first four that came into my mind

Reggie Mantle x Reader PART ONE: THE ARTIST & THE JOCK

Before the story starts I must say this one is pretty long because I needed to tell you a bit of the backstory I have created, and hopefully you guys like this it’s my first fanfic ever. Also I see very little Reggie Imagines, so one came to mind and I decided to write, please comment what you think about it. I’m thinking of turning into little series so I’m guessing this is Part One.

words: 1974

Summary: The beginning of something b/w the reader and Reggie

Spoilers: Its gonna get good by Part two i promise, hopefully you guys like it

Part Two - Part Three - Part Four -  Part Five - Part Six    

Such a small town Riverdale was. A town where everyone knew each other. By default though, the town you once knew was falling apart. Your parents’ generation was so screwed up and your generation was just trying to make it out alive.

           The next thing you knew this wholesome town had turned into a horror film, and you were not looking forward to the ending. Ms. Grundy was exposed a sexual predator and sent to Jail, and as happy as many people were that she had been put away, you couldn’t help but think how your friend Archie was doing. Not everyone knew that it was Archie who she had been with, as The Coopers decided to keep his identity a secret for his sake and the fact that Betty would not have them humiliate him.

           Then the incident of July 4th, when Jason Blossom was running away with Polly Cooper. Forbidden love, which ended in such a tragic ending with the murder of Jason. Then again does Forbidden love ever get a happy ending?  There you could not help to think of how both Cheryl and Betty were doing. Cheryl had lost her best friend, her confidant, the only one who was there for her unlike the rest of her tragic family dynamic. Betty in a sense lost Polly too since her parents sent her away because “she was not well” and she hasn’t seen Polly since.

           With you though you’re problems weren’t as big as theirs. Growing up in Riverdale was not easy, especially when all of us kids were just trying to make our parents happy, while trying to do the things we loved. You were the neutral ground for all the kids, well you and Betty. You had always hung out with almost every kid in Riverdale, from Betty, Archie, Kevin, Jughead, Cheryl, Chuck, Moose, Ethel, Trev, Josie, Valerie, Melody and Reggie. Now adding the new girl Veronica who seemed quite nice. She had her share of dysfunctional family problems too just like many of us in Riverdale. You’re parents came from nothing and in Riverdale they blossomed, your dad became a doctor and became rich and your mom decided to quit her job to support the household, which was not really her choice, but she would do anything for your father.

           These days though you were all grown up, many from different sides of the high school spectrum. Cheryl had her River Vixens cheerleading squad, Archie found love in music and sports (Such a Troy Bolton), Kevin realized he was gay (which we all accepted), Jughead found comfort in writing, Betty opened up The Blue & Gold newspaper for school again and dragged Jughead with her. Josie made a band with Val and Melody, Reggie/Chuck/Moose/Trev decided to channel their issues in the Jock spectrum. You however loved art, so they’d catch you drawing or painting hanging out with all of these losers on your free time. Oh did I forget to mention where Veronica made you and Betty tryout for the River Vixens. You only did it for the reason you do anything for anyone, to make them happy. Obviously you thought you weren’t going to make it. Proven wrong though when Cheryl accepted you because you were her friend and she knew you had “fire” only when your “fire” is needed. Though since the light of events this summer You and Veronica helped get Betty on the team.


           You were arriving home in your new uniform since you didn’t have time to change, Your mother seemed a little too happy about you joining the vixens, and dad was just happy you weren’t just the “hippie”  artist.  I did say this was a small town right? Well word got around that you were now a vixen. And to avoid your parent’s cheeriness about this whole ensemble you changed and decided to go to Pops.

           As you opened the door to Pops with the delightful smell of burgers and fries, you looked to your right to see Jughead in his usual booth typing away and slip across him in the booth.

“Hey” you stated as he looked up. “What no more uniform?” he retorted.

“Oh c’mon not you too, I am so tired of the comments and looks I have gotten” as you replied back Arch, Kevin, Bets, and Ronnie were coming into Pops

“Oh c’mon (Y/N) you talk to everybody here, you were bound to became a bit of the “in-crowd” Jug signals with his fingers.

“I just don’t want this to take time away from my art” You replied as the gang snuck into the booth.

“You can do both like me, (Y/N)” Archie answered with a smile as you gave a shoulder shrug.

“I only did this, because Ronnie made me, and thinking Cheryl wouldn’t let me in” you exclaimed.

“Oh come on I just recently met you and I can now see you have legs!” Veronica exclaimed after listening into our conversation.

“Yeah (Y/N) we’ve all known you for so long honestly I thought the only part of you that moved were those hands when they’re painting away.” Kevin adds on with a giggle

and so we kept on talking until it was our curfew and we had to go, the only one who ever stays behind is Jug trying to fix up his novel.

“Get some rest” you say to Jug as you are one of the last one there and he just gives you a glare and bids you goodbye.

The next morning as you were getting ready to leave your house, your parents call you.

“(Y/N), we need to talk to you!” Your mom shouted from downstairs.

“Coming!” you shouted back, grabbing your stuff for practice later.

“Hey mom, dad what’s up?” you asked as you reached them in the kitchen.

“We are having dinner with The Mantles on Friday night” your father answered

“And we need you home and go buy yourself something nice for the dinner” your mother ordered with a smile as she continued dads sentence.

Confused as to what’s going on since you don’t really mingle with The Mantles anymore you ask “Why?”

Dad just shoots you a look “Its business, and I want you here and that’s final (Y/N).”

You nod and make your way to the door and get the bike to get to school.

As you walk through the hall reaching your locker to shove in your Vixens outfit, he appears with a smug look on his face.

“Hey (Y/N), looking good today, um well you look good all days” Reggie fidgets and continues “but you definitely look good today.”

“I’d like to think so” you retort “but does this by any chance have to do with the fact that our parents are having a dinner on Friday?” you question Reggie

“Well a bit, but I always have to compliment a girl when she looks good” he smirks

“OH MY SAVIOR!” you give a sarcastic comment while motioning your hands to forehead like a damsel in distress, as Betty and Ronnie approach you.

