Parenting Mistakes

I think all the talk about participation trophies is bs, mostly because I saw in real-time how Conservatives in the US constructed the myth in the 80s and how it has always been used to attack both the idea that children should feel good about themselves about anything other than pushing around and policing other kids, and the idea parents should be good to their kids; while promoting the idea that kids were properly property that parents ought to be able to treat however they damn well please with zero outside intervention. But also because I frankly never saw the damn things to begin with. I saw plenty of trophies, and all the ones I saw were given out for perfectly sensible reasons, visibly appreciated by the kids receiving them.

BUT, having said that, I DO think there is a certain well-intentioned tendency in the parenting of securely middle-class parents (can’t speak to other classes because this is the only parenting I ever saw) of the Boomer and X gens that had some unintended negative repercussions, and that is the tendency to play down mistakes.

Let me lay a scene:

A child is doing something and they make a mistake. They say to their parent “I’ve made a mistake”. Now these parents, interpreting Dr. Spock’s advice through their own experiences of(almost invariably) having been raised by real assholes whose idea of “parenting” was mean-spirited insults and physical abuse and even worse, respond to this by doing the exact opposite of what they’re parents would have done, they Negate it. “No, NoNo,” the parent says, “it’s fine, it’s Fine! You’re doing perfect :)”

Now, what the parent THINKS they’re doing in this situation is building the child’s confidence in their abilities. What they are REALLY doing, though, is teaching the child to doubt their own ability to assess situations, and particularly their own performance. The child had an idea in their head of how things should have turned out, likely based on instructions. Things didn’t turn out that way and maybe they also realize they didn’t follow the instructions correctly. So they say, based on the evidence, “I made a mistake”. Yet the parent -from a place of kindness!- tells them they didn’t. So they learn that their judgement is flawed. Is it any wonder that kids constantly exposed to this grow up to be perfectionists, to NEED to know they’ve done everything possible in their minds to make something right because they can’t trust how they think or feel about it, who always ask for the opinions of others, particularly superiors, on how their work turned out before moving on?

Instead, I feel like they should have responded like this:

Kid: “I made a mistake”
Parent: “You think so buddy?”
K: “Yes”
P: “Why do you think you made a mistake?”
K:”Because of this.”
P: “Hmm, could be. What do you think you did wrong?”
K: “I think I did this wrong. I was supposed to do THIS, and I did this instead.”
P: “Hmm, well, that makes sense. But Even though you made a mistake, that doesn’t mean everything’s messed up.”
K: “It doesn’t?”
P: “Nope! We can fix it *optional head ruffle* :] *proceeds to troubleshoot the problem or start the project over again with supervision, to avoid the mistake together*”
-End Scene-

This is just as positive, affirms the child’s judgement, teaches them to pay attention to and think critically about their feelings and thoughts and actions, and it shows them that mistakes aren’t this terrible and shameful thing to be avoided, but rather normal, everyday obstacles that can be overcome with dedication, a calm mind, and thinking things through.

There is an alternate to this that is worse. The child, while doing the project, is confused about something and asks for parental advice; the parent says “do it this way.” This way doesn’t work out, and the child says “I made a mistake” or “I did this wrong and it didn’t work”(because, of course, it’s a very rare child who will say to a parent “your advice was wrong” from the get go). The parent then says, “No no; it’s fine, it’s Fine; it’s perfect: Everything is Perfect, you’re just worrying about nothing, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

This is worse because, not only does it do all that the first example does, but it also teaches the child that the parent expects to be treated as if they’re omnipotent and incapable of making mistakes. This has a whole host of other, terrible, repercussions all its own: the child now feels responsible for their parent’s emotional state, they will be anxious over questioning the parent in other, possibly more urgent, situations, they will learn that one shouldn’t admit mistakes and errors leading them to react negatively to them -and moreso to being called on them- in future, and it will make it difficult for them to question authority figures generally, since humans naturally conceive of authority figures through familial/parental metaphor.

And of course, both bad -but well meaning!- responses put the child in a position of having to argue for their mistakes and flaws, against your “defense” of them as something they can never be: a perfect person. AND of having to go against your position if they want to repair the mistake to their liking. These are really shitty positions to put anybody in, let alone a kid.

I mean, I get the impulse, I really do, and obviously there are much worse things parents can do to their children, but it’s really no surprise that a gen raised this way would display the perfectionism, self-doubt, preference for outside input, difficulty finishing projects, and anxiety over performance in formal settings that so often get associated with Millennials.

Imagine waking up to a loud noise in the bunker

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 300ish (just a blurb)

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: I wrote a blurb based on a picture (below) of my cat, who can be an evil little thing

Warm. Comfy. Tired. You were laying in bed next to Dean, thinking everything was perfect, just about to fall back asleep, when a huge crash from the library forced both of you out of bed, guns in hand.

You moved quickly and quietly, knowing the only advantage you had was the element of surprise. There was no telling what was in there–your guns might not even work.

