empty beer

If I was to go to a nazi rally, I absolutelyyyyy wouldn’t … 

get an empty glass beer or soda bottle, an old cloth like a tshirt or dishrag, dish soap, gasoline, and some matches, 

I wouldn’t fill the empty bottle with the gasoline and dish soap, or omit the dishsoap and just use gasoline, up to like I don’t know just before the spout starts to get thinner, but it doesn’t have to be that much you know, I WOULDN’T DO ANY OF THIS, 

and then I absolutely wouldn’t insert the cloth of choice, into the bottle, and I wouldn’t get the inserted part of the cloth wet with the gasoline

and then I definitely wouldn’t get the tip of said inserted cloth soaked in gasoline, 

and I absolutely wouldn’t light the tip of said cloth on fire with matches or a lighter, 

and CERTAINLY WOULDN’T chuck it at a nazi or the ground near nazis to insure it breaks.

Because that would be illegal, am I right feds? 

:) and as a law abiding citizen I would absolutely neverrr condone this. 

So this has been a PSA <3

The End of the World

12x10 coda

Long after the beer in their bottles had warmed, long after Sam had excused himself to ‘do some research,’ Dean and Castiel sat at the table in silence. Dean shot furtive glances at Castiel, who had taken to rubbing his thumb around the opening of his bottle.

The silence was deafening.

“It wouldn’t be the end of the world, you know,” Cas said abruptly.
Dean blinked. After today, Cas could be referring to just about anything.

“My death,” Cas continued, thumb moving in slow, methodical circles around the top, “It wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“Cas…” Dean’s voice was rough, thick with worry. He’d heard enough of what the angel, and Lily, for that matter, had said to him. Not to mention nobody could hold a self-grudge quite as well as the angel.

“You saw how today went,” Castiel continued evenly, “You almost died. Again. Because of me.”

“Pretty sure you weren’t the one coming at me with an angel blade,” Dean replied, weakly trying (and failing) to interject a tone of humor.

Cas scoffed. “It doesn’t change the fact it was my mistake that dragged you into the mess to begin with. It was my mistake Lily Sunders was dragged into it too and…” he paused, thumb on the edge of the rim, balancing over a precipice it seemed. Cas sighed, his hand fell away from the bottle. “Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing for you if I was gone.”

The floor seemed to fall away and Dean had to stifle a gasp. He’d spent most of his time nursing a not-so-subtle anger at Cas and when Cas had returned it, Dean had taken that as a sign that Cas was fine. And yeah, Cas offering to let Lily take him down would have been worrisome, but Cas was smart, he was kind, he was just saying what she needed to hear…wasn’t he?

Castiel proffered a small smile, looking up at Dean at last. “At least you wouldn’t have to worry about my stupid ideas anymore, right?"  

It’s said with some humor, like Cas expects Dean to agree and smile right alongside him. Dean just felt sick to his stomach. Taking a shaky breath, Dean stood. Made his way to Cas. Knelt at the angel’s feet, anchoring himself by putting both hands on Cas’ knees as he looked into the angel–his angel’s eyes.

"I would never recover.”

Cas blinked. “What?”

“If you die, man. I…I wouldn’t recover.”

Castiel sat frozen in place, his hand still next to the empty beer bottle.

“It might not be the end of the world, but it would be the end of my world. Cas, I had to face that today, with the banishing symbol and you have no idea–” Dean was breathless now, trying to say the things he could rarely bring himself to even admit, “I know the angels say we treat you bad. And I–I do and I’m sorry, man, but I can’t lose you. Not again.”

Hanging his head, Dean tried to say the other things, the other, far more secret words. The sort of words that the angels would likely claim corrupted Castiel beyond repair. So he wouldn’t say them. He couldn’t. A silent I love you was all he could give Cas.

But as he struggled, a strange thing happened. The faintest of touches on his hands. Dean looked down, really looked, to see Castiel’s hands hovering over his own. They locked eyes. Castiel let his hands drop firmly atop Dean’s.

“You’re worth falling for, you know.”

I love you too.

Stay With Me

Warnings: Angst, mentions of a car accident.

A/N: This came to me when I was at the library and the song ‘Stay With Me’ by Sam Smith came on. Let me know what you think? I’ll do it as part of my Jeff x Reader series. ALSO I will be doing all of my requests as well, and some of them that I do will just be your memories of Jeff. Should I make it a separate series? Let me know what you guys think! :D

This is just a preview!

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with me? Because I was thinking,” your boyfriend rubs his thumb across your lip. “We can stop and…” he trails off, biting his lip.

You roll your eyes. “You get a taste and now you can’t stop.”

He chuckles at that. “Technically I didn’t get to taste you,” he grins when notices how your cheeks turn pink. “But that can change.”

Suddenly a body bumps into you from behind. “She can’t go anywhere,” Hannah, who has had too much drink, slurs. “She has to stay here and… and…”

“Fine,” Jeff huffs. “Hog my baby.”

You give him an apologetic smile. “Hurry back,” you lean up and kiss him softly. “We can take advantage of one of the rooms. I’ll let you have another taste.”

“Fuck,” he rasps. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” another peck to his lips you watch him walk over to his car. Why he volunteered to do a beer run was beyond you. Once he’s gone, you turn to Hannah. “You’re a mess.”

She giggles. “No, I’m clean!”

 You sigh and wave Clay over who just walked out of the house. “Where’s Jeff?”

“Beer run,” you answer and he frowns.

“But he’s been drinking.”

“He had two beers, two hours ago,” you chuckle. “He’s fine.”

You and Clay try to handle a tipsy Hannah, but she was a sassy drunk. She took her empty beer cup and throws it at Alex. Your brother raises a brow. “Why did she throw a cup at me?”

You can’t help but laugh at that, “She must’ve mistaken you for the trash can.”

“Ha ha ha,” Alex gives you the finger. You laugh again.

But your laugh was cut off by the sound of tires squealing and the sound of- “Oh god, Clay,” you cry. “Jeff!”

———————————–

You woke up to feeling of something on your face. You sit up and blink the sleep out of your eyes. It’s Jeff’s fingers, twitching against your cheek. Your eyes widen, “Help! He’s awake!”

———————————–

The Doctor opens the door, giving you the okay to go in. “Come on, sweetie,” Mrs. Akins takes your hand in hers and gives it a gentle squeeze. You look over at Clay and Hannah, both of them giving you a smile.

When you walk into the room, the first thing you want to do is throw yourself into his arms, but you don’t. He’s sitting up, but he still looks weak. The doctor follows in behind you.

“Look who’s here to see you, Jeff,” he gives a smile. “Your family. They’ve been here since day one,” he points to you. “Especially this one.”

“Oh honey,” Mrs. Atkins rushes over to her only child. “I was so worried- we all were.”

“We’re so glad that you’re okay,” Mr. Atkins adds in.

“When can I go home?” Jeff asks, voice rough. “I hate hospitals.”

“Soon baby, soon.”

His eyes move from his mom to you. You smile, “I’ve missed you.”

He’s quiet. Then, he tilts his head to the side.

“I’m sorry, but… do I know you?”

Jump me, bro?


Prompted myself with: “I just want a neighborhood AU where Stiles is the bro-iest bro to ever bro and Derek pines after him anyway.”

I’m trying to get better about moving my twitterfics over to a more readable format without overthinking them, so we’ll see how that goes. (Also on AO3)

Derek’s house is a couple doors down from what he’s pretty sure is a frat house-wannabe. He’d drop the qualifier—as an undergrad, he’d unfortunately lived close enough to frat row to recognize the distinctive loud parties, music thumping late into the night, a stream of girls constantly flowing in and out the doors, bros drunkenly crooning along to badly-tuned guitars—but as far as he can tell, all of the guys are at least a few years out of college.

Resisting the urge to call the cops with a noise complaint takes some effort. Derek doesn’t particularly want to be that guy, though; he still has to live in this neighborhood. And a part of him, much as he doesn’t want to admit it, simply wishes he’d been invited. It’s not that it sounds like fun, exactly. Derek didn’t enjoy those types of parties when he was in college, and he’s not nearly old enough yet for the nostalgia to kick in. It’s just that…well, it would be nice to be included.

He carefully doesn’t think about the fact that the shift from outright irritation to a sort of wistful longing happened around the time that he saw one particular guy hanging around in front of the house, surrounded by his friends.

Derek does not find frat bros attractive. He never has. He never will. A certain long-limbed guy with an infectious laugh and warm brown eyes won’t change that.

He finds other ways to channel his frustration, some more productive than others. On nights when he takes his trash to the curb, he makes his way down to the overstuffed bins haphazardly jumbled in front of the pseudo-frat house. Under cover of darkness, shielded by the noise pouring through the brightly-lit windows, he sorts through the upper layers of his neighbors’ trash, separating stacks of greasy pizza boxes from sticky piles of beer cans.

It’s primarily to be a good citizen. Every house in the neighborhood has separate recycling bins—they’re even color coded, making it incredibly easy to put the correct materials in the appropriate spot. Derek’s just doing his part for the environment, since his obnoxious neighbors refuse to take a few extra seconds out of their day. At least, that’s what he tells himself when he’s sticking his fingers in strangers’ trash. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t count as trespassing if he’s not actually going into the yard, and he’s not stealing anything. Just…moving things around a little.

The other reason’s one he doesn’t like to dwell on. The rational side of his brain recognizes that the guys in this house don’t even know him, so why would they invite him over? This isn’t like high school, when he was the nerd people intentionally ignored. They’re living their lives, he’s living his, and it’s perfectly natural for them to not intersect.

But one night, as Derek slaps the lid of the recycling bin shut, wishing he’d brought a roll of paper towels or maybe even some wet wipes, he looks up and finds one of the bros standing on the front porch, watching him.

Derek freezes in place. He can’t immediately identify the person; from the street, all he can see is a tall, athletic figure backlit by the open front door. He’s expecting to be chased off the property, probably cussed out in the process, but the guy comes down the steps and lifts the lid of the recycling bin, dropping his empty beer can inside.

“Thanks for doing that, bro,” he says. “The guys don’t spend a lotta time thinking about the environment.”

It’s not just a bro. It’s the bro. The one Derek hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. His first time speaking to Derek, and it’s because he caught Derek rummaging around in his garbage late at night.

“You’re uh, you’re welcome,” Derek says.

Fortunately, the guy doesn’t seem to care about getting an explanation. He introduces himself instead: Stiles. Of course his name would be equally intriguing, Derek thinks, annoyed with himself for even caring about this interaction.

Derek gives his name in turn, wondering if he should point out his house to make his presence here seem less weird, but Stiles doesn’t seem inclined to linger in the cold. He heads back inside, giving Derek a brief, friendly wave before shutting the door again.

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valentine’s day // dylan o’brien

Summary: Dylan falls in love with a girl who hates Valentine’s Day

Requested: no

Pairing: Dylan & Y/N

Warning: yes, mature language, themes, & smut throughout

Masterlist

His long legs extended across her lap as he took a large gulp of the amber liquid. Sighing contently, he placed the glass bottle on the floor and snuggled deeper into his couch. Her hands were lazily drapped over his feet as she focused on the television. The movie that they had been watching was fairly interesting although she was having a bit of a hard time following the plot.