“Hey, Reggie” Veronica speaks up, “um I was wondering if you’d like to do something on Friday?” she asks Reggie

“Sorry Ron, I got plans with my family and (Y/N) family” and he bids farewell by reaching to his forehead with his hand as if he was tipping an imaginary hat and walks off with his Goonies as Jug likes to call them.

“The (Y/L/N) and The Mantles together again, it’s been so long, what’s the occasion?”  Betty questions me.

“Is there something I’m missing here (Y/N)? You said you guys were just childhood friends” Ronnie adds on

“Oh, oh… my god no! We used to be very close when we were smaller, but um… no, you can have him Ron I haven’t changed my mind, and my dad said its purely business related” you retort while closing my locker answering to both Betty and Veronica.

The day goes by and during lunch you head on to ask Cheryl if there is going to be practice on Friday.

“No, I got some things to do at home (Y/N), have a nice dinner with The Mantles” Cheryl answers and gives me devilish smirk

“It is not like that Cheryl, just a business dinner” you answer annoyed.

“I always did think he’d end up with you, before he went full jock king on us and you ended up the tortured artist” she stated with sly smile.

The week went by and you bought yourself a dress that both you and your mom could find middle ground on since you preferred jeans and t-shirt on any occasion. It was Friday during lunch and you were with Jug, Kevin, Arch, Bets, and Ronnie. Talking about your plans for the weekend when Kevin decided to have a movie night tonight.

“Can’t, family dinner, if I skip it they’ll put me on death row” You told Kev

“Seriously? Ok how about Saturday night then?” Kevin asks

“Yeah, I think I can, how about you guys?” you ask the rest of the group

“Yeah sure, Betty and I will stop sleuthing for a night” Jug answers while taking a bit of food from all of us, while Betty nods

“I’m in!” Veronica states “What about you Archiekins?” She says taking away one of Archie’s fries.

“Yeah” the red-haired boy answered.

Reggie made his way to the table

“Hope you’re not making any plans for tonight (Y/N/N) my parents and my little sister would be so sad” Reggie states with a puppy dog expression.

“Oh, God please don’t call me that.” you tell Reggie while making an annoyed face.

“What? You love it when I call you that!” Reggie proclaims

“Yeah when we were eight” you declare as he walks off before Ronnie can get to talk to him.

“Well he’s been awfully sweet to you lately” Betty announces to the group

“It’s probably because he doesn’t want me telling our parents he’s a jerk most of the time” you say, while Ronnie just looks at you with a small smile, before you get to speak again, to re-assure Ronnie, Kevin decides to open his mouth.

“OMG, Sorry Ron, but you and Reggie, can it be? Straight out of a movie plot” he motions his hands together against his heart.

“I promise, he’s yours for the taking Ron” you speak up glaring at Kevin.

At the end of the school day as you’re getting ready to go home Ronnie stops to talk to you.

“Hey (Y/N), look if you like Reggie it’s okay, I mean you guys have history, I’m new and he doesn’t even give me the time of day, I mean…”

You grab her by the shoulder and cut her off by saying “Look Ron, you like him, me and Reg were just friends, I have never thought about him like that, never.”

Ronnie gives you a sad smile “Look I’m just saying the guy is hot, and he doesn’t even look my way, when he looks and talks to you it is like he is not that douchebag everyone thinks he is”

“Ron I… I… look… Look I am not going to let you mope around like this, I admit that Reg is good looking, but that could never happen you like him, and were just polar opposites that could never work out” You reassure her.

She looks at you still a bit sad and so you speak up again “I promise to talk you up during dinner, so he can start crushing on you, I’d invite you, but my parents as I have said would put be on death row if I did”

You bid goodbyes as you headed home to get ready for dinner with The Mantles.

Man it is going to a long night…

Originally posted by riverdalesource

Tag: @sgarrett49

Quartet Night Live Evolution Pamphlet Interview Translation

I’ve seen some of the scans of the photos going around but nothing about the interview part and as a QN trash i am, here i am translating it!

But first let me translate what these seiyuus wrote on their respective sign
Morikubo Showtaro: Tonight for sure, EVOLUTION!!
Suzuki Tatsuhisa: For everyone’s sake
Aoi Shouta: From now on, forever
Maeno Tomoaki: We are Quartet Night!

(Long post ahead)

Keep reading

lindseyylu17  asked:

This would totally be an AU fic but I would love to see Claire teaching a figure drawing class and Jamie being one of the students draws her.

So this is a bit of a role reversal from what you requested @lindseyylu17, but I’m enjoying it. 

“We have to what?” The entire class exclaimed in disbelief. The professor smirked and relaxed against the lab table.

“All of you heard me just fine. I expect to see the results from this class and Professor Montgomery is already expecting you starting tomorrow night. Don’t worry about supplies, Professor Montgomery says that he’ll have things ready for you each class, just remember to sign in on both of our rosters. This class starts at 8pm sharp tonight! I don’t want to hear about any of you being late!” Doctor Randall looked down at her wrist and waved her hand towards the door dismissing us.

I packed my bag with my head still reeling from what Doctor Randall required, Life Drawing, a class designed to embarrass all of the parties involved. Naked men and woman lounging for hours at a time while a gaggle of students attempted to draw their forms from various angles.

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!” I whisper yelled to myself as she made her way across the empty campus. “I can’t take a life drawing class I just… can’t! I can’t draw to save my life! Besides how does life drawing even fit with an anatomy class? I should be learning how to—”

“Talking to yourself again, Claire?”

“Agh!” I swung around nearly hitting my former roommate with her bag.

“Jenny!” I exclaimed clutching a hand to her heart, “you know not to sneak up on me like that!”