As you approached the library, you heard more rustling, as if there was someone–or something–going through books or papers. You and Dean stopped just short of the doorway and glanced at each other before entering, weapons in front of you.

Every book that had been on the tables was on the floor. The bottle of whiskey that had been left open overnight was broken on the floor, the dark liquid spreading. And right in the middle was…

“That damn cat,” Dean said. “This is why I shouldn’t have let you talk me into getting one. Cats are demon spawn.”

“Aww, she’s not that bad. Look at her!”

Her eyes were wide, as if she had no idea knocking everything off the table would make such an awful noise. But in those innocent eyes was a gleam of pride–she knew just what she was doing.

“She’s not fucking cute, she spilled the whiskey!”

You walked over to the mess and cradled your cat in your arms. “She’s purring.”

“Yeah, she’s real damn happy with herself. Little demon.”

Dean sulked back to your room while you held the little kitty. “It’s okay baby, don’t listen to him. He’ll come around soon enough,” you told her in a high-pitched voice. “He’s actually really sweet. Now let’s clean this mess up.”

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Finish it [Spencer Reid]

Words // 3907

Warnings // None

Summary // Y/N had always written some of the best Doctor who Fanfiction around and on a boring afternoon Spencer discoverers these fanfictions.

A/N // The intro can be a bit long but I liked the idea of a different kind of introduction, also I was unsure how to end it so that might feel a bit odd as well. Honestly, the idea of the fanfictions being written is one i’d like to do because nine deserved better and a longer run but i don’t know if I’d be able to write that. Also, there might be small pronoun mistakes because I changed it in the middle of the story from they to she.

Originally posted by hisirishsoufflegirl

Fanfiction. It was an odd thing but slowly and steadily becoming far more popular with people in dire need to have more of the thing she started to like or get obsessed with to only find that some fanfiction writers are objectively better than normal writers, other read it with the hope to find these writers and others just wanted a quick fix of her obsession.

Fanfictions were continuously being seen as a more professional thing, just creative writing and not mocked to just teenagers. The quality of fanfictions was starting to get better and because he had gone through every book and didn’t feel like rereading one, he gave it a shot.

What Spencer didn’t expect is to find a complete series of four different fanfictions following an alternative eight doctor as he didn’t really have the longest run time, it was complete and perfect. The Doctor had a distinct personality which changed over time because of the various events that happened, the various companions he had travelling along with them who had a personality yet weren’t just that, she felt like proper people who are 3 dimensional and not just a stereotype. Everything was just perfect about it, the enemies were clear yet always well developed and some of them were made to sympathize with them and that happened easily, all the history was accurate and the neat future didn’t seem too much like fiction. He finish it rather quickly, as usual, but decided to reread them all a few times and he was almost tempted to just accept this as having happened.

The series had finished in 2006 and when he read the last chapter for the first time said that because of very popular demand she would write a series either with a whole new ninth doctor or changing up a few things, making it a series like she did with eight but editing it rather heavily, she promised to keep the personality and backstory of there being a time war but change companions, the stories and everything else to make it her  own version of the ninth doctor.

Of course that went just as crazy as her first series did, a lot of people were praising it and wondering why said person wasn’t writing for Doctor who yet which he admitted he wondered to, her  stories were solid and somewhat better than the new ones being published as tv episodes in his opinion only the difference is this was just free on the internet compared to a tv production with a budget of a certain millions.

The worst thing was when it ended, it ended in the second ‘season’ of her  new ninth doctor, the fourth ‘episode’. It ended with a small author’s note promising it’ll be updated eventually but the simplicity was that the writer just had a few issues and her  work was piling up so she just didn’t have the time to properly plot out the stories and to make them the same quality as she had always been and there it ended, four years ago.

A few people were commenting that the writer got a job at BBC but most were right to say that if someone spent so long writing these series and planning them out so long they’d likely announce that she couldn’t work on this anymore as she got a job writing shows which seemed to definitely be her  aspiration but that didn’t happen, just nothing.


“What’s he been doing all day? I’ve never seen him on his phone this much.’’ Y/N commented as she and Garcia were eating a lunch behind Y’N’s desk. Both of them had noticed that Spencer was spending an awful long time behind his phone lately and Y/N was rather curious as to what he was doing but felt slightly like invading privacy if she would ask, a phone is a very personal thing which Y/N knew from experience.

“I may have been snooping around a bit and surprisingly, it’s all fanfiction. Y’know like all the people writing Ten x Rose, yeah it’s also all Doctor who. I have to admit, read some of it myself and for someone to come up with all of that is amazing. Like, it’s better than some episodes now and to be able to come up with that, just a whole different doctor with three seasons , sort of, and have most of it be well made to perfect it’s amazing.’’ She said and Y/N nodded absentmindedly.

“I know you wrote it.’’ Garcia whispered and Y/N stared at her, taken back.