“Wait, is he the sister’s boyfriend?” Y/N asked her best friend who shook his head in return.

“No, that’s the guy they met at the bar who looks like the boyfriend.” Dylan explained.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/N continued to watch the film hoping somewhere along the way things would make sense.

This was their routine. Every Friday night for the past 3 years was spent on his lumpy couch drinking beer, eating pizza, and watching movies. As the ending credits started, Y/N let out a soft yawn as she extended her arms.

“What did you think?” Dylan asked, eager to know what she thought of the film. “I thought she was going to pick the boyfriend’s brother’s friend.” Y/N admitted with a giggle, thinking about the cliched love triangle movie she just watched. “The ending was very unexpected.”

Pulling his feet off of her lap, he sat on the edge of the couch.

“What about you?” She called out as he walked to the kitchen with his empty beer bottle.

“I was routing for the boyfriend’s brother’s friend too.” His laugh echoed throughout the kitchen.

Their friendship consisted of watching cheesy romance movies together, texts at 3am when they couldn’t sleep, and the comfort of knowing that they always had someone they could count on. It was completely platonic.

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Again

Originally posted by natpekis

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 7,501 (ok kinda sorry)

Warnings: angst!, a tiny bit of violence, swear words, alcohol

Summary: Being Bucky’s best friend (after Steve of course) gets a lot of perks - but being in love with him WHILE being his best friend means that your adoration must be kept a secret. That also means you have to silently endure every single encounter with women he has whether he tells you or you see it for yourself.

A/N: So this one shot is based on the Amy Shark song “Adore You” (she speaks to me on so many levels!) and I just really wanted a Bucky fic for it because he’d be absolutely clueless to someone adoring him like this…I also kind of skipped over the “oh look at him I’m in love with him” fluffy stuff and I just focused on the couple of days leading up to the point reader can’t take it anymore. I like the angst - it fuels me *evil laugh*

Y/F/I = Your First Initial


I’m just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm

I’m just gonna walk home kicking stones at parked cars

But I had a great night ‘cause you kept rubbing against my arm

I’m just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm


You hugged Wanda and Nat, giving small waves to the boys, before turning to Bucky. 

“Hey B, I’m going to head back to the tower. The mission took a bigger toll on me than I thought.” You made a show of rubbing your neck, hoping the sadness in your eyes would be mistaken for exhaustion.

Bucky turned away from the young, curvy brunette tucked under his arm, his smile fading as his eyes scanned over you with concern. He didn’t move away from her, nor did you move any closer, instead you gripped the strap of your bag hard, until your knuckles were white, in an effort to ignore the pain radiating through your chest.

“Are you sure? Did you want me to come with you?”

You gave serious thought to saying yes, knowing he’d probably give the woman a kiss and get her phone number before following you out of the bar, talking your ear off about how she was this and that. All the while, you would be fighting the anger and nausea bubbling up your throat, fighting back the urge to scream at him to shut up about her and every other woman, just fighting to keep your face neutral as you listened to the love of your life pine after any and every other woman but you.

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"It's a free lake, isn't it?"

Warning: long story: This happened a couple years ago at my parents’ cottage. This cottage community used to be pretty sparsely populated and felt pretty remote…back in the 60s when my Dad was a kid. These days it’s completely built up and feels more like a subdivision with water between the houses instead of roads. A sunny summer Saturday can get really busy. My Dad, however, still likes to go up there for a quiet relaxing experience—something that is still only kind of possible because their place is on a tiny little island to itself. Lots of boats go by out in the open water, but they don’t come in close so it’s not much of a bother.

Then one day my parents, myself, and one of their friends are sitting on the dock, enjoying a quiet drink as afternoon turns to evening, when they see two fishermen in a pontoon boat pull around the point of the island, trolling along the waterline. This happens sometimes, and isn’t a big deal so long as people are respectful. These two were not.

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GREY AREA. (M) | 01

And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.


“I’d rather be alone, but you’re fermented in my bones.” - Habits of my Heart, Jaymes Young

›› Pairing: Min Yoongi / Reader
›› Word Count: 4,444
›› Chapter Index and Warnings
›› Soulmate!AU, Slowburn, Angst




And it starts like this:


You’re standing in a party that one of the college fraternities is throwing, music blaring through a pair of speakers so loudly, that the voice of the singer comes out in a buzz. You feel your heart jump with the rhythm leaking into the room. You’re standing in the foyer of the large house, the room filled with too many people to be considered comfortable, bodies bump into you every few seconds, but you can’t find it within you to care.


You watch and laugh as Hoseok, one of your friend’s, does a keg stand. Two boys you don’t recognize, and you’re sure neither Hoseok or Taehyung do either, holding each one of his legs upwards. A number of people have huddled around to cheer him on, screaming out a chorus of, “Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!”

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Cinderella - Jughead Jones

Request: Hi honey ! <3 I love all your imagines, you are such a good writer ! I was wondering, if you could write Juggy imagine, something like Cinderella story, where the reader is shy and clumsy girl, who doesn’t go out much often because of her stepmother and her daughters, but one night, with Veronica and Betty help (two fairygodmathers haha) she go to a school party, where she met Jughead, but when she was leaving in hurry, she left something, and Juggy is determined to find her ?

This was like, the cutest prompt I’ve ever read and I just had to do it! Let me know if you want a part 2 :)

Jughead x Reader + Beronica because I’m trash

Warnings: - Swearing / abusive step-family :c - if you deal with these kind of issues, please tell someone. Anyone. You deserve so much more <3 

Words: - 4,849


Cinderella, that was pretty much you in a nutshell.

You walked along the side of the hallway, lurking. You managed to pass through to the high school exit, unnoticed by anyone. Not that you were ever noticed. You could turn into a flying monkey and still no attention would be paid to you.

Not that you cared. You were a selfless girl, kind and virtuous. To everyone else you were the shy girl without friends, too perfect and studious to need anyone. Inside, you were longing for someone to talk too, because nothing and nobody in Riverdale is ever perfect. There’s always a layer of cracked stone hidden beneath the perfectly painted exterior.

The reason you didn’t have many friends was because you never really got out much, besides school. You weren’t used to much social interaction and all your spare time was spent in the library, doing your homework. You couldn’t do it at home, because you had to take care of your stepmother who would often come home high or drunk. Your stepsisters would blame you, and you would have to clean up all of the mess and damage that they left behind or your step-mother would beat you.

That was always another reason why you never let anyone know. You were too selfless and paranoid to make a fuss, you didn’t want people worrying over you or thinking that you were just seeking their attention. You had the bruises and the scars to prove your claims, but in your mind speaking out would just make everything worse.

Still, through all that you had bared, you wore a smile on your face and tried to stay positive. It was all for your Mother’s sake. She had died in a car accident when you were 9 and it had left you traumatised. Sadly you didn’t have much time to recover as your Father followed just 4 years later thanks to cancer. Your Mum always used to tell you to look on the bright side of life, to be kind and show love. All you wanted was to make her proud.


As you walked out into the parking lot to fetch your bike, you saw a group of people crowded around the racks engaged in conversation. You walked up to them gingerly, your body spiked with nerves. This was, as dubbed by Cheryl Blossom, the Sad Breakfast Club. You’d always admired them from afar. 

Archie Andrews was talented, in both music and sports. Betty Cooper was the typical girl next door, good grades and a strong mind. Kevin Keller was too fabulous for words, and you adored his confidence. Veronica Lodge was a powerful feminist, who stood up for herself, as well as standing up for her friends and fellow females. Then, there was Jughead Jones. You’d partnered up with him once in English class. He had a way with words, and you couldn’t help but ask him about his novel. His eyes had lit up with passion, a passion that didn’t die for the whole time the two of you conversed. His friends had been surprised at how talkative he was to you, how excited he was that you seemed to understand and respect his novel.

It felt great to finally have someone to talk to, about normal things. However, after that encounter you hadn’t really spoken to him, although he would sometimes acknowledge you with a small smile and a nod when you passed him in the hallway. You didn’t have the courage to interact with him more than you already did. Besides, you saw the look in his eyes. It was indescribable. The same look that clouded over your eyes daily, a look that nobody except those who possessed it would be able to see. The look of helplessness, that behind whatever perfect or basic exterior you had built up, was layered with secrets and scandal. You didn’t want to present yourself as another burden in his life when, without even talking to him properly, you could just tell he wasn’t going through the best of times.

You could hear that they were talking about Cheryl Blossom’s upcoming party. The party of the century. A masked party. Considering your status, you hadn’t received an invite so you weren’t going. The idea of taking on a whole new identity, the ability to let yourself loose without having to worry about how people saw you. It was thrilling, and sent anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins. How you would love to confidently dance at a party, socialise, do things that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) just wouldn’t do… couldn’t do. For once, after all the things you gave to the world, maybe taking something in return and having your fifteen minutes of fame was all you needed. 

Your daydreaming meant that you hadn’t been paying precise attention to where you were walking, and found yourself stumbling over a collection of bikes which had been carelessly placed in the middle of the pavement as there was no more space on the bike racks. Your felt your cheeks tint red with embarrassment as you collected the spilled contents of your bag, which you had forgotten to close. It was cliche and awkward, and what made it worse was that the SBC was right in front of you watching. They got down to help you pick stuff up and you muttered your thanks to each of them, keeping your head down. You felt someone touch your arm, and naturally you immediately leapt onto your feet away from the contact, jerking the touch away from you. Your eyes were wide and your heart was thumping. You were so skittish thanks to past trauma, and you felt your cheeks get redder as you realised it had only been a reassuring gesture from Jughead.

He was staring at you, bewildered, as he slowly walked closer and gave you your pencil case, one of the items that had fallen from your bag.

“Are you okay? -” He paused, as if trying to remember your name, not that you’d ever told him. He probably expected you to just give it to him there and then but you wanted to escape the awkward confrontation as quickly as possible. You weren’t sure why because to be honest, you would always prefer to be anywhere in the world that wasn’t home. However, if you got home late, you would just be making it worse for yourself.

“Yes, thank you. All of you,” You put on that charming smile of yours, before pulling out your vintage bike, which you had salvaged from a local junkyard. You’d manage to acquire mint green spray paint and the materials to make a small woven basket for the front, and the result wasn’t half bad. It wasn’t exactly the flashy modern bikes that lit up when they move, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. Finding the time to work for yourself was rewarding in its own sense.

You knew eyes were on you, something that you weren’t exactly used to, so you tried to get out of sight, as you rode down the street, as quickly as possible. You didn’t realise the curious spark mixed in with the helplessness in Jughead’s eyes, and you didn’t realise the suspicious glances that were exchanged between Betty and Veronica.


Home sweet home.

Home is where you feel safe, most wanted and most loved.

Your home was anything but sweet, and you felt like you were living in fear, that the hate your ‘family’ had for you was all you had going for your life.

You walked your bike up to the shed at the side of your house. It was infested with spiders and mice, and if your step-mother was in a particularly awful mood, the thickly coated, dusty floors would be your bed for the night. Lucifer, your step mother’s cat was perched on the door step. His name seemed appropriate considering his demonic demeanour and frequent attempts to claw your limbs out. His gaze followed you as you entered the house. 