Jenny laughed and settled her hands on her hips, “Och aye but that’s the best time to sneak up on ye! What were you ranting to yourself about this time? Did fuddy-duddy Professor Whitman assign another frog dissection?”

Jenny’s strong Scottish accent lilting with each word and I smiled at the familiarity of if. “No, not Whitman…this time.”  

I laughed and Jenny snorted, linking her arm with mine as we made our way to the library.

“So if it wasn’t Whitman who and what did they do to deserve the horrible Beauchamp rant?”

“Doctor Randall. Not the history professor, his wife the biology professor,” I amended quickly. “Doctor Annie Randall, who isn’t even a doctor by the way! She dropped out of her residency and decided to teach Bio 425 and she’s forcing us to go to Life Drawing instead of our lab class for the next two months!”

Jenny’s eyes went wide, not only in shock but in the way I knew she was plotting something. “So ye have to take the life drawing classes this quarter?”

“Ugh! Yes. I really don’t see the point in this class. I’m in biology not art!”

“Quitcher whinging Claire and just go to the damn class. Ye never know what ye might find or should I say who.”


The art room was small, cold, poorly lit and reeked of chemical adhesives. Was this really happening? I kept asking myself. Was I really taking a life drawing class? I groaned thinking of how my time would be better spent studying or in the lab examining specimens, rather in this dank room foolishly facing a class I felt was beneath me. Why art? Why did she have to send us to an art class, what good would this do or bring to us? Artist are careless junkies that will get nowhere in life. This chosen path won’t pay their bills or get them the type of scholarships needed to further pursue a career. I couldn’t fathom their reasons for joining a group that might lead them to ruin.

“Class! Come to order now, please!” The hippie who I assumed was Professor Montgomery said with a clap of his hands.

“Please cease your conversations and begin to find your way to an easel, then position yourself so that you may see the stage unobstructed.”

The so called ‘stage’ was compiled of ratty boxes haphazardly draped with tattered striped cloths and a wicker chair that look as though the weight of a butterfly would cause the fibers to crumble.

“On the easel in front of you, you shall find a fresh pad of newsprint. You have five minutes in a medium of your choice to do a nice warm up sketch of the popcorn kernel I am passing out now.”

“What?” I mumbled to myself as everyone around me pulled out pens, charcoal, pencils and pastels, even my fellow biology classmates had found a tin of pencils and were passing them around to one another.

“Ready?” Professor Montgomery paused, looking around. He pulled a stick from behind his ear and handed it to me. “You may begin!”

With the oddly shaped pencil I paused with it’s point on the paper, not sure how to start. The lumpy, misshapen mass in my hand did not resemble popcorn in the least. The people around me were making wild gestures with their arms, beautiful curves appearing on the easels I could see. Taking a steadying breath I mimicked their motions and had the faintest of curves when the timer went off and we were told to stop.

“Perfect! Now that we’re all warmed up I would like to introduce our first two weeks model.” He swept his hands towards a side door that cracked open slightly. “This is our model’s first time sitting for a life drawing class so please, everyone give the warmest of welcomes to Mr. Alexander Malcolm!”

The model appeared from behind the door clad in a fluffy blue robe. His steps were sluggish and hesitant, I got the feeling he didn’t want to be there as much as I did. He slowly made his way towards the stage, but not climbing into position.

“Mr. Malcolm, if you please.” Professor Montgomery said gesturing towards the boxes.

Mr. Malcolm stared at the professor. From the reactions I could see of my classmates and the professor, the model was challenging him.

“Mind if I work up to disrobing?” A deep and thick Scots accent drifted my way.

“Fine!” Came the angry reply from Professor Montgomery. “But this is for tonight only! I have you for only four sittings and tonight is a shortened class due to first day bullshit! Tomorrow I expect you to be prepared from the moment the class arrives.”

Mr. Malcolm nodded tersely. He kept his head down as he approached the stage and settled himself on the wicker chair, which creaked with his weight.

“Mr. Malcolm will sit in this position for ten minutes, before adjusting to a different pose in a different direction.There will be five different poses, each lasting ten minutes tonight. Typically we do twelve fifteen minutes poses, but tonight we shall adjust! Please capture as much as possible given the circumstances. I want your drawings labeled per pose, with your name on it, and date at the end of the class. Other students use these pads so please try not to be heavy handed. You may begin!”

From my angle all I could see was the bulky collar, the top of his shoulder blades and his shoulder-length curly red hair. I tried to capture the way his shoulders fit the robe and disappeared behind the wicker chair. However, when I looked at the drawing the paper reflected back a mass of scribbles that no matter what way you looked at it, you could not tell what it was meant to be.

I huffed out a breath and tried again, this time focusing on his hair. Again the spirals on the page no more reflected the coils of Mr. Malcolm’s hair than it did the curve of his shoulder. Our time started to dwindle down on this first pose, Professor Montgomery began to adjust a small space heater to point towards the stage. I noticed the model’s shoulders tense and his arm begin to shake.

“Stop! Readjust!”

Mr. Malcolm stood and took a deep breath before untying the front of his robe. The fabric swung to his sides. He turned and began to sit on a block directly in front of me, I finally caught a glimpse of the man I was supposed to study. His muscles were well defined, smattered with freckles and curls of fair blonde and red hairs. They made a trail that lead to a patch of even thicker curls that surrounded, while flaccid, still a very impressive penis. My clinical mind took over, examining his every muscle and curve. The way the skin was stretch taught in areas, and bulged in others. I wondered what activities he must do to maintain the way he looked. Even sitting there wasn’t a roll or wrinkle of fat. His body was the perfect biology project.

“Stop! Readjust!”

I jolted from the sudden exclamation. Looking at my easel, I realized I hadn’t sketched a single line. I had to shake myself out of this. He was just a man. A very well defined, attractive man, but still just a man. Think of him as a patient and this is how you’re to figure out what’s wrong with him! Get your head on the assignment, Beauchamp!