“I mean, it’s so good and you just stopped! I had to look around so I did some snooping, IP addresses and old habitants of the apartment. Knowing that you’re far more knowledgeable about Who lore than any of us it wasn’t that hard to reach conclusions, also literally around the same time you got accepted by the FBI. It’s not that hard. Still, you need to continue.’’ She said both loud and silent but no one seemed to notice it too much or hear it completely and Y/N was quite relieved by that. She had to admit she were proud of what she had written, she still had a massive binder filled with her  ideas and the plots for everything she wrote and still wanted to write, how she wanted the Doctor to progress, what casualties would come and which victories. Y/N was the first to admit she took it a bit too far but at the time she didn’t have much else to bring joy to her  life or to invest her  time in so she did it with writing very serious fanfic.

“You know I can’t, how am I supposed to find the time to write chapters around 25 thousand words whilst we’re flying into every state every other day, when I just got accepted I could barely keep up but now it’s ten times worse with everything we need to do so I just.. I can’t do it anymore, I just don’t have the time for it.’’ Y/N admitted honestly because she definitely didn’t have the time for it anymore, ever since her  last update she had written out the idea for the next story and plotted out the progression and the villain but planning was very different than putting every single second into words and expressing thoughts and the emotions she were feeling.

“I just, I don’t want to force you but you’ve written better stories than the writers now, just give it a shot.’’ Y/N sighed and turned back to her computer.


“Pretty boy, you’ve been on that phone for twenty hours already. What could you possibly be doing so long?’’ Morgan asked. The team had solved a case yesterday and Y/N had been trying to create some moments so she would write a bit and after some power sessions and a bit too much coffee she finished two chapters or as she liked to refer to them, episodes. She were around the length of a doctor who episode in terms of what happens and words but could take a longer while to read as she squeezed in a lot of thoughts as a way for herself to remember who her character was again and to write him properly.

“Reading.’’ Spencer said with a shrug.

“Of course.’’ Morgan chuckled and Y/N did as well before turning back to her  screen and starting to write out some prompts as a quick way to get some ideas flowing for how she want and who she want the villain to be as she had an idea of how the episode would progress but decided to discard the painfully cliché villain she wrote out.

“He’s reading yours.’’ Y/N glanced up at Garcia standing beside her  desk, she eventually admitted she would continue to write it and Garcia had been stellar and demanded every first draft before it was finished and Y/N obliged, it was nice to at least share it with someone like her who was so excited about Y/N her  work, it was always nice to have some feedback and see that people liked it as usually Y/N just did it and hoped people would like it.

“Why do you even know that?’’ Y/N countered with a slightly amused smile.

“I have the whole digital world at my finger-tips, he’s been leaving surprisingly positive comments and I think you should maybe tell him.’’ Garcia hinted and Y/N rolled her  eyes, for the reason that Y/N was a definite whovian and she and Spencer shared quite a lot of things so Garcia was immediately convinced she should get together or alike.

“Oh shut up. That you know is already enough.’’


A few weeks passed after Y/N had stared to update her  fanfiction again, she did enjoy it but it was starting to get more difficult as more cases after another arose. In those cases she also noticed she were getting surprisingly close to Spencer, before there was a mutual feeling of friendship over different sci-fi things and sharing somewhat similar interests but everyone’s been noticing the two growing far closer.

Morgan had been pushing Reid just a bit, more than just a bit as literally everyone would say, which eventually made him decide that his advice wasn’t even that bad and Morgan had a lot of reason to say that the fact that Y/N wasn’t with someone was already a miracle. And so he mustered up some courage and asked them out and it went surprisingly well.

Y/N was surprised but at the same time not, she worked with profilers and was a profiler after all as well so it wasn’t that hard to eventually see and that was it, she went on a date or two and to neither it felt much different except that it was far more intimate and both of them had taken a liking to that, both deciding they’d try to keep this going, whatever it really was.                                                                                      


It was just too tempting, after a sudden revival of his favourite series and definitely somewhere in the top of his Doctor who seasons, even though it wasn’t a proper season he counted them as seasons, to ask Garcia who was writing it. She would knew without a doubt or would find out in a few seconds and even though he, at first, thought of it as wrong he couldn’t help himself anymore.

So he asked and stood there for a while whilst she worked on finding out and she found it within a few seconds, using an old IP address where most of the chapters were updated from, she determined an old location and found old habitants and crossed the list with habitants at the new IP address and found one person to be the match, Y/N L/N, his colleague, his significant other/

For some reason he just didn’t expect it, he honestly didn’t know what to expect when it came to who wrote it except someone who either was a professional or aiming to be one, yet Y/N never let on any signs of being or wanting to be a writer, maybe she didn’t want to be a writer but just picked it up as a hobby which seemed just as logical

Of course Garcia was stellar to find out and immediately went to seek her, she actually just went to the toilet as she had known it for a long time already but had to not act suspicious and so she left. He was unsure what to do but he was very determined that no matter what he wanted them to continue and finish he story as he never read anything of fiction that was so good.

