first signs of trouble

anonymous asked:

yearning + biospecialist for the prompt please and thank you

“What is this?” There’s a lack of emotion in the question, almost no inflection at all, that’s the first sign of trouble.

“What is what?” Jemma asks, already knowing precisely what Grant’s discovered on her dresser. She knew she should have hidden it behind her unmentionables.

He flashes the application at her, stalling her mid-stretch. 

“Right,” she says, hoping her voice doesn’t sound as guilty to his ears as it does to hers. “That. I should think it’s rather obvious.”

He sets the application for transfer down innocently enough, but there’s a weight to the motion that feels like he’s just dropped a live grenade in the middle of her quarters. He sits on the edge of her bed, somewhat sideways so that his feet are still firmly on the ground but he’s facing her.

“Field work? Seriously?”

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the dreaded communist agenda

sunday: destroy every government, company, and landlord that’s killing, controlling, and exploiting us.

monday: return all land, resources, and products of labor to the people from whom they were stolen.

tuesday: undo the damage we’ve done to the planet and transition to a sustainable lifestyle.

wednesday: destroy all social categories (i.e. gender, race) and institutions (i.e. colonialism, heteropatriarchy) that mark us for and subject us to exploitation, oppression, and death.

thursday: equip the people with the knowledge and skills they need to avoid the reproduction of oppressive social structures and create beneficial ones.

friday: tend to our wounded, mourn the dead, make amends, expel the traitorous. foster altruism and mutual respect.

saturday: devise new technologies and relations, or recover old ones, that improve the quality of every facet of life.

… the joke is that i’m not sanitizing it to attract half-hearted converts who jump ship at the first sign of trouble.

8

Don’t talk like one of them. You’re not! Even if you’d like to be. To them, you’re just a freak, like me! They need you right now, but when they don’t, they’ll cast you out, like a leper! You see, their morals, their code, it’s a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They’re only as good as the world allows them to be. I’ll show you. When the chips are down, these… these civilized people, they’ll eat each other. See, I’m not a monster. I’m just ahead of the curve.

fuck okay so like neil’s character development is so important, his burying of nathaniel wesninski and becoming neil josten is so so important. it’s not him burying his past, it’s him looking at his past and realizing he simply doesn’t want to be that person anymore. he doesn’t want to be isolated and alone and simply surviving without living. he doesn’t want to be nathaniel wesninski, son of the butcher, he chose to be neil josten, chose to be tied to people and it’s such a fundamental part of his character development. he wants to be neil josten. he wants to stay with the foxes, even when he knew he shouldn’t. he wants to go back for andrew in a zombie apocalypse, the boy who ran, the boy who was always someone else and no one at all, the boy fit his entire life into a duffle bag and left at the first sign of trouble, wants to stay.

Never Say Never (Part 10)

Pairing: Arthur (Mr.) Ketch x Reader
Word Count: 1,431
Warnings: Cussing. Violence.  
Sequel: Part 10/? of  Never Say Never

Special thanks to @lucis-unicorn because she’s the bestest and did the beta and idea-bouncer thing again for me !

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“Don’t talk like one of them, you’re not! even if you’d like to be, to them you’re just a freak like me. They need you right now, but when they don’t they’ll cast you out, like a leper. See? their morals, their code, it’s a bad joke, dropped at the first sign of trouble, they’re only as good as the world allows them to be, I’ll show you, when the chips are down, these.. these civilized people? They’ll eat each other. See?
I’m not a monster, I’m just ahead of the curve.”

- The Joker

chemistry of an alpha - Derek Hale one shot *smut*

Originally posted by teamsciles

Summary: You didn’t avoid Derek Hale because you wanted to. But what else can you do when you’re falling for your Alpha? 

Pairing: Derek Hale x reader

Rating: Mature for heavy swearing, graphic sexual content 


“Ahem.”

You looked up from your Chemistry homework as you heard a cough behind you. Derek Hale was leaning against your doorway with his head cocked to the side, staring at you thoughtfully. You rolled your eyes and resumed your schoolwork, already knowing why he was here. 

“Go away,” you mumbled. 

“No, I’m good right here,” he announced. You ignored him.

A few beats of silence passed.

“[y/n],” he pressed. You gave him nothing, absentmindedly scanning your notes.

Suddenly, you felt yourself being jerked backwards and around, coming face to face with your intruder.

“What the hell?” you rebuked.

“That’s better,” Derek chimed. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you deadpanned, somewhat surprised you could still deflect his questions, given his persistence. Then again, you were always good at avoiding things, a skill useful for dodging the rest of the pack’s investigation. You didn’t back down when Scott offered to give you a ride home just as an excuse to prod you, when Isaac cornered you at your locker with his sad puppy eyes, or even when Allison tried to literally hug information out of you. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and stared stonily at Derek, unimpressed by his interrogation tactics.

You couldn’t even process the next few seconds as he swiftly grabbed the arm of your swivel chair and abruptly pulled you towards him, backtracking to your bed. He sat down so you were eye-level. 

Your eyebrows nearly disappeared into your hairline.  

“Let’s try that again,” Derek enunciated slowly. You crinkled your nose at him because what the fuck is his problem?

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Derek scoffed. “Even without the pack telling me you’ve been weird and distant lately, it’s obvious you’re not yourself.” 

You cursed inwardly. The pack had ratted you out. You shouldn’t be surprised since everyone basically flocked to Mommy Derek at the first sign of trouble. They were cute that way. 

“Still,” you huffed, shifting uncomfortably in your seat under Derek’s scrutiny. “You didn’t have to manhandle me–”

“Just tell me what’s up,” Derek continued nonchalantly, glossing over your complaint. “Your heart’s beating really fast and you’ve reeked of anxiety for days. If there’s a problem, you’re supposed to tell me. I’m your Alpha.” 