Three more positions followed and with each one Mr. Malcolm slowly became more and more unclothed until finally the robe was laying across the floor out of his reach. My temper rose with each minute. This man was most likely being paid for this, but still he was being put on display in front of complete strangers who are meant to analyze his every feature. I could not understand why he was putting himself through this torture, he was clearly not comfortable no matter how long the class went on and I couldn’t blame him. Not only was he being exploited but the amount of females in the class started to overwhelm even me. These girls shouldn’t be allowed to look at him this way! He wasn’t theirs to oogle and treat like a piece of meat! He’s not yours either, a small voice reminded me. Yet, he felt like he was mine. I felt the need to cover him up and hide his body from sight, to protect him and comfort him….

My internal rant lead to the rapid end of class. I didn’t even hear the final instructions nor did I care I only had two of the required five drawings. I signed, dated, and numbered them before tearing the sheet off of the pad and handing it in. Mr. Malcolm had already disappeared from sight. Slowly I returned my supplies and stared at the door he had appeared from at the start of class. Tomorrow then, I thought and hitched my bag over my shoulder just as the side door squeaked open. The lights were dimmed even further than before and I could just catch the glint of his red hair as he darted out of the classroom.

“There’s the nudest!” A bellowing, familiar, laugh sounded.

“Shut it Ian, or I’ll make ye!”

“Och, come off it Jamie! Ye ken I’m just pullin yer leg! How was it? Did your cock come out to play and make the lassies faint with desire?” The sarcastic tone was cut off by a loud thump. I slipped through the door in time to see none other than Ian Murray rubbing his jaw from where Mr. Malcolm, or Jamie, had hit him. Ian merely laughed more.

“Are ye tellin me there wasn’t a single thing good to come from that class?” Ian’s tone was similar to that of his fiancee’s, sneaky and up to something.

“Nay!” Jamie roared as they made their way to the elevators. “I canna believe ye and my sister dared me and not only dared, but forced me to do this after losing a bet! There isn’t enough money in the world to make me want to come back tomorrow night! It’s definitely not worth the sixty pounds they’re paying me!”

Ian had his arm around Jamie’s shoulder as the two of them entered the elevator. As Jamie/Mr. Malcolm turned around we made eye contact, maybe the first of the night, but his eyes went wide. He was saying something to Ian but I couldn’t hear nor make it out as the doors shut and I was left alone on the abandoned art floor.

#27 ”you’ll have to get through me first”

Prompt: #27”you’ll have to get through me first” (Jasper Hale x Reader)

Word Count: 710

A/N: I’m struggling to write the other two requests that I have, I have them since a long time and I just want to get rid of them, to be honest, they are really good, it’s just that I’m a bad writer. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy this, I actually like it. BTW, I try to imagine (Y/N)’s power being similar to Wanda Maximoff from the Avengers.

Feedback is always appreciated. Don’t be shy if you want to leave an ask or just want to talk to me, I’m always here!

Gif is mine this time!

“They are coming” Alice said, the anxiousness on her voice evident.

Jasper was on my side as soon as Alice talked grabbing my hand and squeezing it, the presence of the Volturi never meant something good, and having in mind that it wasn’t too long that I’ve been turned into a vampire and upon discovering my gift of telekinesis and mental manipulation the Volturi, especially Aro, had been expressing their interest in me joining them; of course I said no, but they were rather insistent.

Suddenly, four vampires came walking to the field, their red eyes focused on the big fire that was only a few meters away from us. Once they got close enough they took off their hoods, Jane was the first one to speak.

“Impressive” her soft voice had a hint of sarcasm to it, I could sense it “I’ve never seen a coven escape an assault of this magnitude intact” her eyes focused on Carlisle.”

“We were lucky” he simply answered, as calm as he always was in this situations.

“I doubt that” she said, her face never changed, no emotions could be seen.

“It appears we missed and entertaining fight” Alec spoke from beside her, his chin raising a little.

“If you’d arrived a half hour you would’ve fulfilled your purpose” Edward answered and I feel the sarcasm coming from him, Jane’s red eyes were instantly on him as he spoke.


Everything from there happened somehow quick for me to fully understand, I haven’t noticed the newborn girl that was hiding behind Carlisle in an attempt to secure herself from the Volturi, but Jane didn’t let that go unnoticed. As she inflicted pain on the little girl I couldn’t help but to flinch and tried to look away, Jasper noticed my state and tried to calm me, he moved his body closer to mine, pressing his hand on my waist and rubbing small circles with his thumb. I tried to look at him or to even say something but Jane’s voice sounded again before I could even do something.

“It’s good to see you again, (Y/N)” I looked at her; her red eyes were already looking at me with the same intensity as always, her demeanor never changing. “Aro is still interested in you, he told me to deliver a message for you”

“I’m listening” somehow I managed to sound way more confident than I actually felt, is not that she scared me or even the other three vampires that she had on her sides, I could easily take her in one second, it’s that the simple image of having Aro thinking about me joining his side made me sick.

“He is still waiting for you; he doesn’t like to be kept waiting” she tilted her head a little “He wouldn’t like to come and get you, even if he expressed to me that he wouldn’t mind doing that”

Almost instantly Jasper put me behind him and looked at Jane intensely “You’ll have to go through me first” his voice was low and threatening.

“Jasper” Carlisle interrupted before things could escalate and I grabbed his hand trying to pull him back to me.

Jane just looked at him, the corner of her lips quirking up on what it looked like a sadistic smile but ignored him as she turned her attention towards Bella and Edward.

“Caius will be interested to know that she is still human”

“The date is set” Bella answered rapidly at Jane’s words.

Jane just gave her a bored look and turned her gaze to me again “Take care of that Felix, I’d like to go home”

In one swift movement Felix was at the little girl’s side grabbing her, she began to scream and I tried to look away once more, trying to shield myself into Jasper’s chest, he quickly pushed me against his frame again, but this time he was looking straight into Jane’s eyes and his grip on my body tightened.