Empty or smashed beer bottles clogged up the hallway, and you practically went en pointe to try and avoid the thick shards of glass that coated your path. You couldn’t hear the blaring noise of the TV, or the throwing of items coming from upstairs. This meant, it was one of those days where your stepmom went out the night before, drove to the next town over, got drunk and high and then proceeded to have a one night stand with some poor man. She wouldn’t be home until very late the following evening, and you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft sight of relief.


You had just gotten out of the shower, preparing to start on clearing up the glass when you heard the front door slam, followed by two whingey voices. Your step-sisters, Drew and Anna. Whereas your stepmom had physical abuse covered, your step-sisters preferred to hurt you verbally, to mock you and tease you, belittle you and reduce you to nothing but their own personal slave.

“(Y/N)!” You heard a screech from below your feet and you cringed inwardly, as you pulled on your comfort clothes. You knew you should have cleaned up first, but you just felt so stressed and uncomfortable from your fall earlier. Not that your own concerns were the priority in this household.

“(Y/N)!” Two simultaneous yells this time, sounding frustrated. The longer it took, the worse it would get, the more material they had to hurt you with. You hurriedly raced downstairs to their aid.

“Drew, Anna, how was your day?” You put on the nicest smile and sweetest voice you could muster. Anyone else would have snapped back at these sisters by this point, but you were an empathetic person and knew that deep down, these girls were suffering from their broken family just as much as you were. They just coped with it differently.

“Took you long enough, anyways, Cheryl invited us to her party and we need you to do our makeup like the… good sister that you are,” Anna gave a sickly sweet smirk. Your stepsisters had been sucking up to Cheryl for weeks in order to be invited to this party, and knew that you wouldn’t be going.

“She’s picking us up in her limo in about 2 hours, so hurry up. And don’t make further plans, you’re going to have to clean everything up before Mum gets home afterwards or she’ll kill you,” Drew snickered and Anna scoffed.

“Please Drew, we’re not that lucky.” The two sisters pushed past you, before walking up the stairs to their room. You felt your sensitivity levels topple over slightly, that remark was just a bit too far.


Somehow, you managed to slightly bond with your sisters over the makeup process. You tried things out on Drew, Anna would occasionally compliment how nice she looked and ask if you could do the same thing when it came to her. You almost felt like normal sisters. Until you were done. It could never last long could it? You just weren’t good enough.

Drew and Anna were wearing flamboyant dresses, with masks to matched. Their heels were higher than you thought was actually possible. As the two made their own final preparations, you were busy doing your own makeup and had laid out a pastel pink dress to wear. The dress was your mother’s, and you had managed to find it at the back of your closet from when you used to try and dress up in her clothes when you were younger. You wanted to go to this party. Why not? After all, you did everything for everyone else. For the first time, you deserved a little something back. Besides, you were sure Anna and Drew wouldn’t care, after all you had gotten on so well when you were doing their makeup. Well, better than usual at least. That had to mean something.

Cheryl wanted the party to be huge, so you were sure she wouldn’t mind if you tagged along with your sisters. It wasn’t as if you actually had any issues or rivalry with Cheryl, you just didn’t talk to her. You wouldn’t be surprised if your sisters had actually told people that they didn’t have any more siblings, and that you were just a loner only child.

You grabbed your ragged clutch, and made your way downstairs, after changing into the dress. You looked okay, but your mind was on the mask. You decided you were going to pick one up at the local costume shop on the way there, as you would travel on your bike rather than opting for the awkward journey in Cheryl’s limousine. 

You raced outside before Anna suddenly rushed up to you, shoving her iPhone into your hands.

“Ah! (Y/N) perfect, take a pic of me and Drew!” She exclaimed, before rushing back to Drew and posing, attempting to stick her chest out. You awkwardly tilted the camera to fit the both of them in it, before Anna raced back and snatched it off of you, flicking through the pictures you took. “Ugh this one’s blurry,” She muttered, as she paced back and forth.

“What are you wearing?” Drew bitterly scoffed as she circled you mockingly, like you were surrounded in shark infested waters. You suddenly felt intimidated as Anna’s attention snapped to you and she began to laugh and jeer at you.

“Goodness (Y/N), is that ugly piece of shit the best you could do?” She giggled uncontrollably and you felt tears crawl into your eyes.

“It was my mother’s” You whispered, not looking either of them in the eye.

“You keep dead people’s clothes? That’s weird, creepy, just like that Jughead kid,” Drew sighed, pulling on a loose lock of your hair. You jumped back from her and she rolled her eyes and scoffed at you.

“Wait… don’t tell me… that you thought you were coming to the party?” Anna stopped pacing, getting up close in your face and raising an eyebrow. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now.

“Well… I thought… m-maybe you would let me come with you? I just thought it was my turn to d-do something… for myself,” You stumbled clumsily, eyes trained to the ground. An awkward pause of silence skipped over you, before your stepsisters bursted into scathing hysterics. Pointing at you, taunting you. The tears freely flowed now. How could you be so stupid and naive to think somebody actually cared about you.

“You thought wrong you little bitch,” Anna’s voice sent chills down your spine as her tone turned menacing. She walked up to you, grabbed the frills of your dress and ripped them in two. You let out a strangled cry as Anna stepped back to admire her handy work. You fell to the ground, picking up the pieces that had come off of the dress and holding them close to your heart. You felt like Anna and Drew were destroying your whole world, taking it down brick by brick. When they learnt a weakness or a potential threat, they would eliminate it immediately.

You heard the clanging of metal, and turned your head to the left to see your bike which was being vandalised by Drew, who was madly hitting it with a large metal hammer. You crawled towards her, screaming at her to stop but Drew wouldn’t comply, not until the bike was damaged beyond repair.

One of the only things you’d ever been proud of, your spare time flushed down the drain in a matter of seconds. You stood up and bravely faced your two stepsisters in the eye, who were observing the surrounding chaos with satisfied looks on their faces. A black limo pulled up on your driveway, and the two walked off, only stopping when they heard you yell.

“Why me? Please! What did I ever do to you? All I’ve ever done is be nice to you, why do you hate me?!” Your voice was raw from the crying. The stepsisters looked back at each other, trying to come up with a response.

“Because you ruined our lives,” Anna spat at you, before grabbing Drew’s hand and pulling her away, leaving you to stand there and sob. Your knees collapsed beneath you with grief.


You sat in your bedroom, trying to collect yourself. Your mothers dress was placed under your sewing machine which you would have to fix later. You had managed to clean up the rest of the house which had helped in taking your mind off of the party momentarily. However, you now sat on the edge of your bed, reflecting on what could have been.

Maybe you should have reached out to someone, anyone who would listen. Like Jughead…

You just wished you had your own fairy godmother right now.

Suddenly, you heard a knock at your front door. This was strange, as nobody ever came to this house except the milkman and the postman. Your sisters were too embarrassed to share their address or invite anyone round, as you would likely be there. If it was your stepmom, she wouldn’t knock. She would barge in the door, yelling and shouting. 

Cautiously, you opened the front door, peeking out into the night. You were surprised to see two girls, two girls you recognised. Veronica Lodge and Betty  Cooper, who were both wearing matching black and white dresses, with perfect makeup and sympathetic smiles on their gorgeous faces. 

“We saw the bike, saw your sisters and put two and two together,” Veronica sighed. You bit your lip, not sure what to say, but Veronica had practically invited herself in and enveloped you in a hug, followed by Betty. 

“You don’t have to tell us anything, but we won’t sit here and let them get away with ruining your night,” Betty smiled, brandishing a box. Inside the box was a makeup bag, a pair of white embellished platform shoes, a black and white halter neck dress with black lace on the top, and the best parts, the accessories. A split down the middle, black and white mask. The white side was embezzled in sequins and feathers, whereas the black side was decorated with white swirls and fake flowers. Intricate floral patterns danced around the edges of both sides of the mask. On top of this all was the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. A silver chain attached to what looked like a jewel encrusted ring, lined with a gold rim. More tears appeared in your eyes.

“Sorry if none of it’s really you, it’s all we had,” Veronica laughed nervously but you jumped on the two girls with another hug, except tighter.

“You didn’t have to do this, it’s all so beautiful….” You felt yourself choke on your words. 

“Honestly it’s-” Veronica began,

“Nothing” Betty finished, linking her arm with Veronica affectionately as they giggled at one another. 

“Don’t let these people ruin your fun, you gotta go out there and get your man!” Veronica beamed, resting her head on Betty’s shoulder as Betty nodded encouragingly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Betty and Veronica simultaneously rolled their eyes with a ‘tut tut’, exchanging glances.

“Jughead silly!” Betty spelt it out for you and you felt your face turn red all over again. “Yes! I knew it!” Betty exclaimed excitedly.

“I ship it!” Veronica and Betty squealed in a sing-song voice. You buried your face in your hands, but tried to laugh it off.

“I don’t even know if I can pull this stuff off guys. Honestly, it’s all so beautiful but it would probably look nicer on yo-” You began but the girls help up a finger in unison.

“Don’t even start with that crap. You are such a pretty, strong woman! You’ve been through all of this by yourself and you never even had to! You are going to own this party whether Cheryl Blossom gives a fuck or not,” Veronica retorted, and you grinned excitedly. 

The girls helped you redo your makeup, as you confided with them about your situation. It felt so good to get everything off your chest. They were so much more relatable than you expected and you honestly hoped that this wouldn’t be a one-off friendship. 

You were ready and dressed, hair done in a lace braid, necklace secured, feet comfy. All you needed now was to put your mask on. As you slipped it over your head, you felt a surge of confidence and power. This was finally your night, and you were going to earn it. 

“Look at what we’ve created Ronnie,” Betty danced around your room with Veronica excitedly. Your sisters had left to help set up the party earlier, so it’s not like you guys were even late yet, and the others were very excited. Suddenly, you felt the nerves rush back. What if they couldn’t get you in? If Anna and Drew knew you were there they would personally skin you alive. Veronica noticed you tense and she crouched beside you, resting her chin on your shoulder and sighing.

“In this mirror, I see a beautiful, young, independent woman who is currently discovering herself. You deserve this night (Y/N), it’s not enough just to dream these kind of things, you gotta finally step out of your comfort zone and live it up!” She shook you playfully and you laughed. This was your chance.


The ride had been fun, Ronnie had her own limo which she had managed to secure for the evening and you had picked up Kevin Keller on the way there, who played a huge part in settling your nerves with his gay humour. 

Veronica, being an influential person had also managed to get you into the party and you hadn’t even seen Anna and Drew so far.

Turns out that being anti-social for so long wasn’t a good trait to have in massive social events like parties where everyone knew each other and had plans for the evening. You felt out of place, and everything you dreamt of had faded. It was intimidating, all these masks practically trying to outshine each other. You lost your new friends in the sea of people and hadn’t found them since. You had managed to gain a lot of attention during the night though, which you were not used to. 