Goosebumps rose along your spine at his words. I’m your Alpha. The phrase echoed in your mind. It manifested in images of Derek whispering it in your ear while he fingered you from behind, rasping it out while he held your head down to fuck your mouth. You closed your eyes, frustrated by how much Derek’s authority affected you. Fucking Alpha. 

“Excuse me?” 

Your eyes shot open. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

“No! I–that wasn’t, um…” you stuttered, fumbling for ways to reverse this conversation, reverse time itself. But there was nothing you could do. Your mind went blank, not granting your mouth any usable intelligence. You felt pressure in your brain, like a blood clot that would explode if you didn’t say something soon. 

In a surge of word vomit, you hurriedly blurted out, “IthinkI’minlovewithyou.” 

And that’s when things came to a screeching halt. So much for deflection. Smooth move, genius. 

Derek looked baffled as his shoulders elevated in tension, eyes the size of saucers. 

“You’re… what?” Derek brows furrowed, seemingly searching your face for any cues that you were joking or high. 

If only. Fuck it, nothing you say at this point could make this any worse. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” you enunciated carefully. “Or–it could be something else. I don’t know. I’ve never felt this way before and it’s really freaking me out. I didn’t know what to do, so I just avoided you. And the pack. And just all of it, in general,” you rambled, wringing your hands together. 

In response, Derek’s mouth parted slightly, his two front teeth peeking out like he was about to say something, but retreated again.

And then emerged the quintessential Derek frown. He was so adorable when he was mad, even when you were the reason.  

“Look, [y/n],” Derek coughed, continuing sternly. “You don’t have to… explain. It’s okay to be confused. I’m not–I’m not mad at you.”

It was comforting that he was also stuttering over his words. Meanwhile, you tried not to swoon at how young and boyish he sounded when he was frazzled. But why wasn’t he more freaked out. He should’ve at least been a little angry. It usually took less than this to set him off. 

“You should be mad!” you assured. “Get mad. I totally deserve it. For avoiding you, then lying about it. And for… being in love with you? Because I know what you’re thinking, these teenagers and their hormones,” you said gruffly, wincing as you accidentally did a poor impression of Derek. He raised his palm up incredulously, communicating that yes, you should indeed be embarrassed.

This was getting out of hand. You were all over the place and the more you tried to clarify, the more agitated Derek seemed to become. 

“This is ridiculous. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m too young for you and I need to stop kidding myself. I know that… I know,” your voice strained. You weren’t sure what burned more, your cheeks or the stinging behind your eyes. 

The truth is, you did have feelings for Derek. And it was rather terrifying. 

Because it would be obvious to anyone that Derek Hale was the perfect human specimen, with his tall, burly frame and Greek God jawline, armored in leather jackets and boots. That was your first impression when you met him. You, on the other hand, must have looked disastrous.

Before the pack and Derek, you were in a foster care system that left you abused and broken. When you decided to run away, you had no prospects or money. It was Derek that had found you, lost and dying in the woods. All you saw were sharp teeth and red eyes before you blacked out. 

When you’d woken up, you were warm and safe. He had given you the bite, but also so much more. He had taken you under his wing and polished you off, given you guidance and shelter. It took a while to trust him, but when you did, he promised to turn you from a scared runaway into a warrior. And he delivered. 

He introduced you to the pack, the family you never had. He taught you how to defend yourself, showing you strength you only dreamed about. But he also told you to use the bite to help other people, that power didn’t have to be destructive.

When you were human, you cowered away from people, fading into the background. You couldn’t trust anyone, couldn’t even trust yourself. But with Derek’s help, you learned to fight, speak your mind, and trust your instincts.

And therein lies the problem. Every time you were around Derek, every instinct in your body told you to jump his bones. You physically ached for him, your body buzzing with anxiety whenever you tried to stifle your need. 

It wasn’t even just the physical stuff. Underneath his tough exterior, Derek had a heart of gold. You’d seen enough cruelty to know that Derek was the opposite. He was the most generous person you’d ever known, sharing his home with a bunch of misfit teenagers, nursing lost puppies back to health. 

Even though Derek had rescued you, he’d never indicated that he was remotely attracted to you. He just regarded you as another annoying Beta through lectures and demands. Every once in a while, if you reached a new milestone, socially or physically, he would pull you into an awkward hug or stiffly pat your head while you tried to cough away your laughter.

It was obvious he would never return your feelings, so you spent an embarrassingly large portion of day figuring out ways to avoid Derek, which led to avoiding the pack because they were always together. But attendance was required at pack meetings, so you sat as far away from everyone as possible and looked down the whole time, only speaking when directly addressed. 

Everyone was bound to notice your strange behavior eventually. You just didn’t expect Derek to confront you about it directly, assuming he wasn’t into pack drama. 

Once again, you’d underestimated his capacity to care. 

And judging from the way he was clenching his fists and gazing a hole into his jeans, apparently he’d underestimated your capacity to complicate his life. 

The last thing you wanted to was to make things harder for Derek, but this confrontation resulted in exactly that.

“Look, let’s just pretend this didn’t happen, alright? Everyone has psychotic episodes sometimes,” you laughed nervously. “I won’t avoid you anymore–unless you want me too. I’ll leave you alone. Or, should I move out? Yeah, I’m going to move out. I’ll just go now, sorry.” 

Without even looking at Derek, you rushed to your door, wiping the dew that had gathered at the corner of your eyes. You reached for your doorknob, but staggered backwards as you felt a hand close over your wrist. You yelped and closed your eyes as you gracelessly collided into something solid.

Your arms tucked into your chest, instinctively protecting you from the impact. You opened your eyes when you felt a breath fan over your forehead, and realized that Derek had you cradled against his chest with an arm locked around your back.  

“Derek, what–” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he grunted as he slammed his lips to yours. 

Your went catatonic with shock, body rigid in Derek’s arms. 

