it all so much easier, but the truth is that everything worth doing is hard, and You from the Future will be so grateful to You From Now because You From Now faced the fear and accepted the challenge of risking the rejection so you could find employment for Future You.

I really hope some of this helps. Maybe someone else on Tumblr has better words of comfort or wisdom to share? I’d love it if you’d check in with me, and let me know how you’re doing, whenever you’re ready.

“jews don’t want us to call hux a nazi.”

I see a surprising amount of goyim (gentiles, non-Jewish people) saying this, and I don’t know who they’ve spoken to, but here are my thoughts.

It is absolutely okay for Jews to feel uncomfortable saying Hux is a Nazi. Nazis in real life are dangerous and harmful, and some feel it might be trivializing the word to use it on fictional characters who merely mirror Nazis. 

This is why we call Hux a ‘Nazi parallel.’ Hux is meant to evoke Nazi imagery and ideas, and that’s a fact that is true regardless of comfort level with the terms “Nazi” or “Space Nazi” or whatever else.

Personally, I used to be very uncomfortable with just calling Hux a Nazi. I was also worried about trivializing the word, and I still think people with that concern have a legitimate point.

However, I’ve seen people twist the words I said way back when we were talking about this issue to say that Jews just can’t stand us saying Hux is a Nazi– He’s just a fascist! He’s just your average villain! He’s just a child who was abused and deserves pity (?!?).

That’s why I now just call Hux a Nazi outright. I don’t mind if people are uncomfortable with that or like to call him something else– I’d definitely recommend gentiles say “Nazi parallel” over “Space Nazi”, especially if they’re uncomfortable with just calling him a Nazi.

Hux is a Nazi parallel. This is the truth, and this is not what is going to hurt Jews. You do not have to use the word “Nazi” on its own if you would rather not, and you don’t have to use that word anywhere near Hux if you don’t want to– but you have to acknowledge reality.

Please stop responding to criticisms of fandom’s anti-Semitism and increasing ability to humanize/romanticize Nazi parallels with “but Jews don’t want us to call him a Nazi!”

Yes, some Jews don’t want you to call Hux a Nazi. Those Jews have a great point and I have no problem with that. But Hux is still a Nazi parallel, and no amount of semantics discourse is going to change that.


I highly recommend reblogging this post if you’re in the SW fandom, Jewish or gentile. It’s very important to any discussion of Hux’s character, and I’m tired of the same old excuses getting in the way.

Hatred

Request: You and Jughead don’t like each other and trade insults all the time, until one day you’re thrown together and start making out furiously.

Requested by: anonymous

Part 2: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157709938523/hatred-part-2

Part 3: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157992846283/hatred-part-3

Masterlist: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157919516668/masterlist

You were sandwiched between Betty and the wall in a booth at Pop’s. You frowned across the table at Jughead, who had a similarly unamused look upon his face. You were trying to be civil with him, but he kept insisting upon glaring at you instead of just leaving you alone.

It was Betty’s birthday and she had invited you, Veronica, Archie, and Jughead to have dinner at Pop’s before her party. Betty was one of your best friends, so of course you said yes, but the meal turned sour when you ended up stuck across from Jughead. Betty and Veronica were chatting away, with Archie chiming in from time to time. You were trying to focus on your food.

Pop walked over to the booth carrying a large strawberry milkshake with extra whipped cream on top. He placed it in front of Betty before stating with a jolly laugh, “On the house, Betty. Happy Birthday!” Everyone at the table, including Pop, burst into the Happy Birthday song. You joined in, glad to be celebrating Betty instead of focusing on Jughead.

“Would any of you kids like a milkshake?” Pop asked after the song was over. Archie and Veronica both ordered before Pop turned to you.

“I’d like a chocolate milkshake.” You said politely.

“I’ll take a chocolate milkshake as well.” Jughead said.

“Coming right up kids.” Pop smiled before walking to the back.

A few minutes later, Pop came back carrying three milkshakes. He was scowling. “I’m sorry kids, we only had enough chocolate ice cream left for one milkshake.” He placed it in the middle of the table between you and Jughead.

“That’s okay, Pop. We’ll figure it out.” You said politely. As soon as he was gone, your eyes shot towards Jughead. He had already grabbed the milkshake.

“That’s my milkshake.” You said, unamused.

“I got to it first.” He shrugged, dipping his straw into the drink.

“And I ordered first, so it’s my milkshake.”

“That’s too bad.” He said mockingly, before taking a sip. You really wished you had laser vision.

“Jughead, don’t be childish. Share it.” Betty told him. That was Betty, always trying to remedy the situation between you and Jughead.

He rolled his eyes, before sliding it across the table. You smirked at him before scooping out some ice cream. “You know what? I don’t want it anymore.” He said dryly.

You looked at him incredulously. Was he really that childish? “Whatever, more for me.”

AT THE PARTY

Thank god you were at a party. They really weren’t Jughead’s scene, so you never had to see him. You were enjoying yourself, talking and laughing with Veronica and Archie.

By 9 pm, a raging game of spin the bottle truth or dare was in full swing. Someone would spin the bottle and whoever it landed on would be asked to pick truth or dare. It was Veronica’s turn to spin.

As the bottle spun around, you couldn’t help but hope it wouldn’t land on you. You didn’t want to do anything wild and become the girl who made out with some loser or something. Unfortunately, the bottle slowed and stopped just as it pointed to you.


You sighed. You had to pick dare. Everyone else had chosen it and you didn’t want to be the only one who chickened out. “What kind of dare you got for me, Ronnie?”

She sat there for a few seconds, thinking. Archie leaned over and whispered something in her ear and her eyes lit up. “That’s good!” She turned to you. “I dare you to experience seven minutes in heaven with…” She looked around the room, before her eyes landed on the last person you ever wanted to be locked in a closet with. “Jughead.”

He was leaning against the wall in the corner of the room, watching the game silently. When you glanced over at him, he was scowling. And so were you. “Really, Ronnie? Of all the people…” you were irritated. Why did they have to do this to you?

“You have to, [Y/N].” She stood up, grabbing your hand and pulling you up with her. She led you to the closet, before opening the door and gesturing for you to enter. You looked over at Betty, hoping she would stop this, but she only mouthed ‘sorry.’ You rolled your eyes, but entered the small room.

“No way.” Jughead didn’t move from his spot in the corner.