You currently stood pressed against the wall, drinking the non-spiked punch and avoiding the dance floor. Suddenly, you made eye contact with someone else pressed agains the wall. Probably someone that you would recognise in a festival crowd. No matter where you were you could pick him out. His crystal blue eyes and distinctive grey beanie which would not go off for any event. His raven haired curly locks which stood up at the back of his neck.

Your night (Y/N)

Feeling a surge of confidence, you kicked off of the wall and stood by him instead.

“Do I know you?” He asked almost instantly. Obviously everyone knew it was him from the beanie, and nobody would voluntarily come stand by him, it just wasn’t a thing people did.

“Not yet,” You let out a small chuckle, surprised at yourself. Your voice was deeper, perhaps even seductive. You sounded powerful but your stomach was whirling with butterflies as the boy gave a moment of silence to take you in.

“How mysterious,” He smirked back. Jughead’s mask covered a very thin surface area around his eyes, and was simply pitch black and made out of card.  He clearly tried very hard. “Student at Riverdale?”

“Are we playing a guessing game now?” 

“I guess,” You couldn’t really tell from the flashing strobe lights and intense atmosphere but you swore you could have saw him blushing.

“Yes, I am a student at Riverdale,” your heart thumped. There were obviously tons of students at Riverdale but you couldn’t help but get this overwhelming feeling that he knew it was you. Maybe Jughead felt the same way? You bit your lip, thinking about how you just wanted to be at a comfortable home with this boy right now. Like his house, because your house was simply hell.

This boy practically was your home, he made you feel safe and wanted. Although he didn’t even know this was you right now, you were just there for entertainment as he had nobody to speak to. If he knew who you really were, he would have left a long time ago. 

No (Y/N), your night! Have some faith in yourself!

“Have we talked before?” Jughead asked again, you paused deciding how you wanted to word this so that it was truthful but not too obvious.

“I expect so,” You played it off and you heard him grunt, causing you to let out another hearty chuckle.

God he loved that chuckle. It reminded him of (Y/N)

Hmm.. (Y/N)

Jughead looked up at the mysterious, elegant beauty behind the mask. He thought of (Y/N) and how suddenly an idea popped into his head. But she was so shy… it was just his biased mind because he had a cr- no, it was worth the ask.

Suddenly a slow song played over the speaker, and people paired off onto the dance floor. The two of you stayed against the wall until you were the only two left. You’d love to dance, but there wasn’t much space left and you wanted to dance freely with flowing motions. Jughead practically read your mind, as he bravely took your hand and lead you out onto a balcony, before placing his hands on your waist as you wrapped yours around the back of his neck, leaning into him and taking in his gentle scent. 

You slowly moved side to side, resting against him, only properly moving when he would twirl you around gracefully. 

“Do we have classes together?” Jughead murmured. You nodded your head dazily and he chuckled at your sudden tired mood, spinning you again. He let out a hmm in mock thought, causing you to weakly giggle. “Have we been project partners before?” His voice got quieter and more gentle. You paused, the swaying slowing. “Yes” you whispered against his jacket, clutching it tightly in your hands.

From inside, you could hear the song coming to an end but undisturbed, the two of you continued to dance. A comfortable silence swept over you as he twirled you one last time before stopping, his mouth coming closer to your ear and you felt Jughead’s hot breath on your neck. 

“Do you like English class?” He whispered gently into your ear and you felt yourself tense. Suddenly the loud chiming of a clock from above you caused you to break apart with a jump. He didn’t make it obvious that he knew, but it was the skittishness that made it clear who his mystery girl was. Your heavy breathing, turned into breathy laughing with Jughead before suddenly your whole body went rigid and your face paled.

“What’s the time?” You whispered, your face struck with horror. 

“Midnight, that’s what the chimes are for,” Jughead moved closer, his hand reached up to cup your cheek but you stumbled back, your hand flying to clasp over your mouth. You were trying to hold back sobs of fright.

Your stepmom would be home. She would kill you if you weren’t there and you didn’t exactly mean figuratively. She would beat you until you’re bloody, skin you alive and then eat your flesh in front of your own rotting carcass. 

You muttered hurried apologies before racing towards the balcony door. You had to sneak back home somehow, you had to get away. This should have never have happened. People like you don’t deserve these special nights, these special people. Your heart was thumping out of your chest as the adrenalin pumped through your veins

You let out a yelp of pain as you realised your necklace was stuck in your hair. You ripped it out, not caring that it fell to the floor. You didn’t even bother to pick it up, kicking off you heels and chucking them at Veronica as you ran away from the dance floor, from the party, from the mansion… from Jughead.


“Got it,” Drew smirked nastily, as she hit the stop button on the recording of you. She’d filmed the last minute or so of your dance with Jughead and your sudden departure.

“Mom would totally believe she stole all of that crap, including the necklace. I mean she must have. There’s no way that street urchin can afford that shit,” Anna sighed, “Did she honestly think that someone like her would fit in here? We’ll show her,” She clicked her tongue in satisfaction, before dragging her sister with her out the door.

Little did they know that they weren’t the only ones snooping on conversations. 

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Jughead clasped the necklace in his right hand, Veronica and Betty standing angrily behind him. 


It’s 2am I’m so dead. This was kind of rushed, I’m so sorry <3

Let me know if you want part 2!
ALSSSOOO: thank you to @mrs-jughead-jones for being there whilst I wrote this and getting annoyed at Apple autocorrect with me.

@satanwithstardust helped approve the ideeaaa because she’s bae. 

Riverdale TAG LIST: @theselfishllama

Rough Around the Edges

upperstories submitted: 

Climbing up six flights of stairs was a pain.

Climbing up six flights of stairs after driving what felt like thousands of miles without stopping for anything but gas and coffee wasn’t much better.

But climbing up six flights of stairs with a bad knee, three exhausted bundles of living ink clinging to you like a lifeline, and going on nothing—no real food or water or even a bathroom break—but sheer grit? Downright impossible.

Henry Ross cleared it in half his usual time.

He didn’t care how late it was, how much he ached or how much he wanted to just curl up next to the chipped floor molding and become comatose, he was not in the mood for any of his neighbors catching him as he was. He just thanks god his doorman, a short ruddy-faced man named Patrick, had fallen asleep at his desk before he’d snuck in, like old Patty always did after 11:00 PM.

“644, 645—646,” said Henry, stopping to catch his breath.  “Here. This is it.”

He could feel Boris, Alice, and Bendy collectively sigh in relief, wilting like lilies in the hot summer sun.

Boris was fairing what seemed like the best of them; hand on Henry’s shoulder for balance, but with enough of his druthers to stand upright without help. Alice clung to Henry’s left pant leg, leaning heavily, her black eyes barely open, and not at all complaining when Henry used his free arm to help keep her steady. Bendy, for all his intents and purposes, hadn’t left Henry’s grasp since the studio, tucked against his left side with his face half buried in the old animator’s collar. Henry was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep at least 3 times on the way—he had one hell of a loud snore for a shorty. He hadn’t asked to be put down once, but Henry did not complain. It had been a long day for all of them, but Bendy had had it the roughest—which was saying something, as Henry had learnt that hard way that being turned into a living cartoon was no picnic.

“What’s the plan, Henry?” said Boris, catching Henry off guard.

“Plan is, uh,” Henry mumbled, fumbling with keeping Bendy and Alice from toppling over while he fished for his keys. They weren’t in either of his pockets… where were they?

“Get inside, go to bed. Try to sleep and…” He sighed, “I don’t know, come up with a better plan in the morning.”

“Works fer me,” Bendy muttered, not even opening his eyes.

It was then Henry noticed a small shimmer along the door’s upper frame. Bracing Alice as best he could, he reached up and ran a hand along the top of the door molding and caught something metal on the far corner. Of course. Right where he left it.

“Henr—ry?” said Boris, muffling a yawn behind the back of his hand. “That, uh, don’t seem particularly safe there, leaving yer key where someone can find it. What if someone tries breakin’ in?”

“Not to worry Boris,” said Henry, smirking to himself sardonically, “I doubt anyone would find anything of mine worth stealing…”

The lock gave a rusty clunk, and Henry shouldered it open.

The sound of a rickety radiator and the smell of old newsprint, a faint burnt wood-like scent, and cardboard greeted them along with the faint sting of old alcohol. The light of the hallway cast a thin orange glow into the otherwise pitch-black apartment. Henry couldn’t remember feeling so relieved to see color, faded and muted as it was.  He ushered everyone in and quickly shut the door behind them before trying a light switch. It flickered twice before dimly glowing weakly, barely any better than the hallway light. With a small fzzt!, it went right back out.

“Great,” Henry grumbled. It took a bit of blind stumbling, but he managed to reach a tall lamp next to the couch and switched that on instead. The bedroom was cast a pale light, giving everything a pale bluish tint. “Gonna need to replace that.”

Alice and Boris blinked in the sudden light, Bendy preferring to just keep his face buried under Henry’s chin.

“Well, uh,” Henry said, eyebrows creasing as it seemed something very apparent dawned on him. He tried his best to smile, but only managed a wince and he half-heartedly motioned to the living room. “Here we are. Home sweet home.”

The light made it easier to take stock of just how messy the man’s apartment really was. A quintessential bachelor pad, with bare walls, sealed and opened boxes alike strewn everywhere, bookshelves decorated with everything from empty whiskey and beer bottles to unfinished model ships—and pretty much everything except for books. Dirty laundry littered the floor, waste bins sat overturned in the corner. The kitchen looked almost unused, save for the stacks of pots and pans stuck to the grimy stone tops, and piles of unread junk mail and bills sat on the kitchen counter, unsorted. The couch looked about as comfortable as a sack of potatoes, the green fabric a shade greyer than when it was first bought.  One of its legs was held up by an old phone book.

A thick, sturdy easel and stool sat out of place in the corner, next to a far window, unmistakable in spite of a tarp covered it. Stacks upon stacks of blank newspaper leaned against the corner behind it, book-ended by empty sketchbooks that looked hardly handled. A stray sheet of sketch paper poked out from under the tarp, the off-white paper marred with frustrated, uninspired scribbles of charcoal.

Henry was suddenly acutely aware of Alice and Boris’s stares. He coughed.

“Sorry about the mess,” said Henry, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down, “I don’t, uh, get guests all that often.”

“S’alright Henry,” said Boris, voice no longer tired. His ears had pulled back, eyes downcast as well. “We don’t mind it.”

“S’not like we got anywhere else to be,” Bendy mumbled, peaking up. “Even if it is a pig’s sty.”

“Bendy,” said Alice, sharply.

“Any port in a storm, huh?” Henry shrugged, smirking ruefully. “Alright, alright, everybody to bed. We can worry about this mess in the morning.”

He didn’t need to tell the Toons twice. Henry herded them into the next room, which was surprisingly less musty than the den. There were still more piles of boxes strewn about, sure, but the desk next to his bed was only slightly disheveled, and bed looked well made. Almost as if Henry never really slept in it… or used his bedroom at all.

He led Boris to one end and helped him strip the covers to climb in. Afterwards, he lifted Alice up onto the mattress. Up next was Bendy.

“Alright, short stuff, time to get down,” said Henry, leaning down for Bendy to easily fall onto the mattress. Which he did not. “C’mon, I need my arm back at some point.”