It just seemed weird to him that Y.N had been writing his favourite story all the time whilst he was likely watching some show with them or the two were cuddling and she took a few notes in her  phone. Then again he was happy that he discovered who is writing it and quite happy that he knows them more than very well.


“What’re you writing?’’ Y/N her head snapped up at Spencer’s commented and in response she minimized the word document she was working on, something that had become an awful habit of hers.

“How do you know I’m writing?’’ She responded.

“You’re typing and just had a word document open, I don’t think you’d be drawing in that.’’ She chuckled and he sat down beside her, she let the document stay closed. Y/N was comfortable with a lot of things but her writing had always been her way of expressing herself creatively and just her thing and even though she was convinced she could share anything with him she just didn’t want to share that part, yet.

“Will you tell me?’’ He asked with puppy eyes which he knew were one of her weaknesses. He didn’t want to outright say he knew she wrote his favourite series as he still felt slightly guilty about how he found out but decided that maybe if he could make her say it herself than he could start being honest how much he loved it and otherwise he’d have to ask Garcia for effective ways to drop hints.

“Maybe, maybe not. What do you offer in return?’’ She asked curiously and he thought for a moment but honestly couldn’t come up with something good and she laughed, leaving him slightly dumbstruck.

“I’ve never seen you think this hard and I think that’s quite the achievement. Either way, I.. I’ve never shared my writing with anyone so I.. I uh don’t want to show you but to oversimplify it, it’s a doctor who fanfiction. Y’know what that is right?’’ He nodded fully confident and she curiously raised an eyebrow, whilst she didn’t necessarily not expect him to know about it she didn’t think he’d be this confident in it.

“Read a bit?’’ He nodded.

“A few, there’s a really good series about an eight doctor rewrite as if he had a proper series instead of well, you know. You’re the last person I need to explain.’’ He said with a slightly awkward chuckle but relaxed once he noticed Y/N blush, she didn’t mention it was her fanfiction but by now it was clear as water and she must’ve realized it as well and he decided it was somewhat safe territory to start dropping some hints.

“Yeah, let’s stop talking about this and eh.. maybe cuddle? I’m feeling tired.’’ He happily obliged.


Y/N was up late consuming a little too much coffee, for once Spencer had gone to bed early and she was staying up late with a lame excuse of paper work because she just wanted to finish the chapter she had been working so relentlessly on and she just couldn’t quit, she had learnt very quickly she could always write but her best moments were when she got so deep in it and was just writing for hours with little to no pause, it was like a flame which she just had to keep fuelling for results and she always did no matter how bad it really was for her, she just had to keep going.

The last dot at the end of the line and she was finished. She hunched back and let out a sigh, she let herself fall sideways down on the couch and put her laptop down on their coffee table, they had moved in quite quickly after getting together simply because it was at the end of the month so Y/N would save a month of rent.

She quickly drowned the cup of coffee and went over to put the mug in the kitchen sink, after she closed her laptop down and set it aside and let herself sprawl over the couch for a while just to calm down her brain as she was finally finished after a very hard labouring session. She smiled happily though; she got done what she wanted even though it was far later than she had anticipated.

“Y/N, what are you doing up?’’ Y/N her body snapped up and saw Spencer standing in the doorway of their living room, his hair even a worse mess than it was sometimes during the day and he wore a slightly too small shirt which Y/N particularly liked.

“Just.. Just finished a writing session.’’ He turned on all the lights and Y/N her eyes hurt, she had taken solace in a very dim laptop screen and a small night lamp on the dining table to provide her light but all the other lights in their apartment were so much lighter that it slightly hurt her eyes but luckily she got adjusted rather soon and eventually stopped the endless blinking to adjust.

“Bit late for writing sessions isn’t it? It’s 3 am. We need to be in at 7 am tomorrow.’’ Y/N shrugged, she had done much worse in the years when she was alone and no one told her that it might be useful to stop when the clock turned 5 and the sun started o rise again so her body could handle some abuse, although she herself also had to admit it didn’t do it that well anymore.

“Doesn’t matter,’’ She waved it off and he rolled his eyes. “I’ve done worse. Now, c’mon let’s get back into that bed I had grand plans.”


Y/N sipped her coffee as she sighed, she had been working on the chapter for what felt like forever and she knew it kind of was her own fault, she kept erasing whatever she wrote and revisiting every sentence ten times before moving on and likely half of the time that she looked at that sentence she changed it up.

It was just writing the end, that was the worst part of it. She had a draft of the script or all the speech she wanted in it yet she couldn’t just get herself to finish it for no reason but laziness, she assumed that but she honestly was unsure what it was, all she knew that was nothing worked.