I knew that the Volturi wanted me on their side, but I also knew that I had Jasper on mine and that he would do anything to protect me, even if I was strong and could handle things, he would still try to protect me from them.

anonymous asked:

How do you come up with these ideas on characters, they look amazing

Thank you very much!  Casper and Catherine have been characters bouncing around in my head for ages, though I’ve admittedly never actually done anything with them until now.  Casper came first, though back when I first conceived him he was simply called “Sharps,” and he manifested as an absent-minded doodle on the notes of a college class lecture.  Catherine came soon after, when I decided I liked Casper enough to give him a co-protag.

The other four designs that I’ve posted in the recent days came about by necessity of needing characters that filled those roles in this project.  That being said, Commissioner Baumann might be considered a redesign of another character I designed ages ago, by the name of Armando Dillon.  (He was an armadillo, yes.)

That there is… probably one of only two drawings I ever did of the fellow, hahaha.  Ha… boy, this is old.

The generic doggie officer might also be considered a redesign, though the original version of his character was a rhinoceros named Hornston.

Today only, folks!  A peek back into SquigglyDigg’s drawings of ages past!  Hahaha these are honestly a little embarrassing to share, but I guess they serve to show how both the characters and my art have changed over the years.

heartbroken | danisnotonfire (requested)

request: Do you take requests? If you do could I maybe get a really fluffy dan imagine, where the reader just went through a breakup and dan comforts her and then they get together? I love your blog by the way!💙💙💙
word count: 420 haha blaze it
tw: none
note: hello!! im back from a really long, unexpected hiatus (i had writers block yikes) and hopefully updating regularly now. this one was really short and crappy, but it was driving me insane that nothing had been posted in months. so yeah, im back. also no, i didnt mean chris as in chris kendall, it was just the first name that came into my mind i love chris

“Seriously, he was a dick anyway.”

Y/N, one of my best friends, was sitting next to an enormous pile of used tissues, clinging on to my comforter which I knew would most likely be covered in snot soon. This morning she had knocked on my front door and instead of getting a smile and a wave in greeting like I had expected, I had been mauled into a hug and a, “he broke up with me!” was (very loudly) spluttered into my ear. Now, four hours later, we were both lying on the lounge and I was trying to make her feel better.

Y/N and Chris had been dating for five months, and according to Y/N, this morning she had woken to a text from Chris saying that he wanted to break up. Nothing more, nothing less. Literally just, “I think we should break up, bye”.

“Also,” I continued, throwing the comforter off of her in case it actually did end up getting snot on it. “Phil bought you food, and we have your favourite movies. Because fictional people are way better than real people, yeah?”

She laughed, wiping her eyes. “Yeah, I guess so. Unless those people are you and Phil. In which case, you guys are better.”

I picked up the DVD cases and held them up in front of Y/N. “Which one?” I asked. Pointing to The Breakfast Club, I got up from my spot on the lounge and put it into the DVD player, then sat back down next to her.

As the movie started I felt Y/N lie her head on my shoulder, moving closer to me. I put my arm around her, a smile on my face as I turned back to the movie playing on the TV.

Almost two movies later, Y/N had stopped crying, and we had eaten two full packets of chips (a/n: or crisps whatever lol) and were almost finished watching Sixteen Candles. Normally, I wouldn’t have ever watched these movies, but these made Y/N happy. Seeing Y/N made me happy, so I agreed to watch them.

“Thank you, Dan,” Y/N said, as the credits for the movie started rolling onto the screen. “For all of this.”

“What? It’s nothing, really. You know I’d do anything for you.”

Y/N smiled gratefully, hugging me tighter. “No, for everything. Like, putting up with me almost every day. Buying me food. Y'know?”

“Yeah. Well, it’s my pleasure. You’re a great person Y/N, anyone would be happy to have you in their life.”

@illtakethering‘s prompt: John hears Rosie crying in the night but when he gets up to comfort her Sherlock is already there

Sharp cries pierced through the speakers of the baby monitor, the sound waves stabbing John’s temples and making him groan with fatigue and frustration. Damn it, he cursed mentally. It felt like he had only fallen asleep two minutes ago. John rubbed his eye with  the heel of his palm, sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the sofa. 

He was sleeping on the sofa now. His old room became Rosie’s, and he didn’t want to sleep in the same room with her. He knew she had to get used to sleeping by herself. The sofa killed his neck and back–he was too old for this shit–but he couldn’t ask to sleep with Sherlock. Not when they were still…whatever it was they were. Not involved. John wanted to be with him, so much it ached, but he’d only been back at Baker Street for two weeks, and hadn’t found the right moment yet.

“Coming,” he mumbled, forcing his eyes to open. He reluctantly pushed the blanket off himself. He was about to stand, but then he heard a deep voice come from the baby monitor.

“Shh, shh.”

John’s ears perked up. Sherlock?

“Come on, none of that,” Sherlock said over Rosie’s cries.

John must have been asleep when Sherlock walked through the sitting room and went up to her room. How long had she been crying? John grabbed his phone from the coffee table and pressed the homescreen, checking the time. It was 4:07 in the morning. He frowned, chest twisting with guilt. It wasn’t fair. Sherlock deserved sleep, too, and it wasn’t his child.

John got up and walked quietly to the bottom of the stairs. Rosie’s door was ajar and Sherlock’s deep voice floated down the stairs. He held the railing and ascended as slowly and quietly as possible, his ears straining to hear what Sherlock was saying over Rosie’s cries.

“It’s really all right, Rosie. There’s no need to cry…Shhh…You’ll wake your daddy.” He chuckled. “You don’t care, do you? Of course you don’t. You can’t, not yet.”

By now, Rosie’s cries were dying down to little whines and whimpers. John was at the top of the stairs now, peeking into the room. Rosie’s night light cast a warm, yellow glow on her and Sherlock. 