You were in Derek’s arms. Derek Hale’s arms in that blue Henley shirt that felt so soft and warm against you and his mouth, full and moist, pressing against yours–

You were broken out of your trance when you felt Derek’s wet tongue graze your chapped bottom lip. Oh. 

You unfolded your arms and threw them around his neck, lunging forward to finally comply with his movements. Your tongue snaked out to meet his, eagerly applying pressure and then retreating again, battling then teasing. Derek signaled that your efforts were fruitful as he growled into the your mouth, the sound traveling from the back of his throat to your core. 

It was all dueling tongues and gnashing teeth. Of course this is how Derek would kiss, intense and ardent, almost clinical in the way he switched between squeezing your hip and biting your lip. 

And then oxygen was becoming an issue. Your body felt warm, too warm. Too much was happening too fast. You placed your palms against Derek’s chest, using all your strength to shove him away. 

He faltered backwards, a look of astonishment twisting his features. 

“What the hell?” he asked. He glared at you, but you could only focus on his chest as it heaved up and down, trying to calm your own breathing. 

“Are we doing this?” you asked, voice wavering with emotion. “Because you’re still my Alpha. And I’m still a teenager.”

“You’re 18,” Derek deadpanned.

“I’m still in high school!” Derek’s gaze softened as you raised your voice. 

You just couldn’t just rush into this. This was too important. You needed to know Derek’s intentions, because you didn’t just want a hurried groping session, a one night stand. You wanted all of it, all of him. Anything less would just cheapen your feelings. 

For once, you actually believed that you deserved better than a guy just using you and throwing you away. And this is what Derek taught you, to stand up for yourself. It’s not that you believed Derek would take advantage of you; you just needed some confirmation that this was real. 

“I know that,” Derek approached you again. You promptly straightened out your back, trying to hold your ground. 

But your voice betrayed you, folding under the weight of your next question, “Then, why did you kiss me?” 

“Because I don’t care anymore. I can’t keep pretending there’s nothing here,” he confessed, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, delicately caressing your forehead in his path. You leaned into his palm. 

“Oh… wait, then, what are you saying?”

Derek exhaled.

“I mean… I don’t know. It wasn’t always like this. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I always knew you were strong, I knew it the moment I found you. Then one day, something changed. You changed. You weren’t that same girl anymore. All of a sudden, you became this intelligent, self-possessed, beautiful young woman. And I couldn’t just keep patting your head and pretending things were still normal between us.”

You bit your lip and looked down. 

“So, it’s not just me, then? You felt it too?” you asked shyly, too afraid to look at him. 

Derek nudged your chin upwards with his knuckle, using his thumb to stroke your jaw. 

“Definitely.” He granted you a small smirk, his eyes twinkling. 

That was all the confirmation you needed as you charged forward to press your lips against his and snaked your arms around his waist, pulling him flush against you. Derek responded immediately by fisting your hair and cupping your jaw, enveloping you into his warm embrace. 

You felt around for the hem of his shirt, lifting the edge of the material. Derek pulled away as you raised it over his head and threw it aside. You panted while you took him in, admiring the smattering of dark chest hair that decorated the hard planes of his chest. The rest of him was smooth, aside from a treasure trail that disappeared behind his jeans.

In a surge of confidence, you decided you wanted him to see you too. You stepped back and lifted your tank top over your head, leaving you only in a red bra. 

You heard Derek inhale a sharp breath. You were slightly disappointed when he maintained eye contact with you, the veins in his neck straining against his skin, like he was still trying to be respectful. 

You walked towards him and grabbed his wrist, guiding his palm between the valley of your breasts. You eyelids fluttered shut as Derek’s hand slowly drifted down your torso, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just below your belly button. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admitted airily. “I finally have you.” 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Derek’s said, voice gruff with earnestness. No one had every spoken to you this way. 

You felt your chest flush as you scoffed, whispering, “Not as beautiful as you.” 

When you opened your eyes, Derek was looking at you somberly. He reached forward and brushed your hair away from your face and kissed you tenderly, much softer than before. You were pliant against him, curving and arching into him every time he moved. Your hands found his hips, squeezing the defined flesh before you started to unbuckle his belt. 

You palmed Derek over his boxers, his hips bucking involuntarily into your hand as he groaned into your mouth. Pulling away, you trailed your mouth over his jaw and neck, sponging open mouthed kisses down his chest and abdomen until you were on your knees, eye-level with his erection. 

“[y/n], you don’t have to,” Derek protested. He palmed your jaw upwards to look at you. You grinned up at him. 

“I know,” you said, slowly stroking him. “I’ve just always wanted to know what it’s like to suck off Derek Hale.” 

You gave no warning before you took the head of his shaft fully into your mouth. You watched Derek throw his head back and hiss. 

“Fuck, [y/n],” Derek cursed. He reached down and placed a comforting hand on the back of your head, his fingers combing through your hair. 

Any sort of encouragement was highly appreciated at this point, because even looking at Derek’s cock was intimidating. You weren’t exactly surprised by his considerable size, especially since his bulge always gave him away. But nothing you’d imagined could’ve prepared you for the real thing.

Noticing the prominent vein underneath his shaft, you lifted his cock vertically. You satisfied your urge to kiss him along the feature, trailing your mouth up to his tip. 

“What are you doing? Are you… fuck, that’s so hot,” Derek complimented, his tone gravelly. You smirked, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“You’re too pretty not to kiss,” you teased, but it was completely true. You licked a stripe up his shaft. Taking a deep breath, you stretched your mouth open as far as you could, taking in all of him. Or really, as much as possible, which was about half. You pumped the remaining portion, palm twisting up and down. 

“Oh my god, [y/n], where the fuck did you learn to do that?” 

You giggled. “What, this?” 

Gripping Derek’s thighs to anchor you forward, you bobbed your head back and forth, sucking him off while you continued to stroke him.