“Can’t here yah, I’m asleep,” said Bendy, pretending to snore, clinging all the tighter.

It took a couple of attempts, but he finally managed to pry Bendy free from his side, his arm practically all pins and needles from the tight hold the little demon had on him. In spite of the little devil’s petulance, Henry gently set him down next to Alice and gave his arm a slow pinwheel stretch. He ignored Bendy’s pointed, pouting glare, clearly not liking being rudely stripped from his warm perch. The fact that a draft ran along Henry’s apartment didn’t improve things much either.

“It’s cold,” said Bendy.

“I know. Sorry,” said Henry. He shouldn’t feel this guilty. “It’s all we got for now.”

The apartment was small, the circumstances messy, the bed a single, and tomorrow looked big and uncertain… but it was all Henry had on such short notice. He only got color back a day ago; he could worry about living conditions later.  

Tomorrow. He could worry about it tomorrow.

He motioned to tuck them in and—stopped himself when Bendy gave him a look.

Why had he moved to do that?

He rubbed his neck and stifled a yawn with his knuckles.

“I’ll be in the den if you need me,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling very foolish.

“You’re not staying here?” Alice asked. Boris looked surprised as well, but Bendy ignored all of them and crawled under the sheets, pointedly looking away from Henry. Something about that stung, just a little.

“Not enough room for all of us on there, Angel,” said Henry. The stinging didn’t go away. He’d gotten them all out, hadn’t he? He brushed it off. “But, uh, I’ll leave the door open. You can bug me for anything.”

Alice nodded, but she looked like she wanted to say something else. Henry waited… and she just followed Bendy, tucking herself between the demon and the wolf without another word. Boris gave Henry a little wave, but didn’t say much more before his head fell back on the pillows. Within seconds, he was snoring up a storm along with Bendy, Alice silently snoozing between them.

“Thing’s’ll be better in the morning,” he said, half heartedly. He wasn’t sure if he was talking more to them or himself. “Promise.”

The Toons said nothing.

Henry trudged to the couch, every inch of him feeling almost as heavy and war-beaten as when he returned to the States from the Front. As he turned off the lamplight, he only hoped sleep would come to him as easily as it had the Toons.

In spite of a million thoughts churned in his mind, clicking like giant cogs. The studio, Bendy, Boris, Alice, Sammy, Joey, their escape, the look on Bendy’s face and the strange ache it left in his gut. Or maybe he was just tired from all the running and the fear and the coffee. Henry pushed it all down, too tired to think, and fell face first onto the lumpy, familiar couch. His arm was left dangling over the side.

Sleep fell over him like a thick, lead curtain. Like a flood of inky black.

***

Henry awoke from a nightmare, and for a moment he thought he was still dreaming it.

He couldn’t remember much, except there had been whites and grays and something about sheep—or was it the 3 little pigs and the big bad wolf?— and a big, empty black void collapsing on top of him.  A faint whine broke through the void, someone’s whine—was it his? When his eyes snapped open, all he saw was black, and his heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

He was back. He was there. Back in the studio. Escaping had just been a wonderful, hopeful dream and he was still there he was going to die there and the Toons Were In Trouble—!

But when Henry bolted upright, he felt the familiar lump fabric of his couch, heard the familiar sound of taxi’s speeding by his building in the horrible early hours following midnight. He even welcomed the musty smell of newsprint and old beer. He wasn’t in the studio. He was safe.

And the Toons—

Henry leapt to his feet and bolted for his room in two easy strides. The door was open. And in the bed.

They were there. Safe and sound. Their silhouettes were easily recognizable, even in the faint moonlight and the faraway streetlamp light

Boris was leaning halfway out of the bed, tongue poking out and lolling to the side as he snored, his feet jutting out comically from under the covers over the end board. The blanket looks uncomfortable small on him. Alice was breathing deeply, her face twitching occasionally from deep REM, but otherwise looking peacefully saint-like. Her halo was crooked and looked dangerously close to falling on her face, disturbing her sleep. Bendy was silent, facing away from Alice and…

He softly whined.

Henry was at his side in a second. Had he woken Bendy up with his frantic flailing in the next room?

No, Bendy was still fast asleep, his face scrunched up tight, hands balling up the blanket and comforter in bunches, hogging it and pulling it away from Boris. A droplet of ink dribbled from his temple, staining the large pillow they shared.

Bendy was having a nightmare.

Without thinking, Henry reached for his pocket and pulled out a grey-stained handkerchief. Praying he didn’t startle the Toon awake, he gingerly mopped the loose ink from Bendy’s forehead. Bendy flinched away, curling tighter into himself. The little devil suddenly seemed very small.

Henry quietly shushed him and continued mopping up his clammy forehead, swiping it in long, gentle strokes. Slowly but surely, Bendy’s hands began to unclench, his brow starting to dry. His face refused to give an inch, his whines only becoming more anguished.

“….mmm…jo….ey?” Bendy breathed.

Henry’s chest seized. He lost his voice, but only for a moment.

“Nah… no, half pint,” said Henry, all the gruff and bite leaving it as he spoke softly to the little devil. “S’just me.”

A pause. Bendy shifted, shut eyes seeming to relax a fraction. “….old m’n?” he muttered.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s old grouchy me,” said Henry, wanting to laugh. “Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

“…stay’ere th’s time… kay?” said Bendy. His face finally relaxed.

Henry stopped mopping.

All at once, Henry faintly remembered something very striking. Something very specific. When he was a young lad, he’d become sick with pneumonia, and despite all his aching and griping and being a pain, his mother had dropped everything— work, her book club, volunteering at the library— to sit at his bedside for almost a whole three-day weekend. It had almost made up for being sick while school was out. And while he was sick, she read him stories. Treasure Island and Huck Finn. He never remembered thanking her for it, but he did remember drawing James Hawkins fighting Captain Long John Silver. She’d tacked up his drawing on the fridge with a green magnet and never took it down. She smiled for weeks on end after getting that gift.

He thought about that memory— that old smile she had where the edges of her eyes crinkled at the edges, and her teeth shown and she wheezed out a quiet laugh.

Seeing Bendy go back to slumbering peacefully, he could only wonder… Had this been how she felt while he was growing up?

A tightness settled in Henry’s chest and a whole different ache fell over on him. It wasn’t an entirely new realization, one he’d been grappling with ever since Boris had shakily asked Henry if he really meant they’d all escape with the animator. Ever since he’d found Bendy blindly running from his own solemn doppleganger. Ever since He’d told Bendy that he was his own story’s protagonist.

He was responsible for these three now.

Now, that wasn’t to say that Henry was irresponsible. He was a hard working, a dependable man of routine, and could even come handy in a pinch. 

But this was different. This was new. This was terrifying.

He was an old, bitter man. No living family left to speak of. Well on his way over the hill. Never had a thought in his mind about marriage or kids of his own, often only keeping his focus on staying alive, both during and after the war. Hell, he never even thought he’d set foot near an animation desk again before heading off to see Gabriel’s pearly gates (if he was that lucky). And yet, here he was, with three cartoons dropped in his lap. Who probably wouldn’t be able to handle living in the real world yet. Who probably shouldn’t be sharing a tiny bed in the middle of a run down apartment on the ass-end of a filthy city.

What could an angry old man with a tiny apartment and hardly anything to his name do for them?

“mmm… h’nry?” Bendy whined. Henry snapped out of his quiet, rising panic, stifling a yelp.

“S-still here,” he managed, feeling his voice crack.

“good…” Bendy relaxed against the pillow, completely at ease. Completely trusting.

The tightness in Henry’s chest finally unfurled, and his eyes felt a slight sting. He covered his mouth to muffle a deep, shaky sigh. Bendy had complete and utter trust in him. Was that a good thing? Did Henry deserve it? In spite of all that had happened these past few days, he suddenly didn’t feel so sure.

But… this was his chance right? He was supposed to figure things out now, wasn’t he? He felt so unprepared, like he’d been thrown out in No Man’s Land all over again.

But then again… this wasn’t like the war. Or the studio. Things were on his turf. If anyone should’ve felt like fish out of water, it was the Toons. He was the one with the knowledge of how the real world worked, how colors looked and how real sunlight felt on your skin.

He had to be there for them. He was going to be there for them. 

They were all he had now. 

Feeling more tired than ever, Henry stood from his seat as quietly as he could. He quickly grabbed Alice’s halo, just before it could teeter another centimeter and drop onto her nose, and after giving it a quick polish with his handkerchief, he set it on top of the bedside lamp, perfectly centered. He set to work on the blankets, adjusting it to be spread out evenly between the three of them— he left Boris’s feet sticking out, finding the silly sleeping position suited the wolf— and tucked them all in. It wasn’t the best, rough around the edges, and the blanket was lopsided. But Bendy re-curled around, snoring softly and facing Alice. Her head lolled, and she in turn nestled comfortably atop Bendy’s horns. Boris snuffled and licked his snout before settling more deeply against the pillow. They all seemed to just… fit together. Like puzzle pieces.

Henry felt that unfurling feeling return, and he quickly wiped his face.

Despite being exhausted, he hardly felt like returning to the lump couch. He returned to Bendy’s side of the bed, and took a seat. He knew his neck and back were going to kill him tomorrow, but he could worry about that later. He had more important matters to worry about.

Like making sure the other three got the best-damned night’s sleep they ever got. He wasn’t about to let their first night in the real world be a sorry one.

Tomorrow was going to be the roughest day of his life, and yet, somehow, he couldn’t find it in him to mind it.

I AM ACTUALLY SITTING HERE WIPING TEARS FROM MY EYES, GIRL

THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.  I LOVE THIS.  I LOVE THIS SO, SO MUCH; YOU HAVE A LOVELY WRITING STYLE HOLY SMOKES.

Hookup

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 5,531

Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving) fingering, this is PWP

Prompt: Sam meets up with the reader at a bar, and neither of them want to go home alone. Both their jobs require them to move around a lot, and sometimes, they get a little antsy and crave the affection of another person. That leads them to Sam’s motel room for one night of pure fun.

You didn’t want, or even need a partner to settle down with. You had grown used to being alone and working alone and doing just about everything alone. But, a girl gets antsy from time to time.

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dirty water // fratboy luke

hey guys! it has been ages since I wrote something, literally like a year so apologies if it is rusty lol (also title may change i just can’t think of anything rn rip)
description: you have just started at the same university as your brother Calum and he has made it clear to his fraternity brothers that you are off limits. that doesn’t necessarily mean you, or any of the boys, will abide by his wishes. 

word count: 3,155 :-)

“And now I have to walk all the way to his frat, just to get them,” you huffed, tugging the laces of your Nikes tighter as you sat on the edge of your bed. The white comforter crinkled as you shifted your weight to put on the other shoe.

“You want me to come with you?” Your roommate Jasmine asked as she lay in her bunk, laptop opened to her most recent biology lecture notes.

“No it’s fine, it won’t take me that long. I just don’t want to do it,” you laughed, standing up.

“Fair enough,” Jasmine laughed, turning her attention back to her notes.