Sherlock was standing next to the crib, holding Rosie close, hips swaying from side to side, slowly rocking her. One of his large hands was cradled around her head as she whimpered into his shoulder. He softly shushed her again, looking down at Rosie with enough tenderness to make John weak in the knees. Sherlock’s curls were ruffled and fluffy. He’d clearly been sleeping. John thought that, if someone had told him five years ago that Sherlock Holmes would get up in the middle of the night to comfort and rock a baby, he would have laughed right in their face. 

John swallowed thickly.

Rosie was quiet now, save for a little whine here and there, and Sherlock sighed peaceflly, closing his eyes, still rocking her slowly. John shifted on the top stair, but the wood creaked beneath his feet, and Sherlock’s head shot up. His cheeks turned as red as the dressing gown he was wearing.

“John,” he said, clearly surprised, but trying to stay quiet for Rosie’s sake. He looked like a deer caught in headlights.

He was embarrassed, John realized. Embarrassed, for what? For being caught loving? For letting his guard down and his softer side through? John hated this, hated that Sherlock went through a lifetime of hiding his emotions. He didn’t want Sherlock to feel ashamed. Feeling fond and brave, John walked up to Sherlock, placed a hand on his shoulder, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

John grinned at Sherlock’s shocked expression. “Thank you for taking care of her,” he said.

Sherlock looked down at her. “Not an issue. I wanted to let you rest.”

“Thanks,” he said again. He yawned, looking at Rosie’s drooping eyelids, and at the dark circles under Sherlock’s eyes. “Put her to bed,” he said. “I think she’s fine now.”

Sherlock nodded and lowered her into her crib, and to John’s relief, she went right to sleep. 

Sherlock looked nervous, and his hand came up to the spot where John kissed him on the cheek. “John–?”

“Sherlock,” he sighed, keeping his voice hushed, “it’s past four in the morning. We need to talk, but.” He stifled a yawn. He wanted to be fully awake to talk, and for their first kiss. He wanted to let Sherlock know that this wasn’t over, though, and that he did want him. He took a risk. “Can we sleep first?” Sherlock deflated, so John quickly clarified, “Together?”

Sherlock’s eyes brightened. “Oh. You mean, in my bed?”

He licked his lips. “Do you mind?”

Sherlock’s lips quirked into a smile. “Not at all.”

By the time they climbed under the sheets, they were too exhausted to feel awkward about sharing a bed, or even really think about it. To their sleepy, fuzzy minds, this felt natural. John felt Sherlock’s face nuzzle into his neck, and he could only bury his face in the soft, ruffled curls. Tomorrow, they would talk properly. 

The last thing John thought of before drifting off as the image of Sherlock, peaceful and happy as he held Rosie. For the first time in years, he went to sleep happy.

My own fluff makes me vomit

Sunday Afternoon

Part 1

@butiaintgonnaloveem set an AMAZING challenge; Must be about Baby, our beloved Impala. So I picked the following song (please listen to it first) that I fell in love with and this fic is what resulted. It’s 6k words, so it’s in 2 parts… enjoy

Song: Groovin (The Young Rascals)
Characters: Reader, John, Dean, Sam
Warnings: fluff, angst, supernatural themes, death, blood…
A/N: Thank you to the marvelous @avasmommy224 for being my beta on this, you’re one amazing woman!
Summary: A shared love for an Impala brings people closer together, whether they know it or not… (shit summary but I don’t want to spoil anything)

Originally posted by abreaktocome

May 29th, 1967: I’d been saving up all my money for that bloody car. I knew exactly what I wanted. I’d even asked the bank about a loan so I could get it faster, but oh no… no loan for a travelling woman who didn’t have a solid job, or a home!
I finally had enough money for the car of my dreams, a 1965 Ford Mustang!
I almost ran to the car lot when I received my pay for the month.
I had walked past this car for the past year, the only reason it was still here was that i’d put a deposit on it last year, Gary the owner of the car yard knew me well by now. I was in every other week, just staring and mumbling to the precious baby.
3.27pm; when you’re whole life changes, you want to be able to pinpoint it when you look back.
I rushed into the car yard, looked to my left, two cars back, I already had my finger pointed and I said you’ll be all mine soon, baby, but all the cars had been moved around and it was out before I’d even realized. The sleek, shining, red, Ford Mustang had been swapped for a twinkling, black, brand new, Chevrolet Impala.
Did my world change or what?
Gary came out, waving the papers at me, but I ignored him. I went straight over to the car. I had to see her, had to touch her. She was a siren and I was caught in her song.
“YN, your car’s over here.” Gary tried to loop a hand around my waist but I wasn’t budging.
“How much is she?” I whispered. I was in a trance, I wasn’t leaving here without this beauty.
“Four thousand.” To give Gary credit, he did try and talk me round, he spent ages begging me to come over to the Ford, he mentioned the deposit more than once, but it wasn’t till I held my switchblade to him that he gave in.
And I couldn’t believe it either, she was cheaper than the Ford.
“She’s mine.” I whispered, nodding at my decision.
“But…” Gary tried again but one stern look in his direction and he got the point. He hurried off to the office for the paperwork.

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Sam Winchester’s Journal – Entry #95

It was the second nightmare this week, the seventh this month.

I could say I’m used to it by now, but nobody in their right mind can be used to their brother screaming their name helplessly in the middle of the night. The fact that every episode is more violent than the preceding one doesn’t help either. It started when Dean came back to the bunker again, three, four months ago. At first, it was just words I could hardly decipher through the door when I was coming back from the library or the kitchen; then, as time went by, they became cries, louder and louder every time. My name, pretty often. Calls for help too. Pleas for whatever torture to stop. Again and again and again. 

Stop, don’t do this, please. PLEASE. STOP. MAKE IT STOP.