Derek’s responded with a fist tangling in your hair, guiding your head against him. 

It was turning you on so much that you were affecting Derek that you slipped a hand into your shorts, rubbing yourself over your underwear.

You reminded yourself to breathe through your nose while Derek filled you. Derek Hale was inside of you and nothing else could ever be this important. 

You couldn’t help but moan against Derek’s cock as you pleasured yourself, using your other hand to fondle his balls. Profanities tumbled incoherently from his lips as your moans vibrated against him.

You stopped suddenly when you felt him tug your hair backwards. Derek fell out of your mouth with a little pop! as you pulled away. Derek grasped your shoulders and pulled you up to stand. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna be able to hold back,” Derek warned, pressing his forehead against yours. He affectionately stroked your cheek with him thumb. 

You felt giddy, beaming with delight and a twinge of pride. 

“Who says I want you to hold back?” 

You could’ve sworn you saw Derek’s eyes flash red. 

“Trust me, sweetheart. I could make you regret those words.” Derek’s voice was rough and scratchy, the tone sending shivers up your spine. 

“You sure about that? Let’s find out,” you challenged, the thought of Derek dominating you jolting your senses. 

Derek softly chuckled. “Let’s save that for next time.” 

Next time. Derek wanted a next time. 

“Right now, I want you to undress.” 

Your mouth went dry at his command. There was that authority you loved so much. 

Hooking your thumbs into your waistband, you bent over and slid the material down your legs, stepping out of them. You were now clad only in a pair of black panties and a red bra. You passively regretted your choice to forego matching underwear. 

But Derek didn’t seem to mind as he blatantly stared at your legs, giving you a once over. He walked towards you, staring directly into your eyes. 

You whimpered when Derek’s thumb pressed to your bottom lip, folding the flesh under, the gesture prompting you to part your mouth. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered. He leaned forward to kiss you, slowly and softly. This was a sharp contrast to the way he suddenly swooped down, still attached to your mouth. You yelped at his sudden movements, arms wrapping intuitively around his neck. He grabbed the back of your thighs to lift you up into his arms. 

He held you to him as he started walking, an arm locked around your waist, the other grasping your neck to keep you in place. You were ridiculously turned on that he could carry you so effortlessly. 

Derek descended and you felt your knees touch the mattress. He sat down with you in his lap. You continued exploring his mouth, your hands trailing his back. You scorched his shoulder blades with scratches you knew would heal seconds later. 

Your actions elicited a grunt from Derek, who was also engrossed with your back. You felt the rough pads of his calloused fingertips knead forcefully, his aggression causing you to arch away in bliss. With a tweak of his fingers, you felt him undo your bra. 

You broke away, observing Derek while you nervously slid your bra straps down your arms, your hands shaking. Derek’s tongue flicked out against his lips as he admired you, his immediate reaction easing your worries. He wasted no time, littering kisses down your chest, palming your breasts. You threw your head back and moaned.

“You’re so perfect, sweetheart,” Derek rasped as he nuzzled your neck. You felt over-stimulated with Derek rubbing you and kissing you simultaneously. Needing to relieve tension, you involuntarily started grinding on Derek’s lap, pressing your panty-covered sex over Derek’s thick erection. 

You moved together, Derek guiding you back and forth with his hands on your ass and lips on your collarbone. You clung to his broad shoulders for support. 

When Derek suddenly bit down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, you gasped in pain and surprise. You were already healing. The gesture actually felt intimate and romantic instead of violent, a throwback to the first bite Derek ever gave you. Even now, when you were tangled in his limbs, he seemed afraid that you would slip away. 

“Mine,” he whispered into your neck.

He was trying to mark you. 

“All yours, always been,” you promised. 

You burrowed your face into his neck, returning his affection by lapping at his skin, not feeling brave enough to bite your Alpha. 

“Please, Derek,” you pleaded, trying to communicate your desire. 

“Shh,” he murmured. “Don’t worry, I got you.” 

Giving your ass one final squeeze, he slid his fingers into your underwear, spreading your wetness along your slit. In response, you dug your fingernails into his shoulders as you desperately rode his hand, your desire becoming frantic. 

Suddenly, he pulled his hand away. You whimpered at the loss of contact, but then cried out when Derek slipped your panties to the side and entered you in one swift motion. 

“Fuck!” you exclaimed as Derek filled you to the hilt. After letting you adjust, he moved slowly, holding onto your hips as he glided in and out. You felt his cock stretch your walls, clenching your thighs every time his tip grazed your g-spot. Derek was everywhere, around you and inside you. 

His hands were restless, alternating between gripping your hips and tugging at your hair. His teeth grazing against your nipple left you a squirming mess above him. You cradled his face and leaned forward to kiss him. Arching your back, you gave your hips leeway to meet Derek’s movements. 

“That’s it, baby. Ride me,” Derek urged.     

His command rang in your ears. It thrilled you that Derek was giving you control.

You braced some of your weight on your knees, ascending from Derek’s lap. Using his shoulder’s for leverage, you raised yourself just until you reached his tip, then slammed your hips back down. You picked up your pace, trying to match Derek’s earlier momentum.

“Is this how you want me?”

Derek growled his approval.

His encouragement made you feel sexy and wanted even in your fervid state. You could hear the distinct slap of your ass against Derek’s thighs reverberate through the expanse of your bedroom. The assault from Derek’s mouth left your chest decorated with red bruises. Your breasts bounced in rhythm with your exertions.

One of Derek’s hands gripped the flesh of your ass. The other reached behind you to clamp down on your shoulder, helping you descend down his enlarged shaft.

“Are you close to coming?” he asked. He reasoned with you so calmly that you were actually embarrassed by just how close you were. You felt a knot tighten just below your stomach and you knew you would burst soon.

You couldn’t even formulate an coherent response, resorting to just emphatically nodding your head.