“Dinner when I get back?” You asked, a hopeful look on your face. Jasmine nodded, pressing the home button on her iPhone,

“Mae should be back from class by then.” You pumped your fist in the air,

“Yesssss, I’m famished.” Jasmine just laughed and shook her head as you pulled the door shut behind you.

Dressed in leggings and an oversized t-shirt you started your trek across campus to Greek Row. Your older brother Calum had borrowed your car the past weekend to go on a little hiking excursion with his frat brothers. His justification was that your car handled better in the mountains and back roads, but you knew he was just jealous of your Jeep Wrangler. Nevertheless you let him borrow it and now he was making you walk to his frat, Phi Kappa Psi, to get the keys, rather than bringing them to you. Classic.

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3

Born on 25 February, 1979, Brian Shaffer often dreamed of becoming a doctor. He earned a bachelors degree in microbiology before becoming a medical student at The Ohio State University College of Medicine. 2006 for Brian wasn’t off to a positive start. In March, his mother, Renee, passed away from myelodysplasia. The cancer killed Renee within a space of a few months. Spring break was fast approaching and Brian was planning on flying out to Miami with his long-term girlfriend, Alexis Waggoner. He was preparing to propose on this romantic getaway.

On 31st of March, 2006, Brian and a group of friends decided to go on a bar crawl. At approximately 1AM the following morning, as the celebration was in full swing, the group went to the Ugly Tuna Saloona, a popular and lively seafood restaurant and bar just around the corner from the South Campus Gateway complex. CCTV footage captured Brian entering the bar. However, he was never witnessed leaving. As the night rolled to a halt, Brian’s friends couldn’t find him anywhere. CCTV footage from the two separate exits was reviewed but he wasn’t seen leaving either door. In fact, every single person in attendance was seen entering and exiting the bar but not Brian. So, where was he?

As Monday rolled around, Alexis had hoped that Brian would show up at the airport to catch their flight to Miami but he never appeared. A missing persons poster was designed and distributed. It contained a photograph of Brian’s Pearl Jam tattoo on his upper right arm as well as facial photographs. As the investigation was underway, the friends that were with Brian that fateful night were asked to take a lie detector test. The majority complied, however, one friend, Clint Florence, refused, leading to much speculation that he may have been involved. Over the forthcoming months, Alexis continually phoned Brian’s mobile. Each time, it went straight to voicemail. However, in September, it rang three times. Nobody answered the phone but police were able to ping it to a tower in Hilliard, a suburb 14 miles from Columbus. This was the glimmer of hope that Brian’s loved ones needed - maybe he was still alive.

There have been countless theories as to what happened to Brian. One man who referred to himself as “Jesus” told Brian’s father, Randy, that he had been killed by two men after an assault: “When Brian woke up, he had a big black penis in his mouth. They shot him in the head, burned his body and had sex with his ashes,” he claimed. Thankfully, it was determined that this was a hoax. Another theory is that Brian never actually left the Ugly Tuna. Could he have been a victim of foul play and could his body still be hidden within the bar, stuffed into an empty beer keg.

Tragically, Brian’s father, whose motivation to uncover the truth as to what happened to his son never faltered, went to the grave without knowing the truth. Two years later, he was hit and killed by a falling tree. In the space of three months, Brian’s brother, Derek, was left without a mother, a brother, and now a father. Brian Schaffer still remains missing.

Edible Arrangements

(Hilly knows a couple things as a tadpole. He knows there’s probably a lax bro hitting on him, and that Bitty’s super-secret boyfriend may or may not be a middle-age lumberjack sugar daddy.)


Hilly knows a few things about Samwell’s hockey dynamics. He knows he is a tadpole; he initially expects to be hazed to the ground and forced to eat dog food or something like his roommate, who is currently rushing a frat. He expects the Haus to be dirty and filled to the brim with red cups and sticky floorboards. He also knows not to hang out with the lax team because Ransom and Holster said so, even though a cute boy who he thinks is from the lax team winked at him in his Intro to Anthropology class. He knows that NHL’s very own Jack Zimmermann, son of ‘Bad Bob’ Zimmermann and legendary hockey extraordinaire, is a Samwell alumni, and had slept in the very room which Chowder, their goalie, currently inhabits.  

But Hazeapalooza turns out to be nothing as bad as he expects (he even gets homemade pie out of it, even if Holster gives him the side-eye). And the Haus is cleaner than a sports frat house should be. The hockey team is nice (and surprisingly socially aware) and Hilly likes Samwell fair enough, but he misses home sometimes.

But Bitty makes things better. Hilly likes Bitty a lot. He likes hanging around the Haus and watching Bitty roll pastry dough with a practiced, methodical hand because it reminds him of how his mom used to bake cookies for him and his sister. Bitty doesn’t mind too much (he thinks) that Hilly may want to go on a date with a lax bro. Bitty bakes him peach cobbler with crumbles toasted a golden brown and talks about his family’s jam recipes. Bitty is open and warm and welcoming. However, the one thing Bitty doesn’t talk much about is his boyfriend.

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Proximity (00)-Prologue

Prompt: Sebastian meets his newest neighbor and immediately finds her to be an interesting and genuine person. Before he knows it, he’s developing feelings for his much younger friend that he tries not to act on because of their age difference, only the proximity of their lives has other things in store for the couple.

Warnings: some language

A/N: Here is the prologue to the new Sebastian series I’m starting. Please let me know what you think. I hope this is something you’re all interested in.


Proximity (01)-My Place at Six, Proximity (02)-Just My Neighbor, Proximity (03)-Forty Percent, Proximity (04)-Writing My Goodbyes, Proximity (05)-If You Want, Proximity (06)-OblivionProximity (07)-IDFCProximity (08)-Last Night, Proximity (09)-Boo at the Zoo pt.1, Proximity (10)-Boo at the Zoo Pt.2, Proximity (11)-Girlfriend 


New York City was a much bigger place than (Y/N) had imagined it would be. She had been living in the city since she started her undergraduate degree but had been staying in a dorm throughout most of those years. It wasn’t until she contemplated continuing her education in graduate school that she actually decided it was time to find an apartment. She didn’t want to be one of those people in her early to mid twenties living in a dorm filled with eighteen and nineteen year-olds away from home for the first time in their lives. After searching endlessly for a descent place in a nice neighborhood and then a nice place in a descent neighborhood, she was given the opportunity to teach undergraduate survey level English courses at her university while she completed the department’s graduate program. With the extra source of income on top of her part-time job at the bookstore, she was able to afford rent on a nice place in a nice neighborhood; there was just one small problem.

For a steady month an a half, at the same time every night, without fail, the person who lived above her watches Netflix on a volume so loud it should blow the person’s eardrums out. At first she tried to ignore the inconsiderate individual above her, then came anger and she started poking at the ceiling with a broomstick or standing on a table and pounding her fist against her ceiling. After anger comes a long stint of passive aggressiveness where she would turn her TV on equally loudly or blast her music until she can’t hear the person above her anymore, but this only lead to people coming to her door and complaining about the volume of her electronics, which lead her to the most rational way to handle her problems.

Aggravated, (Y/N) stood in a pair of loose jogger sweatpants and a cropped shirt that didn’t expose any of her midsection. She was comfortably tasteful and would soon regret her choice of schlump clothes. Her fist pounded against the door, begging to be heard over what appeared to be prerecorded audience laughter. She quickly folded her arms over her chest and started tapping her foot, her impatience growing by the second. Just as she was about to bring her knuckles to the door again, she heard heavy footsteps making their way toward her.

The door crept open to reveal a tall man with thick brown hair and eyes so bright they outshines stars. “Can I help you?” a low, articulate voice flowed from the apartment and toward her ears.

“Um, hi,” she stated in a rather unsteady manner. Oh, fuck! That’s Sebastian Stan, her mind shouted as her eyes gapped at the man in front of her. “I’m (Y/N), I just moved in below you–” the man immediately nodded his head and offered her a small smile.

“You’re here about the volume aren’t you?” he grumbled with a laugh.

“Guilty,” she muttered in response, trying not to draw too much attention to the fact that her heart was pounding in her chest.

“I wish I could tell you there was something I could do about it, but I lost the remote and it’s one of those stupid new televisions that don’t have any buttons,” he sighed.

“How dare technology make TV buttons obsolete!” she scoffed, earning a small laugh from the she had admired from afar for so long. “If you have a smart phone I can show you how to program your phone to act as a TV remote.”

“Even if I have a Samsung TV and an iPhone?” he asked.

“Yes,” she chuckled, “even then.” Smiling, he stood aside and allowed the door to creep open even more.

“Please, come in,” he said with a warm voice. “I’ve gotten complaints from everyone around me already. I figured that the person below me would be next.”

“I tried to just ignore it, then I started to try annoying you by doing the same thing, but that just got me yelled at by my neighbors,” she admitted as he unlocked his phone and handed it over to her. She quickly downloaded an app to fix all of their problems and synced it with his television. When she handed it back to him and pressed the volume buttons to test her skills, he couldn’t help but laugh at himself.

“I would never have thought to do that,” he sighed. “Thank you so much, (Y/N).”

“It’s no big deal…” she paused, not sure if he had mentioned his name in passing or not and definitely not wanting to seem like a creepy stalker.

“Sebastian,” he hurried to fill in the blanks.

“It was not a problem, Sebastian,” she finished, not being able to control the blush rising into her cheeks.

“How can I repay you?” he quickly asked as she shifted on her feet.

“The silence is a gift in itself,” she couldn’t help but joke as another adorable smile slid across the man’s lips.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Um, no?” her voice inflected upward as he stared down at her with a breathtaking smile.

“I just ordered a mountain of shrimp fried rice and some take-out—would you like to join me? It’s the least I could do.” She hesitated, not wanting to shoot down his offer entirely, but still wary about the dark realities of the world.

“I could be a serial killer,” (Y/N) stated with a playfully dry tone in her voice.

“I’m pretty sure that female serial killers make up less than one percent of the population so I’ll take my chances with that,” he laughed.

“So do women who score INTJ on the Meyers Briggs and yet you’re talking to one.” She couldn’t help getting cocky. In a normal situation, she would be retreating back to her apartment by now, curling up in bed and eating Chinese food alone but since when is accidentally realizing Sebastian lived above her normal? Conversing with him seemed almost second nature to her, as if she had done this before and they were old friends catching up.

“I can’t force you to eat Chinese food and watch Parks and Rec with me, but I can say that it would be fun,” he said with a smirk on his face. (Y/N)’s heart started racing; is…is he flirting with me right now?

“You’re watching Parks and Rec tonight? Hell yeah, I’ll stay,” she smirked at him as he grinned and shook his head at her while laughing.

“Tonight? What do you mean tonight?” he huffed through his fake insulted expression.

“I’ve been here for almost two months and you’ve yet to actually binge watch a single show,” she accused.

“That’s because I lost my remote, remember,” he said with a laugh as he waved his phone. She couldn’t help but smirk as his large blue eyes widened from their banter. “Are you in or not?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I don’t want to impose on you and your home,” she stated more honestly and her timid nature returning.

“I promise you, (Y/N), it would be a pleasure.” Something about his voice and his smile made it impossible to turn down such a generous offer and she agreed. 