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Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Hamilton

Part 1/6


Pairing: jamilton (hamilton x jefferson)

Word Count: 1274

Premise: modern law school au - Thomas works in the library where Alex spends all his time.

a/n: first part in a series! I don’t think it’ll be very long, probably like 10 parts or something but who knows! BONUS: see if you can catch the In the Heights reference :3

Thomas highlighted a passage from the casebook, jotting a quick note in the margins. Trying not to let the stress get to him, he did his best to take in every word of the case. The next day he would have to write a test on this, but for some reason his brain wasn’t computing the information properly. He sighed, checking the clock. He still had half an hour left on his shift. The library was dead, which let him study, but all he wanted was to go back to his apartment and sleep and maybe watch some TV with his roommate James.

Thomas let his eyes drift closed, the highlighter falling to the counter as his hand went slack. His chin comically dropped to his chest as he fell more deeply asleep.


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Jumin Cheating Fan Fic part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Jumin awoke to a painful thumping in his head. The amount of wine he had consumed had probably caused this headache. He reached over to the other side of the bed expecting to find his lover; however he felt nothing of the silk of the sheets.

 "MC?“ He called out as worry began to fill his mind.

 Suddenly all the events from the things that had happened previous days had flooded into his mind. He quickly sat up searching around the room of any sign of your presence. His heart started to race when he saw that you were gone. The ringing of his phone distracted him from his thoughts. The name Sarah flashed on the caller id. Her. She was the woman that he had cheated with. A sudden wave of anger flashed though his body as he grabbed his phone as through it against the wall.

 How could he? The only person he loved, the only woman that had understood him and had truly loved for who he was, he had gone and destroyed it all. He had never intended for it to go this far. It was only supposed to be a one time thing for business.

 Elizabeth purred softly and rubbed her soft white on his arm as she looked up to her owner, feeling his depressed state. The ringing of his phone kept going off. He sighed heavily and picked up the phone finally answering to the mistress.

 Maybe this was how it was supposed to be. Maybe Sarah was the one he was supposed to be with. His heart pinged with pain as he looked at all the pictures that were left in the penthouse. A picture of the two of you on your one year anniversary. You had huge smile on your face as he had his arms around your waist. He hung up the phone and walked into the closet. Of course all of your belongs were gone except for the things he had bought you. The beautiful red dress from the day he had first met you at the RFA party. In a box and the floor laid the engagement ring. His hands trembled as he now finally realized that he had lost you. He dropped it and saw a neatly wrapped gift on the the top of the closet self. He grabbed the gift and tore off the wrapping only to find a photo album.

 'To my beloved Fiancé~ As a gift for our four year anniversary, I thought I’d get you something meaningful from my heart.‘ 

 A small tear ran down his cheek as the memories from all the years you were together came into his mind.

 The photo album started off with a picture of the day you first met, the RFA party. It continued on with every firsts you had, such as date, kiss, first anniversaries, and first more private stuff~. 

The sound of his door creaking open caught his attention. A tall beautiful woman with blue eyes and long black hair walked though the door. 

 'Honey! You finally got rid of them? That’s what you wanted right? Why do you look so sad? Is there any way I can cheer you up~?’ She purred as she straddled his lap. Although his heart was telling him to push her away he couldn’t.

 Although his biggest fear was losing you, he was also afraid of being alone. Who cares if he was unhappy anyways? He had no reason to be happy anymore since the source of his joy was long gone. He was even too afraid to go on the messenger app, knowing how shameful it was for all of the members to see how much of a jack ass he was. Maybe he did deserve this. MC deserved someone better after all. He wasn’t the perfect man he told everyone he was. In reality he was just a scared insecure man that had let his fear get the best of him and ruin what good he had left in his life. The loneliness and thought of knowing he would never truly be happy again made the empty kisses that Sarah was leaving on his neck feel numb. 

 The thought of you was stuck in his head; what were you doing? You probably hated him right? He hated himself for doing such a horrible act on someone that he claimed he loved deeply for. He was sure that he had loved you. He only wanted you. The woman who was now undressing in front of him, was she really worth giving up his life for? The life he had already planned with you? The woman’s cold hands started to unbutton his shirt and remove his tie. This was for the best. Even though his heart felt torn and empty he didn’t stop her. The only way to drown his feeling was to drink and fuck the pain away. While he was with her, in her, the thought of you still couldn’t leave his mind. 

 Her loud high pitched moans couldn’t even drown you out of his mind. He became frustrated. Losing himself in the act he was committing with this woman.

 Was this the only escape from the new harsh reality?

Soon, My Friend (I’ll Be Yours Sunday)

*click through to read on ao3

written by: @bellamyfrecklefaceblake​ | Meghan

prompt: ‘You were dancing around in the kitchen and you fell and I was laughing at you because you’re silly and clumsy but oh shit you’re actually hurt’ for anonymous

word count: 2701

He showed up at her doorstep, drunk and near disorderly, so she let him sleep it off on her couch. He was still there the next morning with his shirt off—it was tossed over her television—and his shoes on. Seeing him there, so vulnerable and dead to the world, made her want to run her hand over his head, flattening the curls that were there—maybe scratch at his scalp a little and drop a kiss on his forehead—but she just left him there. It was best for everyone if she just left him there and did her own thing.

So, Clarke rolled her eyes—at herself and him—as she walked into her kitchen, putting her earphones in. She picked an upbeat playlist, one she liked to run to, and went about filling up her water bottle and eating a granola bar. She didn’t hear Bellamy wake up or walk to the entryway of the kitchen, but she did see him there, all of a sudden.

She was mid-dance, swaying her hips and shaking her head back and forth to a Taylor Swift song when she turned around and saw Bellamy watching her, eyes hooded in pain or exhaustion—maybe both—but smiling at her.

She quickly plucked the earphones out and fell back against the fridge, clutching her chest. “When did you wake up?” she asked and Bellamy smiled wider before cringing and squeezing his eyes shut. That made Clarke smile.

“Just now,” he said, voice husky and rough from sleep and a hangover. “What the hell are you doing?”