“Archie, a little help?” Veronica asked.

Archie jumped up, and walked over to Jughead. He was much stronger than Jughead, so it was easy for him to push Jughead towards the closet. With a final shove, Jughead fell into the closet. Unfortunately, he fell on top of you just after Veronica slammed the door shut.

He knocked you over, and you knocked over a couple of board games that were on the shelves behind you.

“Keep It down you two!” Someone yelled from outside, causing everyone else to laugh.

You rolled your eyes. This was so mature.

Jughead quickly found his footing and took a step towards the corner of the closet, not bothering to help you up.

“Thanks for the help.” You said sarcastically, getting up and picking up the board games that had fallen.

“Thanks for getting us into this situation.” He said, annoyed.

“Oh, I got us into this situation?” You turned towards him, growing irritated.

“Yeah, if you weren’t so rude to me all the time, they wouldn’t have forced us into this closet.”

“Oh, I’m the rude one? Okay.” Your sarcasm grew stronger with every sentence.

“Or if you just hadn’t picked dare like a dumbass.” He continued grilling you.

“And what else was I supposed to pick? Everyone was picking dare.” You took a step closer to him, so you could get in his face. You weren’t going to take his crap.

“You need to stop worrying so much about what everyone else is doing.” He took a step closer to you, so you were right in each other’s faces.

“Oh yeah, like I should be taking advice from-“ Before you could finish your sentence, he leaned closer to you, pressing his lips into yours.

You were caught by surprise, and tried to lean out of it, but his lips felt so warm on yours that you couldn’t. His kiss was full of anger and he leaned into it, pushing you against the wall. You didn’t understand it or why it was happening, but it felt too good to break. You wrapped your arms around his neck, digging your hands into the hair underneath his beanie and bringing him closer to you.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, he took a step back. His eyes burned into yours, intense and full of desire. You couldn’t help but breath hard after that intense make out session. You still had three minutes left in heaven and you sure as hell weren’t going to let it slip away.

You roughly grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to you, locking lips again. You could tell he was surprised you wanted more, as his kiss was sloppy. You didn’t care. His lips just felt so good against yours.

He pulled away again, this time backing away from you until his back was against the opposite wall. “You’ve got about 30 seconds before someone’s going to come crashing through that door.” He said quietly, straightening the beanie on top of his hair.

“So are we going to talk about that?” You asked as you flattened your frizzed hair and straightened your shirt.

Jughead watched you intensely with the same hungry look in his eyes. You could tell he was resisting. He shook his head slowly. “It’s probably better if we don’t.”

Before you could utter another word, the door flew open and in marched Veronica. “Nice to see you could get along for a few minutes.” She laughed, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the closet. You glanced over at Jughead as you were leaving, but he was staring at the wall where you had just stood.

Everything was confusing you. Why did he do that? Why did you like it so much? Did you no longer hate Jughead? Everything he did was so annoying, and yet you loved the way his lips felt against yours. You were hungry for more and you knew he was, too. The only question left was: How could you see him again?

Truth Through The Lies

Come on guys! Why do you keep doing this to yourselves? Every time something new comes out, some in this fandom forget everything else we’ve learned, and have a full fledged freak out. I honestly don’t think the situation is as bad as the narrative leads us to believe.

I have avoided saying this, because it sounds awful, but it’s the truth, so I’m going to say it…The Entertainment Industry, as a whole, but especially the Music Industry turns their artists into professional liars. The Artists don’t lie to us because they want to, they do it because they have to.

Here’s the honest truth. In the Music Industry, the only thing that’s important, even more important than the music, is the narrative and Image of the Artist. The Industry has proven time and time again, that talent isn’t everything. There have been plenty of money made by artists, that in all honesty, couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Yet, they become successful money makers, because of the Image and the narrative sold to the public.

Keep reading

One Double 0

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4,402

Summary: Bucky Barnes recieves a birthday gift no one else can top. 

Warning: none, really. a little bit of emotions everywhere, other than that some fluff. 

A/N: It’s Bucky’s 100th birthday! Can you guys believe it?. I have always wanted to write this one, and it fit perfectly for his birthday. Hope you guys enjoy, feedback is as always greatly appreciated! <3


 When you had first decided to become a nurse it had been because your mother was one and because her mother before her had been one and you had always adored the work they did. You had known since you could walk and talk that it was the profession you would want to pursue, and even after you graduated and began working as a nurse, you didn’t once regret the decision at all.

It wasn’t just that it made your family proud, after all, all their three children were highly educated, no it was the possibility of meeting and helping new people each and every day that made you love your job to the core.

Sure there would be rude and very hateful patients, but no job was perfect and neither would yours be just because you loved it.

For the past month, you had been working at a unit for elderly patients. It wasn’t a nursing home, but there were a few patients who was taken care of almost like they would at a nursing home, but this unit was a tad more luxurious than a normal one.

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picklestickle01  asked:

I'm sure you've already come up with a perfectly valid explanation, but if insulting and hurting people's feelings actually increase LV, then why isn't that in the actual game? Surely LV would increase even if you do a True Pacifist route but be an absolute jerk. I. E. Threatening Froggits, being rude to SnowDrake, letting Monster Kid FALL TO HIS DEATH. Also greetings from America!

You can be a jerk, lier, coward even in a pacifist route. But all these are VERY DIFFERENT, from doing something WITH the sole intention to hurt someone else.

Not only for being a jerk, not only for saying the hurtful truth, but because you wanted to damage someone.

It can be the intent to kill, your capacity to hurt. Both increases your LV. Killing does it faster, sure. But the game never mentioned it was the ONLY way.

The game defined LOVE as a measurement of someone’s “capacity to hurt”. Sure the only option we are presented is killing, but Frisk can chose by themselves now.

2

There are only 24 hours in a day, basically, and in the moments where I’ve got a little quiet time I work on music sometimes and do the things I want to do. But the truth is you need something else to balance out when you’re an actor. When you delve into characters deeply it can be a little bit mind boggling. I play very extreme characters and you can only do so much of that without going nuts. I tend to use my music and other things to alleviate that and to counterbalance that.

Narnia Preference: How He Tries to Impress You

@luzthenarnian I’m sooooo sorry for how long this has taken. I got engaged, and everything went kinda crazy and awesome, but has kept me off tumblr. 