Five episodes into Parks and Rec along with their mutual hunger and agitation toward slow delivery led (Y/N) and Sebastian to enter a state of friendliness neither of them really reached upon knowing someone for roughly two hours. Maybe their more outgoing natures were the result of drinking a few beers on empty stomachs, or maybe it was a connection between the two that neither of them wanted to address that made things like awkward conversational pauses and the occasional difficulty they each faced in starting a conversation disappear.

“Gosh damn it, Sebastian!” (Y/N) huffed as Sebastian flopped onto the couch beside her dropping his heavy legs onto her as she sat cross-legged on the couch. He couldn’t help the loud chuckle that escaped his lips. “What’s so funny?” she grumbled and narrowed her eyes playfully at him.

“You curse like Robin in the nineteen sixty-six Batman movies,” Sebastian continued to laugh as (Y/N) shoved his feet from her lap. “Golly Gee Willickers, Batman.”

“Oh, really,” she huffed and tossed a decorative pillow toward the man across from her on the couch. “Shut the fuck up! How’s that for cursing?” Sebastian continued to laugh at her as her eyebrows narrowed in on him and her lips pursed.

“I think you just don’t look frightening enough,” he said while turned his body to face hers. 

“And you’re so menacing,” she huffed with a smirk, glad to see his goofy grin still plastered on his face. Just as he was about to pull a blanket over his feet, there was a knock at the door. “Finally, our food!” They called out. (Y/N) jumped and followed him to the door, lingering in his kitchen as he opened the door to tip the delivery driver. A huge gasp caught her attention and she quickly turned toward the men in the doorframe.

“You-you’re Captain America’s best friend!” the man’s voice was slurred as he stammered his statements. “You’re Sebastian Stan.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and she turned her back to the door in hopes that she could pretend she hadn’t heard what just happened, only to hear the door click closed behind her and Sebastian’s deflated voice engulf the room.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he said as he passed by (Y/N) to place each of the containers of food on the coffee table.

“Does that happen a lot?” she asked quickly trying to play it off.

“More than I’m comfortable with,” he sighed. “Why, are you going to start acting weird around me now?” She could see the apprehension in his eyes as he waited for her answer. Of course at the beginning of the night she thought it was weird to just casually hang out with your favorite celebrity, but she knew that making it weird would cause the situation to not exist, which she didn’t want to happen.

“Why would I start acting weird around you?” she asked while quickly filling up her bowl with fried rice and vegetables.

“Because I’m Sebastian Stan and that’s apparently a big deal,” he sighed, conflicted that her knowing who he was would hinder whatever friendship was forming.

“Slow down there,” she said as she tried to swallow a mouthful of food. “Not everything’s about you now. Remember who you’re talking to: less than one percent of the population.” (Y/N) felt the corners of her lips curl into a smirk as Sebastian smiled across the couch at her.

“That you are,” he said in a low sultry tone he had hoped she didn’t hear. (Y/N) was truly a genuine person and he was thrilled to have met her. Her ability to make him feel like just another guy, someone without millions of Instagram followers, someone who’s life isn’t constantly under a microscope, someone normal is something he had been looking for in another person for a long time. For a while he thought he could find that solace in another person in his field of work. Surely they would be able to understand the crazy life he lived and want the same things in a partner: stability, generosity, a grounded sense of mind. Unfortunately seeking romance with another actor only furthered the media exposure of the relationship rather than allowing them to have their own lives with one another.

“Besides, I knew who you were the second you opened the door.”

“Well someone is a stalker,” he teased through bites of rice.

“You know who else is a stalker?” she asked in reply, causing his eyebrows to move individually—one up and one down.

“The delivery guy?” he questioned while staring across the couch at the girl who sat with her knees up on her chest, resting a bowl between her knees.

“Serial killers,” she said and then winked. “Maybe living beneath you was all apart of my plan.”

“I’d gladly have you beneath me,” he said, intending to sound menacing and creepy but instead coming across as horny and creepy. “Fuck! That’s not what I meant!”

“That was a Freudian slip if I ever heard one,” (Y/N) started to laugh as Sebastian nudged her with his foot beneath the blanket they shared. He knew that it was much too early to be thinking of romance with the girl that came up to his floor to yell at him for his broken TV, but the feeling in his heart as the pair tossed their banter from one person to the other was so light hearted, like the onset of puppy love turning into a crush. 

There was something about (Y/N) that was so open and kind that he knew he could trust her, despite her constant joking about being a lunatic, and he held onto that feeling the entire night until it was time for her to return to her floor and go to bed. “Wait,” Sebastian called as he hurried toward (Y/N) who was standing at his front door. He quickly shoved his phone into her hands and said probably the lamest line intended as flirtation in the history of love: “You know, incase I need someone to watch my house.” Thankfully she was understanding and kind enough to put her number in his phone and quickly text herself from his device before going back to her apartment and turning in for the night.

As (Y/N) curled up in bed, she heard a steady thud! thud! from above her and then her phone lit up with a message.

Seb Stan: That was me!

Trying not to laugh too loudly, she grabbed a prop light saber she got from Disneyland years ago and stretched her arms toward the ceiling of her bedroom, hitting it with the base of the prop.

Cute Neighbor: I know ;)

Happy Fucking Birthday To Me

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: You and the Winchesters go out for Sam’s birthday. Dean goes home with a woman at the bar, and quite frankly, it pisses Sam off.

Word Count: 892

Warnings: drinking, cursing (as implied by the title), suggestive looks/thoughts, implied birthday smut.

A/N: Written for @scarygoodfanfics‘s Sam Winchester’s Birthday Challenge. My prompt was “Stop talking and kiss me already.” It’s bolded in the fic.


Originally posted by berezneva12

“[Y/N]!” Sam came barreling through the bunker, down the hallway toward your room. 

“What!? Jesus, Sam. What?” Poking your head out of the bathroom door, you spoke through a mouthful of toothpaste.

A towel was wrapped around your hair, another wrapped around your chest, barely covering your freshly cleaned figure.

“I… I um…” He stammered, taking in your almost naked form. 

“Spit it out, Sammy.” You tucked yourself back into the bathroom and spit the foam into the sink. 

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I Got You

Word Count: 1904

Pairing: Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of a car crash, drugs, alcohol, abusive relationship, fluff at the end don’t worry 

Request by Anon: Can I request a Tony x teen daughter one where she lives with her mom. She kept her hidden from Tony for 14 years. Tony finds out about his daughter when she got sick and ended up in the hospital. He also finds out her mom was horrible to her and kept her in poor living conditions. So he shows up at their door with a lawyer and papers to find her doing drugs with friends and his daughter locked in her room. He takes her home where she feels safe for the first time

Author’s Note: Yay I finally got another request done! Sorry for the wait end of the school year is always fun. Anyway hope you enjoy it :)

Masterlist


Originally posted by fuckyeahtonystark

You never liked hospitals so you tried to stay far away from them as possible. If you did get sick you would suck it up for a few days until your illness passed. Though, as fate would have it, you ended up in the building you hated. You were taking a cab home when a car pulled out too quickly hitting your side of the cab. No major injuries but you needed surgery to repair a ligament in your leg that tore in the crash.

Your mom, however, didn’t have that kind of money or at least you though she didn’t. When she instantly had enough money, you grew curious. Your mom could never hold a job for long and the jobs she did find weren’t high paying. When you asked her, she just brushed you off telling you that this was a discussion for later. You knew too well that she wasn’t going to bring it up unless she had to.

So now, here you were sitting in your hospital room alone while your mom goes out and parties with of few of her friends. Ever since you could remember, your mom always put partying before you. She rather get drunk or high with a few of her stoner friends than ever care about your well being. You couldn’t just leave even if you wanted to. Though she was a pain in the ass, you had nowhere to go. You never met your dad and he was probably just as bad as her.

What dampened your mood, even more, was that fact that you had to keep off your leg which meant you were trapped with your mother. You sighed sadly flipping through tv channels wishing you didn’t get in that cab so you wouldn’t be in this situation. Zoning out a bit, you didn’t notice someone was knocking on your door until you saw someone pop their head it.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” A woman said as you sat up if your hospital bed.

“Yes,” You answered quietly trying to figure out who this lady was.

“I’m Mrs. Reynolds and I work with social services. I wanted to talk to you privately, your mother has already been informed.” She said as your blood ran cold. They were going to take you away and put you in the foster care system - something you did not want to end up in. “Miss?”

“O-Oh that’s fine,” You began clearing your throat, “What do you need to talk about?”

“Your mother recently reached out to your father when you needed surgery and he would like to meet you. He’s a persistent man so he’s currently waiting outside of your room. I wanted to make sure you were ok with this before I send him in.”

You stared at the women blankly as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. Your father after fourteen years wanted to meet you. You always wondered what he looked like but your mom never kept any pictures of him. She didn’t even tell you his name after asking her many times. But here you were about to meet the man you always thought about. Nodding quietly you prepare yourself for the worst as Mrs. Reynolds leaned out into the hall summoning him in.  

You expected a nobody, someone who either had no idea you existed or just now realized he made a mistake. But your were dead wrong, instead walked in someone you immediately recognized. It was Tony Stark, Tony freaking Stark. Your mouth dropped in shock as you stared at the man claiming to be your father.

“So (Y/N) right?” He said sticking his hands in his pockets unsure what to do next.

“Wait is this a joke? How? I mean, I know how but it’s been-”

“I know fourteen years. To be honest I didn’t know you existed until your mother randomly called me asking me for money.”

“Oh,” You quietly said trying to process everything.

“How’s the leg? I heard it wasn’t serious but surgery is surgery.”

“It’s ok,” You answered unsure how to act around Tony.

Watching him sigh, he walked closer to bed trying to think what to say next. He seemed just unsure of you as you were of him. You didn’t know why he even bothered to come, he missed most of your life already and now after one phone call, he’s here. Still, you were grateful he actually was a good person than some druggy who couldn’t get his life together.

“Look I know this is awkward,” He sighed looking at your uncomfortable posture. “But I don’t want to leave this room and not see you again.”

“Me too.”

“Well then let’s start this off right,” He spoke excitedly extending his hand out to you. “I’m Tony and your name is?”

“(Y/N),” You replied with a small smile on your face.

And that was a start to a new beginning.


Three months later you were still visiting your father often but instead of taking a cab there, he made his driver Happy take you to him. After the cab incident, he made sure you didn’t have to ride with anyone else but Happy. Life was good for the most part, your mother was the same but you could tell she didn’t like you hanging around your dad.

He was pretty clear that she wouldn’t get a dime out of him unless it was for you. Once she heard that, she started taking her anger out on you. Your mom still had full custody and every night she would threaten to stop you from seeing your father. You had to beg her just to go see him even if it was an hour or two, just to get out of the house and away from her.

You wanted to tell your dad what your mom was like but you knew he didn’t want to fully adopt you. He was an Avenger and billionaire, he didn’t want some kid ruining his style. So you kept your mouth shut and enjoyed the time you had with him. That, of course, didn’t make this easier on you at all.