She decided to do something completely different and pulled out her phone and started to text some of her friends if they wanted to hang out, she had bad tendencies of ignoring her friends whenever she was focused on writing and was happy she still had some healthy relationships outside her work, work didn’t count as she spent most of her days there so it was kind of very hard to ignore them.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t allowed to do something else but writing just an hour ago?’’ Spencer asked as he walked inside and shut the apartment door. She shrugged and for a second wondered ow he knew she wasn’t writing but then realized she had closed her laptop and almost put it in the opposite side of the apartment and it was quite hard to type that way.

“Maybe, I say more stupid things.’’ She shrugged and smiled that at least one of her friends were free.

“Well, then you wouldn’t mind dropping me a hint.’’ He said somewhat slyly and Y/N rolled her eyes, she didn’t just because it was fun to see him this questioning but she was also happy he had the decency not to try and unlock her laptop.

“Nope.’’ She replied popping the ‘p’ with a pleased smile on her face.


“Never.’’ She grinned.


Temporal hiatus, lots of work. Spencer felt slightly bitter at it, he knew that she could just ask him to help with the massive pile she managed to build up and the two would be finished quite quickly but he also noticed the recent few cases took a toll on her, especially her sleep, even though he hated this as she in no way allowed access to her laptop, he did understand it. That wouldn’t keep him from dropping the occasional comment though, he had gotten used to just letting little hints slip he completely knew what she wrote and sometime they were just praise, other times more encouraging words and other times critique at the fact that she wouldn’t let him even read a single word. And it was really annoying him, especially after what she had put in the author’s note.

“When was the last time you wrote?’’ Spencer suddenly said, Y/N shrugged in response. It was a long while ago, that was all she knew as their cases had been hunting her unlike usual which left her in desperate needs. She missed it, staying up ridiculously late writing but that was mostly because now she went to bed at a reasonable time and didn’t get any pay for it.

“I don’t know, long time. At least before the last three cases, maybe longer.’’ She shrugged and finished her third cup of coffee in the short span of an hour. It was becoming increasingly reasonable to be worried about Y/N and Spencer definitely was the only issue was is that he didn’t know what to do, he decided he’d at least ask Garcia for some help later but now he was unsure.

Y/N had developed a bad tendency to wake up because of a nightmare, luckily Spencer quickly found a way of comforting that helped her and it mostly included helping her list, sometimes it was just counting until her breathing had steadied and she wasn’t crying completely anymore, other days it was listing all the names of the people she knew and cared about and other times it was naming all actors and actresses from doctor who she knew, usually starting with the doctor and working from present day backwards.

“Yet you love writing.’’ He commented, he didn’t want to be over aggressive but did want to steer the conversation in a certain way. Y/N was very stubborn and he was unsure if she herself would realize she might need help which is why he was hesitant to state the obvious, she didn’t need a lot but it would help to talk with someone more professionally qualified than him about what she is dreaming, why and how to tackle that.

“I know it’s just frustrating to even try. I keep staring at a blank screen and can’t get a single word on it.’’ She sighed in frustration and he tried his best to comfort him but not offer her any words, when she needed comforting it needed to be silent comforting because once she got lost in her thought she couldn’t really manage proper sentences despite being a very skilled writer.

“C’mon, I think I know what you need.’’


The end.

Of course I could write another series about ten as quite obviously I’ve picked a different companion to be present during regeneration and I might do that but quite obviously it took me a long time to finish this as I’ve been struggeling with a lot of issues, always differing from time to time. To cut this all short, I might do that, I’d like to do that and it would be the same to just have him have the same personality only a completely revamped story. If it happens, it will be slow but I’m assuming if you follow my work you’d probably be used to that.

Thank you x

“It’s perfect.’’


When we worked here together, we fought, scratched, and clawed to make people’s lives a tiny bit better. That’s what public service is all about: small, incremental change every day. Teddy Roosevelt once said ‘Far and away the best prize that life has to offer is a chance to work hard at work worth doing.’ And I would add that what makes work worth doing is getting to do it with people that you love. I started my career more than thirty years ago in the Parks and Recreation department right here in Pawnee, Indiana. I had a lot of different jobs, including two terms as your governor. And soon, a new, unknown challenge awaits me which to me, even now, is thrilling because I love the work. Not to say that public service isn’t sexy because it definitely is, but that’s not why we do it. We do it because we get the chance to work hard at work worth doing, alongside a team of people who we love. So I thank those people who walked with me and I thank you for this honor. Now, go find your team and get to work

evakerlitvet  asked:

woo hii so i just found your blog and i'm kinda in love with it??? i shamelessly scrolled through the eremika tag for what seemed like 736 hours and felt like sending this :dd <3 so one thing i want to say is hOW BEAUTIFUL THE RECENT EREMIKA SCENE WAS?? i died. i literally did. the romantic background music, her leaning in for a kiss(im too convinced), Eren's stare and everything was just perfect najajsnsk. i heard about s3 and i swear if they don't make eremika fully canon in the end im SUING

haha omg plase! we can’t ask the anime to change anything
sue Isayama instead! lol

but yeah, the moment was everything I wanted too, I’m satisfied ^^

and, really thank you for the kind words , I’m glad you enjoyed scrolling through my blog <3


Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of self hatred/suicidal thoughts, handjobs, fingering

Word count: 1679 words

Description: 19 y/o Dan’s in uni and gets stressed with all the studying and everything so Phil tries to help him to relax

A/N: Basically I hate finals and i want someone like the Phil in my stories to cuddle me until I’m happy again



“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Are you okay?” Phil asked, smiling in amusement at Dan’s pout.