This is my first preference, so I’ll put the disclaimer that I don’t really know what I’m doing. Butttttt here goes!

Edmund:

•He’d be less than forward at first

•But he observes everything okay, so he starts mentally noting all the little things about you

•Your first conversation is probably over books

•the next day he hands you a book

•"I think you’d like this one.“

•And you find tiny pieces of paper with his thoughts on certain sections throughout the book.

•Then he stays up late with you discussing the book after you’ve finished it, and it’s in one of these late night sessions that he first decides to kiss you, with surprising fervor

•When he’s around others, he’ll sometimes speak up more than usual to maybe get you to notice

•He LISTENS. Like no one’s business. He remembers details of things you told him and will bring them up when he can just to let you know he cares

Caspian:

•He’s got a natural way with words, so he compliments you warmly and often

•Anything from "The way your hair falls is absolutely lovely,” to “The more I know you, the more I see just how bright your very being is.”

•He enjoys teaching you things, patiently watching you grow in whatever skill.

•And he lets you know he enjoys learning from you. He’s humble, and you’ll find you’d never run into ego, just eagerness to learn from you how to do something you’re passionate about.

•He'a passionate man, and he really isn’t afraid to show you it, although he allows his passion to manifest itself calmly.

•Think slow, hot neck kisses

•Or just sappy gestures of affection

•You wake up to your favorite flower by your bed

Peter

•Okay so Peter doesn’t possess a subtle bone in his body, so his affection for you is never something you or anyone else has any question about

•He’s really attentive to you and is frequently asking how you’re doing, really wanting the truth

•"Actually, Peter, everything isn’t okay right now.“ And his eyes instantly soften and he just melts, pulling you into his chest, hugging you hard

•He’ll be super protective of you: this isn’t to impress you, it’s just who he is

•He’s quite the gentleman, opening doors, etc.

•It’s to the point you kinda have to hint you want to be kissed by him at first

•But once he knows your desires and comfort levels, you’ll find yourself being pulled into numerous nooks, being kissed breathless

•You really wonder how kisses can be so sweet and sinful all at one moment

12x19 Deconstruction: Part II - The Mixtape Exchange


(A MIXTAPE, GUYS. A GODDAMN MIXTAPE!)

So, yeah, there really wasn’t anything else I could possibly call this piece of dialogue, was there? Nope. Let’s set the scene:

Dean is at his computer. There’s a knock on the door. Cas opens it, pauses, and what we learn from this, by the way, is that Cas was waiting for a response and when he didn’t get one he proceeded inside, thinking Dean wasn’t there. What does this visual exposition tell us?

a) Dean’s bedroom is not off limits to Cas if Dean’s not there, because there’s trust
b) Cas didn’t come to the room looking for Dean

The reason Cas goes to Dean’s room is to get the Colt - the mixtape is just his excuse. So, then, what an utterly beautiful tool of exposition this innocent piece of prop becomes, and how incredibly well it’s used to highlight exactly what the problem has always been in this relationship: the lack of fucking communication. In fact, not only does the mixtape highlight the lack of communication, it goes further as it turns that problem on it’s head completely when, suddenly, both of these men open up to each other. And the fact that Cas is there on a mission, that he’s effectively playing Dean, doesn’t take away from all the truth that is in this exchange as well. Not that there’s complete honesty. Not just yet, but it’s coming. Oh, it’s absolutely on the horizon. It has to be. And this exchange is, as so many others, riddled with subtext which makes the interpretation of it layered to the extreme, but what I have on offer today is my take. So, here goes:

Keep reading

You saw me when I was invisible—not just to the world, but even to myself.

There was something you recognized beneath the layers of hurt and false identities I had become lost in that called to you. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know who I was at the time, because somehow by seeing myself through your eyes I was able to awaken to the woman I was all along.

You made me smile from my soul for the first time, not because you expected anything in return from me, but simply because that was what came naturally for you. And it was in that moment I began to fall.

Although looking back, I now realize that even then I had no idea how long it would be until I arrived in a place where any of this meant anything.

In the beginning, we were chaos and fire.

We rubbed each other’s corners and seemed to trigger one another; it was almost as if what we were was all that was meant to be.

Yet, even then something tugged on my heart.

There was a reason that I never truly said goodbye to you, and now I can see why you came into my life in the first place.

When we find someone who, even as unlikely as it seems, is a part of us, then there isn’t any way to really leave them behind.

You burned me. You set fire to the life that I had become comfortable with. You held up a mirror and it hurt me to see what reflected back.

There was nothing about your presence that would let me stay sleeping in this life.

But, we played too many games for our own good. We danced in and out of intimacy and friendship, yet all along we were growing toward this and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t seen it coming.

You saw me; and perhaps the most bittersweet truth is that somehow I saw you before you even saw yourself.

And when we kissed that first time, I think I forgot my own name.

You touched me like I ached for someone to, and even when it wasn’t all I wanted, somehow it still ended up being enough.

I was okay with that. I was okay with your walls and I was satisfied knowing that what could grow between us might never actually be able to flower.

I accepted that because I only ever accepted you for who you were.

But things change, as they often do, and we both ended up finding our way back to a place we never thought we’d visit again. Yet we were different people this time. We had learned more and perhaps we had finally realized who we were.

The walls fell down, and what I saw on the other side was everything I could have ever wanted—but didn’t know existed.

And still, I let us dance, meander and even play with what was between us all the while we were only pretending that it was nothing special.

I was no longer scared of losing you because I figured that if you were still here in my life, then it was because of a reason that maybe I just wasn’t privy to yet, and so gradually and slowly I began to show you who I really am.

I did it in pieces and bits, all the while my heart racing, wondering if it would prove to be too much.

But it never was, the only thing that happened is that with each word, each conversation, I began to forget about anyone else that wasn’t you.

Through rambling midnight conversations about life and God, I suddenly realized that this was what I had needed all along, but I just never expected that not only could someone understand the inner workings of my mind, but that they would also be able to meet me there.

But you did, and it wasn’t because of the way you kissed me breathless that I began to love you, but because of the man that I saw when you simply became yourself.

The more you revealed, the more I wanted.

Even now, it’s a painful reality that hits me, bringing tears to my eyes—the belief that I could probably sit with you each evening, and never tire of hearing how you see the world.

It’s a knowing that no one else will ever be you.