“W-Where are you going?!” Your mother slurred as her friends started to snort random drugs. “You know I don’t like you leaving when we have guests!” She was definitely high from whatever she was smoking. Your mom couldn’t function like an actual person when she was like this and that scared you.

“D-Dad’s,” You whispered as her face turned to rage. “I-I’m sorry I-I’ll go back to my room.” You ran quickly as your mother continued to scream from behind you. Slamming the door, you quickly locked it as she banged loudly against it.

Sending your father a text that you couldn’t make it because of homework, you slid down to the floor trying to calm your breathing. Eventually, the banging stopped but you were too afraid to move from your spot.  


Tony sighed reading the text you just send as he ate a handful of blueberries. He had a bad feeling that something else was happening back at your place. He knew your mother and she wasn’t as stable as she thought she was. Though he couldn’t just take you away from her, she still had full custody. This was something that he was going change.

He called a lawyer down beforehand to try to get custody and today he was going to ask you if you were ok with him proceeding with it. Tony was going to try and ask your mother first before trying to take this to court. He was even ready to offer her some form of money just to get you away from her.

You never mentioned how horrible your mother was to him but he had a feeling when you kept showing up with a few bruises every now and then. So when you said you couldn’t make it, he knew something was definitely wrong. Without even thinking, he was out the door with his lawyer ready to finally get you away from that hellhole.

Even after three months, he never actually saw where you lived. Happy always picked you up a corner farther away from your house. Your apartment was definitely not what he expected it to look like when he pulled out front. Some windows were boarded over while some were just broken. The roof looked old along with the cracked brick covering the apartment complex. Walking into the building was whole other story.

The smell was awful and you could hear bricking a few doors down. The wallpaper was peeling and the ceiling was littered with water stains. Tony knew more than ever, that he needed to get you out of here. When he arrived at your door, he knocked only for the door to slightly open. Pushing the door open and walking into the apartment, he called out to your mom.

When he got no answer, Tony walked further into the room, only to find your mom and her friends passed out surrounded by empty beer bottles and drugs. Without even glancing at his lawyer, Tony watched as his friend pulled out his cell phone to contact the police. Now all was left to do was find you and get you out of here. Stepping over a few bottles, he made his way over to the hall where he heard a few sobs coming from behind a door. Realizing that was you, he tried to open it only to find that it was locked.

“Leave me alone,” You whimpered. 

“(Y/N), it’s me. Open the door,” He said hoping nothing happened to you.

Tony heard shuffling behind the door before he heard the lock quickly turning. Then the door flew open as you jump straight into his arms. You started crying harder finally letting out all the emotions you bottled up. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he made sure you felt safe.

“Shhh, I got you, I got you.”

Once your breathing calmed down, you wiped your tears away before hugging your dad once more. “M-My mom,” You hiccuped as tears started to form again.

“Don’t worry, I got her taken care of. Let’s go back to my place ok?” He said as you nodded following his lead.

Once the two of you were back at the tower you were still shaken up but you managed to calm yourself enough to explain what happened to your father. He knew you didn’t want to cause any trouble but you were clearly not in a good environment.

“You’re not going back there,” Tony said feeling the anger boil in him. “I won’t let you, that women will not be coming near you again.”

“But she still has full-”

“Not for long. I have my best lawyers working on it, she won’t come near you again. And after than stunt she pulled today she won’t have a case.”

“Really?” You asked as he nodded. You smiled widely as you jumped up from your spot and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, dad. I glad I tore a ligament that day.”

“Me too kid, me too.”

At the end of the day, you knew your father was there for you and would project you no matter what. After fourteen years with your mother, you finally felt safe and found a place where you could call home.


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Meet Me Inside - Part 6

Part 5 | Masterlist |  Part 7

Relationship: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You really wanted your last year to go without a hitch so you could finally get your Masters degree. But then Professor Barnes walks in to your lecture. And he makes it a whole lot harder to focus.

A/N: Oof this is rough. Sorry lol. HUGE shoutout to @poe-also-bucky for helping me through this one. I was ready to delete everything lol you’re a sweetheart.

Warnings: Language, mentions of dream

Words: 1838

Originally posted by damnirvine

Of all the people you would ever have expected to see tonight, Professor Barnes was the last person you’d have guessed. But life is a fickle bitch. And so that is precisely who you have the fortune to meet.

And is if that wasn’t enough, the moment you lay your eyes on him, images of his lips pressing against your skin flood your mind and you look away immediately.

Fuck fuck fuck this is the last thing I need.

“You’re hilarious” Steve deadpans as Barnes comes to stand beside him before Rogers introduces him to the group. “This is Professor James Barnes, although I know some of you have the misfortune of being in his classes” Rogers smiles at you and trying to casually return the gesture is difficult when you see Natasha look at you from the corner of your eye.

Steve turns to order drinks for the group and Nat waits till there is enough chatter amongst the group before asking “So what did Rogers mean by that look?”

“What look?” you try to act unfazed. It doesn’t work.

That look. How did he even know you’re in his class?”

A loud guffaw from one of the guys breaks you both from your hushed conversation and you’re secretly relieved. You hadn’t told Natasha about Steve walking in on Bucky flirting with you and the more time that passed, the less likely it seemed that you would delve in to that specific event. You weren’t sure if it was because you were embarrassed by what happened or if talking about it would just make it all the more real.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

60. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me" with harry please❤️❤️

here it is, sorry it took me so long i hope you like it 💕

Originally posted by worldstyles

I was having a small get together at my place to celebrate Harry’s single coming out and his appearance on SNL, all of us still buzzing with the excitement from seeing the show in person. Everyone was drinking and talking about their favorite parts of the night, and praising Harry on his accomplishments so far. He had been grinning all night, and I was sure his cheeks probably hurt from it. Even so, his smile never faltered, not even for a second.

Seeing him perform on his own for the first time was honestly amazing. He looked right at home on that stage with his band. Throughout his performances he would look over at me and I’d smile, and he’d smile back, and it seemed to calm his nerves a bit every time. He had been extremely nervous all week, being that he had to perform two new songs and be in skits. 

It was after rehearsal one day, which I had been the only one of Harry’s friends to be invited to attend, that I had saw him kind of staring off. He had something big on his mind. I walked up to him, breaking him out of his trance.

“Oh, hey,” He smiled slightly, still a bit out of it.

I chuckled. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” He waved me off, putting his guitar down on its stand and turning back to me. “Just thinking about stuff, is all.”

We sat on the edge of the stage, our feet on the stairs as it got quiet. After a while, Harry spoke up.


“I’m so damn nervous, (y/n).” He sighed, looking around the place. It was so empty when the band and other crew had left, Harry and I the only ones out where the main stages are.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be, Harry. You’re going to be amazing Saturday. You and the band are ready for this.”

“I know they’re ready,” He said as he messed with his hair. “I just don’t want to let them down. What if I fuck up or something? It’s live all across the country.”

“You’re not going to fuck up,” I told him.

He looked at me. “How do you know?”

“Because I believe in you. And I know how talented you are. This is a huge moment for you, and I know you’ll be amazing. You always are,” I assured him.

He searched my face, then looked away, playing with his rings absentmindedly. “Thanks, (y/n). I really appreciate you being here and supporting me all this time.”

“It’s no problem,” I wrapped my arm around his and lay my head on his shoulder. “That’s what best friends are for, right?”

He sighed, then said, “Yeah, I guess so,”
  



“My favorite part of it, hands down, was Harry as Mick.” Niall said, everyone agreeing.

“He absolutely crushed it,” Liam added.

“I loved the soldier skit,” My friend, Remy, spoke up. “It was so hilarious.”

I looked around at everyone, then realized that the topic of the conversation was no where to be found. I got up, leaving the now intoxicated group and looked around, not seeing any trace of him until I noticed the back door wasn’t closed all the way. I walked out, then saw Harry sitting criss-cross by the pool, two empty beer bottles next to him.

“You weren’t thinking of jumping in, were you?” I called out, startling him a bit.

“Oh, uh.. no.” He chuckled nervously.

“Good,” I said as I made my way over to him, sitting beside him on the concrete. “Because you’ve been drinking, and your outfit cost over six thousand dollars and is dry clean only, so I don’t think it’ll do well in chlorine.”

He laughed slightly, then said, “I was just thinking, is all.”

“About your performance? Because it was incredible, you did so well. Just like I knew you would.” I complimented.

“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have gotten through this week if it wasn’t for you,” He confessed. “It was kind of odd being alone, but it felt right at the same time. And it’s crazy how much people like the music I’ve put out already… It makes me more confident knowing that they actually think it’s good and it’s not just me thinking it’s alright, you know?”

“Oh absolutely,” I nodded. “I knew how much everyone was going to like it when you played the album for me the first time.”

He chuckled again, pointing at me. “You did go on about that,”

It got quiet, the sounds of crickets and the pool filling the air. Then, Harry spoke up again.

“But I was also thinking about… um… there’s this girl, and… I really like her. Well, I’ve liked her for a long time, and I’m too afraid to say anything to her about it. I just don’t want to ruin things, you know? Like, what if she doesn’t feel the same and things get awkward between us?”

My heart sank a bit, hearing that Harry liked someone. Mainly because I was sure it wasn’t me. We were best friends, he probably thought of me as a sister to something. Which would make things extremely weird, considering I loved him more than a best friend would. I wanted to be more than best friends, but he wanted that with someone else. I pushed my feelings aside, then gave him advice.

“Honestly harry, I have no idea what girl in her right mind wouldn’t be interested in you. I mean, you’re handsome, smart, funny, charming, caring, extremely talented… Not to mention, I’m pretty sure you’re the sweetest guy to ever live, so.”

A big smile grew on his face, like the one that usually appears when he’s about to make a joke or pick on me. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

I gave him a confused look, both of us laughing. “I think you’re mistaking me complimenting you so you gain enough confidence to ask this girl out already, for me seducing you? They’re two separate things, just saying.”

He scoffed, acting like I hurt him. “So you didn’t mean any of it, you were just trying to inflate my ego?”

“Of course I meant it,” I rolled my eyes at him. “But if it happened to make you gain a bit of confidence too, then I did my job.”

He smiled at me, then looked at the pool again. “You really think I should go for it?”

“Absolutely,” I confirmed. “And if she turns you down, then I’ll have some choice words for her.”

He gave me a look. “Hm, I didn’t peg you as the type to curse yourself out like a mad person.”

I giggled at him, then realized what he just said. I was the girl he was asking me for advice about. I was the one he’s liked for a long time. He actually liked me back.


“Holy shit,” I gasped. “You did not just pull the ‘talk to a girl about how you like someone but it’s really her’ move.”

“Yeah, I did,” He laughed. “I know, it’s lame and cliché, but did it work?”

I looked into his eyes, thinking about pulling a joke on him, but his cute and contagious smile caused me to smile too, so I decided not to. “Luckily for you, I’ve liked you for a long time too. So yeah, it did.”

He brushed my hair behind my ear, then leaned in and kissed me.

The door opened, Harry and I turning to see Niall standing there, a smirk on his face. He looked back into the house and said, “See everyone, I told you they’d be out here making out, you all owe me a beer.”

     
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