“No, I’m not fucking okay!” Dan shrieked, and Phil’s smile vanished at the seriousness in his voice.

Phil didn’t say anything as Dan dropped all the paper he had on the table, shuffled towards him on the couch, and then curled up with his head on his lap. Phil leaned down, kissing Dan’s cheek, and holding him snug.

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He’s No Good for You- Liam Dunbar / Theo Raeken

Request- Hi are your request open if they are can you do one Were the reader is a necromancer and best friends with Liam. Liam has a huge crush on her; So where Theo moves to town and wants to join the pack he takes a special interest in her. And Theo and her start to date so he can be around Scott more.

Then Liam hears Theo flirt with another girl and since he has I.E.D he almost blows up but then Scott, Stiles, and her stop him and he tells them what he heard. You can decide if you what her to believe him.

So other info: To the anon that requested this, I hope you don't mind but I kind of changed it a little, if that’s okay with you. You’ll see the reason in the next two parts :)

Also, there will be two separate stories after this, one in which you chose to believe Theo, and one in which you chose to believe Liam

Liam Dunbar was in love with you.

He fell in love with your perfect hair, and your perfect eyes, and your perfect lips, and your perfect voice and everything that was just perfect about you. He loved your sassy attitude, and your feisty nature, and your hips that would swing from side to side as you walked. He loved the spark of rebellion that you had deep inside, and your sarcastic attitude, and the way you would snap when someone picked on you or friends. He loved the little crinkle that would appear on your nose when you laughed, and the ferocity that lit your eyes when you would defend your friends, and even the sympathetic tone you used when you talked to the dead.

Liam Dunbar was madly in love with you, the necromancer that moved to Beacon Hills from your hometown a couple months ago.

Finding out that you were a necromancer seemed to draw the pack closer to you, wanting to understand your weird powers. You would always wave them off, saying that it wasn’t hard or anything, you just snapped your fingers and you had a walking dead body following after you. At first, they were highly suspicious of you, raising the dead didn’t seem like a great pastime, and so they watched you for the first couple weeks, following you in the cemetery as you looked at the graves, your hard gaze softening. You then proceeded to sit down and actually talk to the graves, and the weird thing was, they talked back. Their grim words making their hearts ache in pain. You would promise to raise them one day, to help them see the light one more time.

One night Theo, Scott, and Liam weren’t careful enough, and you caught them, your brows furrowed in anger and a little bit of sadness. They had been spying on you, they didn’t trust you and that seemed to make you a little bit more sad than usual. You weren’t doing anything wrong, and that was made very clear early on. You explained to them that you soothed the spirits, and made them extremely calm just in case an evil necromancer decided to stop and summon them for evil, they’d be to calm to try to fight.

Scott was the first to apologize, explaining that they had a problem a while back with these villains  called the Dread Doctors, and at the mention of their name you blinked slowly, your mouth tightening in a grimace. He went on to explain their intentions, all the while he noticed your state of agitation, and asked Theo to help calm you down.

You then went on to explain to Theo that they had tried to strip you of your magic, and killed your family in the process. It brought back pained memories that left you weakly staring at the ground, your ears pounding as the familiar memories swirled until nothing was left. Theo just calmly lifted your chin and smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, murmuring that everything was going to be alright. Even if you didn’t believe so, his comforting words seemed to cement the bond that you formed.

All the while, Liam stood there, looking at the two of you with narrowed eyes, his heart feeling like it was going to explode in his chest. He was hurt that you had chosen Theo over him. He guess he couldn’t complain though, you two had never met officially anyway until that night. But that still didn’t matter, what mattered to him was the fact that Theo- evil, creepy, vile, wicked Theo, had a better bond with the girl of his dreams than he did.

He was still bitter over the idea that Theo had stolen his crush, and while he sulked in defeat and walked the nearly empty mall alone, all he could think was, even aft six months, even after becoming your best friend, even after he bought you matching necklaces, you still were way more attracted to Theo than to him. That bugged him, what did Theo have that Liam didn’t? He was funny, and smart, and muscly, and charming. But you were dating Theo, not him.

He rounded a corner and started for the door when he spotted something that made the rage in his blood boil. Leaning against a wall with his lips pressed against some blonde bimbo’s lips, his hands wandering her body, and a smirk on his smug face was Theo Raeken.