At some point through our fantasies and passion, something changed, and although neither of us ever said anything about it, somewhere in between it all you had begun to make love to me.

It broke open my heart and crashed down any remaining reasons why in the end of all of this it shouldn’t be you. The reality is that even though the words of love have never passed your lips, no other man has ever made me feel more loved than you.

It’s interesting how that can occur, and maybe there’s a truth to what we feel rather than what we hear.

But in the end, you left.

Not really though, but just enough for me to feel your absence. Just enough for me to feel a pull on my soul when you’re not next to me, because whether I wanted it to feel that way or not, something about you being here with me always left me feeling more complete.

More whole.

And now I don’t know what to do, because the reality is you’ve ruined me for anyone else.

If another man doesn’t talk about the universe, or kiss me like it comes as naturally as breathing, I’ll always think of you.

If he doesn’t make fun of me and the way I talk too much, or don’t wear shoes, I’ll always hear your voice doing just that.

And if he doesn’t ever truly see me, then I know that in the back of my mind I’ll always see you.

You are the one man who saw me when I was invisible and now the truth is you have simply ruined me for anyone else.

“What we want is someone to be naked with, not only in body but in soul.” ~ J. Iron Word

—  Kate Rose
Stood Up

As it has been requested repeatedly, I have decided to make a part two to Stood Up. This story got way more love then I thought it would receive and is one of my highest loved imagines so far! So thank you!. I wasn’t originally planning on uploading this today, but as it is my birthday tomorrow (February 17th) and I will be busy, I thought I would just post it instead of making you all wait another two days. So here you go!

Request: Archie/jughead: 14)“I promise that i’ll protect you". -Archie 17) “You cheated on me! What was I suppose to do? Smile and forgive you.” - y/n31)“Never thought that all this would happen because of one tiny moment.”-y/a18) “I think you’re worth much more than that.”- jughead 4)“You don’t get to touch her! Not anymore. Not after what you did!”-jughead

REMEMBER, requests are closed! New requests will be deleted.

Requested by: anonymous.

Warnings: hurt/comfort.


Originally posted by noahsweetwne

“Y/N… I’m not sure how to tell you this… but-”

You turned, confused as you stared at the concerned looking Jughead. After your guys ‘date’ you’d started to hang out with him a bit more and eventually you guys had blossomed into an amazing friendship. Though, what Jughead had said that night was right, and after Archie apologized you’d accepted it and everything fell back to the way it was.

Only thing was now you had Jughead as a friend, a pretty great one at that. He hadn’t been happy when you told him you’d forgiven Archie, but he’d accepted it and told you to just be careful. 

Nothing had happened since. School started again and a new girl came in, Veronica Lodge, which had in turn allowed her to start hanging out with Archie, you, Betty and Kevin. She was nice enough and even though she had immediately mentioned her interest in Archie, you’d set her straight after telling her you two were actually dating. It didn’t take long for her to start rooting for you two, and was in turn one of the sweetest girls you’d met.

When you weren’t with her and Betty, you were with Archie and if you weren’t with Archie, you were with Jughead. 

It just happened to be one of those times where you were with Jughead, you two were sat in Pop’s, much like your guys date night. You were helping him with his novel that you were so specially the only one allowed to see. But you could tell easily something was on his mind and he was distracted from his writing. You hadn’t said anything, wanting to wait for him to tell you on his own.

“Yes, Juggie?” You answered, regarding him with careful eyes. He pursed his lips, shaking his head as he sighed in frustration. “Is everything okay?”

“Y/N… it’s about Archie…” 

You sighed, slightly expecting him to tell you again that you shouldn’t have forgiven him. But just by the look on his face you knew it was something else, and suddenly all annoyance left you and instead you became worried. Worried at the truth. “Jughead… what is it? What did he do? Is he okay?”

“He’s okay.” Jughead quickly confirmed, almost in anger. “He… oh god, Y/N. I really am sorry, but Archie’s been cheating on you.”

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard his words correctly. Archie had done a lot of things recently, terrible things but despite everything you’d never been suspicious of him for that. You couldn’t quite believe Jughead, so you scoffed, glaring slightly, but you could feel your eyes watering. “What are you- what are you going on about, Jughead? You’re joking right? With who?” The words slipped past your lips, no filter as you stared.

You tried to ignore the look on Jughead’s face that only helped make your heart beat faster. “Ms. Grundy.” Jughead whispered and you froze. 

“What?”

“He’s cheating on you with Ms. Grundy.”

Your jaw fell open and without a thought, you pushed out of your seat and stormed out of Pop’s, slamming the door behind you. You didn’t want to believe Jughead. You couldn’t but something in the back of your head told you that he was telling the truth. Who had stood you up that night? Archie. Who had been there for you that night? Jughead. What reason would he have to lie to you?

“Y/N!” You heard Jughead but you ignored him, dead set on making your way.. where were you going? Archie’s. You needed to talk to him. 

“Y/N! Please stop!” A hand grabbed your forearm, effectively stopping you and turning you around. You didn’t fight, coming face to face with Jughead as you tried to hold in your tears. You stared at him, hurt and betrayed.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his voice soft.

“Archie’s. I need to talk to him.” You mumbled, trying to keep your voice calm. “Please, let me go. I need- I need to talk to him.”

“I’m not going to stop you.” Jughead reassured, now grabbing both sides of your arms. You barely thought of the fact that Jughead hated skin contact. “I’m going with you.”

You nodded, too upset to say anything and shortly you found yourself in front of Archie’s house. The lights were off, but you knew Archie and you knew he liked to go out for late night walks, so you sat on his porch, waiting. Jughead sat beside you, close enough for comfort but not touching. You’d stopped crying but you knew it’d only last a few minutes before Archie’d show up.

“Y/N…? Jughead?” Snapping your head up, you swallowed your fear at the sight of a sweaty and panting Archie. Standing up and not missing the way Jughead fell in step beside you, standing slightly behind you.

“What are you two doing here?” Archie asked, confused and concern lacing his voice.

“I-I…” You tried but fell short, feeling tears coming back. Immediately Archie took a step forward, concerned but Jughead stood in front of you. Glaring at Archie. Archie blinked, confused.

“What’s wrong? Y/N? Tell me, I promise that i’ll protect you" You scoffed, suddenly angry as you carefully stepped in front of Jughead. He regarded you with a concerned look but all you did was nod, reassuring him.