He relinquished his hold, reaching down to rub your clit. His rough fingertips fervently moved against your sensitive nub, the stimulation breaking your rhythm. Derek took over again as he wrapped an arm around your waist to hold up your thrashing form as he pounded into you.

“Derek… Derek!”

You cried out as your walls contracted, your eyes screwing shut as you reached your orgasm. A few erratic pumps later, Derek was joining you at your peak. You climaxed together, him groaning into your chest while you hung on to his shoulders. 

Your body shook as you came down from your high, your head hung low on Derek’s shoulder. Your body felt so numb, you couldn’t even figure out where you ended and he began. Your sweat, breath, even skin seemed to melt together. Derek rocked you back and forth in his lap, combing his fingers through your hair and cooing mantras of “shhh” and “I’m here, baby” into your ear.

Derek did what he always does–he took care of you.

“So,” you mumbled, finally breaking the silence. “That just happened.”

Derek snorted. 

“Hey, [y/n]?” 

“Hmm?” 

You sat up to look at Derek. 

“I’m in love with you, too.” 

You merely blinked at Derek’s admission, completely caught off guard. Were you still delirious from your orgasm or did Derek Hale just say he loves you? 

What?” 

“You heard me,” Derek quipped, avoiding your gaze, opting instead to fiddle with a strand of your hair.

“But… you know you don’t have to say that, right?” you nudged his face to look at you. “I know we just had sex, but I didn’t put out to force you into saying ‘I love you’ back. Like I said, I don’t even know for sure if I love you–”

“That’s fine,” Derek interrupted you, cracking a smile. “Really, it’s okay. I still love you. And you can say it back when you’re ready. I can wait for that.”

“Really?” you asked shyly. 

“Of course,” he rolled your eyes, his attitude evoking a giggle from you. 

“Aww, what a sweet Alpha,” you playfully taunted as you ruffled his hair. 

Derek immediately stiffened, his hand lashing to grab your wrist mid-ruffle. 

“You know what? I take it back,” Derek heckled, smirking. “I don’t love you.” 

Your jaw dropped at his quip. You were sitting in Derek Hale’s lap, naked, while he made flirty banter. You faced murderous supernatural creatures on a daily basis and this was the most bizarre moment of your life.    

“Is that so?” You squinted your eyes at him. “Well then, I’ll just have to find myself new man. Actually, I think Scott just came home, and since he’s the true Alpha–”

Derek suddenly grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you forward, pressing his lips to yours in an impassioned kiss. You smiled against his mouth, slightly entertained by his possessive nature. Even though your favorite werewolf couldn’t take a joke, you wouldn’t change a thing. 

Derek Hale was finally yours.  

The Truth Above Love (Steve Rogers x Reader)

some completely random fluff type drabble imagine thing based off Tear In My Heart by twenty one pilots

-Jazz

song; tear in my heart by top

Other characters featured; sam, if you squint and tilt your head at an 145 degree angle

KEY

Y/N - Your name

Y/L/N - Your Last Name

Warnings; language 

Word count; 828 

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lilmissginge  asked:

for the otp meme: merthur, 1-30? ^^

1) Who is the most affectionate?

Merlin’s definitely the more likely to initiate PDA. Arthur tends to get a little embarrassed by it if anyone’s around, but he always accepts it anyway cuz he can’t get enough of it. He’s just a little too repressed to reach out himself, always a tiiiny bit afraid that he’ll be rebuffed.

2) Big spoon/Little spoon?

ARTHUR IS THE LITTLE SPOON TO MERLIN’S BIG SPOON. IT MAKES HIM FEEL SAFE AND CHERISHED.

3) Most common argument?

They don’t communicate very well. They both tend to make decisions for the both of them without consulting the other, Arthur because he forgets that Merlin’s opinion might differ from his and Merlin because he just assumes he knows what Arthur’s answer will be already so doesn’t need to ask, and that doesn’t usually turn out very well.

4) Favorite non-sexual activity?

Anything that they can make into a competition, lol. They will compete on anything, like monopoly or how far they can skip rocks or who can carry more grocery bags in from the car at once, and make the most outrageous and ridiculous bets on it. The bets are a competition in and of themselves, tbh, just getting sillier and pettier every time (the number of times they have had to literally lick each other’s boots is just stupid). It’s all in good fun, tho, and there’s plenty of laughs all around either way it goes.

5) Who is most likely to carry the other?

Like literally carry? Arthur. He’s got the muscles and he can hoist Merlin up without much trouble. (Merlin can lift Arthur if he really wants to but it’s not a particularly fun or romantic experience for either of them, lol).

6) What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

Arthur has a thing for Merlin’s hands. They’re long and nimble and gentle and strong all at once. And Merlin, for his part, just really loves Arthur’s eyes. They’re a different kind of blue than his own, a lighter clearer kind, and he loves them a lot. Arthur gets embarrassed when Merlin just wants to stare longingly into his eyes tho, sometimes that’s just too intimate (at least when he realizes that’s what’s happening, lol, other times they just get caught up in each other and don’t notice that it’s been twenty seconds since they last blinked or looked away).

7) What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

They get awkward as fuck. Arthur is normally a very confidence person, but as soon as he’s faced with someone whose opinion he actually cares about, he gets rambly and blushy and drops things and tries waaaay too hard. Merlin’s slightly better off, but he’s twice as likely to trip on air and will cut and run (sometimes mid-sentence) if he thinks he’s making an idiot of himself.

8) Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

They’re not really big on nicknames. Occasionally Merlin will take a leaf out of Gwaine’s book and call Arthur princess, but he does so in full knowledge that Arthur will make him pay for.

9) Who worries the most?

Merlin is MADE of worry. It is his natural state of being and nothing can stop it. Arthur worries when they’re in dangerous circumstances of course, Merlin is his top priority then, but Merlin just worries all the time about everything.

10) Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

That’s something Arthur makes an effort to learn and remember. It’s one of those things that he sort of considers a Boyfriend Thing, and he always feels warm and fuzzy and accomplished when it makes Merlin smile.

11) Who tops?

They switch a lot. They both have a slight preference for top!Merlin.

12) Who initiates kisses?

Merlin really really really likes kissing. He will kiss Arthur at every opportunity, will make any excuse, would happily forgo sex entirely if he could just keep kissing him. (Not that Arthur minds.)

13) Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

This ties back to that “Arthur has a thing for Merlin’s hands” thing.

14) Who kisses the hardest?

When Merlin gets on a roll, he goes hard. He spends a lot of his time playing himself off as weak, but he’s not. And when he wants something? Really wants it? He will take it.

15) Who wakes up first?

Merlin is much more of a morning person than Arthur is (if either of them can be considered as such. It’s more of a 10am vs noon kind of thing, lol).

16) Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Arthurrrrr

17) Who says I love you first?

Merlin has no trouble saying it. He knows long before he lets the words out of his mouth, and he only holds them back because he knows Arthur isn’t ready to hear them yet. Even after Arthur can accept the words from Merlin, it still takes a little while before he can bring himself to say them back. He just wasn’t brought up with love being an open or obvious thing.

18) Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

Since Merlin’s the one who almost always makes the lunches, the notes are most commonly his. Sometimes they’re sappy. Usually they’re snarky/sarcastic/actual reminders of things he knows Arthur has forgotten he needs to do.

19) Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

They’re both a little reluctant at first, if only because of their widely different demographics. Merlin with the working class, Arthur the highbrow crowd. They both worry a bit how their friends will react and if they’ll be assholes about it, and Arthur especially worries about his father’s opinion. Arthur’s friends come first because Merlin refuses to be hidden, and also he’s very outspoken and in-your-face about his social position, which they like. Then come Merlin’s friends (Will thinks Arthur is a posh prick but the rest of them don’t mind him), then Hunith, and then Uther. Later. Much much later.

20) What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

It grows on them. Everyone’s a little wary of it to start with, but they prove themselves to each other’s people before too long. (Except Uther. Uther never quite warms up to Merlin completely, tho he does accept it.)

21) Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Arthur will totally do the whole slow-dancing-in-an-empty-room-to-no-music-just-cuz-he-wants-to-be-close thing. Just so he can get his hands on Merlin and also make him smile helplessly cuz it’s so damn sappy.

22) Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

Arthur is not allowed in the kitchen. Not anymore.

23) Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Arthur really honestly thinks his lines are smooth. Merlin never tells him otherwise cuz it is just too good and so worth the secondhand embarrassment to see Arthur look so pleased with himself.

24) Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Meeerrrrrrliiiin. He will say anything to fluster Arthur in important meetings and make him go red in the face.

25) Who needs more assurance?

Arthur’s insecurities don’t get the best of him often, but sometimes they sneak up on him. Then he just needs a reminder or two that Merlin really likes him, not his money or his position or what Arthur can do for him. It’s hard for him to believe that anyone can love him unconditionally for him.

26) What would be their theme song?

Is that even a question? A Thousand Years. Duh.

27) Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

Hunith used to sing to Merlin when he was little, so of course Merlin does the same for his kids. Arthur rolls his eyes and says it’s silly, but it’s only a few weeks before Merlin overhears him humming while he rocks the baby back to sleep.

28) What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Pine. A lot. Talk on the phone all the damn time, so much so that it probably irritates whoever they’re with.

29) one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

Arthur has a tendency to distance himself at the first sign of trouble. It’s easier than getting hurt, and it protects him from potential rejection. Merlin can’t leave him if he leaves first, and this way if Merlin does leave then at least it was HIS choice. It only takes two instance of this for Merlin to catch onto what was happening in Arthur’s head, and honestly it just made that particular argument worse because how dare he just give up on this?? How dare he not fight for them?? But after that, when he’s calmed down, he does recognize the insecurity and fear behind it and knows better how to head it off before it reaches the point where Arthur starts withdrawing.

30) one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

Merlin bites his fingernails when he gets nervous or stressed out. Arthur starts pulling his hand away from his mouth whenever he notices him doing it, holding Merlin’s hand against his chest and kissing his fingertips to convince him to stop. It sort of backfires cuz now Merlin starts nibbling on his fingers specifically to get Arthur to be so gentle and concerned with him. It’s all very sappy and sweet and this headcanon will never leave me alone.


send me ship/numbers!

sayruq  asked:

i love how lucius appears to be the king maker according to both canon and pottermore (the malfoys being the power behind the throne) but in actuality it's peter pettigrew who makes voldemort. he helps him destroy the order in the first war and he makes voldemort his body in the second. in contrast, severus appears to be the loyal follower from his role to his appearance to the fact that des seemingly supported him when no one would. i love the contrast and parallels between peter and severus

Yes, absolutely.

I once threatened to make a post exploring Pettigrew, and I’ve never got around to it; I really should.  I understand why he’s so reviled in fandom, but it’s not just that he’s hated, but that he’s under explored.

It frustrates me that we know so little about his motivation.  As you say, he is absolutely Severus’ mirror - the opposing traitor who undermines the war effort that he’s supposedly loyal to.  Yet we understand Severus; we can draw conclusions as to why he signed up to the Dark Lord, and we’ve seen in Technicolor why he defected.

But Peter?  We know nothing.  Canon is completely silent on the issue (and I won’t start lamenting about him being a Slytherin hatstall).

He goes to great lengths; he (along with James and Sirius) excludes Remus from their group.  He causes the death of his friend and his wife.  When confronted by Sirius, he cuts off his own finger, and murders Muggles - all as part of an elaborate method of framing his other friend.

When it all comes out in PoA, Peter doesn’t just retreat from the wizarding world, but he actively seeks out Voldemort and assists in his restoration.  He’s constantly undermined and ridiculed, but he’s far more powerful than anyone gives him credit for.