Liam couldn’t believe the sight in front of him, and before he could stop himself, his nails shifted into their werewolf form, the sharp points digging into the soft skin of his palms, drawing blood from the open wounds. He felt his I.E.D kicking in, the sharp canines in his mouth peeking out between his lips as he stomped towards Theo. He growled and let out a roar, scaring the kissing couple as he charged for Theo.

“Shit shit shit!” Theo exclaimed, pushing his blonde friend away as Liam rammed into him, sending both of them through the glass window. There was a pause of silence in the air before an alarm set off. Liam ignored the ignoring noise and proceeded to pound Theo’s face in, breaking his nose and sending blood everywhere, the animialistic beast inside of him screaming to just rip his throat out.

“Liam!” A familiar voice screeched, hands wrapping around his arms to pull him off. He fought the person, leaving a deep scratch in the cheating werewolf’s side. “Liam stop! You’re hurting him.” You screamed, finally managing to break the fighting werewolves up. You stood in between them, looking at both of them with wide eyes, tears in your eyes from witnessing your best friends fighting. “What is your problem?” You spat, shoving him farther away before hurrying to your stunned boyfriend’s side, looking over his injures.

“Liam!” A couple more voices shouted, his body slowly starting to slip back into his human shape. He clenched his hands again, glaring at Theo before turning to look at Scott and Stiles, who had been in the mall shopping for anniversary gifts. “What did you do?” Scott nearly screamed, rushing past him to his injured Beta’s side.

Liam pursed his lips and dropped his gaze to his bloody fingertips, biting hard enough on his cheeks to draw blood.

“Liam, explain.” Stiles, the only calm one said, placing a hand on his friends shoulder.

Liam locked up under his touch, slowly raising his head to look at the injured Theo and seething Y/N. He swallowed dryly. “Theo is cheating on you.” He started, narrowing his eyes at the shaking senior with the ferocity of a thousand lions coursing through his veins. “He was cheating on you, and you were so fucking blind to see it. He was kissing her-” He said, snapping his hand to point to the shaking blonde. “And you never saw it! And I was trying to help and you took his side.”

You blinked, scooting closer to Theo protectively. “I’m not on anyone’s side, and how do I know you’re not lying to me?”

“Oh come on! Are you really that blind? Why would I lie to you? Why? Tell me why you think I would lie to you? My best friend in the whole entire world, why would you think that?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, running a hand over Theo’s arm as Scott began to heal him. “Because I know you like me.” You mumbled, looking into his soft eyes. “Because I know that you’ve liked me for a while and you wanted me, and you were jealous. And Theo would never do such a thing.”

Liam groaned loudly, turning to look at Stiles with pleading eyes. “You have to believe me.” He said, looking up at the boy he’d admired for months now, the one that was strong and weak all at the same time, the one that understood heartbreak and still welcomed it, the one that believed him when no one else would.

“Don’t try to get other people to listen to your absurd story.” You snapped, standing to full height with your fist clenched. “Just admit that you were jealous!”

“Okay! Fine, I was jealous, but I’m not lying!” He spat, taking a step or two back before feeling the tears in his eyes. You blinked slowly, noticing the distress crossing his face. He snapped out of his trance and screamed as loud as he could. “Fine! Make a choice, who do you believe; me, the one who stuck by you and tried to warn you, or him, the one who sucked face with a random stranger?”

“Liam I-”

“Don’t even say anything. Since your so “in love” with your stupid boyfriend, I hope you do get hurt.” He spat, not wanting to hear your answer. So he turned his back to you and walked away with the voices of Scott, Stiles, and you calling after him.


Request for anon:
Can you do an imagine with pietro and his Russian girlfriend when he proposes to her?

Pietro:,,[Y/N] do you know why we are here?“

[Y/N]:,,Um, because I was born here?”

Pietro:,,Well yes , but. [Y/N].. I need to tell you something. When I first saw you , I never thought about being together with you.
But when you talked with me or smiled to me , I knew that you are perfect to me. Just everything is perfect about you . I love every curve from you’re body. You’re eyes are so gorgeous. And God.. I come to the point. *gets on his knees*
So [Y/N] , will you marry me?“

The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth - Ch 18

TITLE: The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth
AUTHOR:  theothercourse
GENRE: Comedy/Drama/Romance/Erotica (eventually)
FIC SUMMARY:  In the summer of 2009, Tom Hiddleston is starring as Lysander in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at The Globe with his New Yorker friend, Terry. Kristiane, Terry’s best friend, visits to see opening night and spend a two week vacation in London, but to also hide from her life in NYC. A love story with a twist, a splash of drama, a sprinkling of Shakespeare and a generous helping of romance.
RATING: Mature (for smut)
AUTHORS NOTES: Feedback welcome - likes/reblogs/comments are love / thank you all for those that are reading / Unbeta’d / Story masterpost ( X )

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10 - Ch 11 - Ch 12 - Ch 13 - Ch 14 - Ch 15 - Ch 16 - Ch 17

The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth - Chapter 18

I shivered against the cold as I pulled on my Wicked sweatshirt over my two sizes too big Phantom of the Opera t-shirt, and flopped down to wait for Terry for our Christmas Day tradition. We exchanged gifts while sharing a bottle of wine before going to dinner tipsy with any friends around the city, either back in Manhattan as unemployed, on break from their national tours or too far from home to visit family for the day and a half break from Broadway. Our group was a mismatched ragtag team of out of towners or intentional orphans, finding family in each other instead of blood relations.