Archie stared desperately at you. 

“Archie… we’re through.” You said, confidence in your voice as you tried to hold down your tears. Archie’s shoulders slumped and his mouth opened and closed repeatedly. 

“Wha- why?”

“Archie.. I know you cheated on me.” You confessed, laughing bitterly at yourself. “Hell, maybe you still are. But we are through. I am tired of the lies, the cancelling, i’m tired of the sneaking. I tried. I tried to be understanding. I even forgave you when you stood me up! But not anymore!” Archie’s surprised and guilty face fell on Jughead, almost angrily before turning to you with soft eyes. 

“Y-Y/N… I’m-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” You interrupted, staring at Archie clearly upset. You wiped pathetically at your tears. “With Ms. Grundy? Really, Archie? You’re… that’s so wrong. It doesn’t matter though, you’re none of my business anymore.” 

You went to step around Archie, but his hand shot out to grab you, a little too aggressively. You gasped, before another hand shot out and pushed Archie back. You easily recognized the figure as Jughead. “You cheated on me! What was I suppose to do? Smile and forgive you.” 

Archie dropped his hands, taking a respect step back and you let out a breath you hadn’t know you’d been holding. Huffing. Jughead turned to you, allowing you to walk in front of him as he glared at Archie. Archie looked as if he was about to cry and you almost felt yourself breaking but you shook your head.

“I am sorry. Y/N.” You stopped, your back facing Archie as you whispered;  “You cheated on me! What was I suppose to do? Smile and forgive you.”


Later, you found yourself sobbing against Jughead’s chest as he hugged you. You sniffled, wiping your tears as you pushed from the hug, staring at the tear stains on his jacket in shame. “I’m sorry…” You whispered ashamed.

Jughead shook his head, hesitantly letting his hand fall on your cheek so you were looking at him. “I’m pathetic.” You mumbled, shaking your head.

“I think you’re worth much more than that.” Jughead whispered. You stared up into his eyes, finding an emotion you’d never seen there before. And then suddenly his lips fell on yours and you were leaning against him as he pressed against you. You moaned into the kiss, allowing your hands to fall on his neck as he held your face.

When you pulled away, you were panting but smiling shyly up at Jughead who smirked back. “Never thought that all this would happen because of one tiny moment.”


There ya guys go! Part 3?

Bellamy Blake Imagine: Too Stubborn

Requested

Prompt: 26-”Come over here and make me.”,
12-”Quit it or I’ll bite.”

Summary: Bellamy and reader have feelings for each other, but are too stubborn to admit it so they instead keep pissing each other. However Octavia and Clarke wouldn’t just let it go and send them on a mission hoping it would force them to admit what they feel for each other.

Word count: 2020


Originally posted by dailyskypeople

Y/N’s POV

“Put it down before you hurt yourself,” I rolled my eyes at the sound of Bellamy’s voice in which I could practically hear him smirking.

“Shut up before I hurt you,” I retorted not bothering to look at him because I knew exactly what I would find, him standing there with folded arms and amused look on his face.

Keep reading

I love that kind of old-fashioned relationships. By this I mean real dates, not just to hang out. I want to go out with you for dinner, no matter if it is an expensive restaurant or that tiny cheap bar next street. I want an atmosphere where both of us can truly open up. I want all of your attention and no phone or texting friends I have to compete with. I want you to look me in the eyes when we are talking. I want to have deep conversations with you about serious and complex topics, and in the next moment I want to make you laugh with a stupid and absurd joke. 
I do not need to take a dozen pictures with you that I can share on Instagram. I do not need to change my relationship status on Facebook as soon as we kissed. Because my love is only meant for you, your heart and your eyes. Because it is something that I do not share with anyone else but you.
Truth or Dare

howdy. I don’t really know what to say, as I know most likely nobody will be reading. BUT! that’s okay because writing makes me happy and spencer makes me happy so therefore it’s okay. I didn’t really expect to drag this out for so long, but it just kinda happened so pls don’t get too bored. thank u for coming to my ted talk.


Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Summary: The team goes out for a night of drinks and laughter after a tough case that affected everyone. A very drunk Garcia suggests playing truth or dare.

Warnings: None that I can think of
You felt a weight slowly being lifted off of your shoulders as you sipped your wine, watching your teammates laugh at crappy jokes they’d tell each other. It was quite obvious that your team members were drunk on this warm Saturday evening, but seeing them with glowing cheeks and bright, goofy smiles smothered on their faces made the hangover they’d all have the next day worth it. You were only on your second glass of wine, so there wasn’t much fuzziness in your head. You, Hotch, and Spencer were the only people who didn’t seem drunk out of your senses. Hotch had hardly touched his bottle of beer, and Spencer had a glass of whiskey that he hadn’t drank from once. But on the other hand, Emily, Garcia, JJ, Morgan, and Rossi were all woozy from their multitude of drinks. You were pretty sure Garcia was going to need to get her stomach pumped, considering she was on her sixth margarita and had downed three shots.

“I think we should play a good ‘ole game of Truth or Dare,” Garcia slurred loudly, holding her index finger in the air as if she was speaking to a crowd. She could’ve been, with how much noise your team’s table had been making. You were pretty sure half the bar hated you guys at that point.

“I agree,” Morgan added, the stench of vodka reeking from his breath. You could smell him from across the table; you had to feel bad for poor Hotch and Rossi, who were sitting closest to him. Spencer and JJ sat on either side of you, you and Spencer sharing discreet looks throughout the night. They weren’t looks of trying to sneakily glance at each other, but looks of disbelief and humor for your team.

“Okay! Truth or dare…” Garcia began, squinting at everyone on the team, before landing on Emily. “Emily!” Emily giggled, something you’d rarely ever heard before. Usually she laughed fully and proudly.

“Dare!” she answered valiantly. You cringed at what Garcia might think of to dare her. Or any of you, for that matter. You didn’t know if truth was better than dare or if dare was better than truth in this game, especially considering you had a strong affection for the man sitting next to you. You knew that Emily, JJ, Garcia, and Morgan would give you both truths and dares pertaining to each other and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. You knew that he didn’t have the same feelings you had for him. He was a genius; he couldn’t fall in love with a normal human like you. He’d fall in love with another genius. The thought was crushing at first, almost literally cutting off your respiratory system when the realization dawned on you. Unrequited love hurt like a bitch, and the only people who knew about your love for him was Emily, JJ, Garcia, and Morgan.