Which is interesting.  Peter is a follower, and almost spends his time begging people not to notice him, happy to do whatever they say.  Nobody really appreciates just how talented he is.  

Severus is also a follower, but gives off the air of a lone wolf.   He acquiesces to those in authority, and although he is much more obviously talented than Peter, he hides away certain abilities - such as his Occlumency - so nobody really appreciates just how dangerous he can be.

But for all that, the two could not be more opposite.  Peter is a Death Eater because he’s a coward.  Severus, as he screams to Harry, is not a coward.

And on to Lucius Malfoy - he’s astonishing, because he’s presented as the epitome of danger, but actually, he completely fails.  Repeatedly.  

He signs himself up to a maniac.  He flaunts his wealth and influence, but he’s kicked off the board of Hogwarts.  He uses a Horcrux for his own ends, and reaps a terrible reward for doing so - and then he chooses to be imprisoned rather than face a furious Voldemort when he fails at the Ministry.  In doing so, he condemns his son to a death sentence, and it’s down to his wife and his ‘old friend’ to save Draco in his absence.  His house is taken, his wand is taken, and he’s a pathetic figure by the end.

Which is rather astonishing, because Lucius was the red herring.  You expected Lucius to be the King; to be the very real danger that Harry faced - and yet, at the first sign of trouble, Lucius collapsed.  It’s interesting that people cite Lucius as being an epitome of a Death Eater, because I think Lucius Malfoy enjoyed the years of 1981-1994 far more than anyone else…

anonymous asked:

Why does it seem like Regina is only ever a "good friend" to Emma when it's an opportunity to bash Hook? First in the Underworld, now here. I'm really, really tired of it, especially after the writers always have Hook mentioning how much Regina has changed. It just sucks.

Like??? I’m so tired of it. That’s not being supportive. Neither Regina nor Snow are looking out for Emma’s best interest by feeding into the unfounded idea that Hook just left and Emma should kick him to the curb (which she already started doing?!?). He’s her True Love who has literally died for them but at the first sign of trouble, everyone turns their backs on him, and Emma wonders why Hook was anxious about coming clean. The repeated insults and fake women empowerment are tired, lazy, and unfair, and my heart breaks for his character and for what they’re doing to Emma’s.

half-light chapter 13

one /// two /// three /// four /// five  /// six /// seven /// eight /// nine /// ten /// eleven /// twelve

thirteen.

She dreams she’s in Mulder’s apartment and they’re young again and her hair is long, longer than it ever was in the 90’s. There’s cardboard boxes labeled in her neat, looping cursive, and he collapses on the couch next to her and puts his feet up on one. Can I ask you something? he says, tapping her hip gently. He’s staring at his shoes instead of her.

Sure, she says. The fact that he won’t meet her eyes is a little worrying. She sits beside him on the couch, Mulder’s old leather couch she hasn’t seen in years, she thinks. What’s up?

He chews his lower lip. Were you, um. Ever going to move back? In the other place, I mean. He scuffs his shoe along the edge of the box.

Oh, Mulder, she says, wanting to kiss him. She touches his shoulder. I was, yes. I just… wanted to work up to it. I felt like we had issues to work out, and I wanted to take small steps. But yes, I was going to move back in, eventually. I loved you.

He smiles, still not looking at her. You loved me?

Loved you. Love you. She grins, too, laying her head on his shoulder. I never stopped loving you. Not then. Not since 1993.

1993. Oh, really, he says, smug and teasing.

Hmm, she says, pretending to consider. Maybe a little longer. 1997, at least.

Keep reading

Robin’s Nest: Part 6

Prompt: Where the robin’s were Bruce’s and Batmom’s biological kids

Words: 1517

AN: This was edited by my wonderful team of beta’s who continue to plow through my stories.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5


You sit in the chair and wait. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, and your stomach is flopping, and you feel like you’re going to be sick, but you push the feeling down. You’d curl into Bruce but that’s a bit impossible at the moment, since he’s wearing the suit. You know exactly where that suit has been and what it has been through and you have no desire to touch it. So, you settle for his hand on your shoulder, drawing all the comfort you can from it.

          “Everything is going to be fine Y/N.” He tells you, his voice a bit deeper and rougher than usual.

          You give a grim smile, “You forget; I know exactly who you deal with Bruce.”

          “He won’t be going anywhere near those psychos. Muggers, and low life’s only for tonight, and the next few years. I’ll send him home at the first sign of real trouble.”

          “You can’t control everything Bruce. He’s going to keep getting better, and eventually he’ll be beside you in the thick of everything. Even the Joker.”

          His voice is a growl, “He’ll never come in contact with him. Not if I can help it.”

          You just smile, and allow yourself to believe that for the moment. That thought allows you to put on a smile as Dick comes out of the training room. His outfit is red, black, and yellow, and despite the mask, you know you’d be able to identify him from a mile away. He looks adorable in his cape, and you really wish he was just going trick or treating, and not out to fight Gotham’s worst.

          It all started a few months ago, about a month after he turned ten. He asked to go on patrol with Bruce. You had never really kept Bruce’s after hours’ activities from the kids. You just didn’t tell them anything until they got older. Eight was when things were explained. Which meant only Dick and Jason currently knew the entire truth, and the fact that no one could know.

          Over the past three years both Dick and Jason had taken to their martial arts training like fish to water. Bruce had steadily increased their regimen, and now you were fairly certain they could handle almost any situation. That didn’t mean you wanted them to be crime fighters. Bruce was more than enough, thank you very much.

          Dick had begged for days, and eventually it had been Jason who had convinced you. He had looked you in the eye, and said: “Mom, Dad can’t do it all alone. He’s going to need help, and it’s better to start now, rather than later.”