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Eobard Thawne vs Harry Wells vs HR Wells pt.1 (pt.2 is here)

1. First appearance.
2. Action (yes, HR’s action is drumsticks).
3. Speech peculiarities.

@politeandnotgay Merry Christmas! I wanted to make something for you and this Wells-es collection came to mind. I had to divide it in two parts because there is sooooo much stuff (part 2 is here!). Clearly, when we get a fourth Wells, Tumblr will have to let us upload four gifs in a row. Hope you enjoy, and have a tremendous (😉) Christmas!


Author Appreciation day was a few days ago AND I MISSED IT!!!
But here are some fics that I really really REALLY love but have never doodled before >v< (Fic name and author in the captions!)

And now we have today’s sketchadoodles! Four today. One of these days you’d think I’d learn how to make posts to upload automatically, then this could totally be four days of uploads and I’d have a buffer and be awesome. Ahh well. :3 The three sketches behind the cut are me trying out belly-bulge styles of artists that came to mind while jotting down some prompts to keep myself sketching more smoothly. SamanthaWeltzin (Better known as Humbug by my other posts but the username on FA is Samanthaweltzin so yeah), Lapseph, and Cownugget on FA.

Maia & Jori, the characters in the first picture here © Racheltheseeker on FA

Samantha Weltzin, the implied prey of the Humbug style sketch © Humbug

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Okay, remember Race to the Edge season 3 episode 4 with the Singetail? There is this moment when Hiccup said about seeing the Singetail before but is unable to remember from where.  

The moment he said that a certain dragon from How To Train Your Dragon 2 came popping in my mind. I mean take a closer look at the Singetail.

Four wings.

Not exactly the same but those four wings look very familiar for someone who meet a different species who nearly looks the same as this singetail.

Remember this:

The first time Hiccup met Cloudjumper was when he was a baby and yes they’re different dragon species but it’s the four wings that give it away.

Especially when both baby Hiccup and Stoick witnessed Valka getting taken away from them.

So this is only an assumption but perhaps the dragon Hiccup was referring to was Cloudjumper but since it was eighteen years ago he couldn’t really remember all the details. With this in mind, Hiccup might have mistaken that small memory of Cloudjumper for meeting the singetail.

Like I said earlier, those two nearly look the same by the comparison of their wings.

So I can only assume that Hiccup was having that moment of remembering the night his mother was taken but only recalling the dragon who he thought was the singetail from that night dispute the dragon actually being Cloudjumper.

So what do you guys think?

Could Hiccup have been talking about Cloudjumper and mistook the singetail’s wing form to be that dragon he saw the night Cloudjumper took Valka?

I’m Ready To Take That Chance Again (Pt. 2)

[Summary]: Bucky and you are HYDRA lab rats and become a Winter Soldier team. And Bucky has made a decision that you are his responsibility and made a promise to protect you at all costs.

[Pairing]: Bucky x reader

A/N: This was so awesome to write! I really like what I did with the fight scene between Bucky and the reader. Feedback would be appreciated!

Tagging: @bovaria @whotheeffisbucky @dividedwecantfall @capsbuchanan @crazypixelcake @lovepizza-cake11 @thewinterher0 @my-unique-mind @smol-flower-kiddo @marvel-ash @abovethesmokestacks @mellifluous-melodramas @buckysberrie

Originally posted by thiddlestoff

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scarletsaphire  asked:

Space mom I need a name for an alien species for Klance Week. They're tiny (like four inches) eight pink koala bear creatures with impenetrable skin and beetle like pincers instead of a mouth.


secondly aight my dude i’ve come up with a few options to run by you (this is a weird mix of what you could call them singularly or as a group lmao sorry):

  • ursocills
  • fantrides
  • the naparalark
  • convecans

lmao dude i have no idea those were just the first weird alien-ish words that came to mind i’m so sorry if they didn’t help at all ily good luck

SJM as the Ministry of Truth

I don’t know if anyone has realised this yet, but SJM holds a strong similarity to 1984 (by George Orwell)’s Ministry of Truth (or Minitrue) in the way they manipulate and rewrite past facts in order to sustent some present facts. Invaliding some of them, saying something didn’t happened or ocurred in some other way just for the sake of preserving what’s going on in the present as the absolute truth.

As Winston Smith (1984′s protagonist) did in his job in the Minitrue, SJM does the same in her books. The only difference is that she can’t rewrite her novels entirely so she has to resort to:

  • Changing or altering facts from the past on the present (instead of doing so in the original work, as was done in 1984) by revealing some new information. Ex.: Rowan and Lyria’s mating, which resulted to be fake thanks to Maeve’s doing, therefore making it invalid, to sustent the new main ship, RowanxAelin.
  • Changing a character’s way of thought, feel and/or act, usually with little to no explanation or logic at all. Ex.: Celeana’s “not so true after all love” for Chaol, Celeana’s transformation into Aelin, Manon’s “romantic interest” towards a human male, Dorian’s “not so true after all love” for Sorscha (which includes describing her as a weak and fragile woman), Dorian’s “romantic interest” towards a witch.
  • Writing a whole new series of novellas to justify and support the things that are happening in the main novel’s present. Ex.: I haven’t read it yet but I have come to know that in Chaol’s novella his romance with Celeana is dismissed as something lacking of true love feelings.

To sum up, in order to sustent present facts, character’s actions, thoughts, feelings and beliefs that normaly would seem weird, occ or unexplinable, SJM recurs to transform actually canon facts from her previous books into something else, completely different, or giving little excuses here and there. This way she (consciously or not) builds up a big lie that’s meant to be believed by us, the readers.

Note 1: With this I didn’t want to be offensive, the comparision just popped up into my mind and I thought it would be nice to share my ideas.

Note 2: I am well aware that most of the examples I gave were about romantic relationships, this doesn’t mean this hypothesis can’t be applied to other things of the story nor does it mean that I’m hurted because my ship(s) sank. Those were the examples that came first to my mind while writing this and I think they make it quite clear to understand my point of view.