“I dare you… to chug all of Spencer’s whisky at once!” Garcia shouted, pointing a polished finger at Spencer’s untouched glass. Emily followed her pointing to Spencer, who pushed his drink towards her encouragingly. He really didn’t want to drink it. While most everyone was too drunk to notice, something seemed odd about Spencer. He had barely spoken, and he was crouching into himself. Emily grabbed his glass with force and peered at the alcohol. While she pondered her dare, you turned toward Spencer, concerned.

“Spence, are you alright?” you asked quietly, looking him in the eye. He could barely return the gaze. Something was up.

“I’m alright,” he answered anyways, giving you a watery smile and resting his chin on his palm. You shook you head at him, not believing his answer.

“Spence, I’m a profiler. I know you’re not alright. If you don’t wanna talk, that’s fine,” you said, trying to make it clear that you cared about his wellbeing. “But if you want to talk, I’m all ears.” He sighed, knowing that he should probably tell you, but still felt uncomfortable sharing. Without thinking, you gently grabbed his hand and looked him in the eye. “It’s okay. You can tell me, but only if you want to.” He smiled at you, grateful that you respected his boundaries. For some reason, that compelled him to tell you. He knew he could trust you.

“It’s… kind of stupid, but-” he began slowly, before being cut off by Morgan. The conversation you two’d had apparently lasted through Emily and Morgan’s turns.

“Pretty boy, truth or dare?” Morgan asked with a grin. Spencer swallowed, not knowing what drunk Morgan would demand for either truth or dare. While he was deciding, he looked down and saw that you still had you hand in his, and you were unconsciously tracing shapes into his palm. He didn’t pull away.

“Well, truth, I guess,” he answered. He decided that truth would be less harmful, but boy was he wrong. He knew he had chosen the wrong answer when he spotted his friend’s sly smirk through his glass of rum.

“I dare you to tell us all what Y/N’s hair smells like,” he said with a hiccup. Spencer felt his cheeks heat up as he turned to you with wide eyes. You were already looking at him, equally as shell shocked. A blush had crept its way onto your cheeks as well, and you internally cursed yourself for wearing your feelings so blatantly on your face, but Spencer didn’t seem to notice. He looked back to Morgan, who was rubbing his hands together like a mad scientist. There were hoots of agreement all across the table.

“And if I don’t?” he asked nervously, already having an idea of what he would need to do.

“You need to take a shot of the hardest stuff they’ve got,” Morgan answered, the grin evident in his intoxicated voice. Spencer turned to you, a sorrowful look in his puppy eyes.

“It’s fine, Spence,” you said, feeling horrible for him. You knew that he was a gentleman who didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. What he didn’t know is that you secretly wanted him to do it, as long as he was okay with it. A concerned look dawned on his beautiful face.

“Are you sure?” he asked, glad that you were willing to comply with Morgan’s stupid truth that was more like a dare. You nodded, smiling lightly to assure him. He noticed the faint rosy color that flushed your cheeks and held back a smile. He loved it when you blushed.

Slowly, Spencer moved towards your shining Y/H/C hair. You heard and felt him inhale deeply, and you had never been more glad that you washed your hair before joining your team’s outing. Warmth from him radiated onto the soft skin of your neck, the neck that Spencer had dreamt of kissing many times. He knew he had fallen in love with you about five months after you joined the BAU, when he saw you comforting a child who’s parents had been murdered, holding him tightly to your chest as you whispered to him.

He pulled away slowly and you could barely contain the butterflies jumbling in your stomach. That was the closest you’ve ever been to him, and you had enjoyed the hell out of it. He felt the exact same way, relishing in the scent of you. He would always catch whiffs of your perfume or of your shampoo as you talked to him or passed by him, but never did he have the chance to really appreciate your lovely scent.

“Her hair smells like…” he began, looking nervously at you. You squeezed his hand, which you were still holding onto, letting him know that it was okay to continue. You yourself were slightly curious as to what your scent was. “Her hair smells like roses and honey,” he finished, and you felt your face warm up even more than before. Roses and honey, huh? Morgan laughed along with almost everyone else at the table.

“My man,” Morgan laughed at Spencer’s flushed cheeks. He had known about his friend’s affection for you, and decided to use it to help him make a move. He also knew about your feelings for him, and he knew that you would enjoy that dare disguised as a truth just as much as Spencer did. Spencer cleared his throat awkwardly as Emily took over for him, truth or daring Rossi.

Eventually, after quite a few giggle filled rounds composed of Morgan kissing Garcia, JJ downing a shot, and Rossi sitting on Emily’s lap, the attention had been turned to you. Garcia smirked at you as she asked mischievously, “Y/N, truth or dare?”

You swallowed a sip of your wine as you thought of what Garcia would ask for truth or want you to do for dare. Most of your conclusions had something to do with the handsome man sitting next to you, who was also gazing at you along with everyone else at the table. Everyone waited for you to answer, even Hotch. Suddenly, without you thinking your answer through, your mouth opened and answered for you as you looked Garcia right in her eyes.

“Dare.”

Morgan hooted at your answer while Emily and JJ just glanced knowingly at each other. You instantly regretted choosing dare, but you couldn’t go back now. Not unless you wanted to choke down a shot of legalized moonshine. Garcia wiggled her eyebrows as she looked in between you and Spencer, and you were fairly certain of what her dare would be.

“I dare you to tell us who you like.”

While you had expected it, the dare had almost made you choke on your Pinot Grigio. Garcia giggled as she watched you, holding your hand to your chest, stare icily at her. You shook your head, already trying to find a way to deny her dare. Morgan and Emily laughed at you as you tried to defend yourself.

“That’s not fair, that’s more of a truth, not a dare. You can’t twist the rules like that,” you argued, your forehead creasing in desperation. Garcia simply shrugged, her curled blonde hair bouncing off of her shoulders.

“You’re already one foot in, admitting that you like someone,” she shot back, JJ nodding with her.

“She’s got a point,” Rossi added, raising his glass slightly in agreement. You turned to him, shocked that he was pinning you against a wall with the rest of the team. Rossi, of all people! You sighed, knowing that they were right. You didn’t deny that you liked someone.