          You give your consent the next day, along with an entire list of rules. No patrols on school nights, no major villains, and Dick has to follow every single order Bruce gives. And now here you are. You watch them go with trepidation in your stomach, and when they return and Dick tells you that it’s the greatest night of his life, you want to cry. You’d really hoped that he’d hate it.

          That night Bruce holds you while you cry. You do your best to not think about it, over the next year, and Batman and Robin take on more and more dangerous missions. When the night you fear actually comes true, you throw up. Dick comes home with his uniform torn, a broken arm, and under the influence of scarecrow’s fear gas.

          You and Bruce hold him while he screams, as he lives out his worst fears. When it finally wears off Dick is soaked through his clothes, and you keep him home from school for the next week, claiming the flu. After a week at home he’s begging to go back out on the streets, despite the nightly nightmares. You just don’t understand it.

          Before you can say no, Bruce does, and walks away. You know the guilt is eating him alive. You don’t blame him, how could you? You’d consented.

          When Dick doesn’t come tearing into your room due to a nightmare, you go and check on him. You find him wide awake and crying. Sitting down next to him, you pull him into a hug and hold him until the sniffling stops. When it does, he makes one last plea, “Mom, I need to go back out. Batman needs Robin.”

          You try to reason with him, your voice soft and gentle, “Dick, sweetheart, if I were to lose you . .  .”

          “You won’t. I need a chance to conquer my fears, mom. Running from fear just intensifies it. You and dad taught me that.” His voice is so sure and confident; it reminds you of Bruce. It reminds you of Bruce telling you that he was going to find his parent’s killers, and that he was going to save the city they loved so much.

          The more you think about it, the more Jason’s words come back to you. He can’t save the city by himself. You silently curse your husband for passing down that damn nobleness to your children. You just kiss Dick’s forehead, and sing to him until he falls asleep. Once he’s out you go in search of Bruce.

          You find him in the cave, stitching up a new wound. You silently take over the stitches. When you’re done you slide on to the gurney next to your husband and say words, you never thought would come out of your mouth “You’ve got to take him back out Bruce.” Bruce remains silent, knowing you’re not done. “He wants to conquer his fears, because running from fear just intensifies it.”

          Bruce smiles at the line. It’s the same Thomas Wayne had told Bruce when he was a boy. It was the same line Bruce had told you when he decided to leave and train, and it was what you told him when you joined him.

“Figures we’d end up with well-rounded, noble kids, who actually listen to us and throw our own words back in our face, but I can’t take him back out there. You were right, Y/N, I can’t guarantee his safety.”

          You give a sad smile, “We can never guarantee his safety Bruce. There’s no guarantees in this world, he could get struck by freaking lightning Bruce! But I know that his chances of survival are a lot higher with you than with anyone else. And we both know that kid is so freaking determined that eventually he’s going to try and sneak out and do it by himself.”

          “You really think so?”

          You smirk, “He’s your son Bruce, I’m down right certain of it. Just like I’m certain that you’ll do everything within your power to keep him safe.”

          Bruce smiles, “There might actually be one more thing I can do.”

You raise an eyebrow in question and listen.

          The next night Dick is dressed and ready to go. You’re once again sitting in the chair, this time Jason is sitting in your lap, content with being snuggled for the moment. You doubt it will last much longer, he’s already ten, and you’re fairly certain that both he and Dick will soon begin the process of pushing you and Bruce away in favor of friends. So you snuggle him a bit tighter.

          Dick comes out in his brand new uniform. It looks exactly the same, but you know minor adjustments have been made, and that his utility belt now includes a portable gas mask. With a smile on his face, he faces you and asks, “Well, what do you think?”

          You smile, “You look adorable.

          Dick groans and Jason laughs, “Robin, the adorable boy wonder! He knocks the bad guys out with his cuteness!”

          You give Jason a tight squeeze to stop him, as Bruce comes out. He’s in his own suit, and looks as serious as always. It’s a sharp contradiction to Dick’s cheerful smile. Dick bounces over to his father and asks, “So, where to first?”

          Bruce allows a little bit of a smile before saying, “Happy Harbor.”

          Dick’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, “That’s not in Gotham. Why are we going there?”

          Bruce allows a full out grin, and it just looks wrong when he’s wearing the cowl, “We’ve been invited to join the League.”

          Dick pesters Bruce with questions as they climb into the batmobile and once they’re gone Jason asks, “What’s the League?”

          You smile “A group of people with the same ideals as your dad.”

          Jason rolls his eyes as he jumps off your lap, “Dad kicks major butt by himself, and if he does need help he has plenty of it right here.”

You nod, already knowing where this going, “Speaking of which, when do I get to start going out with Dad and Dick?”

          “The League offers an extra level of protection for your dad and Dick. And you can start going out when I feel fully confident that you will listen to everything your father says and follow his every order.”

          Jason scowls, “So never?”

          You shake your head “No, I know that I can’t keep you home forever. You’re just as stubborn as your dad, and your just as good a fighter as Dick. I just need a bit of adjustment time.”

          “You’ve already had a year.” He points out.

          You just smile, “We’ll talk about it when you’re older.”

          “Like when I’m forty?”

          “How about we talk about it when you turn thirteen? And in the meantime, maybe you can start with helping with the computers.”

          Jason perks up a bit at that “Really?”

          You nod, “Damian and Helena are hell on wheels, and Tim is in all those advanced classes, I could use the help. But there are rules.”

          He’s smiling now, “I’ll take anything!”

          “No working it on school nights, no looking up graphic cases, and you follow all of my orders to the tee.”

          He hugs you, “Sure, whatever you say!”

          Taking full advantage of the opportunity you hug him back, tight, and face the facts. Crime fighting is just as much a family business as Wayne Enterprises is.


Ages are as follows at the end of the chapter, after Dick has been Robin for a year,

Batmom and Bruce- 32

Dick- age 11

Jason- age 10

Tim- Age 7

Damian and Helena- Age 4