With an exaggerated yawn and stretch, I picked up last Sunday’s New York Times crossword puzzle. My secret ambition was to complete one in my lifetime without help, or research. I’d been working on defeating the weekly crossword since the age of twenty. My phone rang almost immediately after I sat down. I was already rolling my eyes at Terry for being late. He could keep on a time schedule as well as I could remember names.

“Are you running late already?” I asked with exasperation.

A deep nervous laughter followed by smooth honeyed accented voice greeted, “If I’m expected for tea, Kristiane, I’m afraid I’ll be very much delayed.”


Keep reading

Jack Gilinsky

I sit in the distance, separated from most. Everything partitioned my thoughts and emotions. Every distinct little piece, it all matched up somehow.

He stood, perfectly still. Tall figure, the khaki pants, his overly large tank, paired with the famous ray bands.

I studied carefully every laying piece of him. His nicely tan skin, his toned build, his incredible features. Everything was just so perfect about him; pure.

He was tall, charming, everything a girl ever wanted. He had muscular arms, the ones you always wanted to be held in. They were protective and warm, full of love. The way he tightened them together, you would see the veins; a girls’ weakness.

His broad shoulders were the ones that made the heart melt. Easily to wrap your arm your arms over. They were hard and strong.  

I peer down, remembering how I’d hold his hand in mine. Swinging them back and forth, full of memories. They were soft, large, and always warm with love. He’d smile at me, the genuine smile with the perfect white teeth. His top lip would roll over as he grins. I’d sometimes glare down to his chin, which would show his jawline. It was perfectly structured, somehow it was so even.

His eyes were a deep shade of brown, but not too dark. It was always full of lust whenever I’d look. It would always worth meaning, as if they were trying to tell me something. I’d finally reach to his eyebrows. He was most known for them. I wouldn’t really know how to explain it, really. They were just perfect, and strong; maybe even too strong. They were dark, groomed, and nicely shaped.

I’d wake up in the morning, feeling his large arm around my small waist. He pulled me close, as his lips lay on my skin. He’d breathe softly as I run my fingers in his soft hair. He’d smile, eventually waking up. Leaving soft kisses along my bare shoulders, he’s use his fingers to softly tickle my side.

No words spoken. We’d glare at each other, reminiscing everything we’ve had together. I’d take in his cologne from the night before. Wrapping my hands around his shoulder, would eventually turn to a tickle fight. Laughing numerous amounts of times, finally leading to the point where our stomachs hurt, we couldn’t laugh no more.

The past had an effect on us & so did the future.

My favourite sweater.

There you were. I knew you were mine the minute I laid eyes on you. I’ve tried on some other sweaters before you but none of them fit as perfectly as you. For me, You were that one sweater that went with everything. I could Dress it up or dress it down with you. That one sweater light enough to take with me on a beautiful summer day but thick enough to warm me up on a chilly autumn evening. Everything is just so perfect about you. I finally found you.

Summers have now come & gone. You’re not as new as you once were, you’ve been stretched out & now you’re a little outdated. There are couple of holes but I can’t give you up just yet because I know all your wear & tears, i know how to handle you & take care of you when you get messy. I still need you to warm me up on a cold winters day. So I keep trying to stitch you up because there is nothing a couple of patch jobs can’t fix. Right?

Time has progressed, i see now that your colours have faded, you’re no longer the happy bright colours you once were. Instead you’ve faded to a completely darker shade. I’ve worn you out but i just cant find it in my heart to let you go. i tell myself that you may not fit me right anymore but you still hug me in all the right places, i still want to cuddle into you because you make me feel safe & you smell like home. You’re just too comfy for me to let go. I just can’t let you go.

But it’s clear to see you’re wearing thin, there are too many holes now & as I desperately hold onto your loose threads I realized all that seems to do is pull on you & it makes you unravel even faster.

You’ve become undone.

You’re far too gone. I can’t fix you. I can’t keep trying to put you together. I look at you now & you’re hardly recognizable. I realize you aren’t even you anymore.

we’ve outgrown each other & there’s nothing left for me to do. I have to let you go.

I let you go.

You will always be my favourite sweater.

-Sokhom Im

Written by me. Dedicated to my beautiful friend B.K. This will pass. I love you.