Spencer’s heart jumped into his throat when it hit him that you hadn’t denied that you liked someone. For a split second, he thought that maybe you liked him. You had been inviting him for coffee every so often lately, and he noticed you wearing his favorite shade of lipstick ever since he told you that it complimented your eyes. He would always remember the glowing blush that rose to your cheeks when he had said that.

You gulped down some more of your wine, leaving residue of Spencer’s favorite lipstick on the rim of your glass in the shape of your lips. Maybe tonight would be the night that you admitted your secret to him. You had been keeping the feelings from slipping from your mouth, but it took serious effort to keep your lips sealed. There had been a few times where you almost let it out, but you had been waiting for the perfect time to admit that you were in love with Spencer Reid.

Maybe now was that time.

Everyone watched you intently as you swallowed, cracking your left hand’s knuckles loudly, considering you and Spencer still had your fingers intertwined under the table. You pushed your hair over your shoulder, and Spencer got another heavenly whiff of your hair. This time he could pick up the gentle smell of the perfume you had spritzed on the base of your throat as well, the same spot Spencer had daydreamed about leaving love bites on. He would get the urge to mark you at work when you wore your hair up, loose strands dangling in your face, and he felt the same irresistible urge to mark you then.

At first, you mumbled the answer into the palm of your hand. You were scared- no, horrified of what Spencer’s reaction would be. The incoherent mumbling ended up sounding like ‘fenced slur’, to which Morgan shook his head disappointedly, expressing what everyone was feeling.

“Speak up, baby, or I’ll say it for you,” he said in an amused tone. You sucked in a deep breath, feeling the pressure to answer then more than ever. How cowardly would it be for one of your best friends to admit your love for you. You swallowed hard, ignoring all of the stares shifting between you and Morgan.

Fuck it.

“Spencer,” you blurted, staring at your wineglass. You could feel your arms practically go numb as Garcia squealed, Morgan shouted a Yes!, and Emily gave a cheer. But the worst of all, the stare you thought you’d never dislike, was feeling Spencer’s blown wide eyes burning into the side of your head. You stared straight ahead as your drunk friends laughed and high-fived, finally getting you to spill.

But all of the noise, all of the excited feelings, and all of the smiles faded into dullness as you felt cold air fall upon the palm of your hand; the hand Spencer’s had rested in just moments before.

The metal stake of rejection plummeted deeply and excruciatingly into your heart. The small act had caused so much pain. Damn it, damn it, damn it! You just ruined a perfectly good friendship over your stupid feelings! You idiot! You felt your heart scramble as a white hot feeling crawled its way into your throat, constricting your breathing. You didn’t even dare to look up at Spencer as you muttered a weak sorry. The only thing you could clearly hear was your own short breaths entering and escaping your parted lips, everything else faded into gray noise.

Hotch eyed Spencer with disdain. He had watched Spencer rip his hand away from yours like it was poisonous. He didn’t talk about the subject as much as his team did, but he knew that you loved Spencer. He knew what heartbreak was like, and he felt a pang of sympathy for you. The rest of the team remained oblivious to your pain, the alcohol in their bodies making their thoughts slip and slide. They all were still ecstatic that you had finally admitted who you liked, and Morgan was just waiting for the perfect opportunity to get Spencer to spill.

For what seemed like forever, you remained in your colorless void. You answered dumb truths and completed dumb dares, but your mind couldn’t get over the feeling of Spencer’s hand leaving yours. He didn’t even care to look at you. You didn’t feel brave enough to look at him. When before you felt warmth and comfort radiating from Spencer’s body, all you felt then was icy stiffness. You wondered if Spencer was feeling the same.

“Y/N! Truth or dare?” Emily asked. The attention of the table was brought to you.

“Dare,” you answered, not caring how bad it would be. In that moment, you didn’t really care about anything. You had let your biggest secret go, exist in the world, what else was there to lose? Emily giggled, thinking that you were finally going to try to live a little, but in reality, it was quite the opposite.

“I dare you to…” she trailed off, thinking and tapping her index finger to her chin. After a few moments of thought, her whole face brightened and a mischievous glint shined in her eyes. “I dare you to kiss Morgan. Really kiss him, not just a peck.” Immediately you glanced at Garcia, who’s jaw had dropped. A smirk was plastered on Morgan’s handsome face. He knew that Emily was doing this to get on Spencer’s nerves. He also knew that you would step up to the dare. You were just that kind of girl.

You felt a small smile arise to your face as you scooted your chair back and stood. Your heels clacked against the dark wood floor of the bar, and you felt everyone’s eyes, including Spencer’s, watch you as you strode over to Morgan with a sudden boost of confidence. “I-I’m not sure that this is a good idea,” Penelope stuttered. Morgan chuckled, a low noise, as his eyes glued to you walking seductively towards him. He knew that you were hot, but damn. He had never seen you in this nature.

“It’s okay babygirl, it’s just a dare. It doesn’t mean anything,” he assured his friend. Y/N hummed in agreement, slowly straddling Morgan’s lap. You leaned into him, your hands trailing down his chest. Your face was very close to his, within centimeters of his, staring him right in the eye. You didn’t feel any attraction for Morgan, but you wanted Spencer to see what he was missing.

Just as you were about to touch your lips to Morgan’s, the squeak of a chair being pushed out aggressively startled the both of you. “Wait!” You turned to the source of the voice, your concentration on Morgan broken, and you felt a certain type of electricity spread through your body when your gaze landed on a flush-faced Spencer. His usually gentle hands were clenched into fists at his sides, squeezing so tightly his knuckles were turning white. He was breathing heavily and angrily, his chest raising and falling quickly. His breathes could be heard. He was clenching his jaw, something you found extremely attractive. Everything about his stance was extremely attractive. You had never seen him like this, but boy did you love it. Your eyes were stuck on his figure as he paced over to you and Morgan. Everyone’s eyes were on Spencer as he grabbed your hand roughly and pulled you off of his friend. He was blinded by jealousy, and in his mind, in that moment, there was nothing else he could do.

“Spence, what are you-” you began, but got cut off by his lips crashing into yours forcefully. You stood there, shocked. It was as if he had pulled you out from the deep end of the pool. Everything in you was screaming to pull at his hair, push him against the wall, and much, much more, but all you could do was slowly begin to kiss him back. Your lips moved in harmony as he placed one large, warm hand on your cheek and another in your hair. His lips were soft and tasted of coffee and vanilla lip balm, and they were everything and more than what you thought they would be like. He was a little unstable from inexperience, but it was him, and that was all that mattered. He was actually kissing you, after all of those years of sneaky glances and trying to get his attention. You found your hands running though his hair, relishing in the feeling of his soft locks between your fingers. His heart was pounding against your chest rapidly, as yours was against his as well. You breathed in his scent, books and sandalwood and his musky cologne. While neither of you wanted to, you both had to pull away to breathe. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes blown wide. You felt a pleasant electrical hum flowing through your limbs, something you had never felt for anyone else before. All the feelings of jealousy and anger had left Spencer in that kiss, and he began to see reality again.

“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pulling away from you. He did force a kiss onto you, and he did pull you away from Morgan rather aggressively. “Did I hurt you?” He continued, worry laced in his voice. The whole table was quiet, waiting impatiently on your response.

You shook your head, stepping towards him. Not in the way you had strutted towards Morgan, which was simply to catch Spencer’s attention, but rather in a caring way. You placed a warm hand on Spencer’s shoulder. You knew he was referring not only to pulling you away from Morgan, but from when he took away his hand from yours, and ignoring you after that. It was all forgiven. “You don’t need to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong,” you replied lovingly. In that moment you had forgiven him, and decide to not worry about why he had pulled away. That would be a later conversation.

The team, who didn’t seem surprised by what was happening, appeared to have gone back to their game of truth or dare without you two. You were grateful, you wanted to spend this moment with him alone. “But I-” Spencer began again, guilt overcoming him. You cut him off by placing a finger on his plump lips.

“Spence. It’s alright. More then alright.” Spencer’s worried expression slowly faded from his beautiful features as he pulled you against him tightly, never wanting to let go.

“So what was wrong earlier?” you asked quietly, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your voice vibrated onto the skin of his neck, the warmth making him smile, as did your concern.

“Well, it’s fine now, but…” he trailed off before sighing and starting again. “After the case, with you and Morgan having to pretend to be, well, together, I thought you really did… y'know, like him,” he answered truthfully. You pulled away from his comforting embrace, meeting his eyes. A few second later, you bursted out laughing. Spencer watched you, watched as your nose crinkled, watched your eyes squeeze shut, watched you as you laughed. Slowly, he began to laugh with you, building up to laughing as hard as you. The sight and sound of him in a state of such joy was heavenly. You pulled him into a hug once again.

“Oh Spence,” you began, your laughter dying down. “I don’t like Morgan. Not like that. Clearly I don’t,” you said, referring to your current state. “It’s you, Spence. It’s always been you.”
Who the Hell is Dick Grayson: Part 5

AN: There’s a second on at the end, but I figured I’d go ahead and announce, this is the final chapter of this series. I wasn’t originally planning on ending it here, but I like it.

Prompt: Being Tony Stark’s daughter and dating Dick Grayson

Words: 788

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4


    Neither of you are happy. You realize it after about three months. Despite your newly found relationship with your father, this isn’t your world. The people you care most about aren’t here. And Dick … Dick is quiet, almost sullen.

    Any goodwill he had built with the Avengers that day in the spar had quickly faded away when he had tried to give them some advice. You could understand why they didn’t want it, but still. Dick had stayed locked up in Stark Tower for the most part. Avoiding the team that wasn’t his, and a family your father didn’t want him a part of.

    To be honest you choice was easy. While you cared deeply for your father, you loved Dick. You loved his family, and the family you had made on his earth. You loved the League and the Team, and you were ready to go home.

    The research takes you another few months. You’re driven by Dick’s quietness, and his lack of desire to go out. “This Earth has heroes,” He says, “And I’m not one of them.” You reach your answers with a little help from Jane Foster of all people.

    You do a few test runs in a facility out of you father’s attention, until you’re sure it will work. The night you tell Dick, you see the first signs of life return to his eyes, and you know you’ve made the right decision.

    You only question it when you’re forced to tell your dad. “So you’re leaving just like that?”

    You sigh, “It’s not just like that and you know it.”

    “You spend years on his earth, and he can only last a few months on yours? Is that an equal relationship? Is that a partnership?”

    You take a deep breath, “I wasn’t miserable there. I was happy there. I had friends, and I was a part of something.”

    “You’re a part of something here.”

    You shake your head, “No, I’m not. I do things you can do from the suit, or that any number of people from S.H.E.I.L.D. could do. Plus his family is there.”

    He stares at you, “I’m here. What about me? Or do I not count?”

    You hesitate, “I love you dad, but this is my choice.” He doesn’t say another word, he just leaves the room. You make sure that you and Dick are gone before he wakes up the next day.

    You’re met on the other side by Dick’s family and the entire team. There’s hugs, and welcome backs, and for the first time in what seems like forever, you feel at home.

You both fall back into your life seamlessly. You watch as the spark returns to Dick’s eyes, and you feel it start to return to your own, after you’re back in your chair at the tower; as you guide teams through their missions. You proceed with wedding planning, and your career, until a year has passed, and it’s the day of your wedding.

You feel a small twinge of regret, at the thought of your dad not being here. You stare at a picture of the two of you before someone says, “I heard there was a bride who needs walking down the aisle.”

You turn to see your dad dressed in a tux, standing a bit hesitantly in the doorway. You rush forward to hug him. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel how much he’s missed you.

“What are you doing here?”

He smiles, “I wasn’t going to miss my only daughter getting married.”

You can see the truth of the statement in his eyes, but you can also see that there’s something else, “What happened?”

He sighs, “It’s your big day you don’t want to hear about it.” You stare at him, and he takes a deep breath, “Long story short, the team split up, and I had a massive fight with Cap. We can talk about it later.”

“Later?”

He nods, “I was thinking if you and the boy wonder didn’t mind, that I’d stick around for a bit. Find out exactly who the hell this Dick Grayson really is. Find out why he makes you so happy. Get to know my kid a bit better.”

You smile, as the wedding march starts. Your father offers you his arm and you take it, “I want nothing more.” And with that you both walk towards your future.


AN: This is the final part of Who the Hell is Dick Grayson. I realize I could keep going, but I like ending it here, because it leaves it up to the reader what happens next. Does Tony stay or does he go? It’s up to you.